Naha’s Version of Scully and Mulder Track Down the Mystery Behind Owner Iyou Seigyoki
By Jim Bouton, Naha Shisa correspondent.

7/7/2013: Naha, Japan – After reading Koukyo Juunin’s incredible article, “Who in the World is Iyou Seigyoki?”, my curiosity was piqued.  Juunin is well known as an irascible, xenophobic curmudgeon, but he is also known for telling it like it is.  I happen to believe that this endearing trait makes up for a host of other shortcomings.  It was time to take matters into my own hands and investigate further.

I decided to enlist a young mind to aid me.  I met Shin Suitougakari in front of the office building housing washlet manufacturer Nyu-Gijutsu Toiretto’s brain trust.  CEO and owner Seigyoki was well known for never leaving his penthouse suite.  I was rather stunned when the sixteen-year-old beauty looked me square in the eye.  I have retained most of my six-foot height, so she had grown very tall for a Japanese woman.  “How goes your aspirations to become the next star Naha Shisa centerfielder?” I asked her.

“Terrible!” she wailed.  “I’m the star of my high school baseball team.  I can run, hit and field, and I have all kinds of baseball smarts, but I can’t talk my parents into transferring me to a Nihon Koyaren high school.  They want me to concentrate all my energy into my career as a journalist.”

“That’s probably good advice,” I told her.  “Besides, I’ve watched you play.  You have a rag for an arm.”

“That’s what cutoff men are for!” she scathed in a voice reminiscent of a harpy’s.  I felt a pang of pity for her future husband.

“Well, let’s see if we can find a way to spy on what’s going on inside that penthouse suite,” I deflected.  Her countenance instantly changed to one of flaming curiosity.  Surely, her photo was placed securely next to the definition of mercurial.

Naturally, the elevator was locked out from opening upon the penthouse suite, so we let ourselves out on the floor below.  It was almost 8:00 p.m. during Friday evening, so the office hallways were completely abandoned.

While Shin is precociously mature in many aspects, she still retains some childlike traits.  When she cracked her gum as we walked down a long hallway, it rang out like a gunshot.  I thought I’d have a grabber right then and there.  “Will you please swallow that gum?” I rasped at her.  “You’ll give us away!”

“I always chew gum when I’m nervous,” she replied, still chewing her cud.  “Besides, my teacher at school told me that if I swallowed my gum, it would stay in my stomach forever and I’d look like I was preggo!  Do you want me to have to explain that to my parents?”

“Just this once?” I pleaded.  “It will be like you’re only four weeks pregnant and you won’t show.”

“Oh, all right,” she gulped.  “I make this sacrifice in the name of my journalistic persistence.”

At the end of the hallway, we found a door marked “Authorized Personnel Only.”  It was locked, of course.  “No problem,” Shin said mischievously.  “I always carry a lock pick!”

I gaped at her voluminous handbag.  “That purse does look like the stylish ones that girls your age seem to be carrying these days,” I observed.

“Yeah, well, I’m not your typically vapid teenager,” she said.  “I believe in being pragmatic.  I call this my inter-dimensional bag of holding.”

“What in the world is that?”

“Oh, never mind.  I don’t suppose you’ve ever played Dungeons and Dragons, you old poop!” she chided.

“Not in my wildest nightmares,” I agreed.

She quickly unlocked the door and it opened into a service area.  On one wall there was a ladder going up to a ventilation panel.  “How convenient,” I observed.

“Indeed.  Why do I feel like I’m starring in a bad episode of Star Trek?” she asked, reasonably.

“Because the person scribing this screenplay is a comparably bad writer?” I offered.

“Foul!  You just tore down the fourth wall!” she acidly accused.

“Age before beauty,” I said as I began climbing up the ladder.  The panel opened up sideways and was plenty big enough for me to crawl through.  I slithered down on my hands and knees through the long vent with Shin trailing behind me.  I then regretted the huge plate of sushi that I ate for dinner.  I could not help but release an S.B.D. bomb.

“Oh… my… gawd!” Shin hissed behind me, sounding every bit the valley girl snake.  “I think I’ll just wait for you at the bottom of the ladder!”

I paid her little mind as she made her retreat.  I could see light up ahead and knew I was nearing my target.  When I got there, I looked through the grate and saw that Naha owner Iyou Seigyoki was seated at a conference table with GM Tom Fees and Aiko the Android.  Seigyoki indeed looked as otherworldly in person as he did in the pictures I’ve seen of him.  I listened in on the conversation.

Fees: “…and even with them down four pitchers, Kuwana is a force to be reckoned with.  We simply need more hitting to be able to keep up with them.

Seigyoki: You’ve been saying that all year.  Before all the injuries, we we’re scoring plenty of runs.

Aiko: As of June 30^th, we were scoring 5.13043478260…

Fees and Seigyoki (together): Enough!

Fees: I’d think a programmer of your genius could stop her at two decimal places, J.P.

Seigyoki: I told you not to call me that anymore.  For all intents and purposes, J.P. Schmuck no longer exists.  Besides, what’s an android without a couple of endearing bugs?

Fees: Well, I still miss the old days and buggy androids make me nervous.  Let’s get back down to business.  Sakutaro Otsuka is still available as a free agent.  He’d make a great number two hitter, and then we could plug Kikuchi in as the leadoff man.  The top of our order is destitute, as it stands.

Seigyoki: What is Otsuka asking for?

Fees: It’s all about the money with you, isn’t it?  Well, he’s looking for an annual rate of $11,000,000.

What I saw next will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life.  Seigyoki’s head literally spun around at a rate of at least 120 RPM.  Not like a top as in The Exorcist, but like a carnival pinwheel.  My surprise was such that I loosed a prolonged burst of flatulence that echoed through the building’s ventilation system.

Fees: What the hell was that?

Seigyoki (head abruptly stopping spinning): It sounded just like Gideon’s trumpet!

Fees: How would you know what that sounded like?!?  No… please don’t tell me… I really don’t want to know…

Seigyoki: Must be a glitch in the sound system.  Aiko, please check that out…

With that, I hastily retreated back down the vent back to a chagrinned Shin.  Before she could chastise me regarding my dietary habits, I told her what I’d seen.  “I can’t believe it!” she said.  “The Naha Shisa owner is an alien!”

“I don’t believe in that garbage,” I told her as we strode back into the elevator.  “There must be another explanation!”

But is there?  Obviously, Seigyoki’s head is some kind of prosthetic device, but why would he require one?  Perhaps he is deformed, like the Elephant Man.  This matter requires further investigation, but I think I will leave that to somebody else.  I like my gig with the Shisa, so I’ll just leave the story where it is and let you, dear readers, speculate amongst yourselves.  If there is a big cover-up in the Naha front office, it will eventually see the light of day without my help.