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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 0)
The invitation had arrived by snail-mail.
The sender had taken advantage of CanadaPost's inefficiency, and it
was possible to send the invitations disguised as Christmas cards,
inside a greet-more envelope. The mail sorter had not realized that Quebec
had started issuing their own postage stamps, but took note of it for
future reference.
Upon removing the white card from the envelope the invited guest read,
in neat block letters:
*********************************************
* *
* In appreciation of your contribution *
* to a Christmas present, you are *
* cordially invited to my home on *
* the second Friday of the month, *
* to join: *
* *
* *
* Thirteen for Dinner *
* *
* *
* JSC *
* BYOB *
* RSVP ASAP, OK *
* *
*********************************************
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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 1)
The little egg-shaped man was almost indistinguishable from
his more celebrated brother. The officer that greeted him and his
companion, had to take a second glance before he recognized the
discrepancies between their features. He noted the somewhat less
than perfect moustache and slightly less prominent ears than those
displayed on the familiar National Party of Canada poster.
"Mr. Perot?", he started.
"Yes", replied the egg-shaped man, "I am Achille Perot.
I have with me Corporal Beestings", he conitnued, courteously
introducing his companion.
"I'll try and get some iodine", the officer replied, ushering
them into the three-story apartment complex. "In the mean time,
this is the new proprietor of this block of flats. He will lead
you upstairs."
As they ascended the steps to the third floor apartment, a small
glint of recognition appeared in the realtor's eyes.
"You are Perot.", he addressed the egg-shaped man.
"Yes, I am.", said Perot, matter of factly, as Beestings erased
the pen marks from Achille's sleeve. Perot was impressed with the
realtor's keen mind.
"So, um, how's the campaigning going?", the realtor asked.
Achille's eyes dimmed, and he turned on his heel.
"That is my brother, Hercule Ross Perot, that you are thinking of."
"Oh. Well. I am sure that you will do. This is the apartment,
I'll be downstairs if you need me. Come down if you think you can
tell us what happened."
Achille watched the realtor descend the stairs, and then turned
his attention to the apartment. Carefully turning the key,
then the doorknob, the two men entered the apartment.
"My God what a horrid smell", Beestings exclaimed, using his
handkerchief to cover his nose.
"Ah, Yes", Perot agreed, "The death and decay, it hangs heavy
in the air, n'est ce pas?"
"No, I meant the landlord, WHEW! Take a bath already."
The odour to which Perot had aluded to hit Beestings momentarily
after that. As his companion slumped to the ground nauseated,
Achille Perot surveyed the small two bedroom apartment where
thirteen bodies were displayed in various death positions.
He bent down to examine the suede covered body that lay in the
front foyer.
What must have happened here? he wondered.
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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 2)
Danielle: All right, everyone is here, so all you have to do is
turn the oven down to 300 in half an hour, and let it cook for
another hour.
Jeff : Half an Hour, 300, cook for an hour, got it.
Danielle: Good, I'm staying at Karen's tonight, I'll see you tomorrow.
All I ask is that you don't tell me what you were talking about
unless Cam says something particularly funny. Have fun and
don't trash the place.
Jeff : Hey what's the worst that could happen?
Ed : So, are you going to introduce everyone, or what?
Cary : That's right I only know people by their e-mail addresses,
not by their party dresses.
Jeff : O.k. Well Cam is busy reading the comics, and Tom is
busy explaining Marmaduke to him.
Tom : Look! It's obvious that he's a BIG DOG and that a BIG DOG
is not going to fit through a small door.
Cam : Hey check last week's paper man! He knew how to open
a door, he ought to be able to open the door and eat
the litle shitzu.
Jeff : Russ and Huw are raiding the fridge.
Huw : Miller Genuine Draft and huh! Pabst Blue Ribbon?
How the hell did that get here?
Russ : Hey pass me a coke will ya.
Huw : What flavour?
Russ : Orange.
Jeff : Doug Shewfelt is handing out a banana.
