[ WP ] You and your Arch Nemesis are forced to save the world together .

It was a dark, cold, and stormy night, like something out of a cheesy black and white detective film. I, ace detective Ray Valthazzar, had been put onto a diabolical case no one else could crack. All across the nation, power shortages had been popping up like zits on a sixteen-year-old's face. And like said zits, these power shortages were both annoying and embarrassing. All over the country, people had to deal with the mild discomfort of living without electricity, which is more annoying than all the sand that gets in your bathing suit at the beach. An energy company, DP, had hired me to crack this case. They would investigate it themselves, they said, but they were too busy causing oil spills to put any resources on it. So crack it I would, just like a walnut falls prey to a nutcracker. But this case was n't just any ordinary case. No sir, there was about as much difference between Mother Teresa and my ex-wife than this from any other case. Yes sir, this mystery and every other case were as different as black and white, night and day, and this post from one that is actually quality writing. Why was that case different? Why am I using so many analogies? Why do you keep asking all these questions without actually asking them? Well I'll tell you. 
 
 It was because my arch nemesis, Simon Varsenhoff, had also been put on the case. After all they said, detectives were just like oil spills and potato chips. You could never have just one. Either way, Varsenhoff had stolen the credit for my investigation of the candy store robbery, the grand theft of $ 3, and Jack the Reacher ( a serial litter picker-upper ). And let's not forget about the incident with the train and the asparagus. That was worse than when you sit down to poop before you realize there's no toilet paper. That was worse than when a vending machine takes your bill without giving you the credit. That was worse than when you realize you're 32 years old and have done absolutely nothing with your life. It was that bad. Either way, I had to work with Varsenhoff, and it was n't going to be pretty. In fact, it was going to be uglier than my ex-wife's soul. Yes, dear reader, that ugly. 
 
 Moving on, our intrepid little duo went to the DP plant where most of the shortages had originated, having crawled forth from there like a roach from under the bed in a cheap motel room. We talked with a few employees, who only told us that they did n't get dental, and decided to have a look around ourselves. Varsenhoff stopped me. 
 
 `` Listen, Valthazzar,'' he said in a calm tone, like the monster he is, `` This case is out of your league. Why do n't you go investigate a cereal box and let the pros handle this one.'' 
 
 I let the smug bastard know exactly what I thought of him, an opinion similar to the one I have of my ex-wife. This was a matter of the utmost importance. The fate of the world hung in the balance! And if anyone was the pro there, it was me, Ray Valthazzar, ace detective! 
 
 `` Valthazzar!'' he yelled, `` You are n't a detective! You never were! You just put the name on your office door and started taking ridiculous `` cases''! 
 
 Now my nemesis was lying to me, right in front of me! I'm Ray Valthazzar, ace detective, mind you! His lies were darker and more evil than monsters under the bed, Cthulhu, vegetables, and the NSA! He had me angered, so I told him to run along before he got hurt. It was at that point that he walked off, leaving me behind, more alone than the time I joined the Ray Valthazzar Fan Club. We are currently accepting new members, in case you were wondering. I hesitated for a moment, like a fat man deciding whether he wants two or three big macs. But like that same fat man deciding he'll have three big macs, I went after my mission wholeheartedly. I chased after Varsenhoff, running through hallways, looking for him and the source of these diabolical power shortages. 
 
 When I found him, he had already stolen the case, faster than that same fat man finishing the three big macs. He swept it away from me faster than my ex-wife swept away my happiness. He snatched it from right under me, like... like... oh goddamn, I'm running out of similies. Anyway, he had found the solution to our little mystery. One of the generators had been switched off by a disgruntled employee, who still was n't getting dental. It was so simple. Simpler than the decision of whether or not to divorce. Simpler than [ monosaccharide ] ( http: //en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Monosaccharide ). Simpler than my nephew's addition homework! Simpler than the plot of this story! Simpler than downvoting a post in r/new! Simpler than hating this post! Simpler than the plot of Kill la Kill ( which if any of you have seen, you know is almost nonexistent )! 
 
 Varsenhoff just sighed, his evil shoulders slouching a little as he said this, as plain as day: `` I'm getting too old for this sh*t. Those corporate bastards are gon na be getting a big bill from me.'' 
 
 But, just like the DP employee's misdirected attempt to procure a dental plan, Varsenhoff failed to get his pay. The DP execs were too busy `` cleaning up another PR oil spill'' as they said. And I, Ray Valthazzar, sat back in my chair, having a good laugh. I had saved the world, and Varsenhoff did n't get paid. But then again, it's just another day on the job for Ray Valthazzar, ace detective.
