Cal reckoned he had it all just about figured.
Darlene, the victim, had spent some time with the cult back in '07. In November of that year, she split, taking with her something the cultists valued - valued a whole hell of a lot.
That didn't sit well with the Parler Jamais folks, so the sent a couple of guys over here to do her in. As for the recording, well, it was probably just to intimidate other cult members or something.
It ALMOST fit the evidence perfectly, but there were a few details that kept tugging at the seams....
They think they can just buy me off.
They think that a lifetime's supply of biscuits and chew-toys is enough to purchase my silence. But they are wrong. I am the victim here, a victim of horrible negligence and criminal stupidity.
The researchers in the lab that day were operating sensitive equipment while violating the clearly defined safety procedures. My lawyer assures me that if we take my case to court, they'll be ruined. And that's just what's going to happen; I'm going to make them pay for what they did to me.
It boggles my small(er) mind; why would...
The dog told him to kill people. It wasn't like it was the first time either. Mr. Muffins had been telling Jim to kill people since he was but a pup.
At first it was the normal crazy things. Kill the president. Kill Madonna. Kill that guy who sells ice cream cones for 2 bucks down the street.
Really. Where was a 10 year old going to get 2 bucks for ice cream? The lemonade stand only earned him seventy five cents. And a bluegreen ball of yarn from Mrs. Patacki.
He managed to ignore the dog. Puppy voices were...
Hats. I hate wearing hats. They leave that weird mark in your hair and make your forehead sweaty. Ugh, and the way winter hats make your ears itch; unbearable! Baseball hats are okay - looking on guys, but I'm more into helmets. You won't get me to wear either, still, they call it hat hair, and helmet head for a reason. Who ever invented the hat anyway? I get the concept of keeping your head warm, but hoods do that job just fine, and don't make your hair flat or itch your ears, or make your head funny-shaped. I get...
Hats. They don't tell you all there is to hats. Hats are of course a fashionable item, they shield for our eyes, a blanket for our head. But hats don't allow your to show your self. I say "self" to describe that brilliant light and vibration that extends from every pore. The fluorescent and transcendent light that seem to be so pure in this tainted world. We all have one. But hats don't let them flow. Hats cover your Crown. Hats hide you.
You don't wear hats. That is when I knew. Your shines like a thousand suns of every...
She opened the cupboard on the landing and sighed.
What hat should she wear ? There was a choice of four: a bowler hat, a large straw summer hat, a rather fetching Philip Tracy ensemble or a velvet scrunch hat.
Neither were really suitable for her proposed unicycle antics, but "needs must where the devil drives" she muttered under her breath, and grabbed the velvet scrunch hat in her favourite colour, green. Cramming it on her head, she raced down the six flights of stairs to her front door, grabbed the unicycle from its cupboard and marched out defiantly, daring...
I like collecting lots of hats
And placing them on heads of cats
They aren't too fond of wearing hats
They take them off, those little brats
We stared out the attic window of the 3-story blue colonial. It was New Year's Eve; we all survived the hype of the Millenium, and now one year later we were wrapped in each other's arms watching the snow fall. I came upstairs to change my shirt after Pat spilled his champagne on me. I rifled through my suitcase as you ran upstairs after me, worried that I was upset. You said my name and I looked up with wide eyes, so in love with you. Staring at your ice blue eyes, I wondered how I got here, I mean,...
"This wise guy can't use sign language or nothing?" Sandon, Cal's partner, said in disgust. The mime was placing his palms in the air progressively higher, which communicated nothing of any obvious value.
Cal sighed, looking down at the high-tech surveillance equipment lying on the table. Equipment the police department could never have afforded. "So, what's the deal then? You some kind of spook, or are you just a pervert?"
He gestured to the pile of tapes. "Look, we got you, son. You've recorded that lady do it with her john every night for the past month. We got all...
Cat's pupils narrowed to slits as she glared at the falling snowflakes apprehensively. Snow, her long-time adversary, had returned at last. She'd dared to hope that after their last encounter, the freezing menace had been dealt with for good, but she knew better than rest easy.
She cautiously sniffed the air, preparing herself for battle. Snow threatened all she held dear, all that was precious and good. If Cat was unable to defeat it, it would spread over all the earth.
Her claws slid out of their sheaths; they were sharp, but not as sharp as she would like; the...