Sunday May 13^th, 2012 – 9:00 p.m.

New Frontier Stadium, New Orleans, LA — Cooper Scott entered the dark office, took off his oversized “playa” hat and sat down in his overstuffed leather chair.  The only light illuminating the office was from the hotel next to the stadium, and Jack Cobb had to search for a place to sit among stacks of papers and discarded scouting reports.

“I just don’t get it, Jack,” Copper sighed.  Though the team had just lost another game to upstart Kentucky, Scott wasn’t thinking on that sore spot.  “I keep cutting costs in order to be in the mix for free agents over the next two years, and the bean counters tell me we can’t find several thousand dollars.  Not just any money, though… my petty cash, which, I mean… you know I keep receipts and track of everything.”

“I know, Coop,” Cobb replied.  “I imagine it is gremlins.  Seems to me the only answer.  Did you buy a cute, cuddly dog-looking thing and then feed it after twelve?  Or get it wet?  ‘Cause if you did, then you got gremlins, my friend.  And I don’t know a full list of what they might do, but taking your petty cash don’t seem too far below their abilities.”

Copper stared at Cobb.  “You’re joking, right?  Tell me you’re joking.  I am going out of my mind trying to save every penny and watch where every dollar is spent, and you want me to consider the idea that gremlins are taking major amounts out of my petty cash account?”

Cobb looked slightly offended.  “Well, you know I just don’t want you to not at least consider all the possibilities.  Doesn’t that Shatner fellow still have some giblets, or triblets… wait, no, tribbles, that’s it… running around?  Maybe they turn into gremlins?”

Scott stared out the window.  “I guess it was a bad idea to have that much cash in my big bag of important stuff.  Well, so much for the ‘Strikeout Cooper and Strike it Rich’ game.”  One of Scott’s new ideas for crowd entertainment was to go out among the crowd and allow them to ask him any trivia questions about PEBA players.  If they could get him to miss three in a row, then they won a thousand dollars – an amount that was held in his big bag of important stuff, along with his old uniform, glove, and possibly several bats.

Cobb, in a rare moment of cognizance, asked Scott, “Well, who all had access to the big bag o’ important stuff?”

Scott suddenly sat up straight.  “Well, there was me… and I am pretty sure I didn’t take it.  Tanner, though I am not sure he could find the key; he didn’t seem to impressed with the honor and importance I was offering with the chance to have a key to the big bag.  And Stanfeld, but that guy is my personal intern… what would he want with money, compared to that honor?”

Cobb bobbed his head.  “That indeed is a palindrome.”

“’Conundrum’, Jack; I believe your were looking for ‘conundrum’.”

Cobb squinted as if trying to recall something, and then said, “Nope, don’t want me a condominium; I like big houses with big backyards.  I always tell my realtor, ‘If I can’t shoot cans off my back porch, I don’t want to live there.’”

“You never cease to amaze me, Jack.”

“So like I was saying, I wonder if there is a listing for Gremlin Catcher in the Yellow Pages.  I believe it would be under the letter ‘G’… probably right between ‘Gardening’ and ‘Gutter Replacement’.”

Scott pulled out a pad of paper and wrote down two names.  “No, Jack, I believe there are only two suspects to consider: Tanner and Stanfeld… and I am sure hoping it’s Tanner.  That way we can be done with that jerk once and for all.

“Now to post my pictures from our fishing trip on Facebook for all my adoring fans,” Scott said as he turned to his computer.  Scott added a picture of him holding a giant bass and Cobb standing next to him holding a sign that reads “2 out of 3: Suck it, Evans”.