Mitchell's Inner Monologue/Other Actions

I still don't own RJG.

"Why are you in a bush?"

Shoot! I had been discovered; a wrench thrown in my work. I was trying to find a piece (just one piece!) of irrefutable evidence that can prove my neighbours, the Propulsions, are aliens from another planet, and suddenly this random girl came questioning me!

"Are you interested in my work?"

I don't know why I asked. I normally work alone; not to mention I would later discover that the girl was unbelievably incompetent.

"Work? You do work in a bush?" The girl looked at me like I was a buffoon. "Wouldn't a table or a desk or something be more comfortable? Plus, that way you wouldn't get grass strains all over you."

I rolled my eyes. "It's called detective work, sweetie. Look it up." I raised my binoculars back up to my eyes. "And for the record, I don't take kindly to your interruptions."

"Sorry," she said, lowering herself to my level. "What's your case?"

I adjusted my glasses before informing her. "You see that redheaded boy over there? I have reason to believe that he's an extraterrestrial being from outside our galaxy."

Then came the moment where I noticed her camera. "And I also have reason to believe you can help me with my case."

"Really?" The girl squealed. "Happy to help!"

That was the day I met a terrible detective, but a friend at the same time.

My name is Mitchell Peterson, and in this document, I will recount my first case with the assistance of Junior Detective Skylar Turner.

"There he is." I had spotted my target. He was in his yard with his strange pet and robot.

"Hello. Yes. Repair." The robot beeped.

"Hold on a second, Jet 2," said Jet. "I'll have the rust cleared up in no time."

"That doesn't seem too weird," said Skylar. "He's just fixing a robot."

I sighed. "You're missing the point. Why exactly did he build a robot in the first place? What does he need it for? How did he build it? What did he use to make it?"

"By the looks of it, a bunch o' old junk he probably dragged out of his garage," she interrupted.

"My point is, asking questions is important when looking for information for a case."

"Okay," She turned her attention back to our case. "So, what camera angle is best to use to capture evidence?"

Have you ever heard of a 'face-palm'? That's exactly how that question made me feel.

"It doesn't matter. Just take the picture and be done with it."

"Alright!" She lifted her camera and snapped a photo of our suspect. I urged her to get a picture of that strange pet of his as well.

"What are we gonna do with these?" She asked right after the photos developed.

"This is a start," I said. "These are our mug shots. Once something out of the ordinary happens, snap it, and we'll sort them later."

We lay in wait.

And lay in wait.

And lay in wait.

After about two hours of laying in wait and seeing nothing but Jet fixing that robot, I was beginning to wonder if I was investigating a lost cause.

"Okay, seriously, we've been here forever, and we only have two pictures. Can I go home now?" My impatient partner asked.

"Not yet," I said. "He's still there. We still have a chance to find evidence."

I felt a drop on my nose. It was beginning to rain. Skylar knew it too; she shoved her camera into her jacket and got up, saying "We need to go."

"We can't," I argued. "Our target is still ne-" That's when I realized that he was gone, along with his pet and robot.

"Come on," she said. "I'm not staying out here and getting wet."

I tried to get out of the bush, but I was snagged on the branches. I couldn't get out!

Man down!Man...down...

The next thing I remember, I was inside, laying my head on Skylar's lap. "What happened back there?" I asked.

"You freaked out because you were caught in the bush. I had to pull you out and carry you inside." She sounded exasperated with me. "It was just a bush, dude."

"Oh..." In hindsight, I do think I was overreacting to my situation. But then, if you were snagged on a bunch of branches, where one wrong move could rip your clothes or scratch your skin, at least a little panic would be almost inevitable.

"Well..." I continued. "I suppose 'thank you' is the appropriate response."

"No worries," said Skylar, "but next time I'm skipping your detective game."

That was one week ago today.

Even though I didn't exactly express it the best, I truly was grateful for her help. Sure, she was clueless, but she still had the right spirit and endurance that I look for in partners (on the rare occasion that I have one).

I may not have found any evidence that day, but days will never stop coming, and chances will never stop presenting themselves.

Case closed...for now.

- Mitchell Peterson