as comaboy sat waiting for a miracle, idles was brushing herself down. She'd woken up to find herself in a gutter, and couldn't quite remember how she'd got there. She was somewhere on the edge of town, her head felt dizzy and her arm stung with the dull throbbing pain like someone had given her a dead arm and then she'd fallen on it. She looked around. There was nobody to be seen. Just the orange hue of the street lights fuzzing above her, and the scent of stale perfume coming out from the Picnic Brothel. There was a poster up in one of the windows. Tonight was caberet night, and Johnjohn was performing with his golden feather boa, teasing the locals and batting his eyelashes at anyone who entered. It was a leathal combination, sure to drive any Sinisterian mad with lust. And boy, did johnjohn know it. Idleberry stood up, staggered and fell back down again. Something wasn't right here, and it wasn't that she'd spent the time asleep in the gutter. No. Idles was used to that. There was something else, some other mysterious forces at play. There was only one thing for it.... Idles got back to her apartment. The clock on the wall said half past four, but you know, she wasn't quite sure if it was, or if it was just the fact that Jarvis Cocker was crooning downstairs in the local restuarant, Salt Cellar, run by Will Salt. She picked up the reciever of the phone. She had some serious phonecalls to make. She didn't want to look like a fool, not being able to solve this case, she had to find someone to blame, and fast. Afterall, it was her duty, and her responsibility, and its all very well to end up with wet leaves on your face from a night in the gutter, but egg really wasn't her thing. She had a reputation to uphold. She made the phonecalls, and quickly nipped into her wardrrobe to get changed. Minutes later, she was standing n front of the mirror, wearing blue shorts, a red basque top and a gold headband and sweatbands round her wrists. "Oops" she though "wrong costume". She quickly nipped in again, til she found her tweed skirt and jacket, and a pale cream blouse, and her sensible shoes. "There" she thought to herself "Not wonderwoman, Miss Marple." She waited til those who she had summoned to the room arrived, and sat in a most unlady like fashion, drinking ribena straight from the bottle. She tried to recollect what had happened the night before.... *********** idles had found herself outside Alistair Cooks newstand, where he and a young lad had been selling the papes. "Read all abaaat it!" they had screamed, in mockney accents. Idles had paid for a paper, and picked up a copy. At that moment, Stuart Murdoch crept up behind her and put his hands over her eyes. "Guess who?" he had said. Idles knew who those sticky palms belonged to. It had to be Murdoch. She only wished he'd actually wash his hands a little more often. They had ended up, inevitably, back at his bacholor pad, which was indeed pretty cool, all done up with little remote controls for everything, in a sort of sixties way. She sat listening to him, getting him more and more drunk on Ribena and plying him with chupa chups, trying to get the truth out of him. If he knew what the truth was. But Murdoch was a hardman. A hard core West coaster. And he could handle his ribena well. Idles had forgotten that. She forgot what a light weight and cheap date she was. ******************** That was all she could recall. She was a little dissapointed that she'd ended up in the gutter, but was sure it wasn't Murdoch who had put her there... no... ***************** She recalled a knock at the door, shortly before she passed out. Murdoch had answered it in his Hugh Hefner smoking jacket.. and been over powered by a rather spooky pizzaboy that looked exactly like..... ************ Idles sat down. They were all here. Murdoch, V bird, The Narrow Wizard, Sunset, Timothy Meskers, The Ugly Gardiner dame, Photojenni, Robin Stout, and comaboy. "I've gathered you all here, becuase I know who started the runaway thread" started Idles. "Do you?" asked Sunset. "Not really, but I have a air idea of who to blame, and watch them panic and see if it really is them" whispered idles back to her. ************************* Who dunnit? who was it and why? And was it in the library with the pistol? find out in the final concluding installment of "The Case of The runaway Thread"!!! ===== http://clubs.yahoo.com/clubs/corduroysmoke and the world did get covered in a thick haze of corduroy smoke. And it felt good. __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Make international calls for as low as $.04/minute with Yahoo! 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