Officers from the NYPD, in conjunction with the Secret Service’s Rapid Response Team, raided a sewer this morning. No, they weren’t just looking for the FBI director on another of his Hangover-esque adventures, I thought that, at first, too.
Some of you may have seen, in recent months, the curious uptake of strangely dressed folks popping up out of The Big Apple’s sewers, at odd hours of the night. If you haven’t, that’s about the size of it. Groups of two’s and three’s, dressed in waders and minion costumes and such, rising to the surface, from places unknown.
I will admit, I was incredibly interested in finding out what was going on down there, as I’m sure a lot of others were, but I knew, in the back of my head what was likely going on.
Parties, hijinks. Drugs, tik-toks, in a forgotten cistern full of shit music and ancient symbology, somewhere.
I let it pass my mind.
Until this morning, when a group of three young men made the crucial mistake of exiting from their mysterious adventure via the manhole cover in-front of the hotel in which the UN dignitaries are being accommodated.
Suffice it to say, it has made their security services very nervous.
The three young men allegedly fled the scene in two vehicles, and while no evidence of any criminality has been uncovered, people seem to be taking it very seriously, too seriously, perhaps.
It looks like someone is going to have to talk about Fight Club, because the feds are on the way.
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