Was there a Miss Marple Anonymous meeting I could go to?
Gored of the Rings - “Are you sticking around for the Grand Opening?” “What Grand Opening? She waved her hand. “The mystery store next door.” I studied my fingernails in order to avoid her gaze. “I don’t think so. I sort of have things to do.” Ruth smiled at me. She smiled so seldom that I took a step back. “What?” “’Things to do’? Those things wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain artist and the axe in his face?” I put my hand down and studied my shoes. “No. Of course not.” “Okay, girl. Play it that way. I won’t rat you out. Holy crap, what the hell is that?” I turned around to see what had gotten Ruth’s attention. I watched through the window as two topless women with enormous breasts walked past on the sidewalk, each holding signs with Moo! written on them. “Not more naked people,” Ruth moaned. “I’m sick and tired of naked people. Have you noticed that this town attracts crazies? We had a long hiatus there for a while, but axes, alligators, sex dolls, and boobs have infiltrated Cannes. We’re back to crazy town, Gladie.” “You forgot about Robinson Bucks,” I said. “You’re right. Here. Take a second piece of cream cheese coffee cake. I think we’re going to need more fortification these days.” I took the free cake, but I no longer craved enormous quantities of food, for some reason. Gathering my to-go cup and cake, I left Tea Time to visit Lucy. Outside, a crowd had gathered around the topless women, who were standing in front of the mystery store. A velvet curtain hung between them, hiding the store, itself. I assumed it would be removed for the Grand Opening. The crowd waited for the big reveal, their appetites whetted—I assumed—by the topless women reveal. I didn’t want to wait for the Grand Opening of Moo!, but the crowd had boxed my car in, and I was stuck. The topless women started to sing “Old Macdonald had a Farm,” and when they got to the moo-moo part, the curtains opened. “What is it?” I heard someone ask in the crowd. The front of the store was all pane glass windows and a sign above it said, “Moo!” And the O’s in the sign looked like boobs. I got curious, too. Lots of shops had tried to open next to Tea Time, but never a boob shop. If that’s what it was. The door opened, and a tiny woman in a fitted lavender suit and gobs of makeup came out. She adjusted her hair-sprayed brown hair and cleared her throat. She reminded me of Effie Trinket in The Hunger Games. “What is four-hundred-times the price of crude oil?” she called to the crowd. “Plutonium!” someone answered. “God!” another guessed. “My Aunt Fanny’s macaroni and cheese!” another ventured, and there was a roar of laughter from the crowd. “Wrong!” the woman called out at the top of her voice. “Breast milk. That’s right. Breast milk. Breast milk is not just for babies, anymore.” Oh, geez. If this was going where I thought it was going, Spencer was definitely going to blame me for the influx of weird into his beloved town. The crowd’s laughter had stopped suddenly after the woman’s comment about breast milk. “What did that woman say?” I heard someone in the crowd ask after a minute. “I think my hearing aid is on the blink,” someone else commented. “These days, breast milk is fortifying the greatest athletes of our time,” the woman continued. There were a few ew’s and gross’s uttered in the group, but it was mostly stunned silence around me. I wondered what the mayor was going to think about this. If he was against U.S. currency because it led to chicken crime, I couldn’t imagine what his take on breast milk for sale would be. On second thought, the mayor was a man, so he would probably be all in, concerning women with enormous hooters. “Breast milk has all your necessary nutrition, and it’s delicious,” the woman continued with her sales pitch. “And it comes in a designer package.” The big-boobed women posed, jutting their jugs out for everyone to see. Not that anyone could miss them. “I don’t know how to feel about this,” I heard a familiar voice say. I turned to find Bridget standing behind me. She pushed her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. “I feel like supporting women in however they want to use their bodies.” Bridget was the sweetest person I had ever known. She had a huge heart, and when she wasn’t bookkeeping or taking care of her son, she was trying to get justice for one cause or another. I gave her a hug. “It’s a quandary,” I agreed. “Please come in for our Grand Opening,” the little Hunger Games woman called out. “We’re offering free samples for our first-time customers.” There was a long, awkward silence from the crowd. All heads turned from the left to the right, like they were watching a tennis match, but I assumed they were all watching to see who among them would dare get a free sample. Then, as if an alarm went off, the crowd surged forward toward the break milk store. Bridget rocked from side to side, but stayed next to me. “On one hand, I should support a woman-run business,” she told me. “On the other hand…” “On the other hand, ew gross?” I finished for her. “I’m on my way to see Lucy. Do you want to go with me?” “I’m going to stay here for a little while and determine if I need to get my sandwich board out of the trunk of my car and protest.” With the crowd now in Moo!, I could finally reach my car. Taking a deep breath, I opened the car door and reminded myself what I intended to do. As far as I was concerned, Pablo Cohn had been murdered. And I was bound and determined to find out who did it. Finally after three years, I was back on the case.
~~~
As soon as I saw the series title, I figured it was going to be cozy mysteries...but the more, I read, I had to think it was a new genre just for this series. Because I soon realized that these books were just Crazy (Fun) mysteries! Seriously, for someone like myself who has limited response to humor as it is often used, I found I was unable to ignore the constant bombardment of silly, sometimes outlandish things being discussed or requested from clients so that I soon was covered with enjoyment--and it was because of the Gladie Hex which the author surely placed on this particular series...LOL
So, here's the first example... "Hands Up," The chicken yelled! So our main character, Gladie Burger, was in line waiting for her turn with the pharmacist, when a chicken came to rob the pharmacy. Everybody started to talk, worrying about getting their own meds. Soon even the mayor attempted to speak... And that's when Gladie got involved... You see the mayor was not well liked... And Gladie immediately wondered if the chicken might kill him and then she could work to solve whodunit... Yes, Goldie was the amateur detective in this series, but you might call her somewhat of a fanatic, because they've had a dry spell of murders in town and she had started to crave lots of food as a substitute, like many do...
