JUST THE FORECAST MA'AM

The story you are about to hear is true. Some of the names have been changed to protect the innocent. The guilty ones, I left their names the same....

Von Woods drove his 4 wheel drive Hummer up the rocky path to the National Weather Service in Peachtree City. The area had been suffering through some turbulent weather and VW, as he was called, was just the man to handle the problem. In the nasty business of weather, Von Woods was what you called a Fixer.

VW slapped Sky Wilson on the back as he entered the complex and poured himself a stiff cup of Joe. Temperatures were rising among the staff as the barometric pressure was dropping and the jet stream looked like a pretzel on steroids. Lately, trying to predict the weather had been as difficult as a thunderstorm in July.

VW raised his hands to calm his troops. "Tina, get me this morning's isobar readings, Mike recalibrate the hygrometer, Jeff, turn on the radio, get us some Salsa Music!!" The weather team collectively gave a sigh of relief. The Fixer was in the house. Things were gonna be alright.

VW moved quickly through the corridors; pinup posters of local weatherman Glen Burns flapped in the wind from the air mass that followed along. An autographed photo of model turned meteoroligist turned Sports Illustrated model Nancy Loveland was blown to the floor. Her scrawl read, "Von, I've got flurries for you." Sleet Morris hardly slowed VW from his jaunt as quizzed "Hey VW, did you hear the Mexican weather report? Chili today and Hot Tamale."

VW burst into his office and laid the crumpled envelope on his desk. "You got another one didn't you?" VW was startled to see Misty Raines looking out his office window. "Let me see it," Misty said. It was the 5th ransom letter Von Woods had received in as many weeks. Inside, a sentence was formed from cutout letters that read: "Make it sunny or the groundhog gets it." On the outside the name read: L. Neenyo.

"This is getting serious," VW said. You could see the sweat forming a low pressure system along his brow. "I have no control over the weather. People know that don't they?" Misty replied, "Some people have the IQ of a dew point, VW, don't overestimate this mad man." Misty's voice hung in the air like a dense London Fog, "Or mad woman."

"I have to figure this out," thought Von Woods. "The answer is here somewhere, who could be sending these notes!" VW shivered as he looked out the window now too. The window was slightly open, Von had a cold front.

About that time Sky Wilson came running in, "We have an emergency, come quick VW." Things looked cloudy on the weather systems floor. Staff people were huddled around every open computer terminal. All the systems were down. The same sentence was running across every monitor, "Make it sunny, or the groundhog is ground round!!" Von Woods' anger thundered from his voice, "Who is this mad man?"

All of a sudden, lightning struck Von Woods. He breezed back into his office. As he turned over the ransom note, he realized it had been written on the back flap torn from a Hallmark Birthday card. "Think, think," he thought. He opened his drawer and looked at the other notes. They too, had been written on torn Hallmark Birthday card flaps. The last card had the words written, "Happy 100th."

A broad smile flooded Von Woods' face. His happy lips raised like a freshly released weather balloon. "Misty," VW yelled, "Get me NBC retirement services, I have our man." Von Woods' teeth sparkled like sunlit snow. "When you get them on the phone," he smirked, "Just ask for the whereabouts of .. Willard Scott."

Billy Murphy -- 3/12/98