MY MOTHER WAS A

TEENAGE HOOKER, WITH

A PENCHANT FOR SAUERKRAUT

OR

I, KNOW WHAT. YOU DID!

LAST? CHRONICLES!

"Hello Phirl."

"Hello Birl."

"What’s all the comotiern about thin?"

"I dern’t know."

"You know what I heard?"

"No."

"I was told thet the killer irs irn the palece!"

"Fancy thet."

"Yis, scery irsn’t irt?"

"Yis, scery."

"Good firsh and chirps, ay Birl?"

"Yis, good."

The ancient one was keen to get inside the palace. He knew what it was that he had to do. He had run off in excitement at the airport. He couldn’t believe that he was in yFalminica finally. When he had got back to the plane Al had already left.

Since he had come out of the lab, the world had been very daunting. He had once lived in modern society, but that was a long time ago.

He looked at the new watch he had obtained just minutes ago. It was time, he decided.

"Argh!" Igor screamed.

"What?" Gamblor responded.

"Nothing, it’s just that when this killer does come I don’t think that I will want to stay around. So I am screaming now, so I have more time to get away later."

"Mmm, interesting logic," Al thought.

"Is everyone here?" They had all gathered in one of the visitor’s quarters. They had with them all their possessions.

"Everyone that is still alive," Daemina said.

"What? You mean the Baron and Mercedes?" Igor sobbed.

"Yes," Bob confirmed, "I am afraid so."

"But they were my secret loves." Igor got some strange glances from around the room. "I mean . . . ah . . . where are my decent gloves?"

"Oh," everyone said, but no one had the answer.

"Anyway," Al said. "Since the killer isn’t one of us (we hope) we are all going to flee the country and sit this one out in Guatemala."

"Sounds good to me!" Bob said, thinking of all the bare-breasted women picking nice ripe papaws from tall trees, which they just can’t quite reach. "Oh, Bob, could you please help me with this ever so tricky papaw?" he said to himself.

"Say what?" Al asked.

"Ah, nothing."

"But before we go," NTM said, giving Bob a concerned glance, "we have to make sure once and for all that none of us are the killer." Once again NTM’s Sherlock Holmes garb reappeared miraculously and the room was shortly full of small, swirly (oh my god swirly the nec!) puffs of smoke.

"So, we can start by ruling out those who couldn’t have done it." He turned to Igor. "Igor, you are surely innocent, as you were with myself when the poor Gorf was slain, and you Daemina, were also in my presence. As was Mercedes, but that is irrelevant now, I suppose."

He paced up and down in front of them all, directing Daemina and Igor to stand across the other side of the room. "AFOC, despite my displeasure that Igor revealed to you the much-famed Tassel Routine, I must admit that you were also with us on the night in question.

"AL, as far as I can tell you were in Italy, so join the group."

"What about me Mirrors?" Gamblor asked.

"Sure get over there!" He walked up to Cleo. "You miss, claim to have been with Captain Homes de Pants, yes?"

"Oh, yes, certainly. Not that it got me anywhere."

"Mmmnggklm," Captain Homes dribbled.

"Well, were you with her at the time, Homes?"

"Mmmnggklm," he repeated.

"I will take that as a yes." NTM stroked his beard thoughtfully. "So if you both claim you were together then you may well be both innocent. Yes?"

"Yes!" they both smiled.

"But, you could both be responsible for the crime, or it could be a crime of passion." He looked at de Pants and wondered if this could be possible. "So we cannot entirely rule you in or out.

"Join the group for now." NTM moved on to Immortal Radioactive Cream. Gamblor was standing next to her. "Excuse me Mr. Silk, you are making it very difficult not co-operating. Get over in the group!"

"But she’s just so attractive," he whispered to NTM"

"Would you stop saying that, we have heard you already! Go over there," NTM growled.

"Immune Reincanated Catsup, you . . ."

"IT’S ILUMINATED RAIN CLOUD!!! YOU WILL BE DELIVERED EXCESSIVE PAIN IF YOU EVER GET IT WRONG AGAIN!!!"

"OK, well that is rather incriminating." NTM thought that perhaps he should move onto to Bob, but stuck to the hippy instead.

"Do you have anything in your defense?"

"Well, I am all for peace and harmony and love, I live for the glory of being man. Whoa, that wall is just begging for love, it looks so lonely, so bare." She approached the wall, taking out a yellow crayon.

NTM thought. Yes she certainly was a hippy and carried on about peace and harmony all the time, he doubted that she could be violent.

"So, Bob. Old Bob. What’s your defense?"

"Well I don’t really have one . . . wait a minute how could it be one of us in the room? We were all locked up when those security guards were killed!"

NTM had forgotten this but was not deterred. "Oh, innocent are we? Is it true then that your name ‘Bob’ stands for Blind Old Bore."

"No . . . ah, certainly not." Mental note, Bob thought, they know too much.

"Never hurt a fly, would you? Hey? Or what about a deer?"

"Eh?"

"AFOC, the slides!"

"Gotta love a slideshow," Gamblor yawned.