Cary : A what?
Jeff : A banana.
Cary : Doug is handing out a banana.
Ed : A what?
Cary : A what?
Jeff : A banana.
Cary : A banana.
Ed : Doug is handing out a banana.
Doug : Let's just let that die right there.
Russ : Yeah, well don't blame me if some homicidal maniac attacks
you with a basket full of loganberries.
Jeff : That's Steve taking apart the telephone.
Steve : Um, I just wanted to see how it worked.
Jeff : And on the couch we have Vaughn, Paul, Gilles, and...
Gilbert : Ringo, pleased to meet you.
Huw : So, what's for supper? Kraft Dinner?
Cary : Do you think I'd fly all this way for Kraft Dinner?
Jeff : Don't worry, we're having meatloaf.
Gilles : Not meatloaf!
Gilbert : Anything but meatloaf!
Jeff : Hey! Do you guys have a problem with meatloaf?
Vaughn : Hey Jeff how about giving us the tour?
Jeff : Okay, follow me.
Paul : Yeah, you guys go, I'm just going to sleep on the couch.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!
Paul : Huh! I'm sleeping, whoever that is, he's just going to have
to knock louder.
Shake Shake Shake.
Paul : Oh man, someone's trying to break into the apartment.
I know, I'll just wait here and when he opens the door,
AAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaarrggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!
Gilles : What the hell was that?
Tom : Oh my god! Paul is dead!
Steve : He couldn't be.
Cam : No, look right here, he's the only one facing backwards
in Sergeant Pepper, and here he's the only one not wearing shoes.
Steve : Check the door.
Gilles : It won't open.
Jeff : Oh No! Those jerks at Royal Realty. We finally get a security
system installed, and they put it in backwards.
Cary : Well just phone downstairs, someone should be there.
Steve : Um, that's not such a good idea about now. How about if I
try to take the doorknob apart. Do you have a knife or something?
Jeff : What kind of host would I be, if I didn't have a good stong
kitchen knife around?
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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 3)
" Look Beestings, do you see what I see?"
" I think that's supposed to be Agatha Christie, on the
Sergeant Pepper cover. What do you think?"
" Where?"
" On the right, between Dylan, but above Lawrence of Arabia."
" No, that's just a wax dummy."
" Well it looks like Agatha Christie to me."
"Hmmph, I can't stand those silly little detectives of hers,
especially the pompous one. Anyway back to the case." Perot bent down
to examine the knife that stuck out of the second body.
"Apparently once they discovered that some fiend had cut the wires
of the telephone. They tried to escape by dismantling the door's
locking mechanism. If you look closely, you can see where the tip
of the knife has scratched away at the tumblers."
"Hmmm. Very interesting Perot, but why a knife? And especially
a Bowie knife. What could be his fascination with Bowie?"
"I do not know, mon ami. But there must be some meaning in it."
Perot drummed his fingers atop the ceramic figure of the laughing gnome.
"It's probably right under my nose, and yet I can't put my finger on it."
"Ah well, ashes to ashes Perot.", Beestings replied.
Perot led the way into the Kitchen. "mmm meatloaf", he said
helping himslef to a big portion.
"Perot!", Beestings exclaimed, "Isn't that evidence?"
"Not at all my friend it is meatloaf."
"I thought the French hated meatloaf."
"I keep telling you mon ami, I am not French. I am Belgian.
Uuuuuuuuurrrrrrrppppppp!"
"Oh, Perot, please not the Flem jokes again."
"And speaking of the French, what have we here at the table?"
"This man has been strangled!"
"Yes, and what else do you notice?"
"Really warm draft beer."
Poirot used his acute senses before announcing, "It is obviously from
a can. Besides that, what else do you notice?"
"Whatever he was strangled with, is no longer there."
"Precisement. He has definitely been strangled, but with what?"
