*sigh*
This is my pathetic attempt at humor. lmao
Won’t Get Fooled Again
“Mr. Drusba! Mr. Drusba! I found a hand in the elevator!” Steve Mumly shouted frantically as he hurried into the principal’s office. He dropped his crutches carelessly and pulled a human hand out of his pocket. “I was on my way to chemistry when I found this in the elevator.” He tossed the hand onto the desk with a thump, scattering papers and splattering the area with blood.
Mr. Drusba recoiled as it landed on his desk and closed his eyes in horror. “Steve,” he said, “couldn’t you have left that in the elevator?”
“Well… I didn’t think you’d believe me,” he said slowly.
Mr. Drusba sighed, then picked up the phone. “I guess I better call the police.”
Steve shuffled his feet nervously, leaning awkwardly on his crutches. As Mr. Drusba hung up, he asked “So I can just go to class now, right?”
“No, I think you better stay and talk to the police.”
Ten minutes later, the lights in the school dimmed. Mr. Drusba and Steve looked around worriedly. Soon, four figures appeared in the doorway. The red-haired man in front slowly approached Mr. Drusba’s desk. The other three people were silhouetted behind him.
The red-haired man stood, looking down at Mr. Drusba, hands on his hips, thinning red hair blowing impressively. “The name’s Cain. Henry Cain.” He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on. “Henry Cain the III, actually.”
YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
“Won’t Get Fooled Again”, by The Who suddenly blared from the speakers. As it faded away, Henry took off his sunglasses. “And these,” he waved carelessly behind him, “are my assistants. What seems to be the problem, Mr. …?”
“Drusba,” the principal said faintly, staring at the man in front of him as he replaced his sunglasses. “Bob Drusba. I’m the principal here. And this,” he said emphatically, gesturing at the severed hand on his desk, “is the problem!”
Henry took off his sunglasses and looked closely at the severed hand amid the various blood-splattered papers on his desk. “It would seem,” he said slowly, “that someone lost a hand.” He put his sunglasses back on and looked around imposingly while the excerpt of “Won’t Get Fooled Again” played again. “Evan, run some uhhh… what d’ya call ‘em? Tests! Run some tests. Mr. Wolfe, you and Courtney check out the elevator. I will talk to these witnesses. And remember,” he added impressively, “That hand will point us to our killer.”
Courtney and Mr. Wolfe turned and left the office. Evan knelt on the floor and opened his kit, digging through numerous bags of marijuana to find a pair of gloves.
“So, Mr. Mumly,” Henry asked, whipping off his sunglasses. “I understand you found this hand in the elevator. What exactly were you doing in the elevator?”
“Well I was just going to cla-”
“Steve, don't play games with me. Don't think that I don’t think exactly what you’re thinking about, because I know I do.” The same music again came blasting over the loudspeaker.
“What?” asked Steve.
“You know what I mean! You were getting hungry and thought 'hey why don’t I just nibble a few fingers off.'”
“No that's disgusting! Hey, why is your hair blowing in the wind? There aren’t any windows open.”
“That’s not important. Just tell me why you became a cannibal in the first place. I know where you live.” Henry put his sunglasses on and turned to Mr. Drusba.
Meanwhile, Courtney and Mr. Wolfe finally found their way to the elevator.
“There’s an awful lot of blood in here,” remarked Mr. Wolfe, looking around the tiny elevator. “I think we’re in the right place.”
He and Courtney began swabbing each pool of blood and dripping random liquids from their kits onto the samples.
“Funny, this doesn’t feel like blood,” Courtney said. Mr. Wolfe shrugged and opened his mouth to speak, but Henry beat him to it.
“Of course its blood, you fool. It’s red. Now, this blood trail leads away from the elevator. If we find the beginning, we’ll find the origin of this trail.” He put his sunglasses on and turned to check his reflection in the elevator doors. As he turned, he happened to notice a woman mopping up some of the blood. He moved towards her but stumbled over a table. He quickly righted the table, brushed himself off, and, glancing around furtively, slipped off his sunglasses. “Excuse me. Ma’am, but you are tampering with evidence,” he said slowly as he put on his sunglasses.
The woman glared at Henry. “I am Doris Kachuba, school janitor. That>,” she pointed to the floor, “is ketchup. I’d hardly call it evidence.”
Henry lowered his voice to a whisper. “It’s blood,” he said solemnly.
“It’s ketchup, you freak! Taste it.”
Henry removed his sunglasses, knelt down, and stuck a finger in the red splatter. He slowly licked his finger clean and stood up. He stared down Mrs. Kachuba, then stalked towards the principal’s office.
As he entered, Evan looked up. “Henry, the Hummer won’t fit in the hallway. How am I supposed to get this hand to the lab for further testing?”
“That, Evan, is no longer our problem.” Henry muttered furiously. “Mr. Mumly, that was not a blood covered hand, it was a ketchup covered hand. Can you explain that?”
Steve looked down at his feet, then burst out, “I’m sorry, okay! I just wanted people to notice me. I thought if I found a hand in the elevator, everyone would think I was cool!”
Henry quickly walked back to the elevator to tell Courtney and Mr. Wolfe to pack up their equipment and leave. After they left, he sat down in the corner of the elevator, his knees pulled up to his chest. Courtney and Evan peeked in a little while later when everything was packed up.
“Henry, are you coming?”
Henry was silent.
“I thin he’s pouting,” Evan whispered to Courtney.
Long after they left, Henry continued to sit in the elevator, studying his hands. After a while, he looked up and glared at the blank wall.
“I won’t get fooled again.”
YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
It's supposed to be a CSI:Miami spoof, if that helps at all. *sigh* Funny is not fun. Lemme know what you think. AND BE HONEST!
