This is Libby.

And this is…

…an anteater wearing a necklace eating Cheez Whiz.

And this is…

Breaking the Libby.

Here goes…

Day Zero:

The Kawasaki Concours motorcycle has removable hard luggage which can lock. As it turns out, there are only two keys available that fit all the luggage ever made for this bike… some use the A key, while others use the B key. Libby’s uses the B.

Day One:

Today’s item—the first—was a can of Red Bull. Big enough to be noticed, something he might’ve put in himself but didn’t.

Today’s wrinkle: The luggage wasn’t locked.

When I got there, Dave was standing by his bike drinking a Red Bull. I figured he found it, thought it was a bonus, and drank it. But then he finished it off, got rid of the can, and went into his luggage for something. It was then that he found THE Red Bull and a total WTF look crossed his face.

I am loving this game.

Day Two:

Dave got a second Red Bull today. The luggage was, as before, unlocked. The key is itching to be used. Maybe I’ll start locking the baggage myself.

Day Three:

Today we put a package of cigars in Dave’s luggage. I’m not exactly sure they’re the exact ones he usually smokes, but they’re likely the correct brand.

Today’s surprise: The previous can of Red Bull was still there.

Day Four:

There’s been no Libby Breaking for awhile now—Dave’s been driving to work in the VW. But when he does, I’m ready. A box of Jello tapioca will go into the luggage that has all his stuff. A jar of Marshmallow Fluff will go into the empty one and, if all goes well, will bang around and make its presence known.

What do you guys think about locking the Fluff side, so he knows that something truly weird is happening? I’m torn about whether to blow his mind immediately or string it along for a while…

Day Five:

A quick update: Libby came in waving mushrooms around and making accusations. Not a word on the Red Bull. There’s some weird psychological thing going on vis-a-vis the Red Bulls. We should all write a scientific journal paper.

I asked about the luggage. He said it was a pain in the ass to lock it. I think he’s enjoying the game and is afraid that it will stop. I also think now would be a good time for us to lock it. That may provide the necessary push to diva-mode.

You mean he’s enjoying the free Red Bull and is afraid it will stop.

Day Six:

It was a good day for breaking the Libby. He came in with much to say this morning.

Yesterday evening he walked out of the building with Noah Dionne of the Help Desk. He said to Noah: “Noah, when I open this sidebag, there’s going to be something in there.” And so there was. In full sleuth mode, Dave noted that the Red Bull in the severed hand was warm. As a result, he thinks he can eliminate Celeste as a suspect. He repeatedly checked his bags at home on Sunday night and Monday morning. The only way it could be Celeste is if she snuck by after work on Monday. But the Red Bull was so warm he thinks that unlikely. So his former #1 suspect is probably not the culprit. (Later he did remark that he doubts it’s just one person in on it.) The hand and Red Bull went home with him and awaited Celeste in their refrigerator.

At one point during the story-telling he had a crowd around him of six people, all of whom were in on it and all asking pseudo-innocent questions, muddying the waters and winding Dave up.

Priceless.

Year Two, Day One:

The usual calling card, a Red Bull, and a pepperoni.

We’re back.

Aha — anyone who knows about me & pepperoni would also know that’s not my brand! Nice try implicating me though…

Anteaters…

…paint surprisingly well.

Day Two:

More tubular meat.

Pretty reliably, Dave comes to the pod to tell us what’s going on with his motocycle luggage.

Is he really there to inform us or is he probing for incriminating reactions?

We must not underestimate the wiliness of the Libby.

Day Three:

I’m proud to announce that no fewer than three pepperonis—all different brands, none Dick’s—were deployed this week.

Day Three-and-a-Half:

So today I walked out with Libby and he told me to watch out as he opened the case on the bike… I said what are you talking about? I think he was a bit disappointed that there wasn’t anything there today. And he filled me on the magical food leavers… going through everything that has been left, and that this year it has just been pepperoni… He was surprised I hadn’t heard about it…

I said, wow that is weird, he said Celeste is still his main suspect… and she keeps telling him that she can’t get to his work, to which he replied… that she has minons at DeLorme who could do her work for her… I said… wow… Celeste and her minons!

Celeste has not been entrusted with The Truth.

Sweater Anteater sez…

…use the key already!

So we will.

Day Four:

We put six marshmallow products in the luggage today, and then locked it. We’ve moved to Level Two.

Holy crap, level 2… things are getting crazy in Maine today. I predict a full scale diva-mode freakout. I’d pay good money to see his expression.

I caught the Libby just as he was getting ready to leave the building on Monday. I suggested we go over to the lawn to set up a tent of mine that he was interested in for his cross-country bike tour later this summer.

It became apparent to me as we were walking down the stairs that we were going to pass by his bike on the way out to the lawn. Given that this was the actual day that I took part in the BTL and we had taken it up to a whole new level with the key, I knew I would have a hard time keeping a straight face if I joined him at the bike. So I kept walking.

He told me he would pull his bike around and meet me over at the lawn. “There’s going to be something in my bike compartment,” he said. “What?” I asked. “Someone has been hiding stuff in my bike compartment for a while now,” he replied. “What kind of stuff?” I asked. “Pepperoni sausages, red bulls, other stuff,” he said with a slight grin. “Do you like to eat the stuff?” I asked. “Yeah I don’t mind some of it.” I kept walking.

Over on the lawn I began to set up the tent, only to hear Dave mumbling a few cuss words under his breath. I looked over and realized he was trying to open the locked compartment. “What the ####?” he yelled. Fight back the laughter Dan, fight back the laughter. “The bike compartment is locked! Someone has taken the keys right off my desk when I wasn’t looking and come out here to hide more stuff!” he yelled. “Whoa,” I replied. “That’s borderline Dave.” I kept setting up the tent.

