You decide you need some stooges.
Where do you find stooges? Do you put out an advert?
“Wanted: Three Stooges.”
You’re not certain that would send the right message.
How much are stooges paid, anyway? You wonder if you can pay them with smiles. Your smiles are rare enough to be valuable, you’re sure.
Do they need benefits? Are they organized? Do you need to contract with the Stooges Union?
You wish you could delegate all this out to someone else.
It’s why you need stooges. You’d only trust such matters with trusted stooges, but lacking any, you’re out of luck.
How many stooges do you need, though? Is three enough?
Three has a certain ring to it.
Perhaps you can convert some of your existing goons into stooges.
That one policeman… If only he had a mustache, he’d be perfect. Well, that and some extra bumbling. You like bumbling policemen.
You have a hankering to go down to the lake and do some fishing, but you don’t think that would find you very many potential stooges.
It would find you some fish.
Stooges aren’t intelligent, but they are, at least, a slight bit more intelligent than fish.
You wonder if fish might, in fact, be intelligent, but then think that if any fish were intelligent, those fishes certainly wouldn’t get caught on a fishing line, and so you’d be incapable of finding and hiring them.
Fishing for stooges just won’t be a workable strategy, you’re afraid.
You do eventually pop down by the lake with your newly-mustachioed stooge.
You fish.
You have a spot of adventure, complete with a chase and some hostage negotiations.
You find Albert.
You thought Albert could be a stooge, but apparently he had little desire to survive above water. You didn’t force him, so he died.
He was, however, quite tasty.
“Albert” is a terrible name for a stooge, anyway.
You still need two more stooges.
Though you’re not sure anyone reads it anymore, you order the one stooge you do have to put an ad in the paper:
“Wanted: Two Stooges. Contact Chief Stooge.”