“Well?” asked Fat Daddy the next morning at the League of Extraordinarily Fat Gentlemen’s headquarters in Obese City.
Jack Sh*t, still decked out in his Sherlock Holmes outfit, was examining the conference room table with his magnifying glass.
“Well what, Fatson?” asked Jack. “Do you have a question for Sh*tlock Holmes?”
“Ummmmm, you said you know who tried to do in TOM.”
“That is correct, Fatson. I have used my powers of deduction to deduce the identity of the perpetrator in question.”
“You gonna keep calling me ‘Fatson’ until this whole adventure is over, aren’t you?” sighed Fat Daddy.
“Indubitably,” remarked Sh*tlock. “Now… who wants to destroy TOM forever?”
“Ummmmm,” answered Fat Daddy. “Every woman on earth?”
“Okay,” said Fat Daddy. “So you’ve narrowed our suspects down to every woman on earth…”
“Don’t make it sound so crappy,” said the detective. “I’ve cut the suspects down by roughly 50%.”
Tricia approached them with a handful of phone messages.
“Carlos called and said somebody just blew up his commuter train,” said Tricia. “Luckily, he just talked about riding the train and never actually rode it.”
“Probably just a coincidence,” said Jack.
“Probably,” said Tricia. “Also Tony Pos.. Pasnon… Picklenancy…ummm… Anti-Jared called to say some mysteriously clad dude who was supposed to be spotting him at the gym dropped a 400-lb weights on his neck.”
“Ouch,” said Jack.
“Yeah,” agreed Tricia. “Apparently, it left quite a bruise. And Stephen just tweeted that somebody just tried to run him down while he was training for his 5K.”
“Hmmmmm,” said Fat Daddy.
“And Pink Panda Tony got fired at from somebody with a crossbow…” said Tricia.
“Really?” asked Jack
“No,” replied Tricia. “But somebody did leave a really nasty anonymous comment on his blog, and Irene called to say somebody tried to take Sean’s tape recorder away from him last night.”
“I’m beginning to think that there’s more to this than we first thought,” said Jack.
“No sh*t, Sherlock,” said Fat Daddy. “I mean, Sh*tlock.”
“Apparently,” said Jack. “Someone is out to do away with the League of Extraordinarily Fat Gentlemen.”
Suddenly, the lights all went off. A little girl’s blood-curdling scream filled the room.
“I’m sorry,” said Jack. “That was me.”
“This is another cliffhanger ending, right?” asked Fat Daddy.
“This job sucks,” said Tricia.
TO BE CONCLUDED…