Sunday, December 14, 2014

Predatory Loans — Tweeted Mystery "The Golden Parachute" Continues

Here are Week 99 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

Shorter doesn't help. Maybe slower. "With Farley ded, you're heir to BP R U. Sing here." The Concierhe hands me a docment. "What's this?"

Maybe even slower. "I don't want you to record this." "I'm not. I'm tweeting for Arkaby." "Oh, Tweeting. That's OK. Nobody reads tweets."

He notices I'm favoring my left arm. "What's wrong with your arm?"

"You bumped the arm Farley shot." "Oh. Sorry. Can you sign your name?"

"Sure. Why?" "Good. Sign here.""What is this?" "This invoice authorizes my activity and covers expenses."

I scan the document the Concierge hands me. "You want me to authorize the destruction of Uncle Farley's Safe Room?"

"Yes." "There's no dollar amount on this invoice." "We don't know what it will cost."

"I see you're charging me $100 for printing this invoice." "We know what that costs." "$100?" "Materials, time and labor. Yes."

I hand the invoice back to the Concierge. "I'm not signing. I don't want you to do anything to this room until we find my uncle's killer."

"Leave Farley's remains plastered all over the walls, floor and ceiling?" "Of course not. Clean him out. Put what you can gather in an urn."

"Preserve Uncle Farley's Safe Room as is. When I come back, I want to see all the financial records of Body Parts R Us." "You're the boss."

I turn to Dot. "Dr. Dot. I want to see any report of your findings before you share them with this cop." "You're the boss." "Yes I am."

So there it is. As sole heir I now lead what’s left of Dad's empire: This Body Parts R Us clinic and the dregs of Lavender Blue Dilly Dilly.

I don't know why Dad thought it was a good idea to combine a perfume concern, a blue coal mine and two pickle factories, but there you go.

There's not much of LBDD left. Dad's conglomerate was a victm of the 2008 economic crash and an ill-fated investment in senior scentology.

They drained dry the perfume concern. They depleted the blue coal mine. Both pickle factories went sour. All that's left is debt and regret.

Beside bailing out Arkaby, finding my uncle's killer and preventing this paradise switch, I have to decide what to do with Body Parts R Us.

I'll think about that tomorrow. Right now I've got to get downtown. I say to the Concierge "I need a cab. Can you lend me twenty dollars?"

He just stares. "Hello? Can you?" His eyes focus. "I'm sorry. It sounded like you just asked me for money. It was a new experience for me."

"I'm asking you to LEND it to me." "Ah, lend. That's different." He pulls papers from his coat pocket. I'll just need a few signatures."

"You want me to sign a promissory note for $20?" "No." "That's a relief." "I'm asking you to sign a note for $1000." "1000? I only need 20!"

"Standard Hospital Procedure. I can't make any money lending only twenty dollars." "This says you're charging me 14% interest!" "Again SHP."

"I inherited this place. Aren't I the owner now?" "Do you want me to break the rules just for you?" "I guess not." "Sign here and here."

Rixey comes over "Christ's sake! Here's $20. Don't sign this joker's note." "No thanks. I'd rather go into debt than accept your charity."

Dot hands me a $20. "Take mine." A hazmat-suited cop also passes me money. Suddenly I'm surrounded by cops and technicians offering me cash.

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at 
@Twitstery)

Sunday, December 7, 2014

The Gift of Death! — Tweeted Mystery "The Golden Parachute" Continues

Here are Week 98 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

"NO, I DON'T BELIEVE IN GHOSTS BUT I KNOW HOW TO MAKE ONE! NOW BACK OFF! Sorry about that." "Are you OK?" "Just a little prison banter."

"Did someone hit you in the head?" "No. I know now it wasn't any of them who sent me on this quest." "Who was it?" "I still don't know."

"To continue please deposit twenty five cents." "I've got to hang up." "You haven't answered my question." "Which is?" "Why am I tweeting?"

There's a 'CLICK' and we're cut off. "ARKABY! GOD DAMN IT! WHY AM I TWEETING?" No response. Crap.

I've circled the hall again. I'm at the entrance to Farley's not-so-safe Safe Room. Dr. Dot stands there in heated conversation with Rixey.

Rixey says "What happened to Granger's body?" Dot says "You're looking at it." Rixey scans the room. "I see his blood. Where's the rest?"

Dot indicates the pink colored interior. "That's just it. He's all there." "That's not possible. You're telling me his body disappeared?"

"No. His body has been reduced to its constituent molecules." "What could do that?" "I don't know." I say "I know. A focused particle beam."

