Kurt smiled as he poked his head out from behind the large red curtain.

"Hello" He waved nervously to the readers.

"I've been asked to clear up a few things about our show tonight." He smiled. "You know? Point out the clues."

The readers sighed appreciatively.

"First off, ve had the date – Thanksgiving. Dis vas a big one." Kurt relaxed just a little seeing how the readers were listening attentively.

"Another good clue came from Bobby when he vas flipping channels. The news was talking about the anniversary of the daring 1971 … Then it cut off, remember?" Kurt let his head tilt to one side as the audience murmured to themselves.

"And really, those two clues – Thanksgiving and 1971 should have been enough to let the Internet find Cooper's name for you."

"But there were more." Kurt grinned. "The photo of Xavier placed him at gate 52 of the Portland International Airport – The same gate and origin of Coopers flight. Dis vas the picture that Xavier said Was one of the last ones had had of himself with any hair. Remember? Vell feel free to compare that description to the police sketch of Cooper – I'm sure you can find it online."

Kurt smiled. He felt like he was getting good at explaining things – and over his fear of audiences.

"Really, it's a vonder that Xavier wasn't caught way before now." Kurt continued. "I mean, really, it's just a little hair!"

The audience laughed appreciatively.

And Xavier rolled his chair up on to the stage behind Kurt.

"It's like Superman and the glasses, right? I mean, come off it." Kurt smirked and the readers began chuckling slyly at Xavier's expression.

"I mean, honestly, to think that you could get away with something like …"

But Kurt hesitated as Xavier closed his own eyes and pressed his fingers to his temples.

And, suddenly, Kurt's eyes flew open

He looked scared, nervous, and out of place. "Ahhh, so this concludes our program for this evening, thank you and goodnight!"

Bamph!

He vanished in to a cloud of smoke.

And Xavier turned his attention toward the readers. He pursed his lips and closed his eyes; his hands still on his temples…

And you began to forget why you were reading this.

You have no interest in D.B. Cooper.

In fact, you don't even recognize the name, let alone … the man.