Listen up mutts, and listen good! We’ve got a soldier missing in action, and not one of us is gonna rest until he’s back where he belongs. Impossibly Huge Scarf was a friend of mine before most of you were even stitched. He saved my ass in Chicago more times than I can count. Who was there to help wipe my eyes when I got maced with pepper spray by the miscreant who stole the pizza I was delivering? Who was there to help dry me off when the class of pledges I was educating wrestled me through the snow and threw me into an icy fountain? Who was there to disguise my face when I was engaged in criminal mischief, like the time I tried to steal that Hamilton Avenue street sign using nothing but my body weight and sheer force of will? And who was there to hide my shame when I failed to steal that sign, and instead merely bent the Hell out of it by hanging on it? I.H.S., THAT’S who! And I’ll be damned if I’m gonna leave him at the Eastside 9 Movie Theater to rot just because we were all too distracted by how disappointing Catching Fire turned out to be. Seriously, it’s like 1984 meets 90210. But I digress. Now let’s saddle up and go bring our boy back home! Also Starbucks. And maybe some gin.