Dot says "Farley's body was deconstructed by a particle accelerator?" "It's the only possible explanation. He became post-structural."

"One problem. We don't have a cyclotron here." "There's no chance Farley was deconstructed elsewhere and then spread out over here?" "No."

I say to Rixey. "Are you seriously charging Arkaby with this crime?" "He had the means and the motive." "Arkaby has a particle accelerator?"

"We haven't yet figured out how he did it, but we will." "You have a real problem." "Yes, but I'm dealing with it." "I don't think you are."

"After I bail Arkaby out he'll find the real murderer and make you look like a fool." Rixey pulls out his wallet and hands me a dollar bill.

"What's this?" "My donation to Arkaby's bail. It's wrapped around my card for when you dump him and want better." "I thought you were gay!"

Rixey pulls back his hand. "I see you can't be bribed. My compliments on your loyalty to a losing cause." "F%#k you!" "You had your chance."

As I step up to Rixey, Dot steps between us. "This is a crime scene and a contamination area. If you are going to tango, take it outside."

Dot whispers "What are you doing? If you attack him he'll arrest you! Then where will you be?" "He can't arrest me!" Rixey says "Yes I can."

Dot is right. I can see why Arkaby dislikes this creep. His only chance is to get out of jail and find the real killer. It's up to me.

Rixey isn't worth the tweet. I turn and bump my recently injured arm into a thin little man with a sharp nose. "Ow! How does Arkaby do it?"

Ow! With mny left arn unjured, I hjave to twert one-handed. It's the Cvoncierge. "What are you doin?""Waitng to reclaim Farleys safe room."

Maybe shorter twrets will be easierr. "What will you do with it?"!"

The Conxierge says "Hose it down, sterilize it and then tear it apart to make more bed space."

"Can you do that to a vrime scenr?"


(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)

Sunday, November 30, 2014

Sail on, Paradigm Shifts! — Tweeted Mystery "The Golden Parachute" Continues



















Here are Week 97 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

"Uh, sure! On my way! Why is the ringtone 'Brown Eyed Girl'?" "I like 'Brown Eyed Girl.'" "You know my eyes are blue don't you?" "Uh, sure!"

"I just like that song." "What about 'Sweet Child O' Mine'?" "What about it?" "'She's got eyes of the bluest skies…'" "That's good too."

"'I'd hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain.'" "Still quoting Guns N' Roses?" "Just saying it would make a good ring tone."

"Got it." "Where do we go, where do we go?" "GOT IT!" "No seriously. Where do we go?" "Regi, I'm calling on a payphone in my communal cell."

There's a line waiting behind me that's, let’s say, impatient. Get me out of here to a warm safe place and I'll figure out where do we go."

"Are you still tweeting?"

"Of course I am."

"Is that why you take so long to answer me?

"Yes."

"You have to finish our conversation and then tweet it afterwards."

"OK. Why do I have to tweet everthing?"

"I'LL BE DONE IN A MINUTE!" "Huh?" "I was speaking to the guy behind me." "Why do we tweet?" "We tweet so that we can get up again." "Huh?"

"That makes no sense at all. Get up from where?" "How about this: 'I tweet therefore I am.' That means that what I tweet defines who I am."

"I tweet therefore I am? So you don't exist right now?" "No. I exist, I'm just not tweeting." "You're not tweeting because you're in jail."

"I know I'm in jail. They're holding me over til morning when I go before the judge. You have to post bail to get me out." "I'll be there."

"I have one last question." "Yes?" "Why am I tweeting?" "It's a long story. I SAID A MINUTE! My tweets are evidence of the paradigm shift."

"What's a paradigm shift, a designer dress?" "A paradigm shift is a change in the way we view reality." "Tell me again in plain English."

"How about this: Do you believe the Earth is flat or round?" "Both." "Huh?" "I KNOW the Earth is round, but I live on it as if it's flat."

"What do you mean?" "I don't believe I'd fall off the Earth's edge if I travel too far east or west." "But you WOULD fall off a flat Earth!"

"Not if I stop soon enough. Why don't I fall off a round Earth?" "Because of gravity!" "An invisible force keeping me from floating away?"

"Give me a break!" Arkaby yells "NO SHE'S NOT!" "What was that?" "Nothing. Comments from my fellow detainees. You don't believe in gravity?"

"I'll believe it when I see it." A voice says "Deposit 25 cents to continue." Arkaby says "This is my last quarter." I hear a "Clink!"

"OK. Try this: Does the Sun circle the Earth or vice versa?" "Both." "Really?" "Yes. I KNOW the Earth orbits the Sun. I live the opposite."

