Title: "Clue: Slash Detective"
Author: dash_x_marshall
Rating: Lust & Lunacy
Pairing: Yes, Lots!
Summary: My first 'Slashed Movie'!  The 1985 movie "Clue", based on the popular board game...Slashed.  Starring: Placebo, David Bowie, Madonna, and many others!  Fairly long, be warned.
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    David's car pulled up in front of the massive house.  He got out, and proceeded to the door, pausing only to wipe dog shit off of his shoe.  He was really going to have to do something about those damn mutts...
    Entering the house, his ears were immediately assaulted by loud pop music.  It would be that wretched maid again, pretending she had singing talent.  Pressing his hands to his ears, David crossed the hall to the library, and pushed open the door.
    "Britney!" He called out.  "Stop that racket at once!"
    "Alright, alright." She replied, shutting off the CD player.
    David approached her, and couldn't help but stare momentarily at Britney's massively inflated mammories, which were highly visible due to the cut of her maid's outfit.  Not only were the tops of her breasts showing, almost to the nipple, but her skirt was also cut so short one could almost, but not quite see her ass without bending over.  *Whore.* David thought.  *Is there anything she won't do?*
    "Is everything ready?" He asked.
    "I guess." She replied, half-heartedly.
    "You have your, err... instructions?"
    For a moment she paused, screwing her face up in concentration.  "Yeah." She finally replied.
    *As long as you remember them, you silly tart.* He thought.  David turned away from her, and headed out of the room.  He walked down the hall, and into the kitchen, to check on the cook's progress.  He found her watching some damn soap opera, while she sharpened a large butcher knife.
    "Is everything all right, Miss Cho?" David asked.
    She turned towards him, barely missing his face with the knife.
    "Watch it with that thing, will you?!" David said.
    "Shut it, Bowie!" She snapped.  "The food's just been delivered.  I put it on your credit card."
    "You what?!" David exploded.
    "I told you; I don't cook food, I eat it."
    "Then why the hell are you in here sharpening knives?" He demanded.
    "I'm exercising." She said.  "Though I don't know why I bother, no matter how thin you get, your boyfriend is never happy."  She dropped her voice to a low pitch.  "Damn, honey, don't you think you oughta check out that Atkins Diet?"  Her voice returned to normal.  "Atkins this, asshole!" She said, slashing the knife through the air.
    "Whatever." David replied, stepping back slightly.
    "I'll have dinner unpacked, and into the serving dishes by 7:30." She said, flatly.
    Just then, the doorbell rang.
    David headed off to answer it.  Opening the door, David found himself standing before a bald man, who was wearing sunglasses.  The man finished making kissing noises at the dogs, and turned to face David.
    "Good evening." David greeted the man.
    "Good evening." The man said in return.  "I didn't know if-"
    "Yes, indeed, you are expected, Colonel." David cut him off.
    The man looked confused.  "What?"
    "May I take your coat?  It is Colonel Mustard, isn't it?" David said.
    "No, that's not my name." The man said, sounding annoyed.  "I-"
    "Forgive me, sir." David said, interrupting again.  "But tonight, you may well feel obliged to my employer for the use of an alias."
    "Your employer?" The man said, still sounding confused.  "You mean the record label?"
    David ignored the question.  "This way, Colonel." He said, gesturing the man forward.
    "Okay..." Frank said, sounding resigned.  "And what the hell am I supposed to call you?"
    "I'm Wadsworth, sir.  The butler." David replied.
    "Right..." Frank said, wondering what kind of drugs Bowie was on.  It was obviously some pretty wild shit.
    David led Frank to the library, where Britney was busy pouring drinks.
    "Britney, would you attend to the Colonel." David called to her.  "Give him anything he requires."
    Britney fluttered her eyes at Frank.
    "But only if he asks for it." David added, before leaving the room.
    "Oh, Wadsworth, I was..." Frank began, turning around.  "Where the fuck's the door?" He said, feeling for a handle among the books.
    The doorbell rang again, and David hurried to answer.
    As he pulled open the door, he was confronted by the sight of a blonde woman, dressed in a black suit and hat, with a fishnet veil over her face.
    "Do come in, madam." David said.  "You are expected."
    "Do you know who I am?" She asked, pompously.
    "Only that you are to be known as Mrs. White." David replied.
    "What kind of a crappy name is that?" She said, annoyed.  "If I'd known you were gonna label me 'Mrs. White', I would've worn a white outfit.  Oh well, fuck it."
    David led her across to the library, and pushed open the door.  There was a muffled 'Shit!' from behind the door.
    "Mrs. White, this is Britney, the maid." David began.  "I see you know each other..." He continued, as the two women Frenched, without so much as a 'hello'.
    "Hello." Frank said, coming out from behind the door.  He glared at David, as he wiped champagne off his leather jacket.
    *What rotten, pissing luck.* Brian thought.
    Here he was, on his way to a party, and his car had broken down.  As if that wasn't enough, it looked very much as if it was about to storm.
    Brian threw a hateful look at the car.  He had no idea what was wrong, or how to fix it.  *Useless bloody machine!*
    Just then, he spotted another car coming his way.  *Score!*
    He leaned over the car, pretending to be examining the engine.  As he heard the other car getting closer, he raised one smooth, slender leg into the air.  It had the desired effect, as the other car screeched to a halt.
    "Want a lift?" The driver asked, in a husky voice.
    "Yes, please." Brian replied, in a sultry one.
    He opened the passenger door, and slipped into the seat.
    "Stef!" Brian shouted happily, recognizing the driver.
    "Bri!" Stef replied.  "What the hell are you doing out here, all dressed up?"
    "I'm late for a dinner date." Brian said.
    "Really?  Me too.  Where are you going?"
    "Let's see." Brian said, consulting a piece of paper.  "Hill House, off Route 41."
    "Wait a minute, let me look at that." Stef said, snatching the paper from Brian.  "That's where I'm going.  I got a letter like this."
    "Weird..." Brian said.  "I wonder why we weren't invited as a group?"
    "Dunno." Stef replied, putting the car into drive again.
    "And this is Mrs. Peacock." David said, introducing the new arrival.
    P.J. threw a bewildered look around at the others.
    Frank made a circling motion around his ear with one finger, by way of indicating to her that David had apparently lost his mind.
    "Britney, would you go and check that dinner will be ready as soon as all the guests have arrived." David said.
    As she exited the room, the doorbell rang yet again.  David headed down the hall to the door.
    Reaching the door, he pulled it open.  There stood a long haired man in an overcoat.  The dog was growling at the man, from its doghouse.  The man growled back, and the dog retreated further into its hole.
    The man turned to David.  "Is this the address to meet Mr. Boddy?"
    "Oh, you must be Mr. Green." David said.
    "Yeah, whatever." The man replied, heading into the house.
    "It should be just off there." Brian said, fighting with the road map.
    "Brian!  Damn it!" Stef yelled.  "Get that thing out of my face!  It's hard enough to see where I'm driving with all this rain."
    Stef slammed on the brakes, just in time to avoid hitting a large iron gate.  He waited a moment, while Brian wrestled the uncooperative map back into the glove compartment.
    "That must be it." Brian breathed, gazing out at the huge house in front of them.  A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the creepy looking place.
    "Why are you holding onto my arm so tight?" Stef asked.  "I need it to drive with."
    "I'm frightened." Brian said.  "Whatta ya say we just turn around?"
    "No." Stef replied, flatly.  He wrenched his arm out of Brian's grip, and drove on.
    Stef parked the car as near to the front door as he could, which wasn't very.  He threw open his door, and opened his umbrella.  Stef, being the gentleman that he was, walked around to the passenger side so that he could offer Brian protection from the rain.
    Unfortunately, Brian had locked the car door.
    Stef knocked on the window.  "Come on, Bri!"
    "No!" Brian shouted.  "There must be water an inch deep out there!  My shoes will be ruined!  And this place gives me the creeps!"
    Stef sighed.  "I'm going in, Bri!  You can either come with me, or stay out here all by yourself!"
    "How do you know I won't drive off and leave you here?!" Brian demanded.
    By way of answering, Stef held up his car keys.
    "You're so mean!" Brian said.  After pouting for a few seconds, Brian gave up and got out of the car.
    They hurried up to the porch, Brian complaining all the way.
    "What a swanky place." Brian commented, squeezing Stef's ass with one hand.
    The front door swung open behind them.
    "Professor Plum and Miss Scarlet." David said.  "I didn't realize you were acquainted."
    They turned around, wearing puzzled looks.
    "David?"  Brian said, sounding worried.  "What have you been smoking?"
    "And do you have anymore?" Stef added.
    David ignored their questions, and led them inside.
    They followed him into the house, and across to the library, where the other guests were assembled.
    "May I present Professor Plum and Miss Scarlet." David said, announcing the latest arrivals.
    "Steve?" Brian said in surprise.
    "Mr. Green, if you please." David muttered in Brian's ear.
    There was an exchange of polite smiles and waves among the guests.
    "Of course, since you've each been addressed by a pseudonym, you'll have realized that nobody here is being addressed by their real name." David ejected into the silence.
    There was a general muttering to the effect of how stupid that was.
    Just then, they all received a terrible fright as Miss Cho yelled; "Yo!  Ya food's gettin' cold!"
    Steve was so startled, he accidentally slopped some of his champagne down P.J.'s front.
    "I'm so sorry." He said.  He pulled out his handkerchief and proceeded to clean up the mess, albeit rather slowly.
    David led the group across the hall to the dining room.
    "You'll find your names beside your places." David said to them, as they entered the dining room.  "Please be seated."
    "Is this place for you?" Frank asked, gesturing to the head of the table.
    "Oh, indeed, no sir." David said.  "I'm merely a humble butler."
    The guests all flashed David odd looks.
    "What exactly do you do, then?" Frank asked.
    "I buttle, sir." David replied.
    "What the hell does that mean?"
    "The butler is head of the kitchen and dining room.  I keep everything tidy.  That's all."
    "Riiight..." Frank said, slowly.
    "Well, what's all this about, butler?" P.J. asked.  "This whole dinner party thing..."
    "'Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and die.'" David replied.
    "Die?" Stef said.
    "Merely quoting, sir, from Alfred Lord Tennyson" David explained.
    "I prefer Kipling, myself." Frank said.  "'The female of the species is more deadly than the male.'  Do you like Kipling, Miss Scarlet?"
    "Sure, I'll eat anything." Brian replied, in a sultry voice.
    "Shark's fin soup, madam." Britney said, entering from the kitchen with a tray.
    "So is this for our host?" Frank asked, gesturing to the vacant chair.
    "No, sir," David replied.  "For the seventh guest, Mr. Boddy."
    "I thought Mr. Boddy was our host." Madonna mentioned.
    "So did I." The others said, in unison.
    "So, who is our host, Mr. Wadsworth?" Madonna continued.
    David made a tiny noise of humor, but otherwise did not answer.
    "I want to start while it's still hot." Stef said.
    "Oh now, shouldn't we wait for the other guest?" P.J. suggested.
    "I'll keep something warm for him." Britney said.
    "I'll bet." Brian muttered.
    Stef began slurping his soup, loudly.  A second later, Madonna began slurping her soup louder still.
    Brian and Steve eyed them both with a look of disbelief.
    "So, does anyone know why we're here?" P.J. asked the table.
    "Not a clue." Frank said.
    "Well," Madonna said.  "One thing's for sure; we all know each other.  So what's with this fake name crap?"
    "I don't know." Steve muttered.
    "Is anybody else worried that David's lost his fucking marbles?" Brian asked, in a loud whisper.
    Brian let out a small squeak, as the door swung open at that moment, and David re-entered the room.
    "So, what does your latest boyfriend do?" P.J. asked Madonna.
    "Nothing." She replied, a little too quickly.
    "Nothing?"  P.J. said.  "You dumped him already?"
    "No..." Madonna said, nervously.  "Well, he just lies around on his back all day..."
    "Sounds like hard work to me." Brian commented.
    A sudden, loud clap of thunder erupted outside, just as Miss Cho yelled at Britney; "Watch it, bitch!"
    Startled by the noise, Steve accidentally knocked his soup spoon out of the bowl; flicking drops of soup at Brian.
