Drats! Foiled Again!

Imagine James Bond arriving home to his swinging bachelor pad after a hard day of fighting international villains. He staggers up to the door completely exhausted from the rigors of being a Special Agent and discovers his key won't work. Apparently, that recently happened to Special Agent Prehn.

Based on intel gleaned from Marty's latest meltdown, he is currently locked out of the Lair of the Mongoose. The locks were changed while he was busy seducing the latest Elder Dawg hottie. Can't you just imagine the despair Marty must have felt knowing he wouldn't be able to lay on his pallet on the floor and drift off to sleep watching MVZ masturbating with a stuffed Alpaca, trusty bottle of hand lotion nearby?

At first thought, I wouldn't think a simple door lock would have much effect on Marty. Lock Picking 101 has to be one of the first classes he took when he arrived at Langley. Maybe he left his lock pick tools in his other pants or in the nightstand at Linda's. Unfortunately, Marty must have been unable to find a window he could fit thru. Thankfully, he had the restraint needed to keep from pulling out his service revolver and just shooting off that pesky lock. Were the locks changed because of non payment of rent? Did the landlord discover Marty's makeshift crock pot toilet?

This situation needs to be resolved quickly as this could be putting our nation's security at risk. A virtual treasure trove of classified information is buried in that pile of crap he left behind.

Marty Prehn's World of Real Estate Woes

How would you like to own a lake access cottage in northern Michigan for only $873.64?

Marty Prehn is once again, looking a gift horse square in the mouth, and we're not talking about Helen Childers this time.

Having inherited free of all encumbrances, his parents lake access cottage appears to be heading to the same fate as his late mother's house due to Marty's complete disregard of his responsibilities.  You may recall that while under Marty's control of her finances, he neglected to pay the property taxes on his mother's home for two years, ultimately resulting in a tax foreclosure.  This was the primary residence that his parents bought, maintained and allowed their good-for-nothing son to live rent free in.  It went to the tax man for a mere $582.33 before the sheriff kicked him to the curb. 

To Marty's credit, he did the only thing he's good at in an attempt to save the ol' homestead - beg for money!

His benefactor last time was Florence "Take my Money" Iverson, who sent Marty $600 through his Legal Defense Fund scam.  However, being the financial wizard that he is, Marty used this act of charity for other purposes - likely junk food.

If history is any predictor of future behavior, you may deduce that:

A) Marty will hit Flo up for an extra $900 to his existing monthly stipend.

B) Marty will eat it.

C) Marty will lose his inheritance to tax foreclosure.

Thanks, Mom and Dad!