A study in fuschia part 2

In the parlour of the stately mansion, El balcone, we all stood in silence, not one of us breaking the silence that had befallen the group of myself, my companion Sam L. Jones, our hostess Ms Craddock and her butler Jack moments ago. The doors into the parlour had burst open and in had walked a man declaring himself 'detective' Homer he looked like, for want of a better word, a moron. There he was in trousers a shade of yellow i have yet to encounter in any dye shop in the empire, his shirt was pink, untucked and stained with what seemed at first glance to be mustard but upon closer inspection was something more foul. He wore a deerstalker hat at the most offensively jaunty angle and upon his face he had a bemused expression that made me think his IQ was in the range of the plant that he proceeded to knock over as he entered the room.

"What you guys talking about?" said Homer, my companion was for the first time since we had met lost for words, it was most unlike Jones who had in the past talked his way around the guards at the palace and when confronted by the Queen had managed to get us both invited for tea the next day. "We were just about to discuss the events of the case Detective Homer, you and Mr Jones here have both answered my call for help." Said Ms Craddock.
"Yes...Yes, do go on my dear lady," Jones said regaining some of his cool.
"Well the events happened in this order, it was had been my 20th birthday in the summer, yet at the time i had been struck with terrible fever and could not properly celebrate, i was terribly disappointed, so with my papa travelling back to India to rejoin his regiment, he said i could have a late party, to which i invited a small gathering of friends. Myself and Jack were here and i invited Miss Scarlett Dagger a childhood friend, my servant from our previous home Mrs Anne White, a friend of my papa's young Captain James Mustard, the local priest Ian Green and the late Wilbur Smith IV, whom lived nearby and was fond of calling at all hours." Jones began noting down all the possible suspects, while Homer proceeded to eat the scones the butler had laid out. "They all arrived three nights ago and i proceeded with the introduction but it turned out only Captain Mustard and Mrs White were not at least acquaintances with the rest of the group, that night we went to bed early and rose late the next. We played croquet on the lawn where i believe Mr Smith won a small amount from the captain and reverend, we then had a fine tea and were entertained by music and then proceeded to the drawing room where we played a few hands of whist, everything was going smoothly until Scarlett jumped up accusing Wilbur of cheating, tempers rose as he defended his position but was sadly found with cards up his sleeve. We were mighty angry but he apologised, repayed our money, and even presented us all with a bottle of port which he said he was saving we were all, i thought, happy with the apology. I decided to turn in for the night after the incident at about 10 o'clock, everyone else did the same, it was about an hour later when Scarlett came to my door and entered my room to apologise for her behaviour earlier shouting in my house, i told her no need to worry and all was forgiven so we stayed up chatting amongst our selves, it was then we herd a clatter and a massive thud, running to the hall we found Wilbur lying at the bottom of the stairs. I gave an almighty scream which woke the whole house, we all ran to him and Jack confirmed he was dead, it was clear to everyone that foul play had occurred as his neck was terribly abused and bloodied like he had been strangled before his fall down the stairs, so we called the local police who then said they were at a loss and would put it down to accidental causes which i would not have, which lead to me calling you two fine detectives in, pray tell me what or who do you think could have caused this terrible tragedy to unfold?"
"It is a tricky problem there," said Jones "I will need to look at the scene and talk to those at the party, before firm conclusions can be drawn." the lady's face fell slightly, "Don't worry" I interluded "Jones here will get to the solution, no case has yet been too great for him. There will be a solution." She smiled at me, "I hope for my sake you are right doctor, come Detective Homer what is your take on the events i have described."

We looked over at the cake stand, where he was still eating the cakes "Scarlett...nom nom..... used a Dagger......munch munch..... in the..er erm what ya' 'ma called.......hall!"

To be continued.

The idiot to end all idiots

After being resurrected somehow, Homer the racist swan was back and this time he had a new idea that he thought would set the world on fire, "what if i get rid of the one of the most direct ways of contacting me! Why thats a brilliant notion," and with two clicks of a literal mouse the task was done.

"Now to sit back and see what i have acomplished," said our feline friend.

Minutes became hours, hours became days, days became minutes again (time is a funny thing) and still Homer the bee didnt hear from any of his supposed friends who had previously murdered him. "Why? oh Why? have they not joined my revolution he thought as he logged into his email account.

In his near empty inbox Homer the hound found one new email it was from his friend Sam, "This will cheer me up no end," remarked the kangeroo version of Homer. The Email read, Dear Homer I cant be bothered to txt you my phone is at least 2 metric feet away, and without facebook i can no longer contact you, this is an email to confirm the end of our friendship,
fond farewells,
Sam the bunny.
p.s everyone else feels the same but can't be bothered with the process of email.

It was the sadness from this email that prompted Homer the mexican to them overdose on potatoes and take his own life.

The End???