Twybill's Core

The salient physical properties of the core were that it did not jump out at
us, though the jumping about came a bit after we presumed our investigation.
It was 1-3/4" in diameter, flat on one end and bumpy on the other, standing
somewhat 2" in extension. It was of a whitish gray color, resembling a
lightweight concrete. The bumpy end had a 10 ga. steel wire running through
it, and a telltale trail where another wire may have been crossed. I can
understand you concern as it may have been the only extant evidence of
parallel lines intersecting. There seemed to be a numeral "2" inked with a
black pen in a rather crude hand indicating a personality lacking in
sophistication of dubious gender and to my suspicion a recent illiterate from
New Guinea. Though there is room for confusion with the handwriting of a
college professor from New Orleans that I met at the Fulton Fish market last
Easter. We were both delighted over the morning supply of Halibut. Looking
over his shoulder as he wrote a note to his wife, I assume not his mistress,
I noticed that he marked a "2" very similar to the numeral found on the core.
Regardless, the core was several smidgens lighter than the brown bottle that
at the time, for the very brief time, I was honored to be holding in my right
hand. Would you care for a description of the salient characteristics of the
bottle? Though I have no longer in my possession the exact same bottle as I
had at that intersection of fate I'm prepared to procure another one and
reduce it's contents to an equivalent weight as the first. I await your
direction. I'd like to tell you more about the core, but as we were passing
by Sardi's an itinerant burst upon my intent examination, grabbed the lump
out of my clenched fist, and ran down a nearby alley. Believe me, knowing how
important the core was to your project I put up a valiant struggle and broke
a nail. This is where we jumped. But then I thought twice about jumping and
stopped jumping as I was splattering blood on my suit pants. As I was about
to enter a taxi, and you know how difficult it is to get a taxi so early in
the morning, to take me to Genni's Massage Parlor over near the Jacob
Javitt's Convention Center, I did not feel inclined to pursue the lucky bum.
What he thought of your core I have no clue. I suppose he may have intended
to chink up the corner of a refrigerator box. My plans lay elsewhere. If you
require further detail on the salient physical properties I recommend you
return to the arabesque dome where you had the curious core first completed
and resume to extract another. I know a proctologist, an historic
preservationist in his spare time and a great technician with a boroscope,
that will be pleased to serve your investigative needs on overtime.

Shaman