"How can you live like Earth orbits the Sun?" "Everyone still thinks Earth is center of the universe. We still say 'sunrise' and 'sunset.'"

"OK Forget all that. I was sent me to find you because someone is trying to change all of reality as we know it. That's the paradigm shift."

"Who told you that?" "Your father or your uncle or maybe a ghost." "Did you fall and hit your head in jail?" "I know now it wasn't any of them."

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at 
@Twitstery)

Sunday, November 23, 2014

How to Be a Super Sleuth — Tweeted Mystery "The Golden Parachute" Continues

Here are Week 96 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

Mom was not right after losing her bees. She'd wander around her Beeviary and I'd ask "What's wrong?” “None of my bees wax!" was her reply.

By day she's physically in the Beeviary, but mentally elsewhere. Each night she goes out, muttering to herself about her missing brood.

When Mom lost her swarm. I lost her. So I lost Dad and Mom at the same time, one to a brutal murder, the other to a "broodal" murmur.

Now I've lost Uncle Farley, Dad's ne'er-do-well twin brother. Well, I actually didn't lose him. I know where he is. I just don't know how.

Farley was vaporized. I'm a second semester medical student. What happened can't be explained by anything I learned in my first semester.

Who killed Farley and why? These cops are too busy playing "Who's Got the Biggest Dick" to solve this crime. Looks like it's up to me—again.

Last time I played detective with Arkaby it sent a chill down my spine. The killer shut us up the freezer where we almost became corpsicles.

Lesson learned: Leave the crime solving to the professionals. If only I could find some. If I didn't have Arkaby I don't know what I'd do.

It occurs to me I don't actually have Arkaby. By now he's been processed, booked and is cooling his heels in a cell. I better go get him.

I realize that while tweeting I have been continuously circling the Body Parts R Us corridors. I thought I was going out to call a cab.

How does Arkaby do it? While I'm writing this stuff I get distracted and bump into things. Tweeting isn't multitasking, it's multi-ignoring.

I've watched Arkaby conduct a full bore physical confrontation while his thumbs are working the cellphone keyboard. He never misses a tweet.

What else should I say about Arkaby? When I first saw him on TV I thought he was a joke. Then when I met him I finally got the punch line.

On first our encounter I immediately had second thoughts. He wasn't much to look at, his bandaged head swollen like a blister about to pop.

Unrecognizable, he was more interested in watching cartoons than solving Dad's murder. He got with the program once I yanked his catheter.

By "yanked his catheter" I mean just that. I yanked out his catheter. And I pulled his IV line. I freed him to continue his investigation.

As we wandered around Body Parts R Us, my first thought was he didn't have a clue. As I spent time with him I saw a method to his madness.

Arkaby is a subconscious sleuth, solving cases in spite of himself. In his own mind he's Batman. In reality he's more of a "reverse" Joker.

I've circled the entire BP R U corridor again. This continuous tweeting is distracting! How much time has passed? How does Arkaby do it?

In prison by now, he'll never know if I put it aside for awhile. Arkaby's phone rings. His ringtone is "Brown-Eyed Girl"? My eyes are blue!

The Caller ID is blocked. "Hello?" "Hi Regi." "Arkaby? How are you calling me?" "You're my one phone call. Are you coming to bail me out?"

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at 
@Twitstery)

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Why Would You Use Poison If You Can Kill With Honey? — Tweeted Mystery "The Golden Parachute" Continues




























Here are Week 95 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

"This is crap. I can't believe this is happening. What? Oh. Arkaby says I should type my name so you know it's not him sending this message.

"They put him in cuffs and marched him off. Just like that. Before the goons grabbed him he handed me his phone and told me "Keep tweeting."

"Keep tweeting? What the hell does that mean? Why does Arkaby want me to text tweets on his cell phone until I can bail him out? Tweet tweet!

"My name is Regi Granger. Farley Granger who is the murder victim is my father Willum Granger's twin brother. He was also murdered. Arkaby…

"No! I'm Regi, daughter of Willum Granger, who was murdered and is Farley's twin who was murdered as well...This is harder than it looks!

"I wasn't murdered, that was my father and uncle. Detective Arkaby was involved in both and so his boss who is head detective arrested him.

"Arkaby solved my father's murder by figuring out it was the Police Coroner who once was my father's surgeon when he threw us in the freezer.

"The Police Coroner was my dad's surgeon at his cloning lab, Body Parts R Us. Dad had this thing about rewriting his DNA into palindromes.

