ciwey
in
the_flyboys
Colors of the Rainbow
FLYBOYS FLAMETASTIC FANFICTION ENTRY: HUMOR
Title: Colors of the Rainbow
Author: ciwey
Rating: G
Summary: Six suspects. Six weapons. One murderer.
“Despite the many wounds done to the victim’s body, we found no bullet holes or any evidence of blunt force trauma, thus ruling out the possibility of the revolver as the murder weapon. This puts you in the clear, Miss Scarlet.”
Syesha let out an audible sigh, wiping the beads of sweat off her brow as she stepped back away from the semi-circle formed by the suspects. Her crimson dress swirled provocatively around her with unnatural inertia as she moved. Gripping the revolver in her hand, she cast a suspicious glare at the others present in the room, preparing to listen to the rest of the speech.
“There were also minor damages done to the victim’s neck, but it’s clear that the victim did not die from asphyxiation. This also rules out the rope as the weapon, as well as the person carrying it - Reverend Green.”
Giggling with nervous apprehension, Archie took one step back, instinctively smoothing the front of his ugly olive suit. “Gosh,” he said, voice trembling with relief as he let the bundle of rope fall to the floor, “I can’t believe you suspected young, innocent me. Gosh, you big meanies. Gosh.” His big doe eyes followed the four others as they fidgeted around.
“The lack of bruises or, as I have mentioned, evidence of blunt force trauma also proves that the wrench was not used as the murder weapon. Professor Plum, this eliminates you as a suspect.”
Jason gave a loud chuckle from behind his round-rimmed glasses, still holding on to the mechanical wrench. With his other hand, he pulled the large, purple top hat off his head, tipping it politely at the speaker’s direction as if thanking him for restating the obvious evidence. Crossing his arms, he joined Syesha and Archie, eyes still trained on the three remaining suspects.
“In fact, the absence of such evidence also proves that neither the lead pipe nor the candlestick were used to murder the victim - ruling out Mrs. White,” Brooke smiled prettily and took a step back, deftly stashing the length of pipe into one of the pockets on her ashen-colored maid’s uniform, “and Mrs. Peacock.” Ramiele pulled away the dark veil draping over her face and glided backwards with elegant grace.
Leaving only one suspect in the middle of the group.
“That’s it,” Michael announced, smiling smugly in his long overcoat. Holding up his magnifying glass in an accusatory position, he pointed at the remaining person. “I have solved Mr. Black’s murder! The only suspect that leaves is you!”
“It was you, Colonel Mustard, with the dagger, in the ballroom!”
“No!” David cried, his eyes wide with surprise behind his monocle. Backing away with purposeful fear, he stuttered out, “It wasn’t me, it was my evil brother Andrew! He stole my dagger and framed me! I didn’t kill Chikezie!”
“A likely story,” Michael smirked and said. “Take him away, boys.” Two policemen in traditional attire quickly entered the room and grabbed hold of the colonel’s arms, twisting them behind his back. They handily dragged him away from the room even as he continued to protest loudly, “Come on, this is so unfair! I hate Colonel Mustard, I always lose as him. Can we please play Scrabble now?
To which the occupants of the room replied collectively, “No!”
Title: Colors of the Rainbow
Author: ciwey
Rating: G
Summary: Six suspects. Six weapons. One murderer.
“Despite the many wounds done to the victim’s body, we found no bullet holes or any evidence of blunt force trauma, thus ruling out the possibility of the revolver as the murder weapon. This puts you in the clear, Miss Scarlet.”
Syesha let out an audible sigh, wiping the beads of sweat off her brow as she stepped back away from the semi-circle formed by the suspects. Her crimson dress swirled provocatively around her with unnatural inertia as she moved. Gripping the revolver in her hand, she cast a suspicious glare at the others present in the room, preparing to listen to the rest of the speech.
“There were also minor damages done to the victim’s neck, but it’s clear that the victim did not die from asphyxiation. This also rules out the rope as the weapon, as well as the person carrying it - Reverend Green.”
Giggling with nervous apprehension, Archie took one step back, instinctively smoothing the front of his ugly olive suit. “Gosh,” he said, voice trembling with relief as he let the bundle of rope fall to the floor, “I can’t believe you suspected young, innocent me. Gosh, you big meanies. Gosh.” His big doe eyes followed the four others as they fidgeted around.
“The lack of bruises or, as I have mentioned, evidence of blunt force trauma also proves that the wrench was not used as the murder weapon. Professor Plum, this eliminates you as a suspect.”
Jason gave a loud chuckle from behind his round-rimmed glasses, still holding on to the mechanical wrench. With his other hand, he pulled the large, purple top hat off his head, tipping it politely at the speaker’s direction as if thanking him for restating the obvious evidence. Crossing his arms, he joined Syesha and Archie, eyes still trained on the three remaining suspects.
“In fact, the absence of such evidence also proves that neither the lead pipe nor the candlestick were used to murder the victim - ruling out Mrs. White,” Brooke smiled prettily and took a step back, deftly stashing the length of pipe into one of the pockets on her ashen-colored maid’s uniform, “and Mrs. Peacock.” Ramiele pulled away the dark veil draping over her face and glided backwards with elegant grace.
Leaving only one suspect in the middle of the group.
“That’s it,” Michael announced, smiling smugly in his long overcoat. Holding up his magnifying glass in an accusatory position, he pointed at the remaining person. “I have solved Mr. Black’s murder! The only suspect that leaves is you!”
“It was you, Colonel Mustard, with the dagger, in the ballroom!”
“No!” David cried, his eyes wide with surprise behind his monocle. Backing away with purposeful fear, he stuttered out, “It wasn’t me, it was my evil brother Andrew! He stole my dagger and framed me! I didn’t kill Chikezie!”
“A likely story,” Michael smirked and said. “Take him away, boys.” Two policemen in traditional attire quickly entered the room and grabbed hold of the colonel’s arms, twisting them behind his back. They handily dragged him away from the room even as he continued to protest loudly, “Come on, this is so unfair! I hate Colonel Mustard, I always lose as him. Can we please play Scrabble now?
To which the occupants of the room replied collectively, “No!”