Published Aug 17th, 2013, 8/17/13 6:04 pm
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The dinerso breathing was shallow, their movements halted. The grandfather clock chimed, welcoming the arrival of the midnight hour. An hour that would seem to most far enough into the night to call them to sleep, but to some, it was an hour in which the sinfully playful awoke.
Sinful were what these diners could accurately be described as; however, it appeared that one fell guilty to one crime above all others: Murder.
Eyes scanned and met each other as accusations flew across the room. Ms. Scarlet, the mistress of a brothel, accused Mrs. White, the widow whose late husband died of suspicious decapitation. Colonel Mustard, a patron of the sultry womano s establishment, called for order above the screams of Professor Plum, the lusty doctor who had taken advantage of his previous patient. A scream bored itself into the tense air from the throat of Mrs. Peacock as she fell towards one of the two couches after hearing the hypothesis that perhaps the brandy that now slipped between her lips had been poisoned. Mr. Green tossed out the possibility that the now faint Mrs. Peacock had done the deed to maintain silence over the fact that she had bought votes for her husband, though he insisted upon his own innocence. After all, is homosexuality truly worth killing over? All the while, the butler stood, watching, thinking, plotting.
They all had two things in common, above all others. They were being blackmailed by the now dead Mr. Body, and they all received a weapon prior to when the lights were shut off by the murdered host.
The night would go on, further and further into the morning, as they all tried to pin guilt upon the other. And eventually, they would find their culprit.
But not in this twisted reality.
All during the dramatics of the party that had turned quite sour, the true murderer would stand and watch the madness it had created. Yes, it. While many suspect the widow, the harlot, or the butler, none suspect the guiltiest of them all: the Lamp.
In this twisted o Clueo reality, being inanimate is nothing more than a small obstacle to the things that are able to overcome it. A fact little known, but discovered too late by its victim.
Okay! So! This is my contest entry, which I spoofed off of the movie Clue (1985)! In the movie, they worry most about who did it, never paying much consideration to the objects. Maybe, in some other dimension, there are investigators who worry not of the murderer, but of the murder weapon. I mean, think about it, how often do you take your lamp for granted? Wouldn't you feel a bit upset if you were constantly treated that way?
Food for thought.
Sinful were what these diners could accurately be described as; however, it appeared that one fell guilty to one crime above all others: Murder.
Eyes scanned and met each other as accusations flew across the room. Ms. Scarlet, the mistress of a brothel, accused Mrs. White, the widow whose late husband died of suspicious decapitation. Colonel Mustard, a patron of the sultry womano s establishment, called for order above the screams of Professor Plum, the lusty doctor who had taken advantage of his previous patient. A scream bored itself into the tense air from the throat of Mrs. Peacock as she fell towards one of the two couches after hearing the hypothesis that perhaps the brandy that now slipped between her lips had been poisoned. Mr. Green tossed out the possibility that the now faint Mrs. Peacock had done the deed to maintain silence over the fact that she had bought votes for her husband, though he insisted upon his own innocence. After all, is homosexuality truly worth killing over? All the while, the butler stood, watching, thinking, plotting.
They all had two things in common, above all others. They were being blackmailed by the now dead Mr. Body, and they all received a weapon prior to when the lights were shut off by the murdered host.
The night would go on, further and further into the morning, as they all tried to pin guilt upon the other. And eventually, they would find their culprit.
But not in this twisted reality.
All during the dramatics of the party that had turned quite sour, the true murderer would stand and watch the madness it had created. Yes, it. While many suspect the widow, the harlot, or the butler, none suspect the guiltiest of them all: the Lamp.
In this twisted o Clueo reality, being inanimate is nothing more than a small obstacle to the things that are able to overcome it. A fact little known, but discovered too late by its victim.
Okay! So! This is my contest entry, which I spoofed off of the movie Clue (1985)! In the movie, they worry most about who did it, never paying much consideration to the objects. Maybe, in some other dimension, there are investigators who worry not of the murderer, but of the murder weapon. I mean, think about it, how often do you take your lamp for granted? Wouldn't you feel a bit upset if you were constantly treated that way?
Food for thought.
Gender | Other |
Model | Steve |
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