Won’t Get Fooled Again
“Mr. Drusba! Mr. Drusba! I found a hand in the elevator!” Steve Mumly shouted frantically as he hurried into the principal’s office. He dropped his crutches carelessly and pulled a human hand out of his pocket. “I was on my way to chemistry when I found this in the elevator.” He tossed the hand onto the desk with a thump, scattering papers and splattering the area with blood.
Mr. Drusba recoiled as it landed on his desk and closed his eyes in horror. “Steve,” he said, “couldn’t you have left that in the elevator?”
“Well… I didn’t think you’d believe me,” he said slowly.
Mr. Drusba sighed, then picked up the phone. “I guess I better call the police.”
Steve shuffled his feet nervously, leaning awkwardly on his crutches. As Mr. Drusba hung up, he asked “So I can just go to class now, right?”
“No, I think you better stay and talk to the police.”
Ten minutes later, the lights in the school dimmed. Mr. Drusba and Steve looked around worriedly. Soon, four figures appeared in the doorway. The red-haired man in front slowly approached Mr. Drusba’s desk. The other three people were silhouetted behind him.
The red-haired man stood, looking down at Mr. Drusba, hands on his hips, thinning red hair blowing impressively. “The name’s Cain. Henry Cain.” He pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket and put them on. “Henry Cain the III, actually.”
YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
“Won’t Get Fooled Again”, by The Who suddenly blared from the speakers. As it faded away, Henry took off his sunglasses. “And these,” he waved carelessly behind him, “are my assistants. What seems to be the problem, Mr. …?”
“Drusba,” the principal said faintly, staring at the man in front of him as he replaced his sunglasses. “Bob Drusba. I’m the principal here. And this,” he said emphatically, gesturing at the severed hand on his desk, “is the problem!”
Henry took off his sunglasses and looked closely at the severed hand amid the various blood-splattered papers on his desk. “It would seem,” he said slowly, “that someone lost a hand.” He put his sunglasses back on and looked around imposingly while the excerpt of “Won’t Get Fooled Again” played again. “Evan, run some uhhh… what d’ya call ‘em? Tests! Run some tests. Mr. Wolfe, you and Courtney check out the elevator. I will talk to these witnesses. And remember,” he added impressively, “That hand will point us to our killer.”
Courtney and Mr. Wolfe turned and left the office. Evan knelt on the floor and opened his kit, digging through numerous bags of marijuana to find a pair of gloves.
“So, Mr. Mumly,” Henry asked, whipping off his sunglasses. “I understand you found this hand in the elevator. What exactly were you doing in the elevator?”
“Well I was just going to cla-”
“Steve, don't play games with me. Don't think that I don’t think exactly what you’re thinking about, because I know I do.” The same music again came blasting over the loudspeaker.
“What?” asked Steve.
“You know what I mean! You were getting hungry and thought 'hey why don’t I just nibble a few fingers off.'”
“No that's disgusting! Hey, why is your hair blowing in the wind? There aren’t any windows open.”
“That’s not important. Just tell me why you became a cannibal in the first place. I know where you live.” Henry put his sunglasses on and turned to Mr. Drusba.
Meanwhile, Courtney and Mr. Wolfe finally found their way to the elevator.
“There’s an awful lot of blood in here,” remarked Mr. Wolfe, looking around the tiny elevator. “I think we’re in the right place.”
He and Courtney began swabbing each pool of blood and dripping random liquids from their kits onto the samples.
“Funny, this doesn’t feel like blood,” Courtney said. Mr. Wolfe shrugged and opened his mouth to speak, but Henry beat him to it.
“Of course its blood, you fool. It’s red. Now, this blood trail leads away from the elevator. If we find the beginning, we’ll find the origin of this trail.” He put his sunglasses on and turned to check his reflection in the elevator doors. As he turned, he happened to notice a woman mopping up some of the blood. He moved towards her but stumbled over a table. He quickly righted the table, brushed himself off, and, glancing around furtively, slipped off his sunglasses. “Excuse me. Ma’am, but you are tampering with evidence,” he said slowly as he put on his sunglasses.
The woman glared at Henry. “I am Doris Kachuba, school janitor. That>,” she pointed to the floor, “is ketchup. I’d hardly call it evidence.”
Henry lowered his voice to a whisper. “It’s blood,” he said solemnly.
“It’s ketchup, you freak! Taste it.”
Henry removed his sunglasses, knelt down, and stuck a finger in the red splatter. He slowly licked his finger clean and stood up. He stared down Mrs. Kachuba, then stalked towards the principal’s office.
As he entered, Evan looked up. “Henry, the Hummer won’t fit in the hallway. How am I supposed to get this hand to the lab for further testing?”
“That, Evan, is no longer our problem.” Henry muttered furiously. “Mr. Mumly, that was not a blood covered hand, it was a ketchup covered hand. Can you explain that?”
Steve looked down at his feet, then burst out, “I’m sorry, okay! I just wanted people to notice me. I thought if I found a hand in the elevator, everyone would think I was cool!”
Henry quickly walked back to the elevator to tell Courtney and Mr. Wolfe to pack up their equipment and leave. After they left, he sat down in the corner of the elevator, his knees pulled up to his chest. Courtney and Evan peeked in a little while later when everything was packed up.
“Henry, are you coming?”
Henry was silent.
“I thin he’s pouting,” Evan whispered to Courtney.
Long after they left, Henry continued to sit in the elevator, studying his hands. After a while, he looked up and glared at the blank wall.
“I won’t get fooled again.”
YYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
It's supposed to be a CSI:Miami spoof, if that helps at all. *sigh* Funny is not fun. Lemme know what you think. AND BE HONEST!