    "Oh, I'm sorry..." Steve said, slightly embarrassed.  He dabbed at Brian's chest with his napkin.
    "Don't be..." Brian replied, looking thoroughly delighted.
    Britney began serving the main course.
    "Mmm." Madonna said, after a few bites.  "This is one of my favorite recipes."
    "I know, madam." David replied.
    Frank picked at his food for a few minutes, then decided against consuming it.  "Look...  Wadsworth, where is our host and why have we all been invited here?" He asked, getting impatient.
    Just then, the doorbell rang again.  Ignoring the question, David walked past Frank, to get the door.
    "Ah, good evening, you are eagerly awaited." They heard David say to someone in the hall.
    "Are you lockin' me in, fucker?" A man's voice replied.  "I'll take the key..."
    "Over my dead body, sir." David said.
    There was the sound of approaching footsteps, then David re-entered the dining room.
    "Ladies, Gentlemen, and Ladyboy." David addressed them.  "May I present Mr. Boddy."
    They turned to face the last guest, and several of them made rude noises and hand gestures.
    "What the fuck are these freaks doin' here?!" Fred Durst demanded.
    "Eating dinner." David replied.  "Do sit down, Mr. Boddy."
    "Yeah, Right." Said Fred.  He walked to the head of the table, but remained standing, a look of disgust on his face.
    "Nah, you can take that away, honey." Fred told Britney, as she approached him with a bowl of soup.
    "Okay," P.J. said.  "What the hell is this all about?"
    "Well," David began.  "I believe we all received a letter."  He drew a piece of paper out of his pocket.  "My letter says, 'It will be to your advantage to be present on this date, because a Mr. Boddy will bring to an end a certain long-standing, confidential, and painful financial liability.'  It is signed 'A friend'."
    "That's not what my letter said!" Steve erupted.  "Mine just said there was free booze if I played along..."
    "Ours just said we were invited to some exclusive party." Brian said, looking across at Stef, who nodded in agreement.
    "I also received a letter." Fred stated.  "No, thanks, Britney.  I'm not about to eat with these losers." He waved away the plate of food she had tried to offer him.  Fred ran his hand up Britney's skirt.  "But maybe we could go out for burgers later..."  She smiled indulgently at him.
    "Big spender." Madonna muttered under her breath.
    "Forgive my curiosity, Mr. Boddy." David said, trying to return to the subject at hand.  "But did your letter say anything similar?"
    "No." Fred replied, quickly.
    "I see." David said.  "Can I interest any of you in fruit, or dessert?"
    No one responded.
    "In that case, may I suggest we adjourn to the study, for coffee and brandy." David said.  "At which point, I believe our unknown host will reveal his intentions."
    A few moments later, they all filed into the study behind David.
    "There's nobody here." Steve said, sounding slightly pissed off.
    "Please help yourself to brandy, and be seated." David said.  He headed over to the desk, and picked up an envelope.
    "Mind if I smoke?" Brian asked, of no one in particular.  Nobody made any objection, not that he would have allowed that to stop him, anyway.  Brian offered a cigarette to Frank, who declined.  Stef, however, accepted, and provided a light for them both.
    The group sat in silence for a few moments, as David went through the contents of the envelope.
    "Ladies and gentlemen, I'm instructed to explain what you all have in common with each other." David began.  "Unless you would care to do the honors, Mr. Boddy?"
    "Why me?" Fred asked.  "What the fuck do I know about it?"
    "Not much, I expect..." David muttered.
    "This whole thing is a load of shit!" Fred exclaimed.  "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm getting out of here."  With that, Fred made for the door.
    "I'm sorry, sir." David called after him.  "You can not leave this house!"  Fred ignored him, and continued out of the room.  David dropped the papers he was holding, and gave chase.
    "How you gonna stop me?" Fred asked, as the others followed him into the hallway.
    "There's no way out." David stated, as Fred tried the front door.  "All the windows have bars, all the doors are locked."
    "This is fucked off!" Fred shouted.  "You can't just keep us here!"
    There was a murmur of support from the others.  Fred was a dick head, but he did have a point.
    "Ladies and gentlemen, please return to the study." David said, calmingly.  "Everything will be explained.  You too, Mr. Boddy."
    "I don't like U2, either!" Fred said, running down the hall.
    David followed after him.
    Fred ran into the conservatory, and looked around for an object with which to break the windows.  He spotted a flower pot, and picked it up.
    "You can't get out that way." David announced, as he saw what Fred was up to.
    "Why not?" Fred laughed.  "It's only glass!"
    He threw the flower pot with all his might.  It smashed into the glass, rebounded, and hit him squarely in the face.  Fred stumbled backward, swearing loudly.
    "Told you." David said, smugly.  "Unbreakable glass."
    David lead the slightly dazed Fred back to the study, where Britney was passing out brandys to everyone.  David shoved Fred into a chair by the door, and returned to the desk.
    "Ladies and gentlemen, you all have one thing in common-" David began.
    "Besides us all being famous?" Brian asked, interrupting David.
    "Yes." David replied.  "You are all being blackmailed."
    The statement hung in the air for several seconds.  The silence was only broken by Steve's belching.
    "For some time now, all of you have been paying all you can afford and much more than you care to afford, to someone who threatens to expose you." David continued.  "And none of you know who's blackmailing you, do you?"
    "What the hell are you talking about?" P.J. asked.  "Nobody's blackmailing me.  How could they?  I've never done anything wrong.  Well, nothing I'm really ashamed of anyway."
    David consulted the sheets of paper in his hand.  "Oh." He said.  "Yes.  Well, I'm sorry...  Your name's not in here..."
    She gave him an incredulous look.
    There was nothing but silence from the others.
    "Very well..." David said, trying to recover himself.  "As all of the rest of us are in the same boat, there's no harm in my revealing some details.  And my instructions are to do so.  Thank you, Britney."  He motioned for her to leave, and she did so.
    "Don't you think you might spare us this humiliation." Madonna said.
    "I'm sorry." David said, unconvincingly.
    "Professor Plum." David began, addressing Stef.  "You are the bass player for Placebo, correct?"
    "Of course." Stef replied.  "You know that.  Everybody knows that."
    "And you are a homosexual, are you not?" David continued.
    "Yes." Stef said, stiffly.  "Everybody knows that, too."
    "Then," David said, with the air of someone about to drop a bombshell.  "It might surprise some of those gathered here tonight, to hear that, not six months ago, you had a short but passionate affair with a certain female vocalist."
    Brian gasped.  Steve coughed.  The others raised their eyebrows.
    "It- It's not true!" Stef gibbered.  "It's a lie!  I swear!"
    "Well, I'm willing to believe you." Madonna said.  "I, too, am being blackmailed for something I didn't do."
    "Me too." Steve said.
    "And me." Frank put in.
    "Not me." Brian said, smiling.
    "You're not being blackmailed?" Steve asked.
    "Nope." Brian said.  "Come on, beanie, what could I have possibly done that I wouldn't want people to know about?"
    David read from the paper again.  "So, you're denying that you've slept with a succession of eight year old boys over the past-"
    "What?!!" Brian screamed, in outrage.
    "-Oh, no, wait...  That's Michael Jackson."  David flipped through more pieces of paper.  "How did that get in here?
    "Mrs. White," David began again.  "You've been paying our friend the blackmailer ever since your most recent boyfriend disappeared without a trace."
    "I had nothing to do with that." Madonna said, calmly.
    "Then why are you paying the blackmailer?" Frank asked.
    "I don't want a scandal, do I?" Madonna said.  "Well, not that kind of scandal anyway...  And what are you being blackmailed for, Colonel?"
    Frank coughed nervously.
    "He's recently developed an addiction to a rather embarrassing form of animated porn." David supplied.
    Several of the others gave him looks of shock.
    Frank placed his head in his hands.  "I know, I know." He said.  "Rock stars are supposed to have proper addictions..."
    At that point, Steve abruptly stood up from the sofa, where he had been seated beside Stef.
    "I have something to say." He said.  "I'm not going to wait for David here to unmask me.  I'm the drummer for Placebo, and I'm straight.  But..." He trailed off.  "The blackmailer has photos of...  Of Brian and myself in...  A compromising situation."
    "What?!" Stef said.  "You guys never said-!"
    Steve pointed an accusing finger at Brian.  "You took advantage of me, while I was passed out.  That's the only explanation!"
    "I never-!" Brian began.
    And suddenly all words were lost, as the room erupted into a shouting match.
    "Please, please!" David said, after a few moments.  "If everyone would simply calm down."
    "Well," Stef said, after things had quieted down.  "That just leaves Mr. Boddy."
    "What's your little secret?" Brian asked, clearly itching to know what the blackmailer had on Fred.
    "His secret?" David said.  "Oh, haven't you guessed?  He's the one who's blackmailing you all."
    There was a deadly silence.  Everyone turned to look at Fred, who tried his best to glare at them, but it was all too clear that he was afraid.
    "Now," David said, drawing attention back to himself.  "All of you hate this disgusting little rat..." And David's voice became suddenly malevolent.  "There's only one way to properly, and permanently, deal with this sort of vermin.  And I have a few presents for you all, that will aid in the task..."
    David produced a case from behind the desk, and opened it to reveal six black boxes.  David passed the boxes out to the guests, one by one.
    "Open 'em." David said, simply.
    "Why not?" Brian said.  "I enjoy getting presents from famous men."
    Brian unwrapped his 'present'.  "A candlestick?" He said, puzzled.  "What's this for?"
    Madonna opened hers, and produced a rope; already tied in a noose.
    Steve withdrew a thick lead pipe from his box.
    Frank opened his, and discovered it contained a wrench.
    "What the hell are these?" Brian asked David.  "Masturbatory aids?"
    Stef opened his package, and withdrew a revolver, just as P.J. pulled a dagger out of hers.
    Brian swallowed, audibly, after spotting the gun.  "Definitely not the stuff fantasies are made of..."
    "In your hands, you each have a lethal weapon." David said.
    "I'd rather have Mel Gibson in my hand..." Brian said.
    "If we were to turn Mr. Boddy over to the police, all the secrets he knows would become public knowledge." David explained.  "And the way things work in this country, he'd never receive any real punishment for his crimes.
    "But," He added, eyeing Fred.  "If one of you kills him now, no one but the seven of us will ever know..."  David strolled casually over to the study door, and shut it.  "The only way to insure he never bothers any of you ever again, is for one of you to kill Fred Durst...  Now." He said, and switched off the lights.
    In the utter darkness, there was a thump...  Another thump...  A grunt...  And a gunshot! 
    Brian screamed.
    P.J. switched the lights back on, and gasped, dropping the dagger.
    Fred lay face down, in the middle of the floor.
    Everyone rushed over to examine the body, but Stef was first to reach him.
    "Stand back!" Stef shouted.  "Give him air!  Let me see..." Stef checked Fred for signs of life.  "He's dead!" Stef pronounced.
    "Who had the gun?!" P.J. asked.
    "I did." Stef replied.
    "Then you shot him!" P.J. said.
    "I didn't!" Stef protested.
    "Well, you had the gun, if you didn't shoot him, who did?!" P.J. demanded.
    Stef flipped Fred onto his back.  "Nobody!" He said.  "Look, there's no gunshot wound!  Somebody tried to grab the gun from me in the dark, and the gun went off!" Stef explained.  "Look!  The bullet broke that vase on the mantel!"
    "He's absolutely right, look there's a bullet hole here in the wall." Frank said, examining it.
    "How did he die?" Steve demanded.
    "I don't know!" Stef shouted, heading back over to the body.
    "Well, one of us must have killed him!" Madonna said.
    "Well, I didn't do it!" Steve said, laying the pipe on the table.
    "Oh, God, I need a drink..." P.J. said.  She spotted Fred's brandy glass, and grabbed it, finishing it in one go.
    "Maybe he was poisoned!" Stef shouted suddenly, pointing at the glass in P.J.'s hand.
    P.J. started screaming hysterically.  Steve went over and grabbed her by the arms, leading her to the nearest sofa.
    "Calm down, P.J., it's alright." Steve said.  "Sit down, sit down, P.J...."
    Steve slapped P.J., and she stopped screaming.