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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 4)
Doug : Ok. Let me get this straight. Paul seems to have been scared
to death. Steve has a knife sticking out of his chest. And
Now Gilles has been strangled. I'd just like to mention that
nothing like this ever happened when we had dinner at MY HOUSE!
Gilbert : My own brother dead. Why did this have to happen now?
Tom : I'm sorry Gilbert. It's never a good time.
Gilbert : Well maybe when we were younger, but why now?
This is horrible.
Cary : Yeah you were supposed to turn the oven down to 300,
almost an hour ago. That thing is practically charcoal.
Huw : That's pretty low of you Jeff, killing Gilles, just because
he didn't like your meatloaf.
Jeff : I didn't do it. What makes you think I did it?
Russ : It's his storyline. He can kill off whoever he wants.
Ed : No that's too obvious. In stories like this it's always the
last person you'd expect.
Vaughn : Right about now, I'd say Gilles is the last person I suspect.
Cam : So, what exactly was he strangled with?
Vaughn : It looks like a piano wire or something.
Gilbert : No. It's his eyebrow. He has one unusually long hair growing
out of each eyebrow. They tend to grow upward to a peak,
and then curve back down again. Whenever one of these
falls out, another quickly takes its place. Watch this.
Ed : Just a second, let me get my glasses.
Tom : Wow! now that's a great party trick, um, all things
considered that is.
Russ : I think it's time we considered that these things were not
accidents.
Vaughn : Well, Duh!
Russ : What I meant was that some creative genius must be behind all this.
Cam : Well that rules out Jeff.
Tom : And Bruce Springsteen as well.
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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 5)
"Is there any other incident which I should direct my attention to?",
Beestings asked Perot.
"I think you should draw your attention to the curious behaviour
of the pets in the night-time."
"I didn't notice that there were any pets."
"That is the curious thing. Look here at the bookcase full of
Sherlock Holmes paraphenilia. What do you see?"
"I see that they haven't dusted in quite some time."
"Yes, but besides that?"
"The man lying underneath has been bitten several times!"
"Yes there are practically a Gigabite of clues."
"Python?"
"No, that's my own. I didn't think it was that funny."
"Giga. Now is that 10 to the 9th power, or 10 to the 12?"
"I forget, check the dictionary."
"He's lying on it, and all the pages are clotted. "
"Here, use my Merriam Webster, it's the ninth edition."
"It says Billion."
"An English billion or a Britsh billion?"
"I don't know. It just says billion."
"Remind me to write a letter to those weasels, they should
have corrected it by now. They promised to correct tera for me
and they didn't. I've been Framed."
"So Perot, What do you think happened next?"
Perot inspected the bookcase. "This is awfully dusty, they would
have had to not dust for quite some time, for it to get this bad."
"Where did all this dust come from?"
"It appears to have come from the ceiling. Wait! that's not dust,
it's asbestos! They were trying to go through the ceiling. Look!
You'd think that the realty would fix a crack in the ceiling when it gets
that big!"
"But why try to go through the ceiling? Wouldn't it make more sense to
break a window or something?"
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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 6)
Jeff : Are you NUTS! If I break a window, I'll never
get my damage deposit back.
Cary : I hear you Jeff. There's nothing worse than dealing
with slumlords; well unless they're trying to kill you
too, that can't be good.
Tom : I can't even open the window. It's like it's
frozen shut. Unnngh lousy, Open Window.
Vaughn : Hi, pleased to meet you, my name's Vaughn.
Cam : Yeah I suppose you use sunview. Join the team, man.
You're on the outside looking in.
Vaughn : Hi, pleased to meet you, my name's Vaughn.
Ed : What's he doing?
Jeff : Ignore him, he gets like that when he's drunk.
Just don't give him cigarettes.
Huw : Well there must be some way in. There's a bug flying
around.
Cam : Ungh! Mosquito! You go squish now!
Vaughn : Hi, Mr. Mosquito, my name's Vaughn. My wife is a lawyer.
If you've been hurt as a result of an accident, It may be
negligence.
