Detective Zinglewang steps into the cool Parisian morning air and out into a busling city street. He treads right into a pile of poop, looks down at his foot raising it as his moustache sets on fire. This is not Zinglewangs first day, but he’s pretty much off to a bad start. He lets out a yelp and stumbles backwards in the passing crowds of people groping a large French womans breast. Its her turn to let out a yelp, which she does, then punches Zinglewang’s nostril flames out.
Several minutes later Zinglewang awakens from a dream about riding a giant snail off the edge of the grand canyon in slow motion chased by tiny American Indians to the sound of falling rain. The smell soon confirms that this notion is wrong and reaffirms the idea that he is probably being peed on. He looks up from the pavement just in time to see a tramp mumbling in broken french and pulling his tackle back into his soiled underpants.
Zinglewang disgustedly picks himself up off the floor, the bearded tramp holds out his hand as if asking for a tip , which Zinglewang promptly spits into. He turns to walk away but slips on the turd he trod in earlier, landing “upside his headbonez” as they say in Messapotamia.
Zinglewang knows he needs to get to the Museum of Modern Shart located at 123 Central Paris Boulevard to start working on his latest case: “The case of the mysterious disappearing valuable stuff from within a seemingly well-defended place.” He hails a horse and carriage by putting his fingers up his nose and farting loudly. This causes one eye to temporarily bulge out quite far and go a bit red, but not to worry. A horse and carriage pull up next to him. Zinglewang checks the integrity of the horses by kicking each one of them in the shins. Satisfied, he tells the driver “That’s four lovely ram chaps you’ve got there, shit face. Now fuck off.” He puncuates the word “Off” by headbutting the driver in the ear.
It’s a lovely day so Zinglewang decides to walk to the Museum and mull over the points of the case in his head.
Here’s what he knows so far.
1) The valuable stuff was locked up behind fourteen feet of the finest cardboard.
2) The locks were made from the hardest cheese known to man. (”Glengorn Valley Extra-Chunky Stilton/Cheddar hybrid”)
3) Just before the valuable stuff was stolen, patrons of the museum complained of a “strong smell… kind of like when you accidentally fry your cat instead of some mincemeat.”
4) Huberte Mardeleflange, world famous art thief and ninja guy, took out a full page advertisement in the Paris Daily News a day before the robbery stating “DEAR DETECTIVEs, JE SUIS GOING TO STEAL LE VALUABLE STUFF FROM ZE MUSEUM TOMORROW, OK? YOU CAN CONTACT ME AT 554 PEPPY LE PUE STREET AU REVOIR! XXXX ” along with a colour photo and a scratch and sniff patch of his own personal odour.
This was going to be a tough case. Possibly tougher than the case of the “Mysterious Death of 100 year old man whilst Parachuting from the Eiffel Tower during the great parachute drought of 1237″.
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