Tag: mystery

The Locker

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The custodian at the gym heard the too-familiar banging and yelling from the locker room.
“Not again,” he groaned.
He went to his tool chest, pulled out the bolt cutters, and headed to Davey Jones’ Locker.
Davey Jones was pounding on the door, calling the combination lock a backstabbin’ scurvy dog.
“Please stop that, Mr. Jones,” said the custodian. “I’m just going to have to bend all that metal back.”
The custodian snipped off the padlock and opened the locker. “Have you ever thought about just using a lock with a key?” he said.
At least he tipped in gold.

Shadow Birthday

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When Bob had his birthday birthdays, he always shared it them with his shadow.
Happy Birthday, Bob!
All of Bob’s friends would come over for cake and ice cream, and so did their shadows for the shadows of cake and ice cream.
Bob blew out the candles, and so did his shadow on the wall.
It was a race between Bob and his shadow to see who could open presents faster. It was always a tie.
Sometimes there was a goofy clown. Other times, a magician showed up to work his magic.
One year, a strange man came to make interesting shadow puppets.
The shadows of Bobby and his friends were entertained by the hands of the puppet-master.
Why? Well, since when have you seen a rabbit or duck turn into a pair of writhing hands?

The Bullet in the Bible

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bang*
Bucktooth Billy lay on his back in the dusty street.
He sat up and felt his chest.
No blood. His Bible had stopped the bullet.
Billy held it up, laughing.
“Holy shit!” he shouted. “Lucky Bible! Jesus has saved me!”
The gunslinger walked up to Billy and looked at the bullet-pierced Bible.
“So He has,” said the scowling figure. “Right up to Deuteronomy.”
“It’s a miracle!” shouted Billy. “I am reborn! I will fight no more and stand at the right side of The Lord!”
“Here,” said the gunslinger. “Let me help.”
The gunslinger shot Billy in the head.

Roast Duck

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During the winter, the King’s servants and advisors moved into the central rooms to converse fuel.
The oddest couple was the pairing of the court wizard and the head chef.
One night, the alarm was raised: ice demons at the gate!
The wizard grabbed a spell book and raced to the fight.
Without looking, he flipped to the page with Firestorm.
He read off a recipe for Roasted Rosemary Duck instead.
“It’s a cookbook?” he muttered.
The chef handed him another book. “I think this is yours,” he said.
They won the fight, and feasted on Roast Duck to celebrate.

Confessor

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We’re not sure how he did it, but all of the evidence points to this guy who walked in and confessed to the murder.
There’s one problem, though. The murder took place in the Fifteenth Century. A simple assassination in Rome. A bishop history barely remembers.
Fingerprints, DNA, and a painting from the time confirm it’s him.
Not just a long-distant ancestor. It’s actually him. He did it.
There’s no statute of limitations on murder and he’s confessed to the crime, so we’re going ahead with the trial.
Maybe he’ll tell us how he did it. And maybe he won’t.

Waking up

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Ned was laying on the couch when he woke up.
His roommate John was staring at him.
“What?” said Ned.
“You just appeared out of thin air, man,” said John. “Once second nothing’s there, and then all of the sudden- you appear.”
“Oh,” said Ned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t explain. I always wake up on the couch.”
“No matter where you fall asleep?” asked John
“Yup,” said Ned. “I know why, but it’s hard to explain.”
“Wicked,” said John. “Ever thought about using that to rob a bank?”
“No,” said Ned. “But it did get me out of jail once.”

Paperboy

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Teddy’s mother abanoned him.
She stuffed him into a newspaper vending machine instead of leaving him on a doorstep.
Every time someone bought a paper, they’d take a newspaper, but leave him in the machine.
Teddy grew up in that machine, learning to read from the headlines and living on free samples in Sunday editions.
“Hi, people!” Teddy said to people buying papers.
“Hi, Teddy!” people said back. “Bye, Teddy!”
Other machines showed up for alternative newspapers, circulars, weekly rags. What an eyesore!
The city passed a law making newspaper vending machines illegal.
Teddy’s machine vanished. And so did Teddy.

Sevens

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Back in Springfield, Raul and I would climb up the willow tree, lay back on the branches, and watch the moon through the leaves.
We pondered important things up there.
“Who’d win in a fight: The Magnificent Seven or the Seven Dwarves?” asked Raul.
“I have no idea,” I said. “Let’s find out.”
We looked down from the tree and watched a group of men in Wild West gear square off against brightly-colored little people.
The echoes of gunfire.
The clang of heavy mining equipment.
Blood everywhere.
The dwarves would have lost if the singing broad hadn’t have showed up.

Drag The River

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The last time anyone saw Nancy, she was down by the river.
With men. With guns.
“Drag the river,” I said.
Three days later, the divers had found a few cars, some guns, a lot of knives, and a pool table.
But no Nancy.
“Maybe they stuffed her into the pool table?” I asked.
“No,” said a diver. “We checked.”
“How about in the trunk of one of those cars?” I asked.
“No,” said another diver.
Nancy showed up three days later. She’d been on vacation.
I tried to refurbish the pool table, but it was a total loss.
Damn.

Perseids

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Perseus, Kentucky was the place to go to watch the Perseid Meteor shower.
In early August, Perseus bans all outdoor lighting to make meteor-viewing easier, but some years the full moon ruins the view.
The city council came up with a plan: launch a rocket during the new moon and shoot artificial comet dust to burn up in the atmosphere for a spectacular show.
It worked brilliantly.
Pretty soon, every community wanted their own meteor shower, more brilliant than the first.
Leave it to those crazy rich Saudis to go overboard.
Allah’s will, they whined.
Who needs an atmosphere, anyway?