A moment later when Libby managed to get both of the locks open he called out “Whoa! Marshmallows! There’s like seven bags of marshmallows in here! And a jar of pink fluff!” I looked over as he held up the Fluff to show me. “Weird, man!” I replied with a perplexed look on my face. Finally he pulled the bike around and checked out the tent.

Discussion from last year approaching implementation:

Do you think that the Jiggler variant [of Jello] can suspend a Red Bull? I wonder if he would reach into the Jello for a Red Bull?

That is the ultimate question… what would Libby do upon finding RedBull suspended in jello? It is like Tantalus with the water and grapes always out of reach… he wants the Precious, but will he touch the greatest of evils to save the Precious?

Day Five:

Oatmeal! Dave can’t stand it—texture or smell.

In other news, the Libby is talking about stepping up his game. He’s talking of photographing the inserted items, maybe even fingerprinting them. Still no mention of a hidden camera.

Day Six:

Unnamed Operatives X-1 through X-5 formed a cabal to Break the Libby with an industrial roll of toilet paper and still more marshmallows—this on the first motorcycle day after about a month of Libby driving his car to work.

The storm clouds were rolling in after work, so Libby was anxious to get on his bike and head off for home. When the luggage wouldn’t open: “Oh come on! This is getting ridiculous!” Breaking…

The Libby and Mrs. The Libby have a Japanese exchange student. She’s got a camp cookout to go to, so The Libbys took the opportunity to offer up their cache of marshmallows—and marshmallow fluff—for the event.

Omniscient Narrator says: “After that, Libby went on his cross-country motorcycle ride. He returned ready to get off the bike. And stay off. He never rode again to work that year. Not once.

“Time passed. The cold came, then the snows, and the motorcycle was drained of fuel and stored.

“More time passed. The days grew longer and warmer, and the snows began receding.

“And then one Monday, Libby unwisely declared to anyone within earshot: ‘I am going to ride my motorcycle to work on Wednesday.’

“The machinery went into action immediately. The statement was confirmed. The payload was prepared. The camera was readied.”

Welcome to Year Three of Breaking the Libby.

Day Zero, the theme of which is “Contributing to the Delinquency of a Minor”:

The dispatch reported:

We have a new accomplice who has been told this is a secret… like when you buy someone a gift and can’t tell them… except that this is a joke because the Libby doesn’t like Jello or marshmallows so the question is… will he reach in to get the Red Bull which he loves?

Lots of questions like… Who does this? Who knows? How often? Where do you hide? How do you get pictures? But the best was when she asked… how many marshmallows are you going to put in and I said… all of them and she said… Mom Unspecified Co-Conspirator… you are EEEVVVIIILLLLL!

Day One:

Libby is a man of his word and rode his motorcycle to work on Wednesday. We waited until he was in his stocking feet and grumbling at his computer to strike.

It was a first for the BtL Project: He rode his KLR dual-sport bike (“dirtbike” if you want to press his buttons) instead of his Kawasaki Concours. This was fortuitous because the key to the Kawasaki luggage had been momentarily misplaced. We had easy access to the KLR’s unlockable saddlebags, it all went smoothly.

All day Thursday, Libby said nothing. He was baited—“You ride your bike again today?”—to no avail. Until after hours.

We’ve had a physical reorganization at work. With new coworkers in proximity and the day giving way to evening, Libby pulled up a chair to tell the tale to two who hadn’t heard it before. He told of pepperonis and Red Bulls. He told of suspects and the exonerated (including yours truly—yes!). And he told of that which had shaken him most profoundly (the big bag o’ oatmeal).

And the two he told? Libby could not see their guilt. They appear in pictures above.

Day Two:

On this day, the Libby received a pamphlet on intestinal parasites.

He never spoke of it.

Day Three:

Tapioca and rice pudding. Libby doesn’t like Jello, but tapioca? Tapioca seems to offend him.

I walked out with Dave. He immediately opened the tampered-with luggage—for no other reason than to see if anything had been put into it. (He had nothing to stow.)

“Damn it! Nobody knew I was riding in today! I expressly didn’t tell Celeste I was going to ride my bike!”

It seems Celeste—still in the dark—remains his prime suspect.

The mastermind behind Breaking the Libby,
hidden but engaged,
has not been pictured on this site.
Until now…

Day Final:

All good things must come to an end.

The Big Reveal is, after three years, imminent, so this was the last attempt—for the time being—at Libby Breakage. To his credit, he remains unbroken. Perhaps in 2010 we should try another approach.

But for now we have this two-fer: a “blood bag” filled with dark purple Jello. The Libby hasn’t ridden his motorcycle since the day of tapioca, so we had to attack his car. Thanks go to our unnamed co-conspirator (nom de guerre: “Sweeper Dave”).

The Libby found it at lunchtime and came back to gather suspects (to watch reactions) and rant.

“This is super sketchy! I’m having trouble just looking at it.”

“John might be involved. Maybe Emilio. I know Celeste had a hand in this!”

“I have no idea how they got the Jello in there!”

A: With a syringe.

2024 Postscript

Libby and Celeste were let in on the joke at a large Friendsgiving gathering at the end of Year Three (2009, BTW). There was a PowerPoint with all the pictures above, and commemorative t-shirts were distributed and worn. Here’s a photo of Libby wearing his.

Ultimately the project failed. Libby could not be broken.