    The others gaped at Steve, momentarily.
    "I...  Had to stop her from screaming..." Steve said.
    "Was the brandy poisoned?" Frank demanded.
    "Looks like we'll never know." Brian stated.
    "Unless...  Unless she dies too." Steve said.
    The others all rushed over to stare at P.J., who sat, dazed, on the sofa.
    A sudden scream from elsewhere in the house drew their attention away from her.  They rushed out of the study, and down the hall, to the door from which the screams seemed to be emminating.
    Frank tried the door.  "It's locked!" He said.  He pounded on it. "Open up!"
    "It must be the murder!" Stef reasoned.
    "Why would he scream?" Steve asked.
    "He must have a victim in there." Madonna said.  "Oh, my God, Britney!"
    "Oh, my God!" Stef said, loudly.
    "Oh, just let the bitch die!" Brian called from behind them.
    Just then, the door opened, and the group spilled in.
    "You're alive!" David said, relieved.
    "No thanks to you!" Britney shouted.
    "What do you mean?" David asked.
    "You locked me up with a murderer, you idiot!" She spat.
    "So the murderer is in this room?" Madonna said.
    "Yes!" Britney said.
    "But where?" Steve demanded.
    "Where?  Here!" Britney yelled.  "We're all looking at him or her...  It's what Madonna said in the study; one of you is the killer!"
    "How did you know we said that?!" Stef demanded.
    "I was listening!" Britney explained.
    "You eavesdropping little tart!" Brian said.
    "But why where you screaming in here, all by yourself?" Madonna asked, gently.
    "Because I'm frightened, I drank some of that nasty brandy too!" Britney said.  "I can't stay in here, by myself." She continued, sobbing.
    "Come back to the study with us." Madonna said, taking Britney by the hand.
    "With the murderer?" Britney asked.
    "There is safety in numbers, my dear." Frank said, waving the wrench in her face.
    The group made their way back to the study.
    "Is there no indication of how he died?" Steve asked, as they re-entered the room.
    "No." Stef said.
    "This is terrible." David said.  "This is absolutely terrible!  It's not what I'd intended.  Oh, my God!"  He sat down heavily.
    "Not what you intended?" Madonna said.  "What the fuck did you think was going to happen?!"
    "I just wanted to scare the little shit." David explained.  "I didn't think any of you would actually kill him..."
    "Don't know this group very well, do you?" Brian said.
    "So you invited us here?" Stef asked.  "And you gave me a loaded gun?!"
    "Yes." David replied.  "Well, no.  The gun wasn't supposed to be loaded...  But, this whole evening was my idea..."
    "I didn't know you had anything in particular against Durst." Madonna said.  "I think you had better explain."
    "Please sit down, everyone." David said, walking back to the desk.
    The others seated themselves, all except Steve who remained standing.
    "I was driven to this...  This, madness..." David explained.  "After my wife decided to leave me..."
    A few of the others gasped.
    "When was this?" Brian said.
    "Just a few days ago." David admitted.  "You are all, no doubt, aware that my supposed bisexuality was nothing more than a load of shit...  I never slept with another man..."  He hesitated.  "That is...  Until I met Brian."
    There were more intakes of breath at this statement.  The loudest of them from Steve and Stef.  Brian's cheeks flushed slightly.
    "He was...  He is beautiful..." David continued.  "Who could blame me?  It was merely a one-time thing...  I swore to my wife, however, that nothing happened...  I don't know that she would have been overly bothered, had I simply admitted it..."
    David sighed, deeply.  "But, somehow, Durst obtained evidence of my fling with Brian.  He demanded money, in return for his silence.  At first, I paid, but he kept asking for more and more.  I finally told him where to shove it.
    "And so, he turned his evidence over to my wife..." David blinked back tears.  "I think it was the fact that I had lied to her, that mattered more than anything...  We were on our way to patching things up, though she was still suspicious, when Durst arranged for my wife to see what appeared to be me having a rendezvous with another little ladyboy.  It wasn't me, of course, and I tried to explain...  But, she would have none of it.  She decided she could no longer trust me, and so...  She left."
    His explanation finished, David broke down in tears.  Brian went over to him, handing him a tissue, and embracing him.
    "So," Stef said, lighting up again.  "Everything is explained."
    "Nothing's explained!" Madonna burst out.  "We still down know who killed him."
    "The point is, we have to find out in the next thirty-nine minutes, before the police arrive." David said.
    "What?!" P.J. screamed.  "You never said anything about the police being on their way!"
    "Well, I wasn't expecting anyone to actually kill Fred, was I?!" David shot back.  "I thought we'd frighten the little bastard, and then have him arrested!"
    "But, how can we possibly find out which of you did it?" Steve said.
    "What do you mean 'which of you did it'?!" Stef demanded.
    "Well I didn't do it!" Steve shouted back.
    "Well, one of us did." David said.  "We all had the opportunity, we all had a motive..."
    "Great!" Brian said.  "We'll all go to prison."
    "Maybe it wasn't one of us." Stef suggested.
    "Well who else could it have been?" Frank asked.
    "Who else is in the house?" Stef asked.
    David and Britney looked at each other.  "Only the cook." They said in unison.
    "The cook!" Everyone shouted.
    They rushed out of the study, down the hall, and to the kitchen.  Upon arriving, they crept slowly into the room.  Being more adventurous, Steve ventured farther into the room than the others.  He walked around the island, and all the way over to the freezer.
    "Well," He said.  "She's not here."
    The freezer door began to creak open.  Brian screamed wildly, as the cook's body fell out of the freezer; a dagger protruding from her back.  Steve caught her body as it fell towards him.
    "I didn't do it!" Steve yelled.  "Somebody help me, please.  Somebody help me, please!" Steve said, as he began to collapse under the cook's weight.
    Brian rushed over, but couldn't actually bring himself to touch the body, and so Steve finally had to let the cook's body simply fall to the floor.  The others slowly gathered around.
    "I think you better explain yourself, David." Frank said.
    "Me," David replied.  "Why me?"
    "Who would wanna kill the cook?" Steve asked.
    "Dinner wasn't that bad." Brian said.
    "How can you make jokes at a time like this?!" Frank demanded.
    "It's my defense machinism." Brian retorted.
    "Some defense," Frank said.  "If I was the killer, I would kill you next."
    Brian gaped at him.  "How can you say that to me?!" He demanded.
    Steve wrapped a protective arm around Brian, and glared at Frank.
    "I said 'if'." Frank said, trying to laugh it off.  "'If'.  Hey, come on, there is only one admitted killer here, and it is certainly not me, it is her!" He said, pointing at Madonna.
    "I've admitted nothing." Madonna said, coldly.
    "Well you paid the blackmail." Frank said, advancing on her.  "How many boyfriends have you had?"
    "Mine, or other women's?" Madonna asked.
    "Yours." Frank said.
    "Fifty-five."
    "Fifty-five?"
    "Yes just fifty-five, all the other men were one night stands." Madonna explained.  "Boyfriends should be like Tylenol; soft, strong, and consumable."
    "You lure men to their death, like a spider with flies!" Frank accused.
    "Flies are where men are most vulnerable."
    "Right." Frank said, then looked confused.  "Well if it wasn't you, then who was it?  Who had the dagger anyway?  It was you, P.J., wasn't it?!"
    "Yes." P.J. replied.  "But I put it down."
    "Where?" Stef asked.
    "In the study."
    "When?"
    "I don't know!  Before I fainted, after I fainted, I don't know." She said.  "But any of you could have picked it up."
    "Look," David said.  "I suggest we take the cook's body into the study."
    "Why?" Frank asked.
    "I like to keep the kitchen tidy." David explained.
    With a group effort, they hoisted the cook's body off the floor, and proceeded back to the study.  They were just entering the study, when Stef came to an abrupt stop.
    "Look!" He shouted, letting go of the cook's arm.  "The body's gone!"
    David let go of the cook's other arm in shock, and her face smacked into the floor.
    "What are you staring at?" P.J. asked.
    "Nothing." Steve said.
    "Well who's there?" She asked.
    "Nobody." Frank said.
    "What do you mean?" P.J. demanded.
    "Nobody." David said.  "No body, that's what we mean; Mr. Boddy's body, it's gone."
    "Maybe he wasn't dead?!" Madonna said.
    "He was." Stef insisted.
    "We should have made sure!" Madonna replied.
    "How?" P.J. asked.  "By strangling him, I suppose?"
    "That wasn't called for!"
    "Where is he?" Brian demanded.
    "We'd better look for him." David said.
    As Stef and David headed into the room, Frank and Steve gave up holding the cook's legs, and simply left her body in the door way.  They spread out to cover the room, but as it was a small room, it only took a few seconds to determine that Fred was definitely not there.
    "Well," Steve said.  "He couldn't have been dead."
    "He was." Stef said again.  "At least I thought he was.  But, what difference does it make now..."
    "Makes quite a difference to him." Brian said.
    "Maybe Mr. Boddy killed the cook!" Steve suggested, suddenly.
    "Yes!" Brian and Madonna said in unison.
    "How?" David asked.
    No one seemed able to come up with answer to that one.
    "No..." Steve muttered.
    "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to... uhm, err..." P.J. trailed off.  She turned to Britney.  "Is there a little girls' room in the hall?"
    "Yes." Britney replied, jerking her thumb over her shoulder towards the door.
    P.J. carefully stepped over the cook's body, and headed off in search of the restroom.
    Brian sauntered over to the desk, and started poking around in the envelope.  "What are these, David?" Brian asked, pulling out a string of negatives.
    "I'm afraid that is the evidence against Stef, to which I earlier referred." David explained.
    "Oh, my God!" Stef exclaimed.
    "Mmm." Brian said.  "Very pretty!  Would you like to see these, Britney, they might shock you."
    "No, thank you." Britney said, disdainfully.  "I'm a lady."
    Brian snorted.
    "What sort of pictures are they?" Steve said, becoming interested.
    "They are my pictures, and I'd like them back please!" Stef said, desperately.
    "Let me see!" Steve said, snatching the negatives out of Brian's hand.  "Oh my, nobody can get into that position!"
    "Sure they can!" Brian said, pushing Steve onto one of the sofas.  "Let me show you!"  He threw himself on top of the drummer.
    "Get off me!" Steve yelled.
    Suddenly, P.J.'s screams echoed down the hallway.  As everyone rushed for the door, Stef grabbed the negatives back from Brian.  He handed them to David, who placed them back on the desk.
    Emerging into the hall, they caught sight of P.J.; who appeared to be struggling against Fred.
    "It's Fred!" Stef yelled.
    "He's attacking her!" Steve shouted.
    Steve and Stef rushed to pull Fred off of her, but as they did so, they discovered his body to be quite limp; blood ran down his forehead from a large wound.  They laid him down on the floor.
    "No..." Madonna said.  "No, he's dead..."
    "Fred, dead." David said.  "Again."
    "Oh, my God..." P.J. said, fanning herself with her purse.
    "She's going to faint!" David said, getting up from the floor.
    "Somebody catch her!" Stef yelled.
    "I'll catch you." David said, positioning himself behind her.  "Fall into my arms."
    But she pitched forward, crashing into Brian, and sending them both to the ground.
    "Sorry..." David muttered.
    "You've got blood on your hands." Madonna said, looking at Steve.
    "I didn't do it!" Steve yelled, pulling out his handkerchief.
    "He's got new injuries!" David said, lifting Fred's arm, which promptly dropped back to the floor when he released it.  "Well he's certainly dead now." David pronounced.  "Why would anyone want to kill him twice?"
    "Pleasure?" Brian suggested.
    "Unless he wasn't dead before!" Steve said.
    "What's the difference?!" Stef asked.
    "That's what we're trying to find out!" David practically screamed at them.  "We're trying to find out who killed him, and where, and with what!"
    "There's no need to shout!" Stef shot back at him.
    "I'M NOT SHOUTING!" David yelled.  He paused for a moment.  "Alright, I am!" He continued.  "I'm shouting, I'm shouting, I'm shout-!"
    The candlestick -which had somehow found its way onto the ledge above the bathroom door- slipped off, due to the vibrations from David's raised voice, and hit him squarely on the head.  David dropped to the ground.
