Dear God, don't look. Turn away, turn your heads and forget that you have seen this. But I know, you can't. You can't unsee what you have seen. it's our morbid fascination with crime scenes. you just can't not look. I am sorry you had to be here for this. As a stay at home dad, I have chosen this life. I have chosen to witness the destruction, the carnage. you're just the poor sap that stumbled upon this blog. But you're here now, so you might as well tag along. Don't touch anything and watch where you step. Follow me, under the tape.
Alright, first things first. The mermaid is by the window. Intelligence suggests that her name was Ariel. love struck and wide eyed. Poor little thing didn't know what waited for her in the real world, the world outside the water and her daddy's protective trident. It looks like she stumbled on the wrong kid, the wrong time. She was the lucky one though. Our people found her before things got to serious. We were able to untie her from the cords of the blinds before she got too hurt. She'll be fine but she's not talking. She may never talk. Mainly because she is plastic and a toy. But we'll see what the headshrinkers downtown can come up with. Now look over here.
The other one we found wasn't so lucky. Watch your step here, don't step on the quarter. Evidence.
Over here. We call this guy Mr. Piggybank. poor bastard. Never had a chance, did he? If you are going to be sick, let me know now. I don't need you loosing your cookies all over my crime scene.
As you can see, his midsection has been ripped out and approximately 3 bucks and 24 cents have been ripped out of his guts. It's not an easy way to go. I've seen roadkill that has been treated better. Whoever did this, and we have suspects, wasn't gentle.
Look at his innards, look at the change pattern. Everywhere. Whoever did this wasn't an expert, at least not yet. The cork was ripped out quickly without any thought, any precision. I'm guessing it's because they needed this job done quick before Dad woke up. Sloppy, but it still got the job done. Once the cork was out, little fingers dug in there and started pulling out any money it could find. But the money is thrown all over the place which tells me that this person is not organized. Looks to me like whoever did this likes to play rough.
How'd it go down? I don't like to speculate but I will this time. I think what happened here is pretty simple. Our man or girl was going after the pig. Maybe it was personal, maybe the person responsible was owed money, or maybe it's because Dad told someone not to open up Mr. Piggybank, I don't know yet. Anyway, things probably started pretty easy and quiet. Some testing on how hard the cork was put in there. Maybe just pulling on it a little bit. But soon our suspect got frustrated and things started to get out of control. Our suspect pulled hard, to hard and the cork went flying out with half of Mr. Pigs innards. Now the money lust was on. One little taste and that's all it took. I think that the rest of the change was being pulled out when Ariel showed up and saw what she wasn't supposed to see. At this point our suspect was to far in it to turn back. Ariel got nabbed, tied up and was left alone to be dealt with latter. But what the perp didn't figure on was making all that racket. Our office got an anonymous bark shortly after 8 this morning. The suspect got spooked and took off. That's what I think happened. I just can't prove any of it yet. But believe me, I got a suspect.
Here, check out this file. Little Hoss, aka Gozar the Gozarian, aka Mrs. Staypuff, aka Knuckles Mcgee. A rough one to be sure. She's pulled stuff like this all over the east side of the house. Rampaging up and down the stairs and any little toy that gets in her way. Yesterday she did a dime in time out and came out with a smile on her face. This is her M.O to be sure but we can't prove a damn thing.
Our best bet is by going to her wheel man, Bubba Hoss, aka The Toadie. Loyal little cuss that has been working under Knuckles for several years now. Gets treated pretty good but things seem to have gotten rough for him. He's not getting his full share of the gold fish at snack time, gets pushed out of rooms from time to time, things like that. Word on the carpet is that he doesn't like the way things are going and is perhaps looking to trade up. Maybe get a bigger scoop of ice cream after dinner, things like that.
We made a run at them a little while ago. Didn't get squat. Tried to get Bubba Hoss out from under the boss's thumb for a little bit, maybe question him when the power wasn't around. No dice. The first sign of weakness and Little Hoss asked him if he wanted to go watch Blues Clues. Clear message: talk and you'll be getting Indian burns and purple nerples. He didn't budge.
She didn't give us anything to go on either. Just sat there smiling and shaking her head. "No Dad, I have no idea what happened to Mr. PiggyBank and why his money is all over the floor." I wasn't buying it and she knew it. But that young chick is tough and we couldn't get anything from her. She just sat there holding her juice and flipping that damn nickel of hers in the air all the time.
Feels like I'm missing something, I know. But don't worry, we'll figure this out. They always want to be caught. Sooner or later she'll make a mistake and we'll put her in time out for another 5 to 10 and see if that chills her out a little bit.
In the meantime, we keep investigating. We keep on doing the job because that's what we do. Get your head on straight, we need the best out of both of us if we are going to crack this one.
Now get down to forensics and see what they can tell you about that partial we found.