Hey, Honey, I'm Home From My Run
This morning on the way to work we heard that the runner who'd been missing on Cougar Mountain has been found. Great news, we thought. Where did they find him? They didn't find him. He walked home. According to him he fell into a ravine while running on a trail and hit his head and was knocked unconscious. When he woke up he gathered some leaves around him and slept it off. Woke up again, walked back to the parking lot, dug his keys out of his sock or wherever, and, whoops his car had been towed. So he walked home.
Meanwhile, a massive search was organized. Hundreds of runners descended on the mountain over the weekend, scoured every trail in there and came up with nothing. King County sheriffs have been looking since Friday. Didn't find shit. Guy just showed up at home. No injuries, no hospitalization, no nothing. Unlikely, we thought.
"We're going to take his story at face value" said Sgt. John Urquhart. Well, we're not. Where the fuck was this guy? Sure, a knock on the head can be difficult for medical professionals to detect, and he could have been out cold in a ditch for the past three days, but, well, it smells. And if this guy is bullshitting everyone for whatever reason, fine. He doesn't owe Seattlest an honest explanation of where he spent the weekend, but a lot of people were out there looking for him. The next guy who gets abducted by memory erasing aliens is going to have a lot fewer runners out there in the weeds looking for him.
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