    A few minutes later, the group returned to the study.  Stef, Brian, and Madonna finished dragging the cook into the room, as Steve and Frank hauled in Fred's body.
    "Okay." Frank said.  "Put the corpses on the sofa."
    After a few moans of protest, they wrestled first the cook, and then Fred onto one of the sofas.
    "There's going to be a hell of a cleaning bill..." David muttered, an ice pack pressed to his head.
    "Now." Frank said.  "Who had access to the candlestick?"
    "All of us." Brian said.
    "It was given to you." Madonna pointed out.
    "Yeah, but I dropped it on the table." Brian explained.  "Anyone could have picked it up, you, HIM-"
    "Look." David interrupted.  "We still have all these weapons..." He began picking the remaining weapons up.  "The gun, the rope, the wrench, the lead pipe...  Let's put them all in this cupboard, and lock it.  There's a homicidal maniac about!"
    The others approved of this plan.
    "What are you doing with the key?" Steve demanded of David.
    "Putting it in my pocket." David replied, simply.
    "Why?" Steve demanded.
    "Well, to keep it safe, obviously." David explained.
    "That means that you can open it whenever you want!" P.J. shouted.
    "But it also means that you can't." David said.
    "But what if you're the murderer?!" P.J. insisted.
    "I'm not." David replied.
    "But what if you are?!" Frank said.
    "Well, it's got to be put somewhere!" David said.  "If I've got it, I know I'm safe."
    "We don't know that we are!" P.J. said, frantically.
    "I have an idea." David said, clapping his hands together.  "We'll throw it away!"  He rushed for the door.
    The others followed him, shouting encouragement for this latest plan.
    When David reached the door, he unlocked, and then opened it.  He was just at the point of hurling the key out into the rain, when spotted the man standing on the porch.
    "Sorry." David said to the man, who had just ducked to avoid being hit.  "Sorry...  Can we help?"
    "I didn't mean to disturb the whole household..." The man said.  "But, my car broke down out here, and I was wondering if I could use your phone..."
    "Just a moment, please." David said.
    David turned around, calling the others into a huddle.  They quickly discussed the pros and cons of turning the man away.
    After a moment, David turned back to the man and smiled.  "Very well, sir.  Would you care to come in?"
    The man did so.  "Well, where is it?" He asked.
    "What, the body?" David said.
    Brian slapped David on the back of the head.
    "The phone." The man replied.  "What body?"
    "There's no body.  Nobody." David said, quickly.  "There's nobody in the study."
    "No!" The others agreed, in unison.
    "But I think there's a phone in the lounge." David explained.
    "Thank you." The man said.
    David shut the front door, and led the man to the phone.
    "When you've finished your call," David said.  "Perhaps you'd be good enough to wait here."
    "Sure." The man replied.
    David left the man in the lounge, and locked the door behind himself.
    Just then, Frank gave David quite a scare, by laying a hand on his shoulder.  David turned around, giving a yell of fright as he did so.
    "Where's the key?" Frank asked.
    "In my pocket." David said, breathing heavily.
    "Not that key!" Stef said.  "The key to the cupboard, with the weapons."
    "Do you still wish me to throw it away?" David asked.
    "Yes!" They all yelled at him.
    David opened the front door once more, and tossed the key out into the darkness.
    "Well, what now?" David asked the others.
    "David, let me out!" Madonna demanded.
    "No." David replied, flatly.
    "Why not?" She asked.
    "We gotta know who did it." David explained.  "We're all in this together now."
    "If you leave, I'll say you killed them both!" P.J. spat.
    The others agreed with her sentiment.
    "Oh, David, I'll make you sorry you ever started this..." Madonna began, grabbing David's collar.  "One day, when we're alone together..."
    "Mrs. White." David said.  "No man in his right mind would be alone together with you."
    "Well, I could us a drink." Frank stated, heading for the study.
    The others voiced their agreement.
    "Just checking." Frank said, as he briefly poked his head into the study.
    "Everything all right?" P.J. asked.
    "Yep." Frank replied.  "Two corpses, everything's fine."
    They proceeded into the library, where Frank began pouring himself a drink.  "Anybody else want a whiskey?" He asked.
    The others replied in the affirmative.
    "Alright, look..." Frank began.  "Pay attention everybody.  David, am I right in thinking there is nobody else in this house?"
    "No." David replied.
    "Then there is someone else in this house." Frank said.
    "No, sorry," David said.  "I said 'no' meaning yes."
    "'No' meaning yes?" Frank asked.  "Look, I want a straight answer; is there someone else or isn't there, yes or no?"
    "Uhm, no." David replied.
    "No there is, or no there isn't?" Frank demanded.
    "Yes." David said.
    "Please!" Madonna screamed.  "Don't you think we should get that man out of the house, before he finds out what's been going on here?"
    "How can we throw him outside in this weather?" Brian asked, reasonably.
    Steve and Stef exchanged glances with one another.
    "If we let him stay in the house, he may get suspicious." Steve said.
    "If we throw him out, he may get even more suspicious." Brian insisted.
    "If I were him," Frank interjected.  "I'd be suspicious already."
    "Oh, who cares?!" P.J. said.  "That guy doesn't matter!  Let him stay, locked up for another half an hour!"  Her voice grew ever louder, as she continued.  "The Police will be here by then, and there are two dead bodies in the study!!"
    The others made frantic motions for her to be silent.
    "Well, there is still some confusion as to whether or not there's anybody else in this house." Frank said.
    "I told you there isn't." David said.
    "There isn't any confusion, or there isn't anybody else?"
    "Either!  Or both."
    "Just give me a clear answer!"
    "Certainly.  What was the question?"
    "Yes there anybody else in the house?!"
    "No!" Everyone shouted, in unison.
    "That's what he says..." Frank said.  "But does he know?  I suggest we split up, and search the house."
    "Split up?!" Brian asked, in a high-pitched voice.
    "Yes." Frank said.  "This place is huge, so we'll split up into pairs..."
    "Pairs?" Stef asked.
    "Yes."
    "Wait a minute." Stef said.  "Suppose that one of us is the murderer.  If we split up into pairs, which ever one of us is left with the killer, might get killed!"
    "Then we would have discovered who the murderer is!" Frank said, triumphantly.
    "But the other half of the pair would be dead!" Brian shouted.
    Steve went over to Brian, and slipped his arm around the smaller man's shoulders.  Brian buried his face in Steve's chest.
    "Are you willing to take that chance?" Steve asked of Frank.
    "What choice do we have?" Frank insisted.
    "None..." Madonna muttered.
    "I suppose you're right..." Steve said, after a moment.
    "But it's dark upstairs." Britney said.  "And I'm frightened of the dark, will anyone go with me?"
    "I will." Stef said.
    "I will." Madonna said.
    "No, thank you." Brian said, emphatically.
    "I suggest we all draw lots for partners." David said, grabbing a hand full of matchsticks from beside the fireplace.
    The group headed across to the kitchen, where David began cutting the matchsticks into different lengths.
    "Ready?" He asked them, when he was finished.  "The two shortest together, the next two shortest together...  Agreed?"
    They nodded.
    "And I suggest the two shortest search the cellar, and so on, up." David explained.
    "Right." Steve said, smiling.  "So Brian should search the cellar, and Stef should search the attic..." He chuckled.
    Brian hit Steve with his purse.
    They all began selecting their matchsticks, and comparing them.
    *Oh, please let me get Steve.* Brian thought, knowing he could count on Steve to protect him.
    Instead, Brian found himself paired with Frank.
    "Crap..." David muttered, as discovered his partner was to be Madonna.
    Steve gazed at Britney's chest, after matching his stick to hers.
    Stef held his extremely short matchstick up to P.J.'s.  "Looks like we're headed for the basement..." He said.
    "Oh, God..." P.J. muttered.
    The group trudged off on their respective journeys.  Stef and P.J. to the cellar, Brian and Frank to the first floor, David and Madonna to the second floor, Steve and Britney to the attic.
    "Well, we know what's in the study." Frank said.  "We've just come from the library, and the stranger's locked up in the lounge..."
    "Let's go look in the billiard room again." Brian suggested.
    "Do you want to go up in front of me?" Steve asked hopefully, as he and Britney reached the final flight of stairs leading to the attic.
    "Absolutely not." She replied.
    "I'm sure there's no one up there." Steve said.
    "Then you go in front." She said.
    "Alright." Steve said, but made no move to do so.
    "Well, ladies first." Stef said, looking down the dark stairway.
    "No, no, you can go first..." P.J. offered.
    "No, no, no, no, I insist." Stef said.
    "No, I insist." P.J. replied.
    They both looked down the flight of stairs again.
    "Crap..." Stef muttered.
    "Are you going in there?" David asked, as he and Madonna each stood in front of two separate doors.
    "Yes," She replied.  "Are you?"
    "Yes." He said.
    There was a pause of several seconds, as they stared at each other, nervously.
    "Right." David said.
    "Right." She replied.
    "Uhm, I don't see any light switches in there..." David said.
    "Well, neither do I, but there must be switches... somewhere..." She said.
    "Shall I come in with you?" He asked.
    "No!" She shouted.  "I mean...  No, thank you."
    They both headed into their respective rooms.
    "Ladies first." Frank said, as he and Brian finished checking behind the bar in the billiard room.
    "No, thanks." Brian said.
    They both made for the small opening at the same time.  The opening was barely large enough for an average person to fit through.  And although Brian was a fair bit smaller than average, Frank was not, and they soon found themselves stuck.
    Brian grabbed at the bar, trying to pull himself free, but was unsuccessful.  "Well, this is embarrassing..." He said.  Brian could feel Frank's hot breath on the back of his neck, and he shivered.
    "The view's not so bad, though..." Frank said, quietly.
    Brian swallowed.  Another shiver ran through his small frame, as Frank let his finger tips graze Brian's bare shoulder.  With tantalizing gentleness, Frank's fingers slid up the back of Brian's neck, and into his hair.  Brian's eyes started to roll back into his head.
    "Your wrench is digging into my hip..." Brian said, after a moment.
    Frank's only reply was to latch his mouth onto the side of Brian's neck, and begin sucking, forcefully.  Brian moaned.  After a few more seconds of sucking, Frank pulled his mouth away from Brian's neck.  He gently blew on the moistened area, causing Brian to shiver yet again.
    "We really should be getting on with it..." Brian said, somewhat reluctantly.
    "I thought we were..." Frank said.
    Brian laughed, softly.  "I meant we should get un-stuck."
    "You're probably right." Frank said.
    With a renewed effort, they attempted to pull themselves free.  It was slow going, but finally they were slipping out of the tight spot.  When they at last broke loose, Brian staggered, nearly falling on his face.  Frank caught the smaller man by the wrist.
    As Brian steadied himself, Frank walked over and picked up a billiard cue from the rack.  Brian backed away, fearing that Frank had murderous intent.  But, Frank merely motioned, with the cue, towards the billiard table.  Brian took the hint, and bent himself over the table...
    "Go on." Britney said.  "I'll be right behind you."
    "That's why I'm nervous." Steve lied, while he tried to think of some convincing reason to get her to go first.  Nothing came to mind.
    "Then we'll go together." She suggested.
    After a moment, Steve nodded.  *Shit.* He thought.  *So much for getting to look up her skirt...*
    They began, awkwardly, to ascend the stairs.
    "What room is this?" Frank said, as he opened a door into a dark room.
    "Search me." Brian replied.
    "Already did..." Frank muttered.
    "Find anything?" Brian asked, cocking an eyebrow at Frank.
    "From the sound of it, I did." Frank replied.
    Brian smiled.  He gasped a moment later, as Frank suddenly flicked the light switch.
    "Nobody here." Frank observed, looking about the empty room.
    "Unless, they're behind one of those curtains..." Brian pointed out, nervously.
    "You look." Frank said.  "I'll search the kitchen."
    Brian scoffed, as Frank left the room.  *No substitute for Steve, that's for sure.* Brian thought.
    With great trepidation, Brian started forward.  About half way across the room, he let out a quiet squeak, as the curtains moved slightly.  Gathering all of his courage, Brian continued creeping forward.  He carefully stretched out a hand, and quickly drew the curtain back.  Brian heaved a sigh of relief, as he realized the cause of the curtain's movement was a small hole in the window pane.
