It was a balmy English morning, and Detective Poirot breathed in the cold, fresh air as he waited to cross the street. As he did so, passers-by paused and looked at him curiously, before continuing along their daily business. Perhaps it was his slightly comical moustache, perhaps his balding head or short, round figure. But this did not disturb Poirot, he was too busy enjoying the wonders of English life. He crossed the street and reached his destination, the post office, still drawing stares. He entered and approached the counter, withdrawing his key from his pocket with a flourish. “Bonjour mademoiselle. Are you holding any mail for me?” The lady behind the counter jumped slightly in surprise. Quickly recomposing herself, she took Poirot’s key and left to find his box. She returned shortly, with a single envelope in her hand. “This is all”, she said, giving it to Poirot. He took it and turned it over in his fingers. His name and Post Office box were typed clearly on the front preceded by the words, ‘Unknown Sender’. He deftly opened the envelope and began to read the letter inside. Its contents were simply as follows:
Dear Detective Poirot, You are hereby cordially invited to my secluded mansion in the middle of the countryside. Directions on other side. Signed,
“Hmm, very mysterious”, thought Poirot. “Particularly the blank space where he failed to sign anything.” He turned to leave, but as he did so the lady behind the counter called to him “Excuse me, sir. Can I just ask you one thing?” “Of course.” “Well, it’s just... why are you NAKED?”
The detectives sat around the dining table and eyed each other suspiciously. Clockwise around the table they were: Sherlock Turtle. Naked Poirot. The Crack Dealer. Detectives Chill & Crazy. The Wizard. Detective Ant; not an actual ant, but rather a man who constantly held a pair of tongs in his mouth in order to make himself look like an ant. And finally Chewbacca, who wasn’t actually a detective but a wookie. They sat in the dining room of the mansion in the middle of the countryside, awaiting the appearance of the mysterious owner who had invited them all there. None of them had yet met the mysterious man, all having received the strange invitation to come to his house and wait in the dining room. Finally, the double doors opened, and a man entered the room. “Greetings, Detectives. Now you’re probably wondering why I’ve invited you all here. Well, the reason is...” All of a sudden, the lights flickered out, and the room was thrown into complete darkness. A gurgling scream pierced through the ensuing chaos, and when light was finally returned a horrible sight met everyone’s eyes. The mysterious owner was lying on the floor, dead.
“I’ll solve this mystery”, thought Naked Poirot. He knelt down beside the body and examined it. There were several turtle-shaped bite marks on the throat of the body. He suspected that the death might have been a murder. “It must have been one of the people in this very room!” Detectives Chill & Crazy inspected the floor beside the body. “Hey man, check this out, man.” said Detective Chill, “there are little turtle-shaped footprints going towards and away from the body”. “Don’t get close to me man! I’ll stab you!” replied Detective Crazy to himself, as they were in fact the same person. The Wizard decided that he would get to the bottom of this mystery. He sat back and conjured a mighty ball of flame from mid-air, which then vanished. Having exhausted his considerable powers, he had failed to do anything useful. Detective Ant carefully sifted through the body’s pockets for an identifying information or money, but found nothing. They each realized that this mystery wasn’t going to be easy to solve, and they were still no closer to discovering the murderer. The Crack Dealer, apart from all this, just did a heap of crack, enough to make him for all purposes useless for the next few chapters.
Naked Poirot decided to call for help, so he picked up the phone and called God. He thought that a divine being would certainly be capable of solving the mystery. Within seconds the doors to the mansion burst open, and in a fury of divinity and flame, Detective God on Fire burst into the room. Unfortunately, whether or not he had any knowledge of the mystery remained unknown, as any attempts to question him were responded to by, “Aaaaah! Help me, I’m on fire, I’m on fire! Why won’t anybody help me?” It was at this point that I, Detective Omniscient Narrator, entered the mansion. But despite my considerable detection powers I too was unable to deduct the identity of the murderer.
Detective Actual Ant, an actual ant rather than a man with tongs in his mouth, entered the scene of the crime and was promptly squished. Detective ‘Honey I shrunk the kids’ DVD case, while empty, decided to solve the mystery, soon followed by Detective Spoon, Detective Wall and Detective Mansion. Detective Red Herring came under considerable suspicion during his detection. Detective Corpse, while one of the first on the scene, had considerable difficulty solving itself, largely due to an inability to see, think, or generally not be dead. Detective Sea-Mine too was hindered by being many miles away from the crime, and trying to solve it while having no knowledge of any clues. Further deduction was made by Detective Penis, making further ground than Naked Poirot himself, whom Detective Penis was attached to, as was done by Detective Sneeze in its brief period of existence.
Detective Chapter 6
This chapter thought it would solve the mystery. Detective ‘the’, who appeared last chapter, also has since decided to find the culprit. It was more or less at this point that Naked Poirot began to Detective Speak, while the tap was still Detective Running. Detective ‘the’ began to doubt the abilities of the other detectives. Detective Helium, the first element to ever receive a degree from Detection school (and not just a portion of the element, but the element as a whole), searched for further clues. Finally, Detective Novel, this story, attempted to solve itself, but to no avail.
The Crack Dealer, having finally recovered from his considerable intake of crack, returned to consciousness. He stood up, and assembled all the involved parties back together into the dining room. “While I was tripping, the identity of the murderer was revealed to me. My suspicions were first drawn by the turtle-shaped bite and footprints, as well as the fact that only one of us is actually a turtle.” “And so, I reveal to you all, that the murderer was...” The entire room leant forward with baited breath. “Sherlock Turtle!” The room gasped as the Crack Dealer pointed firmly towards Sherlock Turtle. “Damn you, Crack Dealer!” cursed Sherlock Turtle, having just then gained the ability to speak, as he was carted away by the police. “Case well solved!” said the Crack Dealer, and returned satisfied to his previous position and did some more crack.