Doug : Mosquitoes can't live in winter, they only live a day;
they'd need some place warm to......
Gilbert : Up there, in the ceiling, we can crawl through the ceiling
to safety. Move Russ out of the way, and boost me up.
Cary : Looks pretty risky, have you done this type of thing before?
Gilbert : It is to laugh.
Doug : Well as long as Gilbert is going to do all the dirty work,
why don't we relax, and play a game or something.
Hey, Cary why don't you pick some music?
Cary : How about Pink Floyd's The Wall.
Tom : Oh good. THAT'S nice and cheery.
Cary : All Right then you try. Look! Angry, depressing, angry,
angry, angry, depressing, depressing, angry, depressing,
depressing, angry and depressing, angry, depressing, oh and
Bruce Springsteen.
Tom : Keep looking.
Vaughn : Mr. Springsteen, pleased to meet you, I'm Vaughn Betz.
Huw : So how's Gilbert doing?
Ed : Well, would you say hacking and coughing is a good sign?
Huw : At least we know he's still alive.
Cam : Ungh! Noise! somebody make it stop. If there's one thing
I can't stand, it's all the noise, noise, noise, noise.
Oh wait, never mind it stopped.
Jeff : Well I hope he made it.
Doug : Look everyone, It's snowing.
Jeff : Cam, what are you doing on the ground?
Cam : Snow angels, wheeeeeeee!
Ed : Well, I don't know about Winnipeg. But where I come
from it usually snows outside.
[WHUMP!]
Doug : And where do dead bodies usually fall? Inside or out?
Huw : Great! Gilbert's dead,from inhaling asbestos, and Cam and
Vaughn are plastered.
Tom : What makes you think that Cam's drunk?
Jeff : Well, he is plastered, just with asbestos flakes.
Cam : Wheeeeeeee!
Cary : Hey guys, come listen to this record, it's quite profound.
Vaughn : Hi Mr. Asbestos Angel! Care for a cigar?
Jeff : Vaughn, don't you dare light that up.
Huw : Incoming!
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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 7)
"It appears that someone, had replaced the usual sawdust shavings
with gunpowder. I can't imagine it was a very pretty way to go."
Perot picked up a chocolate from the box of assorted treats.
"I just love the creamy, chewy centres."
"How can you think of food at a time like this?"
"I just hate to see so much waste Beestings. Notice the
man in the chair however, he is remarkable in one detail."
"He has ring around the collar!"
"All right two things. No my friend check his wrists,
he has quite obviously killed himself! He has used the record
needle to slash his wrists."
"Then he must have murdered everyone, and killed himself last of all."
"No, I do not think so. Why use the record needle, when there are many
quicker easier methods?"
"Maybe it was a metaphorical statement on the state of the record
industry today."
"Let us not stretch things more than they already have been.
Why would he kill himself?"
"Well it is a pretty depressing record collection. It was
probably something he was listening to."
"Eh, bien. What was he listening to?"
Perot replaced the needle and the two men listened with fascination
at the sounds that emanated from the recording.
"Aha!", exclaimed Perot. "A subliminal message aimed at causing the young
man to commit suicide. Luckily we are not as gullible, eh, Beestings?"
Perot watched in horror as his companion reached forward, towards
the stereo, his hands about to perfom an act that Perot feared he was not
capable of. Quickly, Achille reached out and slapped Beestings hand,
awakening him from his trance.
"Ow! Hey, I wasn't going to take the Strawberry one."
"Idiot, I saw you reach for the Cherry Centre. I like those best of
all. And there was only one left too!"
"Perot, what is that you are leaning on?, It appears to be eight tiny
black figurines. It must be a clue of some sort"
"Why do you think there are eight of them my friend?"
"I bet that when someone died another figurine disappeared, until
there was only one left. But since the killer stopped at eight figurines,
he must not have been able to remove the last ones after he was killed."
"Idiot, how could he keep killing people after he himself was killed?
Those eight pieces are the black pawns from the chessboard.