    "I'm a little nervous." Robert said into the phone.  "I'm in this big house, and I've been locked into the lounge."
    Intent on his phone conversation, he didn't hear the slight noise generated by the room's fireplace swinging open behind him.  He also failed to see the person who exited it, and began creeping stealthily towards him.
    "Yes." Robert said into the receiver.  "The funny thing is, there's a whole group of people here, having some sort of party.  And two of them are my old band mates, from-"
    The heavy metal wrench connected solidly with Robert's skull, and he collapsed, dropping the phone.
    A gloved hand gently placed the receiver back on the hook.
    "Well, there was no one in the ballroom." Brian mentioned, as he and Frank entered the conservatory.  "Coward..." Brian added, under his breath.
    "Nobody in the kitchen either." Frank said, walking over to a set of shelves, which were mounted on the wall.  *That's interesting.* He thought.  *That's a nastier looking weapon than the one I got from David...*
    Gazing at the lethal looking sickle, Frank put out a hand, intent on leaning on the wall.  He let out a cry of surprise as the wall suddenly gave way, and he fell into the dark passage way beyond.
    Brian gasped.
    "Looks like a secret passage." Frank said, as he pulled himself back to his feet.
    "Those are always worth investigating." Brian said.  "Shall we see where it leads?"
    "What the hell..." Frank said, grabbing a flashlight from the shelves.  "I'll go first, I've had a good life..."
    They walked down the long, narrow, corridor.  Brian complained loudly, every time he ran into a cob web.
    Soon, they found the other end of the passage way, and discovered it lead into the lounge.
    "Oh, my God." Brian said, as they emerged from the fireplace, and were greeted by the sight of Robert's body.
    Just then, the fireplace swung shut on its own behind them.
    Realizing they were now trapped, Brian launched into a fit of hysterical screaming.  Brian and Frank both proceeded to bang loudly on the lounge door, which had been locked from the outside.
    As their shouts for help echoed through the house, the others came running.  Steve and David collided with one another on the second floor landing.  Picking themselves up, they continued down the stairs.  All the while, Brian and Frank's yelling grew louder.
    "Where's it coming from?!" David shouted.
    "Where are we going?!" Steve demanded, trying not to fall over David again.
    Stef and P.J. came running up from the cellar, to join the others.
    "Where are they?!" Madonna called out, as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
    "The lounge!" David said, pointing to the door, which was vibrating.
    "The door's locked!" Stef declared, as he reached it.
    "I know!" Steve said.
    "Well, unlock it!" Stef demanded.
    Steve turned to David.  "Where's the key?"
    David searched for a moment in his pocket, and came up empty.  "The key is gone!" He said.
    "Never mind about the key!" Stef shouted, hitting Steve with one hand.  "Unlock the door!"
    Steve grabbed Stef by the front of his shirt and shook him.  "I can't unlock the door without the key!!
    "Let us in!  Let us in!" Steve demanded, pulling on the door handles.
    "Let us out!  Let us out!" Brian and Frank cried, in unison.
    "It's no good, stand back!" David ordered.  "There's no alternative." He stepped quickly across the hall, to stand near the door to the study.  "I'm just gonna have to break it down!"
    With that, he ran back across the hall, and slammed his shoulder into the lounge door.  David impacted the door with a thud.  He let out a grunt of pain, and staggered backwards, collapsing to the floor.
    "I know!  I have it!" Britney suddenly called out.
    Britney ran into the study, as Brian's screams and Frank's shouts continued.
    "Will you shut up!" P.J. called to them, through the door.  "We're doing our best!"
    Britney emerged from the study, gun in hand.  She tripped over David, who was still lying on the floor, and a gunshot rang out.
    Steve and Stef let out a cry of surprise, and dropped to the floor.
    Madonna and P.J. screamed in panic, and collided with each other.
    "They're shooting at us!" Frank said, crouching low.
    Brian crouched lower still, and hid himself behind Frank.
    "Oh, please!" Stef said, as Britney got to her feet, and pointed the gun at the door; which he and Steve were still lying in front of.
    Britney took aim, and fired.  She fired again, blasting the lock apart.
    "I've been shot." Frank said, getting to his feet.  "I've been shot!"
    "Come out!  The door's open!" Britney yelled at them.
    As Frank and Brian emerged from the lounge, Steve and Stef scrambled away from Britney's line of fire.
    "Why are you shooting that thing at us?!" Frank demanded.
    "To get you out!" Britney explained.
    "You know, you could have killed us!" Frank yelled at her.  "I could have been killed!
    "I can't take anymore scares." Frank said.
    He then received a large one, as one of the massive chandeliers fell to the floor immediately behind him.  Frank staggered to a near by bench, and collapsed onto it.
    "But, look!" Brian shouted, pointing into the lounge, at Robert's body.
    The others clustered around, to see what the ladyboy was pointing at.
    "Which one of you did it?" P.J. asked.
    "We found him." Brian explained.  "Together!"
    "How did you get in?" Madonna asked.
    "The door was locked!" Steve said.
    "It's a great trick." Madonna commented.
    "There's a secret passage way from the conservatory." Brian told them.
    "Is that the same gun?" Stef asked Britney, urgently.
    "From the cupboard?" P.J. said.
    "But, it was locked." Stef said.
    "No, it was unlocked!" Britney said.
    "Unlocked?!" The others said, in unison.
    "Yes!  See for yourself!" Britney yelled, turning and running for the study.  She tossed the gun onto the floor, where it slid under the broken chandelier.
    The group ran across the hall, and into the study, where they discovered that the locked cupboard was indeed open.
    "How did you know it was unlocked?" P.J. demanded of Britney.  "How did you know you could get at the gun?"
    "I didn't!" Britney insisted.  "I thought I'd break it open, but it was open already."
    "A likely story." P.J. said.
    Any further accusations were forestalled by the front door bell, which suddenly rang, startling everyone.
    "Maybe they'll just go away..." Brian said, hopefully.
    They all waited in a tense silence for several seconds.  But, just as it seemed they might have gotten their wish, the door bell sounded again.
    "I'm going to open it." Steve stated, calmly.
    "Why?!" Brian screeched.
    "I have nothing to hide!" Steve explained.  "I didn't do it!"
    Steve stepped over to David.  "The key?" He asked.
    David dug around in his pocket, and handed the key to Steve.
    "Thank you." Steve said.
    The others followed Steve, as he made his way to the door.  Steve unlocked, and then opened the front door.  The sight that greeted their eyes was a pasty faced kid in a police uniform.
    "Yo!" Eminem said.  "What up, dawg?"
    Steve shut the door in his face.  Then re-opened it a moment later.
    "Yes?" Steve said.
    "Don't be dissin' me, homes!" Eminem said.  "Look, I found dis ditched car down close ta ya gate.  I wat wonderin' if da driver dropped by ya crib...?"
    "No, no... No." The others said, in unison.
    "Well, actually, yes." Steve said.
    "No!" The others said.
    "Y'all seem ta be dis'greein' on dat."
    "No, no... No." The others said.
    Steve nodded.  "Yes."
    Eminem looked confused.  "Can I use ya phone, dawg?"
    "Of course you may, sir." David said, pushing his way to the front of the group.  "You may use the one in the uhm, err...  No...  Ah, you could use the one in the stu-  No...  Uh, would you be kind enough to wait in the uhm, in the uhm, err- library..."
    "Phat..." Eminem muttered, nodding.
    He walked in, and immediately started staring at Britney.
    "Don't I know yous?" He asked her.
    She shrugged.
    "What up wit y'all?"
    "It's the chandelier, it fell down, almost killed us." David explained.  "Would you like to come this way, please, sir."
    David gestured him forward, towards the library.  As the two of them headed across the hall, Brian ran over and slammed the door to the study.  Eminem whirled around, startled.  A split second later, Stef shut the lounge door, causing Eminem to look in his direction.
    "Frightfully drafty, these old houses." David said.
    David led Eminem into the library, and gestured towards the phone.
    "Please help yourself to a drink, if you like." David said.  "Not the cognac, just in case..."
    "What ya talkin' 'bout dawg?" Eminem said, but David had already closed the door.
    David locked the library door, then turned to the others.  "What now?"
    There was a rattling sound, as Eminem tried the door.
    "We should have told him." Steve said.
    "Oh, very well for you to say that now..." P.J. muttered.
    "I said it then!" Steve shouted.
    "Oh, shut up!" The others yelled at him, in unison.
    "Let's clean this up." David said, gesturing to the remains of the chandelier.
    A few moments later, the phone suddenly rang.  Everyone listened intently, but there was no second ring.
    "Maybe the cop answered it..." David suggested.
    They all exchanged worried glances.
    "Let me outta here!" Eminem suddenly shouted, from behind the door.  "Ya got no rights to shut me in!  I'll book ya fa false arrest, and unrighteous 'prisonment, and obstructin' me in da course 'a ma duties, and murder!"
    David opened the door.  "What do you mean, murder?" He asked.
    "I's just sayin' dat, so's ya'd open da door."
    The others laughed, nervously.
    "What up 'round here?" Eminem asked.  "And why ya lockin' me in?  And why ya's gettin' rung up by Judy Dench?"
    "Judy Dench?" David asked, in disbelief.
    "Dat's right, homes, da head 'a MI6..."
    "Why is Judy Dench on your phone?" Frank asked.
    "I don't know." David said.  "She's on everybody else's, why shouldn't she be on mine?  Excuse me."  David walked into the library, and shut the door behind himself.
    "What's goin' on here?" Eminem asked, actually sounding serious this time.
    "Uh, we're having a party..." Brian explained, running his hands over Eminem's uniform.
    The others made affirmative noises.
    "Mind if I look 'round?" Eminem asked, eyeing Brian appreciatively.
    "Sure." Brian said.  "You can show him around, Mr. Green."
    "Me?" Steve asked.
    "Yes, uh...  You can show him the uh, dining room, the kitchen, the ballroom..." Brian said.
    "Fine!" Steve said, giving a huge, fake, smile.  "Fine..." Steve walked over, and put a hand on Eminem's shoulder, gripping it tightly.  "Come with me, officer.  Uhm, come with me...  I'll show you the dining room, or the kitchen, or the ballroom..."
    As Steve and Eminem headed off into the dining room, the others went back to the study.
    "Make it look convincing." Brian told them, after quickly explaining his plan.  "Come on." Brian said, grabbing Stef's hand, and leading him across the hall to the lounge.
    "What's goin' on in doz two rooms?" Eminem asked Steve.
    "Uh, which two rooms?" Steve asked, nervously.
    "Doz two rooms." Eminem said, as he walked back into the hall.  He pointed at the closed doors of the study and the lounge.
    "Oh, those two rooms..." Steve said, laughing.
    "Yes!"
    "Uh, well..." Steve dithered.
    Not waiting for an explanation, Eminem headed across the hall to the study.
    "Officer!" Steve said, getting in front of Eminem.  "I don't think you should go in there."
    "Why not?" Eminem demanded.
    "Ah..." Steve dithered, again.
    Eminem rushed past him.  Steve sprang forward, and blocked the door.
    "Because, it's all too shocking!" Steve said.
    Eminem pulled Steve out of the way, and opened the door to the study.  He flipped on the lights.
    Steve's mouth dropped open at the sight that greeted his eyes.
    Fred's body was draped over one of the sofas, with his legs hanging off the back.  Fred's pants were around his knees, as Madonna delivered a blow job.
    Over by the window, Frank appeared to be humping the cook.  Steve doubted Frank could support her weight by himself, however.  Presumably, P.J. was hiding just behind the curtain, offering assistance.
    "It's not all dat shockin'." Eminem said.  "Dees folks is just havin' a good time...  I been ta parties way freakier dan dis."
    Eminem headed out of the room, and across to the lounge.  Steve followed.  Both men were shocked when they entered the room.
    Brian was on all fours, moaning in ecstasy, as Stef thrust into him from behind.  Robert's body had been propped up in a chair, with his pants unzipped.  One of his hands had been wrapped around his flaccid cock.
    "Dat ain't right..." Eminem said, backing hurriedly out of the room, and nearly running Steve down in the process.
