All of this pain and heartache is the result of an ongoing issue that I've been trying to pretend never happened. If it works for politicians and climate change deniers, I figured it might work for me. I've run from this long enough. Ingrid has been missing for a while now (I checked the trunks of all of our test vehicles four times), and I think Omnicron Corp. stole her. I caught a glimpse of a model that looked just like her standing in the window when I snuck by the secret lab where I saw Bill and JJ conspiring against me. She was looking in my general direction and pointing. I was right back to the moment we first met, and it stung seeing her like that in AcMo's enemy's secret lab. I don't think she saw me. I was in full stealth mode, so I don't think anyone could have seen me. I hope she didn't see me because I wasn't able to hide my anguish at the time.
The police refused to accept a missing person's report because they claim Ingrid isn't a person. I know the truth is that they are being paid by Omnicron Corp. to obstruct me however and whenever possible. I wish I could get access to the SWAT team again. They could be trusted and they would find her.
Ingrid was a department store floor model when we first met. I used to visit her during my lunch breaks. We would talk the entire time about any and everything. We had an instant connection. She understood me, and while she never spoke, I thought I understood her. I had no idea, but it felt better to believe that. I think she let it be known that she was looking to move past her humble department store origins and onto more prominent displays. I wanted to help anyway I could. The decision was made before I had even thought of it.
I began to substitute Ingrid's parts for another model of similar build and appearance. It took a lot of visits, work, and time, but I managed to liberate her from that store. Since it worked when I smuggled Ingrid out of the store, I thought it would work when I tried to transfer our HQ1 to Omnicron Corp.'s HQ. Mannequins are not constructed in the same fashion as large buildings, so it's obvious now that my plan was never going to work. It seemed like a brilliant idea at the time.
Ingrid was a department store floor model when we first met. I used to visit her during my lunch breaks. We would talk the entire time about any and everything. We had an instant connection. She understood me, and while she never spoke, I thought I understood her. I had no idea, but it felt better to believe that. I think she let it be known that she was looking to move past her humble department store origins and onto more prominent displays. I wanted to help anyway I could. The decision was made before I had even thought of it.
I began to substitute Ingrid's parts for another model of similar build and appearance. It took a lot of visits, work, and time, but I managed to liberate her from that store. Since it worked when I smuggled Ingrid out of the store, I thought it would work when I tried to transfer our HQ1 to Omnicron Corp.'s HQ. Mannequins are not constructed in the same fashion as large buildings, so it's obvious now that my plan was never going to work. It seemed like a brilliant idea at the time.
Ingrid was relentless in her pursuit of prime gigs. That persistence launched her international modeling career. Ingrid and I traveled Europe on the fashion show tour for years. Those times were some of the best of my life. The real-life models were glorious and Ingrid never became jealous or enraged when I spent all of my time talking with them. The stories I could tell.
These trips all occurred before we had to pay for baggage. Ingrid used to travel in one of my many checked bags. Commercial travel became more difficult after the creation of the TSA and increased baggage fees. I tried to put Ingrid in my carry-on, but I was arrested almost every time because the x-ray tech confused Ingrid for a dismembered human which evidently raises red flags at the airport. Never mind the samurai sword I had on me, the plastic mannequin was a serious security threat.
The promise of a share of our stolen money wouldn't have worked on her because she doesn't care about that. Although she was always fond of pointing at large stacks of paper money. This is JJ's doing, I'm sure of it. He is a vindictive telepresence robot, and this is something he might do to attempt to cause me pain. I rue the day I ever allowed JJ to slow roll through AcMo's hallways with that speaking left wheel. It sounded like the screech of nails across a chalk board. I get mad just thinking about it. I will have my revenge.
I can't figure out how Omnicron Corp. got her, and it is troubling me. It took me months or weeks, I can't remember after all of this time, to liberate her. She doesn't move quite as fast now as she used to, and there is NO way Omnicron Corp. could have snuck someone in here to dismantle her. I would have noticed that. Unless...unless someone from Omnicron Corp. is already in here! No, that's an absurd thought. My security teams would have figured that out by now. Unless...the person is on the security team! Uh oh, this just got real! Our entire operation may be compromised.