The chicken wiped at his mask with the back of his wing. It was a very dry day, and I bet he was broiling in his costume. I chuckled at the thought of the chicken broiling...
In fact, it seemed like Gladie had many thoughts that seemed to be cruel or "darkly funny?." But all the chicken wanted was drugs... But Gladie was almost positive she knew who wore that costume for another job other than theft!???
In the meantime, Zelda, Gladie's grandmother, who was a professional matchmaker, had decided to expand that business into wedding coordinating and decided Gladie could handle that part of the business. Gladie knew she hadn't a clue how to do that, especially when her first client came to call... The wedding involved an axe room, the couple riding to the wedding on a longhorn bull and wound up with a murder during the reception...Didn't I say this was a crazy mystery?! Because, of course, people did get murdered... Which leads me to the final main character--the police chief, Spencer... Who is a "hunk." that every woman in town swoons over... especially his wife, Gladie...
But, sadly, the alligator, who is an endangered species, is not thrilled to have Spencer trying to prevent him from roaming everywhere to find something good to eat...which happened to be apple pies... Yeah, that kind of crazy...
***
Slay Misty For Me
“Hey, Fred. Have you seen The Invisible Brain?” I asked him. “He didn’t show up, and the crowd thinks it’s because the robot vacuums got him and took him to the aliens after getting a message in dictionaries that were funded by drugs in coffins,” he said. “At least that’s what I heard.” “You can’t cure stupid,” Ruth commented and waved her Louisville Slugger at someone who tried to get into Tea Time. “The chief told me to come down here for crowd control, but there’s too much crowd to control. It’s worse than the Walley’s after-Easter chocolate sale,” Fred moaned. “Walley’s has an after-Easter chocolate sale?” I asked. “When is that, exactly?” Ruth gave me a pointed look, and I turned away from her. “I called Remington to help, but he was still at the autopsy when I called,” Fred continued, forgetting about the chocolate sale. “What autopsy?” I asked. “Misty’s autopsy?” “Yep, but I’m not allowed to tell you. The chief says I’ll have to do the graveyard shift for a month if I mention it to you,” Fred says. “That’s good, Fred. You stick to your guns,” Lucy told him. “Which part didn’t he want Gladie to know about?” “The part about the marshmallows,” Fred said. “He doesn’t want the Underwear Girl to know that the victim didn’t have any marshmallows in her stomach.” “You mean she didn’t actually eat the marshmallows?” Lucy asked Fred. “The tox results said she had an allergic reaction to gelatin, but it looks like she didn’t eat them, so she didn’t commit suicide. The gelatin got into her system some other way.” “So, the marshmallows were there for show?” I asked. “Huh?” he asked and blinked at me as if he had forgotten that I was there. “I think so. I heard something about the killer making it look like she killed herself with marshmallows. I’m allergic to mold, so I’m afraid of blue cheese dressing.” “Everyone, I heard that Walley’s has some robot vacuums in stock!” someone from the crowd yelled. “Let’s get ‘em!” someone else yelled. “Uh-oh,” Fred said. “I wonder if I have to stop them.” There was a police siren, and then the police department showed up en masse. “Finally,” Ruth grumbled. “I pay taxes, you know. I shouldn’t have to defend my property with a baseball bat.” Visibly relieved to have backup, Fred returned to the crowd. “That fink Spencer lied to me,” I complained to Lucy. “He told me flat out that Misty committed suicide. But the marshmallows were for show. No wonder her mouth was crammed with them. Nobody eats marshmallows like that. The killer stuffed her mouth with them to put me off track. She was murdered; she didn’t kill herself. At least that’s probably what happened.” Lucy gave my back a little rub. “Of course Misty was murdered, darlin’. You don’t stumble on suicides. You stumble on murders. You’re a murder magnet, remember. So, let’s get a move on and find out whodunit.”
Gladie was working on final touches for the next wedding which was to be held in the local funeral home. No, that was only a small part of the strange details... It would be a small wedding. The groom was handling all of the arrangements. The bride was to show up for the wedding, having not talked to, seen, or done anything else other than agreeing to marry the man. Then when the groom showed up with a cape, Gladie wasn't sure exactly what might happen! Other than we do know that a murder took place that night...
Seriously, the weirdness of conspiracy theories was wild, along with so many crazy events that just kept happening, that readers will consider the murders as a minor "part" in the overall humor of this crazy series. In fact, I can't even remember whodunit, but I sure remember all of the strange people who are living in this small town where, it seems, weird people seem to find their way to Cannes, California, where a couple thousand people live...You can bet I'll not be one of them...LOL
All I can say is that, I did keep reading straight through... Was it the unbelievable crazy things that occurred on each page...You bet... I can read a good mystery any time, but finding a crazy cozy mystery? That's a very unique experience... One that I enjoyed for, one time only... But, remember, I'm not a fan of humor for the sake of humor... Like I said, Gladie Hexed me... for this double duo of madness... Unbelievable!
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