Missing Figurines Indeed! What a stupid plot device, I never want to hear
of it again."
"None the less, it is quite a mess in here. I wonder why they stayed
here so long."
"It appears that they headed down the hall, towards the bedrooms.
Notice where the next man is slumped he seems to be reaching for
something."
"The Game Clue! Say that's a dandy game for six people Perot!
You see one guy is the killer........."
"I know how to play clue, mon ami. This man has been poisoned.
Here check his coat pocket. Hmmm some pince-nez glasses, and a bottle
of Veronal, how strange."
"Really, I thought he would drink Molson's Beer, or 50. You know
when you ask for a 50, you always get a cold bottle. I wonder why he
drank Veronal."
"Veronal is poison mon ami."
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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 8)
Tom : Well this is one hell of a Friday the Thirteenth.
Cam : Say do you get Pay-Per-View? I think there's
a Wrestling show on.
Huw : I was going to suggest watching "ALIVE", but I'm not so sure now.
Cam : Hey, some people just don't like meatloaf.
Jeff : I wonder if Ed has picked out a game yet.
Cam : Say can we go play down the hall in the bedroom? I didn't
want to say anything earlier, but it's starting to smell in here.
Huw : Ed doesn't seem to be moving.
Doug : Yeah well Club beer will do that to you. I once went to
a party where all they had was Club, and I don't think I used
poly-syllabic words for about a week.
Huw : No, I mean, I think he's dead. Let's take a look.
Doug : Geez! He was drinking Blue. He must have had a death-wish.
Tom : I think he's been poisoned. I mean besides the fact that it was
Blue, I think someone added cyanide or something to his drink.
Doug : Cyanide would give off a burnt almond smell.
Huw : I don't smell any almonds.
Jeff : Well gee I sure do, what about you Cam?
Cam : Mmmmggllfflmmfpp.
Doug : No wonder you smell almonds, he just smorged a whole box
full of chocolate almonds.
Huw : Hey those cost 3 bucks a box!
Cam : Yeah, well then you got ripped off.
Doug : O.k. well let's all sit in a circle so we can keep our
eyes on each other.
Tom : I suppose you know a game we can play like this.
Doug : As a matter of fact yes, but it works better with a larger
group.
Jeff : Well we have lots of people, they just don't seem to be
in the game playing mood.
Doug : O.k. I'm going to hand you this. This is a pineapple.
Tom : This is rather heavy, for a pineapple.
Cam : It doesn't taste like a pineapple.
Jeff : Steve and I used to see these on sale at the Army/Navy
Surplus store. Of course they were lighter and didn't
have the pin that Cam is chewing on.
Huw : Um, speaking as the only Navy guy in the room,
Cam : Don't give me that, Tom and I were in Katimavik, and let me
tell you, we went through HELL!
Huw : I was just going to point out that.....
Doug : Oh my god! That's a real one. I'll save you!!!!!!!
TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT HHHH HHHH OOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOO MMMMMMMM MMMMMMM TTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT HHHH HHHH OOO OOO OOO OOO MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
TTT HHHH HHHH OOO OOO OOO OOO MMM MMMM MMM
TTT HHHH HHHH OOO OOO OOO OOO MMM MMMM MMM
TTT HHHHHHHHHHHHHH OOO OOO OOO OOO MMM MMMM MMM
TTT HHHHHHHHHHHHHH OOO OOO OOO OOO MMM MMMM MMM
TTT HHHH HHHH OOO OOO OOO OOO MMM MMMM MMM
TTT HHHH HHHH OOO OOO OOO OOO MMM MMMM MMM
TTT HHHH HHHH OOO OOO OOO OOO MMM MMMM MMM
TTT HHHH HHHH OOOOOOOOOOO OOOOOOOOOOO MMM MMMM MMM
Huw : Well that was certainly nice of Doug.
Tom : What, bringing a live grenade and practically blowing us all up?
Jeff : There goes my damage deposit. I'll get the mop.
