... and this time it's real.
See, my neighbors are like richer then hell... and Mr DeWeese was a senator. He used to entertain presidents and such at their house. We share a driveway, so naturally my house was the 6000 square foot "guest house" for... who else...
the Secret Service.
Yeah, thats right. The coolest effing people in the whole darn country. The most stereotyped too... but still nonetheless the coolest.
So here's the scoop. After working on my house for what seems like forever, my dad discovered...
*insert thematic music here*
the secret room.
Yes, this secret room was designed particularly for the purpose of protecting the president or the secret service from... what else? Air raids, that's what. Bomb shelter.
Unfortunately, my dad is a butthead and wont tell us where this room is. For the life of us, we cant find it. We formed search parties, searched high and low, even interrogated the man, but the best we can come up with is its in the house, and either upstairs or downstairs. Thanks, dad.
Yes it exists, and it is my life goal to find it. Although it has previously been discovered by my father, it probably has nothing inside, at least nothing that I've imagined.
Oh maybe a few WMDs, dead bodies, secrets from the former Soviet, spy gear, stuff that kids like me arent supposed to find out about because of America's secreative government. Heck, it'll just take some looking around... ripping out of carpet... stripping of the walls and pulling out of bricks. No big.
Yeah, I'm cool. And I will find it.