    Just as Steve and Eminem left the lounge, David emerged from the library, looking flustered.
    "Officer!" David said, smiling.
    "Ya too late, I seen it all." Eminem said.
    "You have?" David said.  "Uh, I can explain everything..."
    "Ya don't have too." Eminem replied.
    "I don't?" David asked, surprised.
    "Don't worry, dere's nothin' illegal 'bout any 'a dis!"
    "Are you sure?!" David said.
    "'A course, dis is America." Eminem explained.
    "I see..."
    "It's a free country.  Don't ya know dat?"
    "I didn't know it was that free..." David said.
    "Can I use ya phone, now, dawg?"
    "Certainly." David said, gesturing him back to the library.
    Eminem headed into the room, and David locked the door behind him.
    "Why did you lock him in again?" Steve asked.
    "We haven't finished searching the house, yet..." David said.
    "Well, we're running out of time, only fifteen minutes before the police come." Stef pointed out.
    "The police already came!" Steve hissed.
    "Shut up!" The others hissed back.
    "Let's get on with it." David said.
    The group once again split off into pairs, to continue their search.
    Brian and Frank wondered into the kitchen.
    "You wanna try the kitchen table now?" Frank asked, placing a hand on Brian's rear.
    Brian brushed his hand away.  "After you made me check the ballroom all by myself?  Forget it."
    They did a quick once over of the room.  Brian laughed when Frank pulled open a cabinet door, and was immediately showered by cookware.
    A few moments later, Brian strolled into the freezer, and began playing with the meat hooks.
    "Oh!" Brian shouted, as the back wall of the freezer swung open.  "Look!" He called to Frank.  "I can't believe it.  I wonder where this one goes..."
    "Well, let's find out." Frank said.
    The two of them squeezed down the passage way, and discovered that the opening at the other end was disguised as a large painting on the study wall.
    "Let's try the ballroom again." Frank suggested.
    "Oh, sure." Brian muttered.  "Now you wanna check the ballroom..."
    Stef lit a match, as all of the lights had suddenly gone out.
    In the darkness of the basement, P.J. backed into something.
    "Ah!" She yelled, turning and hitting at the presumed attacker.  "Don't you touch me!"
    "What're you-" Stef began.  "Oww!" He shouted, as the match burned his fingers.
    He shook the match and it went out, once again plunging the room into darkness.
    Britney hurried down stairs, in the darkness.  She crossed the hall, to the billiard room, and silently entered.
    "Shut the door." A voice whispered at her, from somewhere in the room.
    Britney obeyed the unseen speaker.
    "Did anyone recognize you?" The voice asked.
    "They must have." Britney whispered back.  "And not just my face, they know every inch of my body...  And they're not the only ones."
    "No kidding..." The voice said.
    And suddenly, a rope was thrown around Britney's neck.
    "It's you!" Britney gasped, just before the rope tightened.
    "Yo?" Eminem said quietly, into the receiver.  "Dere's sompin' freaky goin' on 'round 'ere...  I don't know what it is..."
    Behind him, the door silently opened.
    "Nah, dawg, I ain't smokin' nothin'." Eminem said.  "I tink I's in danger.  Ya know dat big, ugly, house on top 'a-" He broke off, as the line suddenly went dead.  "Yo?  Dawg?  Ya still dere?"
    The heavy impact of the lead pipe to the back of his skull silenced the wannabe forever.
    The door bell suddenly sounded again, giving everyone in the house a slight shock.
    Someone opened the door, to reveal a beautiful woman, wearing a red outfit.
    "Da-da-da-dat-da!" She began singing, while pulling off her outfit.  "I am your stripping telegram!"
    A single gunshot rang out, and she dropped to the ground.
    The unseen killer slammed the door.
    Somewhere on the second floor, Madonna began screaming.
    "I'm coming!" David shouted.  "I'm coming!  I'm just trying to find the door!"
    David groped blindly in the dark, and found a door handle.  He opened it, and proceeded through.
    "Coming!" He called out again.
    But, no sooner had he gone through the door, then he suddenly collided with something solid.
    "What's this?" David said, feeling around, and finding a knob.  "Another door?"
    He twisted the handle, and was promptly deluged by a spray of water.
    "Fuck!"
    Switching off the shower, and finding his way out of the room, David sloshed his way down stairs.  Reaching the breaker box, at the top of the basement stairs, David threw the master switch.  All over the house, the lights came back on.
    The group slowly reassembled on the first floor.
    They wondered over to the billiard room, where Britney was sprawled on the table.  From the way her dress was ruffled, it was clear the killer had had a bit of a peek afterward.  No one said anything, and after a moment, they all filed back into the hall.
    They then strolled into the library, where Eminem lay slumped across the drinks table.
    "Two murders." Steve said, simply.
    Stef walked past the others, to get a closer look.  He picked the lead pipe up off the floor.
    "Neither of them shot." Stef observed.  "I thought I heard a gun."
    "So did I." The others agreed.
    "I thought I heard the front door slam!" Brian piped up.
    "Oh God," Frank said.  "The murderer must have run out."
    They all rushed to the front door, and pulled it open.
    "Asia?" Brian said, looking at the body that lay on the porch.  Brian pressed a hand to his mouth, then buried his face in Steve's chest, sobbing.
    "Three murders." David said.
    "Six, all together." Steve said.
    "Six." They all agreed.
    "This is getting serious." David said.
    They shut the front door, and wondered, aimlessly, back into the hall.
    "No gun." David said, glancing at the remains of the chandelier.  "Britney dropped it here...  Very well, I know who did it."
    "You do?!" The others asked, in shock.
    "And furthermore, I'm going to tell you how it was all done." David stated.  "Follow me."
    David led them all across to the library.
    "In order to help you understand what happened, I shall need to take you through the events of the evening step by step." David explained.  "At the start of the evening, Britney was here by herself; waiting to offer you all a glass of champagne.
    "I was in the hall-" David continued, heading out of the library.  "I know, because I was there.  Then, I hurried across to the kitchen."
    David proceeded towards the kitchen at a run, and the others followed him.
    "And the cook was in here, sharpening knives -alive." David said, as they entered the kitchen.  "Preparing for dinner, and then-"
    David ran back into the hall, and the others gave chase.
    "The door bell rang!" David continued, sprinting down the hall to the front door.  "And it was you!" David said, pointing at Frank.
    "Yes." Frank agreed.
    "I asked you for your coat, and I recognized you as Colonel Mustard, and I prevented you from telling me your real name, because I didn't want any of you to use any name other than your pseudonym, and I introduced myself to you as the butler, and I ran across the hall to the library!" David explained, speaking so fast the others could barely understand him.
    David ran into the library.
    "And then Britney met you, and smiled." David said, giving an imitation of Britney's earlier smile and wink to Frank.  "And poured you a drink."
    David ran out of the library, and back to the front door.
    "And the door bell rang!" David continued.  "And it was Mrs. White, looking pale and tragic."
    Madonna glared at him.
    "And I took her coat, and hung it up!" David said.
    David ran back to the library.
    "And I introduced Mrs, White to Colonel Mustard; 'Hello.'  'Hello.'" David did an impression of Frank and Madonna.  "And I noticed that Mrs. White and Britney Frenched."
    "Difficult thing to miss..." Brian muttered.
    "Actually," Frank interjected.  "You didn't introduce me and Madonna to each other.  You hit me with the door, then I introduced myself."
    "Whatever." David said, refusing to let this detail break his stride.  "Then, there was a rumble of thunder, and crash of lightning."  David imitated a bolt of lightning with his hand.
    "And to make a long story short-"
    "Too late!" The others informed him.
    "One by one, you all arrived." David said, and rushed back into the hall.  "And then the cook yelled that dinner was ready.  And we went into the dining room!"
    He ran across to the dining room, the others followed.
    "And Mrs. Peacock sat here." David explained, standing behind the chair P.J. had occupied.  "And Professor Plum sat here."  David made a slurping sound.  "And Mrs. White sat here."  Another slurping noise.
    "And Mr. Green, Miss Scarlet, Colonel Mustard," He continued, pointing to each chair in turn.  "This chair was vacant."  He indicated the chair at the head of the table.
    "Anyway," David went on.  "We all revealed that we'd all received a letter.  And you'd had a letter, and you'd had a letter, and you'd had a letter, and you'd had-"
    "GET ON WITH IT!!" The others demanded.
    "The point is; blackmail." David said.
    "All this came out after dinner, in the study!" Steve said.
    "You're right!" David said, and rushed out of the dining room.
    They followed him across the hall, to the study.
    "Mr. Green stood here." David said, pointing to the small drinks table, in the corner.  "And Mrs. Peacock here, and Miss Scarlet here, and Professor Plum here, and Colonel Mustard, and Mrs, White-"
    "GET ON WITH IT!!!" They all shouted at him again.
    "I'm getting there, I'm getting there!" David insisted.  "And I gave you all your surprise packages.  And!"  David shut the door.  "You all opened your presents, I switched out the lights!"  He turned the lights off.
    Everyone screamed.
    The moment of darkness stretched out until, finally, P.J. found the switch.  She turned the lights back on.
    All of them were shocked to see David lying face down on the floor.
    David suddenly got up.  "Mr. Boddy lay on the floor, apparently dead." He said.
    "He was dead!" Stef insisted.  "I examined him!"
    "Then why was he bashed on the head with a candlestick a few minutes later, if he was dead already?" David shot back.
    "Alright!" Stef said.  "I made a mistake."
    "Right." David said.  "But, if so, why was Mr. Boddy pretending to be dead?  It could only be because he realized the gunshot was intended to kill him; and that at least one of you was really willing to commit murder..."
    David walked over to Fred's body.
    "Look!" David said, examining Fred.  "The bullet grazed his ear.  Clearly his best hope of escaping death, was to pretend to be dead already."
    "So, whoever grabbed the gun from me in the dark was trying to kill him..." Stef reasoned.
    "But remember what happened next..." David began.  "Mrs. Peacock took a drink, you said 'maybe it's poisoned', she screams-"  David launched into an imitation of P.J.'s earlier hysterics.
    David suddenly grabbed P.J., and directed her over to the sofa, where Steve had sat her earlier.
    "Mr. Green-" David said, and slapped P.J. across the face.  "'Well, I had to stop her screaming.'"
    P.J. gaped at David.
    Steve glared at him.
    "Then!" David shouted.  "More screaming!  Britney!  The billiard room!  We all rushed out!"
    They followed him to the billiard room, where Britney's body still lay.
    "But one of us wasn't here." David stated.  "No."
    "No?" They said.
    "No." David confirmed.  "Maybe one of us was murdering the cook.  Who wasn't here with us?"
    The others glanced nervously around at one another.
    "Do you know?" Steve asked.
    "I do!" David said.  "While we stood here-!"  He ran into the hall.  "Tried to stop Britney from panicking-!"  He ran back to the study.  "One of us could have stayed in the study, picked up the dagger-!"  He ran back into the hall.  "Run down the hall!"  He ran into the kitchen.  "And stabbed the cook!"
    "Oh, how could he risk it?" P.J. insisted.  "We might have seen him running back."
    "Not if they used this secret passage." David said, and he pushed open the concealed door at the back of the freezer.
    The others gasped.
    "And the murder ran back down the secret passage to the study." David explained, heading for the hall.
    "Is that where it comes out?!" Madonna asked, as they followed him.
    "Yes!" David shouted, entering the study.  "Look!"
    David pushed on the painting, and it swung open.
    The others gaped at him.
    "Wha-?" Frank said.  "How did you know?"
    "This house belongs to a friend of mine." David explained.  "You didn't think this was Fred's place, did you?"
    "So you could be the murderer." Steve said, flatly.
    "Don't be ridiculous." David said, laughing.  "If I was the murderer, why would I reveal to you how I did it?"
    Steve hesitated a moment.  "Well...  Who else knew about the secret passage?"
    "We found it." Brian said.  "Frank and me."
    "You found it!" Frank said.  "You could have known about it all the time."
    "But, I didn't!" Brian said.
    "Why should we believe you?" P.J. asked.
    "Because, he was with us all in the billiard room doorway, when Britney was screaming." David said.  "Don't you remember?"
