Dr. Abortion, Payton and Deadman Inc are no more. Some time has passed and they have all slipped into their new and proper titles for the event.

Scarlett: …And that, my dear Mr. Brown, is how Albert Einstein was interrupted by three pestering Care Bears that were lured by his copy of Lizzie McGuire's diary. Feeling frustrated, he skillfully reached for his ice pick and poked every last one of them in their eyes. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent because the Care Bears flew back to their disease-infested clouds of happiness in retreat. That's when Einstein heard the fake gravity machine rolling up. It was Isaac Newton. THE END!

Brown: Zzzz…*snort*… what? Oh right. You were telling me a story about gravity being fake. A BORING story.

At this point, the artist formerly known as Deadman Inc begins to stir.

Lavender: Ugh. What the hell happened? Someone is going to PAY WITH BLOOD!

Alas, Lavender is unable to remember. The knock to the head made him forget the last seconds of what happened – those last seconds being a wrench to the head.

Scarlett: You know, it was the damnedest thing I have ever seen. This wrench just jumped out of nowhere and attacked you.

Lavender: WHAT? You expect me to believe that crap?

Brown: Calm down, Lady Lavender.

Lavender: DON’T CALL ME THAT. MY NAME IS DEADMAN INC. And people who cross me get sent to their-

Scarlett: Wait… Deadman Inc? Did you say your name was Deadman Inc?

Sure enough, this is news to Ms. Scarlett. Nowhere yet had Deadman actually said his name to anyone or anyone called him by his name. But the mentioning of it makes Dr. A remember.

Scarlett: Hrm. You didn’t happen to be in the CWA in June 2004, did you? Tagging with some loser named Ruff?

Lavender: Yeah, I was there. What’s it matter to you?

Scarlett: Uhm… hello. I was there. That was my first comeback after I lost the Evil vs. Evil match two years earlier. I got off the drugs and steroids, stopped being all bulked up, and got rid of those valets and managers that always held me down. I went to the CWA for one month. But then I got lazy and quit.

Brown: Stopped doing drugs? From all that talking you do to imaginary people, I highly doubt it.

Lavender: I don’t remember you.

Scarlett: You and Ruff fought me and Roboman in a tag match. That was my tag partner. He transformed into a coffee machine, you know. Then I think I eventually sold him for scrap metal. Oh Lady Lavender, those were great times. No wait, I forgot that they sucked. Never mind.

Lavender: DO NOT CALL ME LADY LAVENDER! I WILL-

Scarlett: Ugh. Still whining about the name? All you’re doing is trying to change the subject. And the subject is how YOU ARE THE MURDERER!!!!

Dunnn dunnn DUNNNNN

Lavender: WHAT?!

Brown: Well, one of us twelve wrasslers has to be. And it’s not me so I’m down to 11 suspects.

Lavender: Well it’s not me either!

Scarlett: Is that so… DEAD-MAN-Inc? Sounds to me like you are the head of a multinational conglomerate that is in the business of producing one product – DEAD MEN! Like Mr. Boddy!

Lavender: Look, I was just and shocked to see that dead old man as everyone else was. I didn’t even know him. He was just some rich old guy that invited us to his mansion. What would I have against him?

Scarlett: Perhaps he was blackmailing you… with these PHOTOS OF YOU HAVING SEX WITH DONALD DUCK!!!
(Easter Egg: http://www.oocities.org/doctor_abortion/deadman.jpg)
Ms. Scarlett holds up an array of crayon pictures drawn on manila paper. Damning evidence if ever there be.

Brown: You’re out of your mind Dr. Ab- I mean… “Ms. Scarlett.”

Scarlett: Oh really? Because if Lavender isn’t the murderer – then it’s obviously YOU!

Brown: And how do you figure that – what with you not doing any investigating at all yet and getting us locked up in a worthless Billiard Room?

Scarlett: Please Mr. Brown, don’t insult my intelligence. It’s come to my attention that you are, like Mr. Boddy was, a rich man!

Brown: Excuse me? Oh wait. Are you talking about the $10,000 I got from the S.A.V.F.? Please, I’d hardly call $10,00 “rich.”

Scarlett: Your devious plot to murder all rich people until you are the only rich man left may have fooled the police – but it doesn’t fool me!

Brown: Idea – how about we all get up and search for clues instead of you making crap up.

Lavender: Agreed. Let’s check this room thoroughly.

And so they all get up and start looking around. Not Ms. Scarlett though. He doesn’t help much in these situations. Instead, he’s on the table making out with Jessica Alba.

Brown: Why is he humping the pool table?

Lavender: Just ignore him and maybe he’ll ignore us.

Now, a Billiard Room isn’t exactly a room full of cabinets and dressers to hide lots of things in. But there are still a few nooks and crannies that the two can search to see if they missed anything.

Brown: Here’s a closet. Looks like it has a bunch of game equipment in it. Here’s a fold-up roulette table. Some stacks of gambling chips.

Scarlett: All of which you don’t care about because the only game you like to play is cee-lo, hoodlum!

Mr. Brown ignores the comments and continues through the closet. An old candlestick drops out and rolls onto the floor. What was that doing in there? Meh, it doesn’t matter. I mean who has ever heard of someone getting killed with a candlestick anyway?

Lavender: Wait a minute… this wrench here. This could be a clue!

Brown: You mean the wrench that Dr. Abortion hit you wi-

Scarlett: -OH! You mean the wrench that jumped out of nowhere and attacked you without provocation? Yep. I’ll bet anything this was the murder weapon.

Lavender: Well, it doesn’t have any blood on it.

Brown: It doesn’t have to have blood. Blunt trauma could have been enough.

Lavender: Yeah, but we haven’t even been able to look closely at the body yet. So we don’t even know what he was killed with, let alone if there was blood.

Scarlett: OH MY GOD!

Brown: Do you see a clue?

Scarlett: NO! It’s a painting… of DOGS PLAYING POKER. This is by far the most classy and sophisticated Bar Room Brawl I have ever been in.

Lavender: You’d think a rich millionaire could afford something better than that trash.

Scarlett: TRASH? Dogs Playing Poker is trash? Ho ho ho. I think not.

Brown: Well, does the painting have a key on the backside of the frame? Or is there a safe behind it?

Scarlett: Lemme check!

And thus we are left with a stunning, amazing and awesome cliffhanger that will leave us all riveted like the ending of an old black and white movie serial where Rocket Man is in peril. Yeah boy, Rocket Man is straight up the bee’s knees.