"I need a break! I have to keep this up until Arkaby gets out of jail? This is harder than it looks!

"Tweet tweet!

"I've looked through Arkaby's phone apps. Level 347? When does he find time to play Candy Crush? He takes a lot selfies, always in shadow.

"What's the deal with that? Now I have to go downtown and bail him out. I don't know the deal, but I know that Arkaby didn't kill my uncle!

"When Arkaby showed up at my Caribbean medical school because my father's ghost sent him to rescue me, or so he said, I was happy to see him.

"Then we found my father in the pathology lab when he should have been back home resting peacefully in the grave we bought and paid for.

"Someone put Dad back together. Hmm. Arkaby's phone has a gun app. That will be a big help! I wonder if he has a "Get Out of Jail Free" app?

"The funny thing is my Dad's body hadn't decayed. McDonald's hamburgers don't decay but that has nothing to do with my Dad. Umm. Tweet tweet!

"Rixey's men are going over the crime scene under Dr. Dot's supervision. They still have their hazmat boots and gloves. I need a new outfit.

"I'll stop at home on my way to bail out Arkaby. I can change, grab a bite to eat and my checkbook. One problem: All my stuff is at my Mom's.

"I haven't spoken to Mom since she pulled me out of the Police Headquarters freezer. Before I could even say goodbye she whisked me away.

"Mom was Dad's second wife. His first, a classics language instructor, was one for the books. He lost his Latin lover and gained my mother.

"When Dad began to clone himself Mom said "Enough of you already!" and divorced him, then remarried him just so she could divorce him again.

"I don't blame Mom. Dad was the ultimate narcissist, cloning himself to the point where she didn't know whether he was coming or going.

"I can't complain. Not only was he always there for me when I was little, he was also there and there. He was the original multitasker.

"How does Arkaby do this tweeting in real time? I can't walk and text; I keep bumping into things. Come to think of it, that explains a lot.

"So "A" who was one of 26 single syllable siblings was Dad's cloning surgeon at Body Parts R Us and then became Head Coroner with the police.

"He stitched Dad up with quick dissolving sutures during his last transplant and then switched his cell phone's ring tone to "Call to Post."

"When Dad's phone played that tune his bottom half split from his top and took off. Oh, I forgot to mention that Dad used to be a race horse.

"Well, not exactly a race horse, but he ran in and won horse races. I never actually saw him run, but my money would be on him in any race!

"After the second divorce my mother took up beekeeping, constructing an enormous Beeviary to hold her hives. Everything was clover and honey.

"That is til all her bees mysteriously disappeared. And there was a problem with that toxic New Zealand honey. My Mom couldn't give it away.

"She'd tried to replace her lost bees with a hardier New Zealand breed. It turned out the honey they produced was harmful to human life.

"Attaching a warning label saying "USE OF THIS NATURAL ORGANIC PRODUCT MAY CAUSE VOMITING, DELIRIUM AND VIOLENT CONVULSIONS" didn't help.

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at 
@Twitstery)

Sunday, November 9, 2014

The Medium is the Mess Age! — Tweeted Mystery "The Golden Parachute" Continues



Here are Week 94 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

"I step up to the plastic barrier and say "What's the problem?" A cop in yellow hazmat says "The lab rats want to contaminate a crime scene."

"A white-suited BP R U hazmat tech says "These cops will BE biohazard contaminated if they pass this barrier before we finish our tests."

"I press against the plastic barrier. Both white and yellow teams recoil in horror. "GET BACK!" They scream, waving their hazmat-suited arms.

""You'll contaminate us!" "To contaminate or not to contaminate. Hazmat is the question!" I press harder. "Don't make me come out there!"

"Rixey says "What are you doing?" "Applying psychology to resolve the dispute." As I speak the barrier falls forward to the ground. "Oops."

""I applied too much psychology." Dot says "You've tainted everyone in the corridor!" "They're in hazmat suits. How are they contaminated?"

"A new white hazmat-suited technician appears and shouts "Who breached containment?" All the white and yellow hazmat technicians point to me.

""Me? I'm the solution not the problem! We don't even know for sure that pink stuff is Farley's remains. He may have given us the pink slip!"

"The new white hazmat says "No he hasn't. I finished the DNA tests. It's Farley alright." Dot says "Any indication of what killed him?" "No."

""There's no indication of infectious biologic agents. We found no chemical residue as from an explosive device. Frankly, we're stumped."

"Rixey says "Then how was Granger sprayed all over his safe room?" Dot says "Well, we can rule out suicide." "I rule out NOTHING!" I replied

"Spontaneous self combustion was not at the top of my list of likely solutions. I hate ceding any ground when it comes to crime deduction.

