A very silly story

Wooly_Mammoth-RBC


SILVER FIR, GREEN DETECTIVE

The scream that shot through Silver Fir’s walls into her neighbor’s ears was no matter for song—there was a body in her freezer, and it was quite obvious that it was dead.

Silver’s stomach responded in kind, and she threw up all over the hairy cadaver. This was not a human corpse—it was a very hairy thing with tusks—and it looked as if it had been dead for a long time . . . a very long time.

The sight was slightly fascinating, except, of course, for the small fresher pieces of carrot mixed into the hair. Silver pulled back the black plastic a little farther. But I didn’t eat carrots, thought Silver. Why is it, that no matter what I eat, there are always carrots in the throw-up?? It was a small thing to be concerned with, There were far more important, bigger, better things to think about. Silver had a new mission in life. She had to find the man who had killed this thing of mammoth proportions and put it in her freezer. (It was obviously done by a man. A woman would have had more taste in where she rested her stiffs.) Particularly disgusting was the fact that she had only yesterday cleaned it out completely in anticipation of the delivery of fresh meat . . . Silver was about to become famous for her steaks, and her order of Slick Willie’s best beef was to be hers to practice on at will. Where would she put her beef now?

The doorbell rang. Consternated, Silver looked to her left and to her right. It wasn’t helping. She looked up to the light—at the top of the stairs appeared a man in a white coat. She made a mental note to ask him which detergent he used.

“There you are, Miss. We put your steaks in the freezer like—you musta bin out the back or summat.”

Silver noted the clue in her mind. Perhaps she was onto something. “Thank you, er . . .?”

“Slick Bob, Miss. I’m Slick Willie’s bruvver.”

“Ah yes, Bob. Thank you.”

“No problems, Miss. Jus’ give us a call when you need more like, alright?”

Clue number 2, an English accent. It was a clue, because this all took place in TX, where nary an English accent is to be heard, ever.

It was quite obvious that Silver had to go to Mongolia, the outer limits of. She left a message with Mick, her English boyfriend, who didn’t have an English accent any more. Off to Mongolia. Back soon. As if it were a natural thing to do on a whim. It wasn’t.

PART 2 coming soon . . .

About the author

Copywriter, copy editor, spiritual life/dream/business coach, entrepeneur, strategist, counselor, writer, seeker, thinker, facilitator, mediator, bossypants, housework avoider, busybody, mother, wife, Jesus lover

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  1. A very silly story, part 3 | Inksnatcher
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