The ULS (Ugandan League of Supervillains) launched phase one of our secret plan (codenamed “Operation Kidnap or Rescue Mukula and Muhwezi”) last night. I can report that it was a success.

Iva— I mean, Long Raider went in first. His brief was to cause a diversion by posing as an itinerant manicurist/pedicurist offering to do Mrs Mukula’s toenails in a small plastic basin and subtly seducing her at the same time. With Mike’s cunning watchdog thus distracted, the tactics team was able to freely storm the mansion to seek out our quarry.

He wasn’t easy to find. We went from room to room to room, and still was no sign of him until after the seventeenth room, electronics expert Rogue Trooper caught a blip on his radar indicating that the quarry was in his computerised bathroom.

We kicked the door in. He was hunched over a little keyboard, keying in the code that flushes the toilet.
“You’re coming with us!” I bellowed menacingly.
He looked up. “Who are you?”
“Shut up! I ask the questions around here!” I shouted. Then sniffed. “And the first question is, what is that smell?”
“Sorry,” he replied sheepishly. “Mongolian buffet at Kabira Country Club for dinner. It never agrees with me.” He shrugged. “Excuse me.”

We waited as he punched in the rest of the code. 412568. There was a sudden sloshing sound and then a calm, throatless, robotic, female voice said, “Flushing complete.”
“Heh heh. I know that voice,” Dr Despicable said, with a chirpy  voice that was not appropriate to the situation at all. “That is the chick who bes in the MTN thingy telling us our airtime is finished.”
“Yes, she does freelance work as well,” said Mike. “You are a fan? You want to meet her? She is very down-to-earth.”
“Shut up!” I snapped again. “We are not here to chit chat! Besides, why would I be a fan of people telling me my airtime is over in the middle of my conversations? Put your hands out and we handcuff them!”
He put his hands out.
“Idiot! Wash them first!”

We were at the gate half an hour later (it is a huge house. And our map expert needs to stop drinking on the job.) where we encountered a glitch. “Where is MisAndry.? She is supposed to be here with the getaway van,” I wondered.

A small voice next to me said, “Ooops.”

“No. I swear. Tell me I didn’t just hear the guy who was supposed to arrange for our getaway van just say ‘oops.’”
“Sorry boss,” Whimpered Valley Dam. I was going to call her, but then I was watching Cuandos and I forgot…”
“Oh the rolling of eyes! The wringing of hands! The agonised utterance of cusswords! Well, what are you waiting for? Call her now!”
Dr Despicable looked up from the kabiriti at his ear. His look wasn’t reassuring. “It’s no use. They tell me she’s in Ngamba Island with chimpanzees.”
I took a deep breath. Whooo-saaah. “Well, Let’s round up a couple of bodabodas. Are there bodabodas around? ”
“In this neighbourhood?” Dr D, shrugged. “What for? Everyone who lives here has like one SUV per limb. There are no bodas here.”

A rumbling sound interrupted us and Mike nudged me with his handcuffed hand. “Excuse me. Guys?” He said through grit teeth.
“What!”
“I think I need to go to the bathroom,” he said.
“Dude! You were just IN the bathroom!” Could exasperation mount any higher?
“I know. I know. I really shouldn’t eat Mongolian…”

So stage one of the plan was successful. We managed to kidnap and get Mukula out of his house. Stage two, getting him out of the house and over to our hideout, was not so successful. Valley Damn gave him our business card and we agreed to return after the Christmas break.

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