Re: The Noodle Compound (Spring 2009 OT Thread)
The Noodle Detective Agency
Chapter Four
The morning sun bored white hot holes into my skull, reminding me that nights of pounding the moonshine carry repercussions. I winced, and stretched carefully, not wanting to plummet from the sleeping nest I'd built in one of the Compound's trees. Hey, old habits die hard. I clambered out of the tree, and went inside to get cleaned up, slurp some coffee, and consider the case.
I don't like to abandon cases, although I've done it before. I'd walked away from the Case of the Big Hurty Sphere when it became clear that my client had simply seen the first 80% of Star Wars Episode Four too many times. Heck, I'd run away from the Case of the Secret Junk when it turned out my client was not actually a beautiful dame whose pet ocelot had been kidnapped, and was actually a transvestite hamster veterenarian with an eye for dashing detectives. I shuddered a bit at the memory. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)
Jeeves, my personal assistant, entered the drawing room where I was enjoying a cup of heavily caffeinated mud. "This came for you, sir." He was holding a silver tray, itself supporting a small cream colored envelope. I slammed the rest of my coffee, and opened the envelope.
"Hmm.", I remarked.
"Yes, sir?"
"Yes. 'Hmm' pretty well sums it up. What are the odds, Jeeves, that the very day after I take on a case involving a tragic curry accident that devastated an Indian metropolis, the very day after I am informed by a shadowy character that I should 'follow the curry', I receive out of the blue an invitation to be a judge in the 2009 Illinois State Fair Curry Contest?"
"Apparently 100%, sir."
"Well, you're the math wiz." I scratched the stubble on my chin. There was no way around it - this case had grown bigger than I could handle alone. It was time to call in the reserves. "Jeeves, I'm going to need a gallon of soy sauce, a small jar of honey, 73 feathers, and a wombat."
"You mean . . ..?" He raised an eyebrow a quarter of an inch, which for Jeeves is the equivalent of a normal person vomiting, fainting, arising from their pool of vomit to set off several fireworks, punching a policeman, and performing brain surgery on a rocket scientist.
"Yes. I'm calling in the Outsider." Silence reigned for several slow moments as we considered the ramifications. "Call Richard Simmons."