    "But, what I don't understand is why was the cook murdered?" P.J. said.  "She had nothing to do with Mr. Boddy..."
    "Of course she did." David said.  "I gathered you all here, because you were all implicated in Mr. Boddy's dastardly blackmail.  Did none of you deduce that the others were involved too?"
    "What others?" Madonna asked.
    "The cook and Britney." David replied.
    "No!" They said, in unison.
    "That's how he got all his information." David explained.  "Before he could blackmail anyone, Mr. Boddy had to discover their guilty secret.  The cook and Britney were his accomplices."
    "I see." Frank said.  "So, whoever knew the cook was involved... killed her?"
    "Yes." David confirmed.  "I know, because I did an extensive investigation into Mr. Boddy's affairs, that the cook had given him evidence on one of you."
    "Who?" They all asked.
    "You were quite taken with Britney, weren't you?" David said, turning to Madonna.  "Don't deny it!"
    "What do you mean 'don't deny it', I'm not denying anything." Madonna said.
    "Another denial!" David shouted.
    Madonna blew a raspberry at him.  "Alright, it's true, I liked Britney.  She and I had lots of fun, until she started seeing some new guy...  But I didn't care, I wasn't jealous."  She gave a thoroughly unconvincing laugh.
    "You cared for Britney too, didn't you?" David asked of Stefan.
    P.J. gasped.
    Frank's mouth fell open.
    "I-I-I...  No.  Yes.  No!" Stef gibbered.  "You can't prove anything!" He burst out.
    "That's why you were so desperate to get your hands on those negatives, remember?" David said.
    "So, he had the motive." Madonna said.
    "You all had a motive." David said.
    "But, where and when was Mr. Boddy killed?" Steve asked.
    "Don't you see?" David said.  "Look!  We came back to the study, with Britney."  David grabbed Brian by the arm.  "Mr. Boddy was on the floor, pretending to be dead."  He shoved Brian down, onto the carpet.  "But one of us knows he's alive."  He pulled Brian up.
    "So," David went on.  "I explained to you all why I invited you all here, and we realized there was only one other person in the house."
    "The cook!" They all shouted, in unison.
    The group rushed out of the study, down the hall, and into the kitchen.
    Steve walked over to the freezer, where he had stood earlier.
    "Well, where the hell is he?" Steve demanded, as he realized David was missing.
    The freezer door creaked open.  Brian shrieked, as David pitched forward, out of the freezer.  Steve caught him, glared at him, and then let him drop.
    "By now, she was dead." David said, from his place on the floor.  "We laid her down, and turned our backs on the freezer.  One of us, slipped through the same secret passage-"
    "Again?" P.J. asked.
    "Of course." David said.  "Back to the study."
    David ran back to the study, and the others followed.
    "The murderer was in the secret passage." David continued.  "Meanwhile, Mr. Boddy lay on the floor."  David proceeded to trip Brian, sending him back to the floor.  "He jumped up."  David pulled Brian to his feet again.  "The murderer came out of the secret panel, picked up the candlestick."
    David chased Brian out into the hall with an imaginary weapon.
    "Mr. Boddy followed us out of the study, into the hall, looking for escape." David explained, advancing on Brian.
    Brian made a panicked noise, backing away from David.
    "The murder crept up behind him..." David continued, closing the gap between himself and Brian.  "And...  Killed him!"  David hit Brian, lightly, on the back of the head.
    "Will you stop that!" Brian screamed at David.
    "No!" David replied, grabbing Brian by the scruff of the neck.  "Then, he threw him into the toilet!" David proclaimed, demonstrating by tossing Brian into the bathroom.
    David closed the bathroom door behind Brian.
    "And nonchalantly rejoined us beside the cook's body in the kitchen, it took less than half a minute." David said.
    "So, who wasn't there the entire time in the kitchen?" Frank asked.
    "Whoever it was, is the murderer!" David said, running back to the study.
    Brian stepped out of the restroom, drying his hands.
    They all followed after David.
    "And we put the weapons in the cupboard, locked it, and ran to the front door!" David continued, turning around and running out of the study.
    The group rushed to the front door.
    "To throw away the key!" David said.  He opened the front door.  "The motorist." He said, pausing.  "I didn't throw the key away, I put it in my pocket.  And someone could have taken it out of my pocket, and substituted another!"
    "We were all in a huddle, any one of us could have done that." Stef said.
    "Precisely." David said, closing the front door.  "Lets look at the other murders..."
    "Yes, bad luck that that motorist arrived at that moment." Stef said.
    "It wasn't luck." David said, laughing.  "I invited him."
    "You did?!" The others said.
    "Of course, it's obvious." David replied.  "Everybody here tonight, was either Mr. Boddy's victim, or accomplice.  Everyone who has died, gave him vital information about one or more of you.  I got them here, so they could give evidence against him, and force him to confess."
    "Oh, yeah." Brian piped up.  "What about that motorist?  What kind of information did that wanker have?"
    "He happened to be at the sex shop I visited, when I..." Frank trailed off, his eyes down cast.
    "Was the policeman working for Mr. Boddy too?" P.J. asked.
    "That bastard caught me giving a blow job to a...  A certain...  Politician..." Brian admitted.
    P.J. gaped at him.
    "And, the stripping telegram girl...?" Steve asked.
    They opened the front door, and gazed at the body.
    "Asia was the one who..." Brian muttered.  "Who took the pictures of me and Steve."
    Steve looked at Brian, his face slack with shock.
    "It was just supposed to be a joke..." Brian said, his eyes glistening with tears.  "But, I decided not to show them to you...  She said she'd get rid of them..."
    "Well," David said, clapping his hands together.  "Let's put her in the study, with the others."
    Steve, Frank, and Stef hauled her body into the study, and dropped her, unceremoniously, on the floor.
    "So," David said, returning to the hall.  "Now you all know why they died.  Whoever killed Mr. Boddy, also wanted his accomplices dead."
    "How did the murderer know about them all...?" Stef asked, puzzled.  "I mean, I admit that I'd guessed that Britney informed on me to Mr. Boddy...  But I didn't know about any of you being blackmailed, until this evening..."
    "First, the murderer needed to get the weapons." David began.  "Easy.  He stole the key from my pocket.  And then, we all followed Colonel Mustard's suggestion that we split up and search the house..."
    "That's right, it was your suggestion." P.J. said, pointing an accusing finger at Frank.
    "And one of us got away from his or her partner, and hurried to the study." David said, as he walked back into the study himself.  "On the desk, was the envelope from Mr. Boddy.  It contained photographs and letters; the evidence of Mr. Boddy's network of informants."
    "Where is the envelope, now...?" Madonna asked.
    "Gone." David said.  "Destroyed.  Perhaps in the fire, the only possible place."  David fished around in the fireplace for a moment, and came up with a few fragments of paper.  "Aha!  Then, having found out the whole story, the murderer went to the cupboard, unlocked it with the key, took out the wrench-"
    "Then we found the secret passage from the conservatory to the lounge, where we found the motorist dead!" Brian supplied, running into the hall.
    "That's right!" David said, joining him.  "And we couldn't get in.  So Britney ran to the open cupboard, got the gun, and shot the door open!  Bang!  And then, the door bell rang."
    And then, the door bell did, indeed, ring.
    There were gasps and looks of astonishment from the group.
    "Oh, whoever it is they gotta go away, or they'll be killed!" P.J. burst out.
    She marched up to the door, and pulled it open.
    "Good evening." said the man on the other side.  "Have you ever given any thought to the kingdom of heaven?"
    "What?!" P.J. said.
    "Repent." The man said.  "The kingdom of heaven is at hand."
    "You don't know how right you are..." Brian muttered.
    "Armageddon is almost upon us." The man insisted.
    "I've got news for you; it's already here!" Stef told the man.
    "Go away!" P.J. said, ushering the man back.
    "But your souls are in danger!" The man said.
    "Our lives are in danger, you moron!" P.J. said, shutting the door in the man's face.
    "The cop arrived next!" David said, getting back into explanation mode.  "We locked him in the library!  We forgot that the cupboard with weapons was now unlocked, then we split up again!"  David ran towards the cellar door.  "And the murderer switched off the electricity!"  David threw the master switch on the breaker box, and the house once more plunged into darkness.
    "Oh my God!" Steve said.
    "Not again!" P.J. said.
    Madonna made a whimpering noise.
    "Turn on the lights!" Brian demanded.

    David switched the lights back on.
    "Sorry." David said.  "Didn't mean to frighten you."
    "You're a bit late for that!" Steve shouted.  "I hate when he does that."
    Madonna whimpered again.
    "Then there were three more murders." David said.
    "So which of us killed them?" Madonna asked.
    "None of us killed Mr. Boddy, or the cook." David said.
    "So who did?!" Steve and Madonna demanded.
    "The one person who wasn't with us." David replied.
    Everyone began eyeing everyone else suspiciously.
    "Britney." David said.
    "Britney?!" The others said.
    "She was listening to our conversation." David explained.  "She heard the gunshot, she thought he was dead.  And while we all examined the bullet hole, she crept into the study, picked up the dagger, ran to the kitchen, and stabbed the cook.  We didn't hear the cook scream, because Mrs. Peacock was screaming about the Poison brandy.  Then, Britney returned to the billiard room.  She screamed, and we all ran to her."
    "But when did she kill Mr. Boddy?" Frank demanded.
    "When I said." David replied.  "We all ran to the kitchen to see the cook, Britney hid in the study to check that Mr. Boddy was dead.  He got up, and followed us down the hall, so she hit him on the head with the candlestick, and dragged him to the toilet."
    "Why?!" Brian asked.
    "To create confusion." David said.
    "It worked..." P.J. said.
    The others nodded.
    "Why did she do it?!" Stef demanded.
    "Was it because she was acting under orders?" David said.  "From the person who later killed her."
    "Who?!" Stef shouted.
    "Who?" P.J. seconded the inquiry.
    "Who?" Brian asked.
    "Was it her new boy toy?" David asked, approaching Stef.  "Or was it a jealous wife?" He continued, eyeing Brian.  "Or a horny drummer?" He said, glancing at Steve.  "No.  It was her lesbian lover; Mrs. White!"
    "That's a lie!" Madonna spat.
    "Is it?!" David asked, turning back to the others.  "You used her the way you always used her.  You killed the motorist when we split up to search the house."
    "How could I have known about the secret passage?" Madonna demanded.
    "Easy." David replied.  "Britney told you.  So, when we split up again, you switched off the electricity.  Then, in the dark, you got the lead pipe and the rope, strangled Britney, ran to the library, killed the cop, picked up the gun where Britney dropped it, opened the front door, recognized the stripping telegram girl, and shot her."
    "You've no proof." Madonna said, simply.
    "The gun is missing." David said.  "Gentlemen, turn out your pockets.  Ladies and ladyboy, empty your purses.  Whoever has the gun, is the murderer."
    The others moved to comply.
    Madonna suddenly pulled the revolver from her purse, pointing it at the others.
    "Brilliantly worked out, David, I congratulate you." Madonna said.
    "Me too!" Frank said.
    "Shut up!" Madonna yelled, turning the gun on Frank.
    "Now, there's one thing I don't understand..." Steve said, as Brian hid behind him.
    "One thing?" Stef muttered.
    "Why did you do it?" Steve continued.  "I mean sure; Fred was blackmailing you, and you were jealous of Britney being with Stef...  But the others?  Why kill all of them?"
    Madonna laughed.  "The cook was the one who gave Fred the dirt on me, she happened to be at a party...  And over heard me talking to my lawyer." She said.  "As for the others...  They might have known too.  And besides...  They looked yummy."
    Steve looked confused.  "So all this was to cover up the murder of your last boyfriend?"
    "You guys have said you're in this business for the long haul..." She replied.  "Maybe you are, maybe you aren't.  But I sure as fuck am.  I won't let anything screw it up for me at this point.  And if that means killing a half dozen people, so be it."
    "How do you know we won't talk?" Frank asked.  "Not that I'm saying I would." He added hastily, as she pointed the gun at him again.
    "I'll just use Fred's blackmail scheme to keep you all quiet." Madonna replied.  "Not to mention that your careers could also go down the tubes, if tonight's events become public knowledge."
