Here are Week 1 @Twitstery tweets of "The Golden Parachute" the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance
Willum Mortimus Granger was still dead. How then was he standing, larger than life, at the entrance to my office? "Knock knock" he proffered
Knock knock? When I last saw Granger he was definitely splitsville, cut in half by A his amoral yet strangely overzealous clone lab director
You say "Cut in half? That's ridiculous! No one would believe that!" CSI-Miami disagrees. Watch "Die By the Sword" http://bit.ly/XydZur
Granger had had a series of organ replacements at his cloning lab "Body Parts R Us". The generally accepted theory was he sought immortality
As his surgeon, A slipped Granger fast absorbing sutures during his last procedure and then switched his cell ringtone to "Call to Post".
Befuddeled by toxic honey from his exwife's beeviary, Granger answered his phone and split in two as his bottom half took off down the track
I know, sounds like a crazy and overcomplicated way to knock someone off, but no more so than a high speed bike ride with a Japanese sword.
A asserted killing Granger saved mankind from some kind of bondage. Or from Little Caesar's pizzas. I wasn’t completely clear on that point.
It was something about haute Shakespearean princes and bas cuisine. Not your typical motive for murder, but definitely above my pay grade.
Maybe A was a few Twitter followers shy of a flock. He wasn't the only one of his 26 single lettered siblings I encountered on that case.
I exchanged harsh words, or at least hard consonants, with his brother B, partner to Granger's failed enterprise, Lavender Blue Dilly Dilly.
Thanks to a verbal tussle with B I haven't fully recovered my voiced bilabial fricative. And I haven't yet figured out the mysterious Mr. X.
Any of the twenty six siblings had motive to knock Granger off but only A had the tapioca to do it. His sole mistake was to follow my tweets
Following my every move on Twitter, A stayed a step ahead of me as I was bee stung, scent drenched, de-catheterized, and nearly freeze died.
Yes, I survived a series of painful misadventures to bring A to justice. The generally accepted theory was I sought to avoid that again.
Who am I? My name is Arkaby. You don't know about me unless you have read a book by the name of Executive Severance; but that doesn't matter
That book was made by Robert K. Blechman and he told the truth, mainly. There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth.
Until the Willum Granger murder my cases were all routine. Murder victims were found with various grievous injuries, but seldom cut in twain
It appeared that Granger was now not dead and somehow reassembled himself. He had returned from the grave and I had his undivided attention.
That also seldom happens. He wasn't a cat, so I assumed he couldn't be both dead and not dead. There were only two possible explanations.
One, Granger was actually dead and this wasn't him. As he stood before me playing "knock knock" games, this alternative had a disadvantage.
(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)