Things That Go Bump In The Night

Tolter

28-01-2007 15:50:08

The fridge door creeked open, awaking the no one but the light sleepers, though there were only about two of them in the entire tower. The man reached into the fridge and pulled out a black, oval cake, made by the local pastry chef, Devani. She had spent hours and hours working on that for the big feast that was being planned. The monsterous fiend ate the whole cake in one bite. The hand reached back in for seconds. Out came an entire lamb, slaughtered by Dismal on a lightsaber training field, the poor kid has no aim. The lamb was devoured in an instant. The thief had become thirsty, it took out all fifty cans of beer that had been saved for the feast. Down they went, one at a time. A few more items too gruesome to be identified went down the throat of the thief. It closed the fridge door and began to walk away. It's blood-alcohol limit was almost as high as anyone could withstand, especially Quaestor Quejo (QQ as some called him), who went on a drinking rampage almost every night. The man stumbled around the entire kitchen, slamming into everything immaginable, even a life size portrait of Aabs, and blowing chunks all over the face of the Clan's beloved Consul. The drunk thief took time to laugh at his accomplishment, then went about his journey to the exit door, a journey that would take at least another hour, hour and a half at this rate.

Breakfast rolled around and the chef team entered the kitchen horrified. Plates lay on the ground, shattered. Fifty empty beer cans lay, some smashed, some not. Bones from the lamb spelled out what looked to be Ikhdtfos. Of course that had some significance, but no one knew what. The portrait of Aabsdu, covered with vomit, though one chef found that quite funny, needless to say, that chef was never seen nor heard of again. The crew began panicing, knowing that if Consul Aabsdu did not recieve his breakfast at three o'clock in the morning, there would be hell to pay. The head chef, Julius Caesar, called in the cleaning crew (scrubs as they were called) to take care of the mess. Luckily, Aabs eats so much food for breakfast, that the crew needed to be up by twelve to begin cooking. They took what they needed for breakfast, and headed towards a room where they could not be surrounded by vomit, bones and plates. The chef team reached the room, and layed a huge pan on the ground. They cracked a total of eight hundred eggs into the pan, equivalent of Consul Aabs's IQ. The team took their lightsabers and ignited them, holding them over the pan to try and create some sort of heat for the eggs to cook. Twenty minutes went by, then thirty. It was time to flip the eggs, but by this time, they had all came together to form one gigantic yellow... thing. Caesar knew of one way for the eggs to be flipped. They needed a volunteer to stand in the hot pan, and flip the eggs over. This person would have to have the cleanest feet of the group. And that person, was none other than Laigerick Sithelhood. Caesar grabbed him and threw him into the pan, yelling orders for him to flip the huge, yellow.... thing. It took more than ten minutes for it to be completely flipped. "Good job Laig, you will be recieving a Legion of the Retarted for your willingness to do that." Caesar joked, but it was quite true, he would be recieving a Legion of the Retarted for many of the things he has done. They ignited their saber's again, while Laig sat in the corner crying, and peeling the dead skin from his feet. The eggs were finished, only thing left was ketchup (Aab's thought it looked like blood so he put it on everything to make him look more Consul-like). They were forced to keep a stash of ketchup in the hidden vault under the Dark Tower, accesable only to the chefs. Caesar sent one of his Apprentices down to the vault with the password, and waited patiently for him to return. He returned, with nothing but sweaty armpits and a drenched shirt.

"Where the hell is my ketchup?!" boomed Caesar at the Apprentice.

"Sir. The-The-The. Vault. Was.... Broken-Broken into.. The Ketchup ... is-is-is... gone.." replied the Apprentice.

"Da-Da-Da-Da-Da-Amn" replied Caesar, mocking the Apprentice's stuttering problem. He turned away from the Apprentice, and began to think. He felt that the Apprentice was smirking, and quickly grabbed his lightsaber and turned around so quick that the Apprentice was still making the face. He pointed the weapon right at the eye of the Journeyman. "Not a wise move... Don't mess with me now! I'de be happy to kill you, and use your blood as the ketchup for Aabs's eggs." He began to think for a second. "Ehh might as well, he would'nt be able to taste the difference." he said as he sliced at the shoulders of the Apprentice, cutting him right in half. He picked one half of the body up and held it over the pan, spilling the Apprentice's blood on the eggs. He took the other half, and drained the blood into a bottle, incase Aabs wanted more.

At last. Breakfast was prepared. Twelve at night to two fourty in the morning.

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"Mmmm. These eggs are delicious. Best I've had in a long time. Well done, well done. And this ketchup, superb!" exclaimed Aabs.

"Thank you sir. We had to improvise a little bit."

"What do you mean Caesar?"

"Well sir, last night, someone broke into the kitchen and raided the fridge. We walked into the kitchen this morning to bones from a lamb that spelled out Ikhdtfos."

"Not Ikhdtfos" interupted the Consul.

"Yes sir. There were shattered plates... And, worst of all. The thief, well, he blew chunks all over your portrait."

"WHAT!?!?!?!?!?!" yelled the Consul, waking up the entire planet. "Caesar, you find me the theif that did this, and you do it before dinner tonight, do you hear me?! I want this pig on my dinner plate, with an apple in its mouth, and its hands and arms tied together.

"Yes sir, right away sir." He exited the room, and ran towards the kitchen, to collect evidence. He thought he would start at the Ikhdtfos spelled in bones.

He began thinking of someone that was stupid, someone who doesn't know how to spell. He immediatly began thinking of Dismal. Could it be that easy? Could one of the clan's most moronic people be guilty of one of the worst crimes known to the clan? On the rule book each member is given at their entry into the clan, rule number three specificaly states "No one shall release any bodily fluids on a portrait of any high authority." Dismal was never one to break rules, so why would he have done such a horrid thing?

The next person that came to mind, was none other than Aabsdu himself. Caesar knew Aabs has been eyeing both the lamb and the cake for some time now. But the beer? Not likely. Plus, he knew Aabs only drank pure vodka. It must have been Aabs. No one else could have done it. No one could have kept the clan sleeping unless they had huge 'go to sleep, and stay asleep' powers, which Aabs had mastered the previous year. What about the bones? Aabs must have put them in that order to confuse the investigator. Caesar figured it out. The letters were an acronym. "I kicked him down the flight of stairs" Only refering to what had happened last week when the Proconsul mysteriously fell down the stairs, badly bruising his face. It was solved. Aabs raided the fridge, Aabs layed the bones in an order that would mean something he did, Aabs drank the beer, Aabs vomited on his own face. Call it a perfect crime.

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"Consul, I found the thief." exclaimed Caesar.

"Good, where is the rat, I wan't him on my platter tonight!"

"Well sir, it was you. You raided the fridge last night, very well knowing the time we get up in the morning for your breakfast. You used your Consul-like powers to keep us all asleep, you ate the caked Devani made, you ate the lamb, and lay the bones in an order that stood for "I kicked him down the flight of stairs" refering to Orz mysteriously falling down last week. You drank the beer, and last of all, you vomited on your face...."

"Well well well Caesar. Very well. You figured it out. You figured it out. I didn't think you would. Well I guess you cannot live now." his eyes began glaring red.

Caesar almost urinated when he heard that dreaded line. He saw the eyes of the Consul glow furiously.

"Ahh I'm just messing with ya JC. Good work. Don't let it happen again you hear me?"