So I’m thinking about equipping myself with night-vision goggles. It’s not that I particularly need to see better in the dark. I have eyes like a cat, due chiefly to the fact that I only come out at night. I only want the night-vision specs because everything tends to look more dramatic in that ghostly green glow. Look what it did for Jodie Foster. One minute, she’s picking moths out of a cadaver; the next, she’s a star.

If you don’t get the reference, ask your nephew, the creepy one with the horror-movie posters on his wall. Knock before entering.

It’s all part of a commitment to my new career as Reward Collections Agent. I’m ditching this downtown gig and going where the money is. Everyone is offering a reward for something these days. Giant Grinch swiped from the yard? Offer a few thousand clams for its return and impress the heck out of your kids. Shih Tzu escape through a crack in the wall? Put some dough out there before the squeaky pooch gets used as bait.

An Auburn college is currently offering 10,000 G’s for the capture and prosecution of the villain who’s been scrawling bomb threats on a bathroom wall. Ten thousand! I’m thinking the person behind this kind of lowbrow threat can’t be too hard to figure out. I suspect he might have even included his name and number after the “for a good time call” portion of his message.

For $10,000, I’d be more than happy to go deep undercover disguised as a urinal. I have a urinal-shaped nose, kind of, and I like meeting new people. A couple days of latrine surveillance and bam! I’ll have your stinky bomber delivered.

With $10,000, I could buy even more gadgets for the vocation and a true career would be born. Like one of those sonic ears old people use to listen to the television. I can use one of those suckers to overhear secret police conversations and pick up “Matlock” episodes when there’s a lull.

There is money to be had, my friends, but you have to read the fine print. Rewards come with particular criteria spelled out in tiny lettering at the bottom of the offer. Catching the bad guy is never enough. The person putting up the money might insist, for instance, that the culprit be caught, prosecuted, placed into a drafty cell and never allowed to pick the television show in the jailhouse lounge.

Not long ago, a man plowing a lot at an Auburn hotel flirted with reward money when he spotted a vintage automobile that had been stolen a few towns over. I’m not sure if he collected the $10,000 being offered because he failed to yell: “My goo, one, two, three!” before making the call.

You’ve got to be careful. And you’ve got to watch out for other people seeking the big reward money. You won’t encounter Harley-riding beasts like Dog the Bounty Hunter out there because the payoff isn’t big enough for that action. But you will run into Cloris the Retired Librarian looking to supplement her bingo money with a large reward. If Cloris catches you sniffing around her prize, she will give no thought at all to punching you in the nose and delivering a classic eye gouge. Cloris is one mean mother and she dons a great urinal disguise.

Me, I plan to go the easy route whenever possible. If you’re a Grinch stealer, a dog-swiper or a bomb threatener, sooner or later guilt will eat at your insides like a termite chews a wooden leg. You will want to turn yourself in but the logistics of doing so will absolutely baffle you. Do you go to the police department with your hands up? Do you write your confession on a bathroom wall?

Let me worry about that, hapless hoodlum. I’ll arrange for your surrender, give you a lift to the cop shop and even let you wear the night-vision goggles to enhance the experience. Everything is better in green.

Coming up next week: my search for the thief who stole a guitar by stuffing it into his pants. No reward is being offered, but seriously, aren’t you a little bit curious about what else he might have in there?

Mark LaFlamme is the Sun Journal crime reporter. You can e-mail him at [email protected].