Deputy Tallstone was apprehensive of this Friday the 13th and wondered what kind of bad surprise awaited him. He was sipping a cup of coffee with his assistant in the break room when he noticed his office mailbox wasn't empty. Intrigued, he came closer and saw what appeared to be a letter bearing no stamp or return address. He grabbed his handkerchief and carefully retrieved the envelope. On it was written this simple address:
POLICE HEADQUARTERS
TIM TALLSTONE
Tallstone pulled out his pocket knife, cautiously cut the envelope open and extracted a single page.
"What the heck does this mean?" he shouted. He turned to his assistant: "Robert, I want you to send this to the lab immediately, I want to know who is behind this and how this thing got here. Tell them to run all their tests on it: fingerprints, X-ray, UV light, DNA analysis, you name it. And fax a copy of this gibberish to the NSA, see what they come up with. I want the results by the end of the day".
A few hours later, the telephone rang on Tallstone's desk. "Sir, this is Robert. The results are in. There's nothing."
- "What do you mean nothing?"
- "Everything is clean, they couldn't find any clue to identify the author, nothing."
- "Like there would be any doubt in my mind about who did this..." mumbled Tallstone. "Anything from the NSA?"
- "Well... I got a call from them too. First of all, the director was not amused by the fact that we didn't follow the protocol. He even used a four-letter word, something like "RTFM" and said we should have sent the page in the original envelope instead of faxing it. Then he asked if this was some sort of a bad joke becaus...". He was interrupted by loud knocks on the line. "Sir, is everything okay?"
There was no response. Tallstone was banging the handset against his head in desperation.
You can validate your puzzle solution with certitude.