Friday, 10 June 2011
by Sandrine Lopez
"I suggest Reverend Green did it with Mrs White, using his lead pipe, in the ballroom!"
Miss Scarlet sighed, "That's not how you play it."
Professor Plum chuckled, "Are you absolutely sure about that?"
Mrs Peacock raised an eyebrow, "By lead pipe, you mean..."
"That he was as hard as one, yes!" Plum confirmed.
"I say," Colonel Mustard weighed the long rope in his hand, "This is a bit saucy. Tying up and whatnot."
Scarlett's eyes rolled ceiling-wards, "And that isn't what it's for either."
"Ooooh, I don't know..." Peacock purred, sidling up to the young blond soldier, caressing the cord with delightful anticipation. "Your room, or mine?"
"It could be a crime of passion..." Scarlett considered. "The candlestick suggests a romantic liaison."
"Well I say to hell with crime. Let's stick with passion." The tall dark professor fondled his moustache suggestively in her direction.
"Or perhaps they were into erotic hot wax foreplay..." Peacock spied the candles flickering in the darkened study, her eyes glazing at some fond memory. The heads of the others turned sharply towards her, raised eyebrows over wide stares. She became aware of the attention. "What? Oh, did I say that out loud?"
Plum chortled to Mustard, "That'll put some lead in your pipe, my boy!"
Scarlett cried, "And we still haven't found out where Reverend Green and Mrs White have got to. I suggest we search, together. Safety in numbers."
"You've obviously not menaged enough, honey." Peacock murmured. Scarlett went as red as her dress, before leading them out.
As they passed the dining room, a distant scream called out.
"Well, I'll be blowed!" Mustard exclaimed.
At his elbow, Peacock suppressed an appreciative smirk, "Later, honey."
Mustard pulled the pistol from his belt and dashed forward. "Some bounder is killing her."
Scarlett's pulse raced. Now this was more like it! Aroused by the dark thrill, she hoisted her evening dress up and tottered after him. Peacock stroked the rope she carried, and sashayed on high heels after Mustard, wondering when they would tie the knot. The Professor eyed the voluptuous firm behind, and strode after her, muttering, "Lead... yes, definitely lead."
The woman's cries got louder as the foursome neared the ballroom. There were exhaustive pants within, a man exerting himself. A woman's loud cries.
Mustard's finger was tight on the revolver trigger. "The scoundrel must be beating her!"
"That's one way of putting it." Peacock's comment was worldly-wise as she turned the handle. "Gee, am I the only one round here getting some?"
Framed by the door, they saw Reverend Green in flagrante delicto, trousers round his ankles, with Mrs White, long skirt hoisted up higher than her spread knees. And it wasn't Holy Communion he was giving, despite her repeated calls for God.
"Obviously not." Scarlett sneered.
Plum puffed his way from behind, his monocle dropping, "Top ho! I was right all along!"
With a sigh of despair, Peacock snatched Mustard's pistol, aimed between Plum's legs... and shot him in the ballroom.
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