#40: The Case of the Missing Twix
Status: Solved
The Shut-Ins’ roommate Angela is not one for sweets. Favoring a diet of soymilk and baby carrots, she normally eats from the food pyramid’s fibrous bottom. On occasion, however, she indulges in a sugary treat. Such was the case several weeks ago when she brought home a king-size Twix. When she went to eat it, however, she discovered that someone had already torn into it, leaving one measly piece.
“Which one of you m——-f——-s got into my food again?” she demanded.
“Not me,” Peter replied. While Peter had, in fact, eaten all of Angela’s frozen mochi, mistaking it for Hot Pockets, he did not care for candy-cookie hybrids such as the Twix in question. “Too confusing.”
Jenny affirmed her innocence on the same grounds, and the cousins shot each other knowing looks. The truth was this wasn’t a mystery at all: they were lying. Peter and Jenny had destroyed the candy bar the previous night trying to create bio-diesel. Peter had been sure that they could create a renewable fuel source, but the only products of the experiment had been a first-degree burn, some fairly predictable gas pain, and now, it seemed, a tongue-lashing from their roommate.
The cousins blinked at one other in panic, each hoping the other would think of something to say. After what seemed like an eternity, Jenny came up with a response. “Peter left the kitchen window open this afternoon,” she blurted out. “I think it’s obvious that the downstairs neighbors reached in and snatched it.”
If Angela knew this was a lie, she was too tired for confrontation. She trudged off to buy a replacement and went straight to bed. But the Shut-Ins couldn’t help themselves, and within an hour they’d sacrificed the new Twix to science as well. This time it was an experiment to see if they still disliked Twix, and they concluded that it’s not so bad. They considered waking Angela to share their findings, but decided not to push their luck.
#41: The Case of the Misplaced Bonbon,
or Who the Hell Left a Used
Butterscotch in the Kitchen?
Status: Suspended
Being pet-owners and indifferent housekeepers, the Shut-Ins are used to finding unpleasant surprises around the house. Recently, however, they found something that dismayed them both: a used butterscotch placed carefully on the edge of the kitchen sink, as though the owner planned to retrieve it later.
“Well, that’s just disgusting,” Peter observed. “There are spit bubbles on it. Who would do such a thing?”
The detectives reviewed the possibilities. Because the perpetrator did not eat the entire butterscotch, he or she clearly possessed a measure of restraint. This ruled out the detectives themselves. Angela did not eat hard candies, and certainly did not leave spitty ones around the house.
The Shut-Ins were stumped. They considered doing a DNA analysis, until they realized that this would mean harvesting the spit, which was gross. They also realized they did not have any idea how DNA analysis actually worked, but feared it might involve swabbing things. At this point the cousins decided they’d spent far too much time thinking about the butterscotch already, and decided to do what they did every time they found an unpleasant surprise around the house: blame the cat, and leave the mess for Angela to dispose of when she got home from work.