Will you write a short mystery story based on a recent Fluther question?

I was sitting in my office reading last weeks paper. My feet rested on the desk next to a plaque which read “private eye.” That’s me. As I perused the paper, I heard a pair of stelettos clack accross the hall and enter my office with a creak of the door. The broad set something on my desk. Peering up over the top of my paper, I saw that it was a lightbulb. I also saw that she was one classy dame.

She told me her story. Her name was Miss pfeffer. After a run in with some landscapers and an advertising scheme, Someone had left the bulb on her doorstep. Was it a threat? A message? Someone was trying to tell her something, but what? She didn’t want to get the cops involved.
“first of all,” I said “what was the name of the landscaping company?”...

As the captain of the precinct I was looking through the psych evals of the police department. There was one that really caught my attention. And not for the good.

Guys like Rebbel like to post progressive questions, like “Are you the jelly below me part 54” or “What wonderful thing happened today Part 42”. Generally, I don’t care for such questions, but the Caption Competition that Rebbel had been posting turned out to be a lot of fun, and it had been a long time since he posted a new caption question. Too long.
Maybe the Mods had put the squeeze on him for a more substantive question. Maybe he couldn’t find a suitable photo. Maybe he was tired of it.
Or maybe someone put a hurt on him. I had to know.

He said he gave it to her. She said he didn’t. He put it in her pocketbook. Who’s right?

He never had to earn a dollar of his own, he just sat around soaking up the efforts of those around him and his square pants. He complained about the prices of access to technology with no understanding of how technology is put in place or maintained.
We nudged his understanding module.

Has the person who wished to be consumed by a large snake found his/her snakey partner in consumption?
Is there now a large Boa Constrictor or Python digesting this person somewhere?
Did they give up on their quest for a volunteer and fly to some remote jungle to offer themselves up to a snake in the grass?

The Hawaiian police in their colourful uniforms stood around the body on the beach. The sun had just risen behind the cliffs. Inches from the cold outstretched hand lay a glass containing a few red drops and a little further a dark bottle which had spilled its contents into the sand. The question was; had he fallen or was he pushed?

We need to add a link to the question.

With the coppers fast on his heels, he sped away on a bicycle. Only problem was, it was his first time on a bike and he was making a miserable go of it.

Auggie wasn’t the kind of dame you sneak up on. Bigger lugs than me had made that mistake and ended up on a liquid diet. I took the stool closest to the door and ordered a double Mako with a twist. When she heard that, her shot glass stalled just shy of those famous lips. Without so much as a glance in my direction, she said, “It’s been a long time, Thorny. Is this business, or pleasure?”

I kept my eyes on her whip hand, knowing only too well that by the time I saw it move it would all be over anyway. “I thought you might be able to give me some leads on my latest case, Auggie. Seems nobody’s seen the Founders for awhile. There’s talk.”

“There’s always talk, Thorny. Since when do you listen to talk?”

Everybody else in the joint suddenly seemed to have urgent business elsewhere. I understood the sentiment, but I couldn’t afford to let her sniff my fear. I played my ace in the hole.

“Why’d you do it Auggie? You must have known that whole ‘Twitter’ alibi wouldn’t hold up. “

That was about when I heard the growl of Auggie’s bull mastiff, Neptune, coming from somewhere between me and the door.

“Come on, Thorny. Everyone wants to climb to the top, right?”

“No!” She cried. “No! No! No!” over and over, getting more and more faint until her “No’s” disappeared into thin air. Then someone accosted her, edited her, and the sound of “No” started getting louder and louder until people screamed “STFU!”.

Fish. Colorful fish. That’s what she was looking for- but where to find them? And which ones would be best? She just didn’t know…

Last weekend marks the one year anniversary for some very chaotic events…events which left a trail of confusion and panic in their wake. Events that changed people forever. I can still hear the bombs, the squirrels and the liquor. I smell the darkness and the sunlight which shone through…even the flowers became psychotic.
So many questions, so little respect for the rules, so much…chaos. The streets were flooded with chaos…It was such a disaster, yet not an ordinary disaster.
It was planned. People were a part of it…’‘takes a violent sip of Brandy’’ They made it happen. It was an orchestra from Hell, it was the cacophony of the darkest nights! Not even Zombie Jesus could have saved us…

The worse part…is we all enjoyed it. The chaos was accepted. It was embraced. It was nourished.

’‘violently flings glass of Brandy into the fireplace’’

And…damn it all! I was a part of it! I helped to make it happen!!!

The…Yarnpocalypse.

Even my head hurt when I woke up.

I still can’t believe I missed Yarnpocalypse!