Backpacking and Bipolar II. Taking Manic Depression on tour.
Murder has been done, dear reader! This morning, as I sat down with a drink, I felt a peculiar smushing at my thigh. I had sat on a crime scene, the scene of a rodenticide!
I disposed of the remains and told a spermsuit wearing flunky to dust for prints. Soon after I realised that not only did I not have a flunky, I didn’t even have a sperm suit with which to pretend to be from the CSI unit. I dusted for prints without the proper uniform (which I suspect was a contributing factor for my poor results). I still did the voices and decided on the name of Hollis for my character, who was a mash-up of Dr.House and Gomez Adams.
It became obvious that this crime wasn’t going to be easily solved, the murderer must have been wearing gloves. The fact that neither of my hosts favour eating mice/rats, backed up by the fact that they’d know the liver to be a nutritious component of aforementioned vermin, leads me to believe that the culprit must be feline in nature and a regular at a local glove shop.
Enter the suspects.
Never has a human been loathed by an animal as I by Nana. Nana hates me. She perches atop Steve’s shoulders, frantically surveying her kingdom like the eye of Sauron on speed, ever ready to leap away from potential transgressors, clawing Steve in the process. It would make sense to postulate Nana’s guilt when it comes to laying a booby trap for me, but to do this she would have had to get past suspect number two for all but the evening hours.
So called because they originally thought they were dealing with a tomcat, until he started behaving strangely. The vet’s diagnosis had been as succinct as it was surprising : “kittens” he’d said. Freddy’s gender confusion probably factored into the post natal homicidal mania directed against her kittens. She doesn’t get on with other cats, especially her own brood.
A master of stealth and cunning. I can’t honestly say much about Sookie. She doesn’t conform to the usual rule of gingers sticking together and so I’ve not seen her more than ten times since my arrival. “Just because you don’t see them, dont mean they ain’t there, man!” is right though. Every time I open a cupboard or wardrobe there is a scratching, shuffling expedient ginger blur that evaporates from view almost instantly. Sookie is organising some kind of coup. I believe she sees us as an occupying force and is working her way around the tunnels mounting a resistance.
The body was found in Poppy’s favourite daytime spot.
Poppy usually sleeps on my bed, but not the night in question.
Lena hates everything other than Steve and Eileen.
Sookie’s inception plans may benefit from turning poppy and I against each other
All three cats were unusually absent in the morning.
Given my lack of CSI uniform and flunkies, I’m leaving this an X-File. What is clear though is that someone really doesn’t like me sitting on their couch and have given me a Mafia style warning. Horse’s heads were expensive, so rodent’s liver will do. Message received loud and clear – I’ll sit on the floor and be grateful of it until Scully comes to solve the case.