"Dot says "Maybe this was self inflicted. Then how do you explain the other victim just like this I have in the autopsy lab next door?"

"So Farley isn't the only one to make a splash. "You have another liquefied body in your lab?" "No, his dead twin Willum. You knew that.”

"I know that. Willum Granger's body, torn in half by an overzealous surgeon somehow traveled to the Caribbean before I returned it Stateside.

"I know that. Farley Granger's body, deconstructed into its constituent parts by an unknown medium, has been scattered to the four corners.

"I look around the room. Farley's figure has become our new ground. McLuhan famously claimed that our media extend our bodies. Now I get it!

"Yellow and white suited techs remove their gear. I say "What's happening?" Dot says "There's no biohazard." "Are we free to go?" "Please."

"I turn to Regi "Now I can finally solve your uncle's murder. Let's get the hell out of here." She says "I'm ready. What's our first move?"

""No more confined spaces or locked rooms! I want the road to rise up to meet me, the wind at my back and the sun shining warm on my face."

""I'll put a spring in my step, a smile on my face and a song in my heart." Regi says "I'd settle for a change of clothing and a hot meal."

""OK. A spring, a smile, a song, a change and a meal. Then a crime to solve!" "And why Dad's body was stolen and shipped to my med school."

""Regi, as long as we're together, there's nothing we can't do!" "You really believe we can't do nothing?" "I do. We can't fail!" "Let's go!"

"I take Regi's hand and we start down the corridor. Rixey says "Not so fast. Arkaby, you're under arrest for the murder of Farley Granger."

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at 
@Twitstery)

Sunday, November 2, 2014

I Can Hazmat? — Tweeted Mystery "The Golden Parachute" Continues

Here are Week 93 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

"We weren’t exactly inseparable." Rixey says "I thought you were together the whole time." "I fell asleep. Arkaby joined me in bed later."

"Were you asleep long enough for Arkaby to gain entrance to Farley's safe room, administer his lethal mechanism and then cover his tracks?"

"You propose that in an extremely short span of time, Arkaby got through a barred door that completely thwarted you and your men?" "Yes."

"Once through that SOLE entrance he killed my uncle in a mysterious and unnecessarily thorough manner?" "Yes." "Then he hid it all?" "Yes."

"Removed all traces of pink residue from his person, relocked the blast-proof door FROM THE INSIDE, and then returned to my bedside?" "YES."

"Where he seduced me, caused me to feel things no woman has felt before and then fell asleep beside me?" "I'm not sure about the last part."

"Snuggling against me, spooning me in a way that drove me crazy with the desire to do it all again?" "I'm REALLY not sure about that."

"You think that's what happened?" "A working hypothesis." "It's also impossible!" I say "I made you feel things no woman has felt before?"

"More or less." Rixey says "I've learned that once you eliminate the improbable, whatever remains, no matter how impossible, is the truth."

"I drove you crazy with the desire?" "Yes. More or less." Rixey says "I'll give you the 'sleeping with' parts. Can we focus on the murder?"

Regi looks him squarely in the eye. "Not yours to give." I say "And you have that quote wrong." One of the cops says "Makes sense to me."

Rixey says "What parts do you find improbable?" I say "In the efficient case, I didn't want to do it, and even if I did, I couldn't do it."

"In the formal case, Farley's remains in liquid state will make the real killer hard to find." "Not hard for a real detective." "Uh huh."

"In the material case, the killer being an efficient killer will have left no material clues as to his or her motive or method of murder."

"In the final case, I've no logical reason to plaster Farley all over the place." "I can think of lots of reasons." "Maybe you did it then."

"Don't be ridiculous!" "I'm not being ridiculous, I'm being Aristotelian." "Save it for the judge." We hear sounds of scuffling outside.

Just outside the safe room Body Parts R Us technicians in white hazmat suits struggle with police CSI technicians in yellow hazmat suits.

Rixey and Dot say "Tell your men to stand down. No! You tell YOUR men!" I'm in charge here! No! I'm in charge!" I say "I'll settle this."

I step up to the plastic barrier and say "What's the problem?" A cop in yellow hazmat says "The lab rats want to contaminate a crime scene."

A white-suited BP R U hazmat tech says "These cops will BE biohazard contaminated if they pass this barrier before we finish our tests."

"They wear hazmat suits. How can they be contaminated?" I lean against the plastic barrier. Both white and yellow hazmats recoil in horror.

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at 
@Twitstery)