Idaville was a normal American town, except for two odd details which made it different from any other American town. First, it wasn’t located in any particular state. Second, it boasted among its otherwise colorless citizenry The Greatest Boy Detective in the Universe, Encyclopedia Brown.
His real name was Leroy, but everyone called him “The Greatest Boy Detective in the Universe Encyclopedia Brown,” because otherwise he would not answer them. He would instead pretend not to hear them, and make “la! la! la!” noises while covering his ears with his hands. He was smart, but weird, like Alan Keyes.
After school and on weekends, Encyclopedia ran a detective agency out of his dad’s garage with Sally Kimball, the prettiest girl in Idaville, and the toughest too, with firm, toned thighs, and the legs of a gazelle. At least, they said they were running a detective agency, and their sign affixed to the garage door read:

One Wednesday afternoon, the two sleuths heard a knock. After only a few moments, they opened the door to reveal two old men in navy blue suits. One of them, bald with thick spectacles, asked, “Are you Encyclopedia Brown? We need you to solve The Case of the Misbegotten Memos.”
“I recognize you,” said Encyclopedia. “You’re Dick Thornburgh, former Governor of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania and Attorney General of the United States! You’re as seasoned as a Cajun crawdaddy on garlic toast!”
“That’s correct,” answered Mr. Thornburgh. “And I see that you are aware that Pennsylvania is one of the four U.S. states that officially calls itself a commonwealth. Now I know we’re hiring the right detective. You’re as bright as a lighthouse in a supernova.” He carefully inserted a check for 25 cents into the elastic waistband of Sally’s bicycle pants.
Encyclopedia nodded. “The others are Kentucky, Massachusetts, and Virginia,” he replied.
“And you,” said Sally to the other man, “you’re Sid Caesar, Emmy-winning comic actor and writer, best known as the leading man on the 1950s television sketch comedy series Your Show of Shows!”
“Actually, no, I’m Louis Boccardi,” said Louis Boccardi, “former head of the Associated Press. I get that a lot.” Mr. Boccardi reached into the briefcase he was carrying, pulled out a few sheets of paper, and handed them to Encyclopedia. “What do you make of these? We are, um, unable to authenticate them at this time.”
(Continued on page 2)


