Friday, June 27, 2008

A Chefs way of Death

A Chefs way of Death

Today in the news i want to tell you about an experience i had involving a mysterious killing i investigated.
See once, before i actually owned any such newspaper company i lived in a house. Nowadays i find it hard to believe, but it is true. There was a kitchen, a bedroom and even a room just for going to the toilet.
It was attached to some other houses, so i could always clearly hear the conversations. "Darling did you put the milk out today?"
"Who puts the milk 'out'? We only just got it in!"
"Darling it has been a year we've been married hasnt it?"
"Yes dear."
"And in all that time I HAVE HAD TO PUT THE MILK OUT!" I heard a loud crash whilst playing chess by myself and ran to the window.
Down, dead on the pebble road was the body of the woman that lived in that house.
Looking to the right i saw a broken window.
So i took it upon myself to become a detective.
I broke into the house to find the husband, but he was missing.
That was, until i found his legs in the oven. His top half was stabbed with a closeline and hung upside down in one of the cupboards.
Did the wife do this before she jumped out of the window? Did the husband push her out of the window and then do this?
Was our murderer a chef?

I continued, looking from clue to clue until i found a piece of hair. A cat sat on a chair near by staring at me. "Hello there cat. Were your mummy and daddy murdered?" The cat did not answer, cats do not speak often.
"Was the murderer a chef?" I asked
The cat said nothing.

At the police station i asked for some spare human legs to test on in an oven. I wanted to work out why exactly a murderer would do such a thing.
They arrested me
They thought me a threat to society and apparently i became a link in one of their investigations. The investigation, of the woman out of window and man in various places files.

They kick started my memory by sticking a lever off of a wind up toy into the side of my skull, they wound it up.
i could hear a tick tick tick in my head, and i could literally feel my memories returning to me.
"Darling did you put the milk out today?"
Boiling point
"Who puts the milk 'out'? We only just got it in!"
I remembered being sat, nose at the wall angery. Every day, EVERY DAY
"Darling it has been a year we've been married hasnt it?"
EVERY DAY IN A YEAR THEY HAD BEEN NOISY. I remembered that they had been shouting at eachother all night, but no, even in the morning they kept doing it. So i had had enough.
I grabbed a large knife from one of my drawyers and walked down the stairs, outside.
The door of the couples house was open already so i just strolled in.
Knife in one hand, anger, death on the mind i walked up their stairs towards the shouting.
"Yes dear."
"And in all that time I HAVE HAD TO PUT THE MILK OUT!"
"May i have your milk?"
A chubby man with a big white uniform and chef hat was standing in the kitchen beside them. "I am a chef you see, i could really do with some milk."
I remember my anger disapeared as i saw the chef. 'Whats he doing in their house?'
"Who is he?" The husband asked the wife.
The fat man was standing against the wall muffling any sound that came from this room.
"I am a chef, and i heard you dont want your milk."
"Ah yes! Well, ive never heard of chefs coming into the houses before but here you go."
the husband was shocked by his wife, Why are you giving him our milk??"
"Because this is the reason we put the milk 'out'. The chubby chefs walk along the street and pick them up, use them to bake you see."
"But WE paid for it???!!!"
"But THEY can cook."

I remembered suddenly the husband taking the knife from my hand and putting it towards his stomach. "If you give that milk to him i'm going to slice myself up like a chef did it."
The wife cried.
Her tears fell to the ground at a fast pace flooding the room. I noticed this soon and remembered the old stories of Goobus, the dark creature that trapped people in rooms for pleasure, watching them die. Whether it was burning or drowning.
I ran forward and pushed the woman, accidently she slipped in a puddle and fell backwards out of the window.
I stared out and she was dead, blood seeping from her body on the pebbles.
"Goobus could have killed you!" I shouted down to her.
But she was already gone.
The chef made a jolly laugh.
My head still out of the window, i noticed my head pop out of my house window glaring into my own eyes. But i didnt make any reactions, like i could not see me.
I popped my head back in and stared at the two men. "You two could have been in grave danger."

Nothing happened after that
i didnt remember any more.

But they got me for murder of course. I was sat in a jail cell for so many years, until i was released and started The Daily Crumb.
Now i know Goobus is true i know i REALLY DID save their lives that day. But they will never know.
Because they're all dead.

I do like, at the end of a murder to hang my victims up. You see, after getting the idea off of the husband i chopped the man up to pretend the chef had done it.
I only got arrested for the girls death, which they classed as an accident.
But the chef was arrested for life, for the death of the man. He died of fat poisoning later on.

The chef/milk buisness died away with him then. You'll never see a wife putting a bottle of milk out for the chefs anymore.
That closed down because of that day.

I thought before releasing this information, you know. Will the police track me down once and for all for killing the man?
Well no, because i live in the middle of no where. NO ONE WILL EVER FIND ME.

Yes Sennheiser?
no, our address is The Daily Crumb Studios, By Penny Lane, Fiction land, UK. Is that for the wall-e robot on amazon?
nice one mate.

- The Daily Crumb

1 comment:

  1. *laughs*
    Oh, you and the thoughts in your head...Good writing, Muncho. Once I started I had to finish to find out what happened!