Cam : Man! That was Neat. Does he have another one?
Huw : So, is that it? Was it Doug trying to kill us?
Tom : No, he wouldn't fall on his own grenade.
I think it's Jeff.
Cam : Hey! I just thought of something. When is Sweeps week?
Huw : He's been in that spare room quite some time.
Tom : Do you want to go look for him?
Cam : If I go, can we play Pictionary next?
Huw : Or Operation.
Cam : Um, I don't think it was Jeff.
Tom : Who do you think it was?
Cam : Probably somebody, who didn't have a knife stuck in the
middle of the back of his head.
Huw : Geez! Do you know what this means?
Tom : Yeah, no more bitching about his damage deposit.
Cam : Look, he was writing something.
Tom : It must be the killer's name!
Huw : Um, I don't think so.
Cam : Let me see, Let me see, Oh my God.
Tom : What? What did he write?
Huw : Groucho.
Cam : Help! We're being stalked by Groucho Marx.
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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 9)
"So you see Beestings, that he came here to write something. After
he had turned his back to the door, anyone could have stabbed him."
"I just noticed something Perot."
"What is it mon ami?"
"That's a pretty funny shirt he has on. I like the one about
being the Expert Witness on Matlock."
"Yes, yes, I am sure that is amusing."
"So there are three of them left, one must be the murderer."
"But who? At this point of time I don't think they would be out of
one another's sight for very long. If one person left, the other two would
alibi each other. Then case solved. Let me ask you Beestings, if you
were in their position, what would be the most logical thing to do?"
"I'd play Scrabble! With the one man bleeding all over the dictionary,
just about any word goes."
"All right now suppose you were me."
"I suppose you would check the apartment for another person."
"Bien Sur"
"No thanks. Beans give me gas."
"Come along then, we too shall check the apartment!"
Perot and Beestings carefully looked around the spare bedroom.
At last Perot looked towards the closet. His eyes dimmed.
"Such a waste", he said, mostly to himself, though Beesting had overheard.
"It really is quite horrible, isn't it?", he comforted his friend.
"Yes, the poor fern, I mean, how tough is it to remember to water
it every second day."
"Maybe there is a watering can in the closet."
With that Beestings opened the closet, and the two men quickly jumped
back in horror, as the crucified body flung out towards them mockingly
from the clothes closet rod where it was fastened. The body's long hair
waved towards them, then stilled.
"Oh man", Beestings exclaimed, "This one smells real bad."
"No wonder, look he must have four or five pairs of underwear
on. It's like he put on a fresh pair overtop of the others every
day for a week."
Above the body in blood red letters, "INSE"
"What does it mean Perot? What does it mean?"
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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 10)
Tom : INSE, is that a message?
Huw : No, it's Latin, I think. Latin for insole. It literally
means "Here hangs the King of the Shoes".
Tom : So you wrote it.
Huw : No, I didn't write it, I just translated it.
Tom : Well if the killer wanted to say "King of the Shoes",
why didn't he just write "King of the Shoes"?
Huw : He probably didn't have time to write it, IMHO
it is easier to say INSE than write KING of the Shoes.
Tom : Too damned lazy, if you ask me. And what's with the
IMHO?
Huw : In my humble opinion.
Tom : Then just say "in my humble opinion", don't spell it out.
Huw : Aw F U!
Tom : Yeah, well A L F P to you too. I'm outa here.
Huw : Out of where? The spare bedroom?
Come on Tom, I'm sorry.
Tom?
Oh Great, why is it I always end up having to clean up at
the end of the party? Sigh, I'll just take this bowl and fill it
with soap in the bathroom.
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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 11)
"How can you laugh at this man's misfortune Beestings? I
suppose you would think it funny if Perot were to hit you
between the legs with a bat?"
" I'm sorry, of course not. But it's just SO funny when
it happens to somebody else."
"And that leaves one body, there in the bathroom."
"So he was the killer?"
