2023 TC Treasure True Story Treasure Hunt

This is the history of a maladroit mystery
From the land of 10,000 flakes—
Belief dis-suspension enhances the tension
And raises the snowbound stakes;

Let it be said that the challenge ahead
Lies just beyond the pale—
To twist and embellish, with Coenesque relish,
A homespun murder tale.

So stomp through the snow in search of the dough,
A satchelful of glory—
And scavenge a scraper to solve the caper
THIS IS A TRUE STORY.

Hauling the freight across the state
To a dingy dive in Fargo,
The man on a mission, a bungling tactician,
Hands over the keys to the cargo.

Cooking the books to pay off the crooks,
Jerry doubles down,
As Carl and Gaear, the hapless pair,
Steal away through town.

Dispatching a cop at a traffic stop
Just on the outskirts of Brainerd,
The crooks catch the eye of two passersby
And things take a turn for the wayward.

Large and in charge, expectant Marge—
Brainerd’s chief of police—
Is phoned to the scene from slumber serene,
Rousted out of her peace.

The couple on board the ’84 Ford
Were witnesses to the crime;
They fled, but sadly, things went badly—
In the wrong place at the wrong time.

Don’t get caught nappin’! A lot can happen
Out here in the middle of nowhere;
It’s finders takers on forty acres—
Just scout the location and go there!

Stick to the plot to find the spot—
A challenge to chase down the goods;
The pathway follows through widest hollows,
Wending ‘round the woods.

So circle the lake to the edge of the brake
And scrape through the snow for the case;
A pretty sweet deal will help you reveal
The secret hiding place.

To hoist the flag, recover the bag
Where the boys directed and starred,
Making a scene on the silver screen—
Right in their own back yard.

Abruptly completing their midday meeting,
Jerry, Stan, and Wade
Hash out the terms—as Norm gets his worms
And the fugitives split for the glade.

At a seedy spot on a lakeside lot,
Marge interviews the pros—
To collect intelligence, gather evidence,
And glean where the story goes.

The Gundersons gorge on a smorgasbord,
Feasting at Fryer Tuck’s,
While quick-tempered Carl hits a minor snarl—
A matter of four measly bucks.

Things get bizarre at the hotel bar
Between Marge and Mike Yanagita
As Carl cavorts with a jaded escort
At a local dinner theater.

Jerry the feckless—cowardly, reckless—
Tiptoes on thin ice,
So vengeful Wade attempts the trade
And pays a costly price.

Concealing the cash in a secret stash,
Carl returns to the shed
As the curious cop makes a breakfast stop,
Dissecting the case in her head.

While the garrulous goon finds it opportune
To take the Olds and make tracks,
The greedy Gaear doesn’t find that fair,
So he gives his partner the axe.

Returning to make a trip ‘round the lake
Near the edge of her jurisdiction,
The chipper sleuth arrives at a truth
Considerably stranger than fiction.

And soon thereafter, the final chapter:
The cops close in on the fink,
Tolling the knell at the old motel
To haul him away to the clink.

Lost in the shuffle with all this kerfuffle?
There’s just one thing left to do—
A little amending for an alternate ending
To make the story true:

Follow the plot, going shot for shot—
The movie as your map;
By boxing clever and working together,
You’ll solve it in a snap!

Find your thrills at Westwood Hills,
Where things get a little bit meta—
On the platted plot of a would-be lot:
Those 40 acres there on Wayzata.

We hid the goods at the edge of the woods,
Where the brothers used to roam—
Past the pond found just beyond
The fence of their childhood home.

So traipse and tromp across the swamp
And follow the boardwalk trail
To trudge and trundle through the jungle
In search of the holy grail.

Stop for a rest at two abreast—
A moment to survey the scene;
Take a seat, get off your feet,
Then search the gap in between.