Anvil-Falls-On-Coyote pushed a small trolley into the room, on top of it was a slide projector. A large breasted beauty in a red, barely existent bikini walked through the room with a sign proclaiming: ‘slides’.

"So, Mr. I’m Innocent. How do you answer to this?" The projector was turned on. "1956, your birth. Look at the happy parents, aren’t they proud?" There were several ‘Oohs’ and ‘Aahs’ around the room. "Yes they were proud, but little did they know what there son really was. Next slide! 1969 – here you are at school aged 13. And what’s that in your hand? A gun?"

"No it’s a sti . . ."

"When exactly was it that you became a delinquent?"

"Wha . . .?"

"And here 1973, you are pictured here wearing a hat."

The room went quiet in anticipation.

"And here in 1974, is this you in the crowd taking part in the mass rally? And what about here in 1978? Am I right in assuming that you are smoking a joint here?"

"No, that’s just a mark on the pho . . ."

"What about in 1983? Here it is, the evidence. Wouldn’t hurt a fly hey? Well here is the Deer! This lovely animal, frolicking in the wild, and you just had to bring it down didn’t you? Did it make you feel powerful?

"How about on this fishing trip? Did you enjoy hooking those poor guppies?"

"Stop, stop . . ."

"And wait on now. Is this what I think it is? Yes! It’s you in 1986, standing next to the Chernobyl Nuclear reactor! What do you say now!"

"Please . . ."

"Perhaps this will refresh your memory? 1992, a still from an American sitcom." There were gasps in the room. "Did you or did you not appear in an episode of Major Dad?"

"No, no . . ." Bob cried, tears coating his cheeks.

"What’s wrong? Can’t take the pain?"

NTM circled him twice, glaring menacingly. "And here and here . . . and here . . .what about this? . . .and this . . .Here you are . . . and again.

"And in conclusion I remind you that there is documentation and photographic evidence placing you at the Battle of Gettysburg, at the OK Coral, on the Grassy Knoll in 1963, in the Watergate hotel and on your knees in the oval office just last year. Now what do you have to say."

NTM puffed on his pipe, as silence maintained itself in the room.

"Well, pardon me," Al began with his best Columbo impersonation, "There’s just something I don’t understand."

"What is it now!?"

"Oh it’s just that . . . well, your out of your f#$king mind!!!"

"Yeah," Igor agreed, "That’s ten minutes of my life I will never get back. I am out of here."

"S’pose," NTM conceded.

They headed towards the door when they heard something behind them . . .

"Lieutenant Blinky, are you prepared for time travel."

"Oh yes," Blinky replied.

"OK then good luck!" the General called.

"Setting co-ordinates, date."

"Remember Blinky, this is essential! If you fail, the world as we know it will cease to exist."

"Yeah, yeah. You kinda made me not so confident now."

"Oh, sorry. Oh well, you will have to go now, good luck. And remember ‘Weasel on the edge, don’t give for Samson soon with pine go.’" Blinky still didn’t understand this saying of his future world. It had become part of the colloquial language, and was meant to make everyone feel brave and proud. All it did for him was provoke confusion.

Blinky flicked the switch on his small machine and felt that pleasant sensation in his groin that is associated with timetravel.

The effect was the alternative to Viagra and the feeling was the alternative to sex.

A camel appeared suddenly in the room.

"Argh!" they cried in response.

The camel seemed dumbfounded. It was not expecting this and it was further not expecting this sort of behaviour. What do I do now? It thought.

"Argh!" the humans continued.

"But . . ." the Camel pleaded, using it’s left front leg to scratch its single hump with amazing flexibility.

"Argh!"

"Please, I have to . . ."

"Argh!"

"It’s a matter of . . ."

"Argh!"

The camel blinked, its translucent eyelids flickering wildly.

"Argh!"

"Oh very well then." And it disappeared.

"Whoa, I’m tripping man," Identified Roaming Canon cried.

Then a second surprise occurred. A man with black hair, and a flakey scalp walked through the door.

"Argh!"

"Yes, scream. Ha ha ha ha ."

"Argh!"

This was further continued when almost simultaneously two men appeared, one at either end of the room.

"Argh!"

"Cicci! Weren’t you like dead?" Al cried, and then continued. "Argh!"

The other man had a bad eighties hairstyle which Al correctly identified as being the one he pioneered. Igor immediately recognised him. "Blinky!" She ran and hugged him.

"Argh!"

"Argh!" Replied Cicci.

Then a very unhappy man crashed through the window on the end of a rope ala Indian Jones.

"Argh!"

He was a muscular sort, long hair, Italian appearance.

"Magnio," Cicci and Igor cried.

"Argh!"

The cupboard opened, two men stepped out. "Hillo thin."

"Argh! Kiwis! Argh!"

"Argh!"

"Argh!"

This carried on for several more minutes, before everyone questioned themselves as to whether this was absolutely necessary. Then the room fell into a devastating silence.

Once everyone was quiet they all heard it. It was outside. They could hear the plaintive breathing, the rustling, the murmuring. Everything stopped inside the room, except for Cleo and Captain Homes de Pants.

"Sex, yes?" Cleo whispered.

"Mmmnggklm," Homes replied quietly.