"No, not at all, He probably thought he was, being the last one left
alive. And for whatever reason he decided he would clean up. But as he
was filling that metal bowl there on the floor, someone shot it out of
his hands."
"Arabs!"
"REALLY! Why would Arabs shoot a bowl out of his hands Beestings?"
"Maybe they thought he was French."
"No my friend, it was the killer. He had one last job to do.
and his first shot was obviously a warning, which had dramatic effects
on the last man."
"I see what you mean, good thing he was already in the bathroom."
"And the second shot my friend was fatal."
"So who was it then? Who was the Killer?"
"Come with me downstairs and I shall tell you. I will say this
though, it is the last person you will suspect."
"That would be you Perot."
"Come, come! The day I am the murderer, it is Curtain for Perot."
"Thanks alot! Rosebud was his sled!"
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Sigfile Follies rings in the New Year by inviting you to join
Thirteen for Dinner
(Segment 12)
It took some time for all the suspects to be gathered.
"Is the killer in this room?"Beestings asked Perot.
"Yes, and do you have any guesses as to who he or she is?"
"I couldn't help but notice that rough looking gent with the oriental woman."
"Don't get your britches in a knot, limey.", the thin man said,
"I'm just making sure this gab-fest doesn't go past Friday. My story
starts next Monday, and it's already been pushed back since last month.
So Miss Remon and I are just going to wait this out if you don't mind."
Perot assured him he did not and then started his explanation.
"On the floor above is a room containig 13 dead bodies. The most
important question is, who stood to gain by their deaths?"
"The Crapo funeral home?", Beestings noted.
"No, no. Not necessarily. What was the effect or removing all of
the men upstairs?"
"His damage deposit! I bet it was the Realty company."
"Eh bien, the realtors. Definitely they are slimy enough, but they are
equally inept, isn't that so Mr.Gilooly?"
"We didn't kill anyone", the landlord said.
"No, I agree. The owner of the apartment has only been there for 4 years
and for the realty to actually do any work, it takes at least five years."
"Then who has done it Perot?"
"Think my friend, use your little grey cells. Who has complained
about the lack of a security system. Enough to get it installed
coincidentally on the very day in question. Who else has complained to
the realty about a crack in the ceiling that is big enough for a person
to crawl through? Ask yourself who could have known so many things,
that a man could be strangled with his eyebrows, that no building
security existed, who knew the effects of club beer, who knew that
one of the men would get so drunk as to smoke a cigar?"
With that Perot steeled his gaze on the woman who sat calmly in the
straight backed chair. "Who planned the party, like she always does. Who
cooked the fatal dinner and left, leaving a helpless victim who could not
phone for assistance.
The woman stared right back at Perot.
"What the HELL do you people have against my meatloaf?"
"Yes, Perot, the meatloaf was not poisoned. You yourself ate some."
"You are correct mon ami. The widow is innocent. According to MTS,
the phone was out of order before the wires were cut. Apparently the
tenant was a little too vociferous in complaining about the poor telephone
service. Never mess with the phone company, my friend. They are
omnipotent."
"So who did it already?", the thin man barked.
"Yes, who?", Perot continued ignoring him. "Answer my question
Beestings, who knew about all the things in the apartment?"
"Well, everyone did."
"OH NO!, not this ending again!" the thin man hung his head.
"Why do you say everyone knew, Beestings?"
"Because, he was always complaining about it."
"Where was he doing this complaining?"
"On the internet."
"Aha! Now who has he maligned on the internet?"
"Who hasn't he maligned?"
"Very well then, who has suffered the most?"
"His readers!"
"What ONE person has suffered the most?"
"The old man in that Old Man and the Sea parody. He's constantly
getting crummy lines."
"What ONE REAL person has suffered the most?"
A gasp went up from the room.
"GASP"
"Then the killer is.............
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Click here for the nail-biting conclusion....
Jeffrey S. Carrie / University of Manitoba / carrie@ee.umanitoba.caReturn to the Sigfile Follies
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