    "But you destroyed the evidence!" Brian insisted.
    Madonna held up her cell phone.  "Camera phone." She said.  "I e-mailed myself pictures of all the evidence.  The marvels of modern technology..."
    "Unlike the others, I have nothing left to lose." David mentioned.
    "Except your life." Madonna said, turning the gun on him.  "I'm afraid your moment has come."
    "Not so fast, Mrs. White." David said.  "I do have a secret or two left..."
    "Oh yeah?" Madonna said.  "Such as?"
    "The game's up, Madonna." David said.  "There are no more bullets left in that gun."
    "Oh, come on." She said.  "You don't think I'm gonna fall for that old trick...?"
    "It's not a trick." David said.  "There was one shot at Mr. Boddy in the study, two for the chandelier, two at the lounge door, and one for the stripping telegram."
    "That's not six." Madonna said.
    "One plus two plus two plus one." David said.
    Madonna shook her head.  "There was only one shot that got the chandelier.  That's one plus two plus one plus one."
    "Even if you're right, that would be one plus one plus two plus one.  Not 'one plus two plus one plus one.'"
    "Okay, fine.  One plus two plus one-" She broke off.  "SHUT UP!  Point is; there is one bullet left in this gun, and guess who's gonna get it!"
    Suddenly, the door bell rang again.
    For a split second, Madonna was distracted.  David grabbed Madonna by the wrist, and twisted her arm around behind her back.
    Steve dashed to the front door, and flung it open.
    A dozen police officers rushed into the house.
    "I'm only a guest." Frank said, putting his hands in the air.
    "Where's the chief?" David asked one of the cops.
    A moment later, the religious zealot from earlier entered the house, smiling.
    P.J. gaped at him.
    "Ah, Wadsworth, well done." The chief said.  "I did warn you my dear, Mrs. Dench is an expert on Armageddon."
    "Fuck..." Madonna muttered, realizing it was over.  She turned back to David.  "David, don't hate me for trying to shoot you...?"
    "Frankly, Madonna, I don't give a damn." David said.  "As I was trying to tell you, there are no bullets left in this gun, you see..."
    He pulled the trigger.
    A gunshot rang out.
    Madonna chuckled.
    David looked confused.  "One plus two..." He began.
    "Plus one." He and Madonna said, together.
    "Plus two plus one...  Is..." Frank muttered to himself.
    Frank leapt an inch into the air, as another chandelier smashed into the floor just behind him.






    David switched the lights back on.
    "In the dark, a murderer ran across the hall to the study." David said.  "Picked up the rope, and the lead pipe, ran to the billiard room, strangled Britney-"
    He demonstrated by choking Madonna.  She gaged, and collapsed to her knees.
    "Ran to the library," David continued.
    Steve dived out of David's way.
    "Hit the cop on the head with the lead pipe-" David demonstrated on Frank.  "Then coming out of the library, the doorbell rang; it was the stripping telegram.  The murderer picked up the gun where Britney dropped it, ran to the door, opened it, recognized the girl, shot her!"
    David grabbed Brian by the hand.
    "And ran back," David said, dragging Brian with him.  "To the conservatory!"
    "The conservatory!" The others shouted.
    "Yes!" David said.
    "But Madonna wasn't in the conservatory!" Brian insisted.
    "No!" David said.  "But you were!"
    "So?" Brian asked.
    "You murdered them all." David said.  "You were the person who was missing when the cook and Mr. Boddy were murdered."
    "Why would I have murdered all the others?" Brian asked.
    "Obviously, in case Mr. Boddy had told them about you." David replied.
    "There's no proof..." Brian said, calmly.
    "Well, the gun is missing." David said.  "Gentlemen, turn out you pockets.  Ladies, empty your purses.  Whoever has the gun is the murderer."
    They did as David suggested.
    "Very well." Brian said, pulling the gun out of his purse.  "What do you purpose to do about it?"  He pointed the gun at David.
    "Nothing." David replied.
    "Nothing?" Brian asked, confused.
    "Nothing at all." David assured him.  "I don't approve of murder.  But, it seems to me you've done the world a public service; by riding it of an appalling blackmailer and his disgusting informers.  Not mention several twats who can't sing for shit..."
    "But the police will be here any minute." Steve said.  "What happens then?"
    "Why should the police come?" David said.  "Nobody's called them."
    "You mean...?" Brian asked.
    "That's right." David said, smiling.  "Now, I suggest that we stack the bodies in the cellar, lock it, leave quietly one at a time, and pretend that none of this has ever happened..."
    "Great idea." Brian said.  "I'll leave first, if you don't mind."
    "Be my guest." David said.  "In fact, I think we all owe you a vote of thanks.  For he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow-" He began singing.
    "For he's a jolly good fellow," The others joined in.  "Which nobody can deny, which nobody can deny, which nobody can deny, for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good fellow, for he's a jolly good..." They trailed off as Brian left the house.
    "I told you I didn't do it." Steve said.
    "But what if the cops find out what happened?" Frank said.
    "MI6 will take care of that." David said, casually.
    "You mean...?" Frank said.
    "My phone call from Mrs. Dench," David said.  "I work for her, of course."
    "There's still one thing I don't understand." Frank said.
    "One thing?" Madonna asked.
    "Why did Brian kill Asia?" Frank said.  "I thought they were friends..."
    "You'd have to ask Brian about that." David said.
    "Is there going to be a cover up?" Stef asked.
    "Isn't that in everybody's interest?" David said.  "What could be gained by exposer?"
    "But is MI6 in the habit of cleaning up after multiple murder?" Stef asked.
    "Of course." David replied.  "Haven't you watched any of the Bond films?"
    Brian fished Stef's car keys out of his purse, where he had placed them earlier that evening; after filching them from Stef's pocket.  He unlocked Stef's car, and opened the door.
    "Oh, Miss Scarlet...?" A voice said from behind him.
    Brian paused, and turned.  It was the bible thumper from earlier.
    "How did you know my name...?" Brian asked cautiously.
    "The kingdom of heaven is at hand." The man replied, and pulled out a gun.
    All around the driveway, spotlights were switched on.  And a dozen police officers came out of hiding.
    "Okay!" The man shouted.  "Take him away!"
    "Take your hands off me!" Brian shouted, as the officers grabbed him.  "I'm a famous rock star!"
    David and the others rushed out of the house, shielding their eyes from the spotlights.
    "Wadsworth," The chief said.  "We got him."
    "You see." David said.  "It's like the mounties; we always get our man."
    "Does Brian actually qualify as a man?" Steve asked.
    Stef slapped Steve upside the head.
    "Would anyone care for fruit, or dessert?" David asked.




    David switched the lights back on.
    "Sorry." David said.  "Didn't mean to frighten anyone."
    "You're a bit late for that!" Steve shouted.
    "Then there were three more murders." David said.
    "SO WHO DID IT?!!" They all demanded.
    "Lets consider each murder, one by one." David said.  "Professor Plum," He said, approaching Stef.  "You knew Mr. Boddy was still alive, even bass players can tell if someone is still breathing or not.  You fired the gun at him in the dark, and missed.  So you pretended he was dead, that's how you were able to kill him later, un-observed..."
    "That's right..." Brian said, thoughtfully.  "And Stef's the only one of us who's tall enough to have placed the candlestick above the bathroom door..."
    "But he was with us in the billiard room, when we found Britney screaming." Steve said.  "If that's when the cook was killed, how did he do it?"
    "I didn't!" Stef insisted.
    "You don't expect us to believe that, do you?" P.J. said.
    "You should." David said, turning to P.J..  "Britney killed the cook.  We didn't hear the cook scream, because you were screaming about the poisoned brandy.
    "Colonel Mustard." David said, stepping up to Frank.  "When we saw the motorist at the front door, you took the key to the weapons cupboard out of my pocket.  Then you suggested that we all split up.  You separated from Miss Scarlet, crossed the hall, opened the cupboard, took the wrench, ran to the conservatory, entered the lounge through the secret passage, killed the motorist with a blow on the head, like that-!" David demonstrated by swinging his hand in mid-air.
    "This is incredible!" Madonna said, as David grabbed her hand and led her to the stairs.
    "Not so incredible as what happened next." David said, rushing up the first flight of stairs.  "After we all split up again, I went up stairs with you-!"  He pointed at Madonna.  "Yes you, Mrs. White!  And, while I was in the master bedroom, you hurried down stairs, and turned off the electricity, got the rope from the open cupboard, and throttled Britney.
    "You were jealous that Britney had tossed you out in favor of younger meat.  That's why I'm surprised you didn't kill Stef as well..." David finished.
    "Yes..." Madonna said.  "Yes, I did it.  I killed Britney.  I hated her so much for dumping me...  I-I...  Flames, flames on the side of my face..."  She trailed off onto an incoherent tangent.
    David decided to continue with the explanation.  "But, while you were in the billiard room, Mrs. Peacock seized the opportunity, and under cover of darkness, crossed to the library and hit the cop, -whom she'd been having an affair with- on the head with a lead pipe.
    "True or false?" He asked P.J..
    "True..." P.J. admitted, hanging her head.
    "So it must have been Brian who shot the stripping telegram!" Stef deduced.
    "No..." Brian said, on the verge of tears.  "I'd never...  Not her..."
    "Steve?" Stef said.
    "I didn't do it!" Steve shouted.
    "Well, there's nobody else left." Frank observed.
    "But I didn't do it!!" Steve insisted.  "The gun is missing!  Whoever's got the gun, shot the girl!"
    "I shot her." David said, pulling the revolver from his pocket.
    "What?!" Brian squeaked.  He turned a wild eyed stare on David, unable to believe his ears.
    "So it was you..." Steve said.  "I was going to Expose you."
    "I know." David stated.  "So I chose to expose myself."
    "Sounds like plan!" Stef said, grinning eagerly.
    "You thought Mr. Boddy was dead..." David said.  "But why?  None of you looked that closely at his face, did you?"
    "Why would we want to?" Brian asked, in a tone of disgust.
    "You're not Mr. Bowie..." Steve said, his eyes brightening with comprehension.
    David laughed, and reached a hand up to his neck.  He pulled, and his face distorted before their eyes.  As the rubber mask came completely loose, Fred tossed it to the floor.
    "Wait a minute!" Stef demanded.  "So who did I kill?!"
    "My stunt double." Fred said, giving them all a shit-eating grin.
    "Fuck..." Stef muttered.
    "He was expendable, like all of you." Fred explained.  "I'm grateful to you all for disposing of my network of spies and informers, saved me a lot of trouble.  Now there's no evidence against me."
    "But, the police will be here any minute..." Steve said.  "You'll never get away with this, any of you..."
    "Why should the police come?" Fred asked.  "Nobody's called them."
    "You mean...?" Madonna began.  "Oh, my God, of course...!"
    "So why shouldn't we get away with it?" Fred said.  "We'll stack the bodies in the cellar, lock it, leave quietly, one at a time...  And forget that any of this ever happened."
    "And you'll just-just- go on blackmailing us all..." Steve said, stepping forward.
    "Of course." Fred replied, chuckling.  "Why not?"
    "Well, I'll tell you why not..." Steve said.
    As quick as lightning, Steve pulled a gun from the inside pocket of his jacket, and fired.
    Fred's reaction time was too slow, and he collapsed against the wall, dropping his own gun.
    "Oh, good shot Green..." Fred muttered, as he slid down the wall.  "...Very good...."  Fred slumped to the floor, dead.
    "Are you a cop?!" Madonna asked in disbelief.
    "MI6." Steve said, holding up his I.D. card.  "That phone call from Judy Dench was for me...  I told you I didn't do it."
    Steve walked briskly to the front door, and pulled it open.  A half dozen police officers bustled into the house, and secured the room.
    "All right, whodunit?" The chief asked, walking in.
    The room launched into a flurry of accusations and denials.
    "They all did it!" Steve shouted, silencing the others.  "But if you wanna know who killed Mr. Boddy...  I did, in the hall, with the revolver.  Okay, Chief, take 'em away..."
    Steve walked over and grabbed Brian around the waist, kissing him.
    Steve smiled at the others.  "I'm gonna go home, and sleep with my wife."