The truth is that Ingrid's best days were behind her, but I didn't know what to do about it. She still meant the world to me, but she was beginning to show her age in a bad way. When I looked at her I saw the same Ingrid I met all those years ago, but others would talk behind her back about her deteriorating condition. Her skin had been peeling for years, and her gaze didn't seem to travel as far as it once did. Arthritis had started to take its toll on her fingers, making her once arresting point now seem feeble and far less authoritative. It was as if she was now only capable of asking instead of making a declarative gesture in the direction she knew she wanted to indicate. I felt bad but what could I do? Her joints weren't holding together after having been reconfigured for so many different displays. Essential maintenance had been neglected over the years. I know all about neglecting vehicle maintenance, but mannequin mechanics were and still are a mystery to me.
These trips all occurred before we had to pay for baggage. Ingrid used to travel in one of my many checked bags. Commercial travel became more difficult after the creation of the TSA and increased baggage fees. I tried to put Ingrid in my carry-on, but I was arrested almost every time because the x-ray tech confused Ingrid for a dismembered human which evidently raises red flags at the airport. Never mind the samurai sword I had on me, the plastic mannequin was a serious security threat.
The promise of a share of our stolen money wouldn't have worked on her because she doesn't care about that. Although she was always fond of pointing at large stacks of paper money. This is JJ's doing, I'm sure of it. He is a vindictive telepresence robot, and this is something he might do to attempt to cause me pain. I rue the day I ever allowed JJ to slow roll through AcMo's hallways with that speaking left wheel. It sounded like the screech of nails across a chalk board. I get mad just thinking about it. I will have my revenge.
I can't figure out how Omnicron Corp. got her, and it is troubling me. It took me months or weeks, I can't remember after all of this time, to liberate her. She doesn't move quite as fast now as she used to, and there is NO way Omnicron Corp. could have snuck someone in here to dismantle her. I would have noticed that. Unless...unless someone from Omnicron Corp. is already in here! No, that's an absurd thought. My security teams would have figured that out by now. Unless...the person is on the security team! Uh oh, this just got real! Our entire operation may be compromised.
The truth is that Ingrid's best days were behind her, but I didn't know what to do about it. She still meant the world to me, but she was beginning to show her age in a bad way. When I looked at her I saw the same Ingrid I met all those years ago, but others would talk behind her back about her deteriorating condition. Her skin had been peeling for years, and her gaze didn't seem to travel as far as it once did. Arthritis had started to take its toll on her fingers, making her once arresting point now seem feeble and far less authoritative. It was as if she was now only capable of asking instead of making a declarative gesture in the direction she knew she wanted to indicate. I felt bad but what could I do? Her joints weren't holding together after having been reconfigured for so many different displays. Essential maintenance had been neglected over the years. I know all about neglecting vehicle maintenance, but mannequin mechanics were and still are a mystery to me.
As much as it hurts that she might now be working for Omicron Corp., a small part of me is glad she is gone because I couldn't bear to have to disassemble her for the final time. I'm sure those fools at Omnicron Corp. will determine her condition soon enough. I just hope they don't conclude she's worth more as scrap. That would be going too far.
Upon further reflection, I can't let this be Ingrid's final chapter. It is my duty to rescue her, especially since I'm going into Omnicron Corp. anyway to retrieve our stolen money. Perhaps I'll even use some of that to fund a comprehensive restoration to return Ingrid to her former spectacular appearance. She could be back and pointing better than ever by Q1 2018 if everything goes well.
Upon further reflection, I can't let this be Ingrid's final chapter. It is my duty to rescue her, especially since I'm going into Omnicron Corp. anyway to retrieve our stolen money. Perhaps I'll even use some of that to fund a comprehensive restoration to return Ingrid to her former spectacular appearance. She could be back and pointing better than ever by Q1 2018 if everything goes well.
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