Disclaimer: the fun in the FunHouse
stays in the FunHouse. Please read
responsibly, and do not take Fun-
House too seriously.
Hearing people cheering loud and proud from the old gym, I walked in that direction. I was about to find out if anyone there had connections to the murder of our new mascot.
The cheerleading squad was busy in their intense pyramid practice, so I could not ask them questions.
The Old Musko, hook in hand, was getting ready to do his final dance and I did not want to interrupt him.
I walked over to the dance team while they took a break. Everyone started to walk away from the gym in different directions with empty water bottles in hand.
Two young women were talking back-in-forth heatedly on the gym floor and looked concerned.
“They may know something,” I said to myself. It seemed odd that they seemed so worried.
Casually starting up a conversation with the ladies, I finally got to the point where I could ask one of my most important questions, “Did you have anyone miss practice today?”
It may have been a very odd question to ask—not being on the dance team—but it was worth asking.
With raised eyebrows, they shook their heads.
“Actually no, everyone was here today for practice,” said one blonde cheerleader. “Why?”
The air between us was uncomfortable now. I had asked the wrong type of question too soon.
“Double damn,” I said to myself. I thought I had found something, and they probably wouldn’t answer me now.
“Oh, nothing,” I said to the cheerleaders. “I was just trying to acquire some new information.”
Being as sly as I was, I didn’t want to let it slip that I thought someone in this room happened to be the killer of the New Musko. Even the smallest slip could ruin my entire mystery.
Both women seemed puzzled and uninterested in the topic. They started to call for the dancers to come back. I had ruined my chances of getting more clues from them. It just so happened that I had also run out of time because the break was already over.
I needed to try to get this last question answered. If I didn’t get it now the rumors would take control, and I would never find the killer.
“I have one last question for you both: Do you know anyone with a vendetta against the new Musko?”
With the hustle and bustle of the dancers coming in for the second half of their practice, I could barely hear the two young ladies. Focusing all my attention on them I could hear their final statement.
In shock they started to shake their heads, “None of us had the chance to see him yet. He is going to be reviewed later if you want to ask him yourself.”
Those are the final words I received from both of them as they pranced over to the rest of the dance team.
After asking more people around the gym, I was surprised with all of their answers. Everyone in the cheerleading squad said the same thing as those girls. None of them had seen the New Musko yet. No one even knew what he looked like.
Even with tricky questions I could not get a single person to slip up. They all had no clue what was going on.
The interesting thing was that they were framed. It couldn’t be anyone in this gym because none of them knew that the new Musko had been murdered because someone had planted the strand from the cheerleaders’ pom-poms.
With this in mind, I had to go back to base one. I had to find more clues. I needed real clues.
Scrolling through the pictures on my camera once again, I noticed that something was missing. Something, besides Musko being completely ripped to shreads, was wrong with this photo. I kept looking, each photo told the same tale. I had to get back to the scene of the crime.
To be
continued …