Gleefully Macabre Mystery, Part I
Taking justice into your own hands is a big decision, but I'm cool with it. The members of Mumblecrust will pay for what they did to me, and I will get Gleefully Macabre Tales back in time for it to go up for pre-order from Delirium Books next week.
Yesterday, I paid a surprise visit to the home of the first scoundrel who kidnapped me. Herman Dorkins. A frustrated writer whose last six novels were rejected by PublishAmerica. He'd always resented my mild success, but now he'd taken his jealousy too far!
Following is a transcript of our conversation:
JEFF: Hello, Herman.
HERMAN: YOU! I mean, uh, hi Jeff. How's it going? Haven't seen you in a while. Cats doing okay?
JEFF: Don't "I mean uh hi Jeff how's it going haven't seen you in a while cats doing okay" me, Herman. You know why I'm here.
HERMAN: I don't. I really don't. It's for something non-confrontational, I assume.
JEFF: As always, your ludicrous assumption doesn’t match the reality of the situation. Mind if I take a look around?
HERMAN: I'd rather you didn't.
JEFF: I'd rather I did. Stay in my way so I can shove you aside.
[Jeff shoves Herman aside and walks into his living room.]
JEFF: Nice place you've got here. Almost...too nice. But not quite. Just nice enough. You don't mind if I check out your office, do you?
HERMAN: Do you have a search warrant?
JEFF: Right here. [Jeff holds up his fists. The words "Search Warrant" are tattooed upon his knuckles in a manly font.]
HERMAN: That works, sir.
[Jeff opens up the door to Herman's office and steps inside.]
JEFF: Gracious!
HERMAN: It could use some tidying, I'll admit.
JEFF: You need to use your vast collection of featherdusters for their intended purpose! This is nasty, Hermie! I mean, even after my months of post-Stoker-loser depression I had at least one square inch in my office that was dust-free! And look at all the cobwebs! And the cobs! Why are there ancient corn cobs on your floor? Dude!
HERMAN: Okay, okay, I've let my office go! I haven't written anything in a year! Are you happy? I'm as blocked as an elderly woman who's eaten six pounds of cheese!
JEFF: I see.
HERMAN: I just can't do it. It's like I'm afraid that the keyboard is going to bite my hand off or something. I know it's not normal to feel this way--
JEFF: It certainly isn't.
HERMAN: --but I can't help myself. I may never write again.
JEFF: And perhaps while you wallowed in self-pity, you concocted a scheme to make sure that others suffered the same lack of productivity! Is that why you joined Mumblecrust and stole the manuscript for Gleefully Macabre Tales?
HERMAN: I didn't steal the manuscript! I swear!
JEFF: Interesting that you deny having stolen the manuscript, since I never told you it was stolen!
HERMAN: Yes, you did. Just now.
JEFF: Oh. That's right. My bad.
HERMAN: And I read it on your blog.
JEFF: Still, you've always been jealous of me. Don't think I don't know about that "I Really Hate Jeff Strand" scrapbook you keep. Photographs of me with silly mustaches drawn upon them... clippings of my finest reviews with "Yeah, right!" scrawled in crayon...samples of my DNA that you eventually plan to use to make a clone that you can drop on its head as a baby...you're the Salieri to my Mozart, admit it!
HERMAN: No! I quit updating that scrapbook months ago!
JEFF: Where is it now?
HERMAN: It...it was stolen! Right off my desk!
JEFF: Is that so?
HERMAN: Yes! In fact, it was stolen just this morning, no doubt by the person who sabotaged Gleefully Macabre Tales! If you find the person with my scrapbook-o-hate, you'll find the true culprit!
JEFF: Hmmm. I remain unconvinced.
HERMAN: Well, maybe this will convince you! [Suddenly, Herman points a gun at him.]
JEFF: Actually, no, that makes me more certain of your guilt.
HERMAN: No, no, I meant that maybe this gun would convince you to leave me alone.
JEFF: That it did. But I know you're lying...somehow...
But how? How do I know that he's not being entirely truthful with me? If YOU have figured out the solution to this beguiling mystery, and YOU want to be one of the glorious souls who help me retrieve the Gleefully Macabre Tales manuscript, send your answer to GleefullyMacabre@gmail.com.
Everybody who sends in a correct entry will be immortalized...but you'll find out how you'll be immortalized later. Heh heh. This installment of the mystery ends at 8:00 PM Eastern Time tomorrow (Wednesday the 19th). But rest assured that there are more members of Mumblecrust and more liars to expose, so watch this blog all week for more chances to help solve the Gleefully Macabre mystery!
Yesterday, I paid a surprise visit to the home of the first scoundrel who kidnapped me. Herman Dorkins. A frustrated writer whose last six novels were rejected by PublishAmerica. He'd always resented my mild success, but now he'd taken his jealousy too far!
Following is a transcript of our conversation:
JEFF: Hello, Herman.
HERMAN: YOU! I mean, uh, hi Jeff. How's it going? Haven't seen you in a while. Cats doing okay?
JEFF: Don't "I mean uh hi Jeff how's it going haven't seen you in a while cats doing okay" me, Herman. You know why I'm here.
HERMAN: I don't. I really don't. It's for something non-confrontational, I assume.
JEFF: As always, your ludicrous assumption doesn’t match the reality of the situation. Mind if I take a look around?
HERMAN: I'd rather you didn't.
JEFF: I'd rather I did. Stay in my way so I can shove you aside.
[Jeff shoves Herman aside and walks into his living room.]
JEFF: Nice place you've got here. Almost...too nice. But not quite. Just nice enough. You don't mind if I check out your office, do you?
HERMAN: Do you have a search warrant?
JEFF: Right here. [Jeff holds up his fists. The words "Search Warrant" are tattooed upon his knuckles in a manly font.]
HERMAN: That works, sir.
[Jeff opens up the door to Herman's office and steps inside.]
JEFF: Gracious!
HERMAN: It could use some tidying, I'll admit.
JEFF: You need to use your vast collection of featherdusters for their intended purpose! This is nasty, Hermie! I mean, even after my months of post-Stoker-loser depression I had at least one square inch in my office that was dust-free! And look at all the cobwebs! And the cobs! Why are there ancient corn cobs on your floor? Dude!
HERMAN: Okay, okay, I've let my office go! I haven't written anything in a year! Are you happy? I'm as blocked as an elderly woman who's eaten six pounds of cheese!
JEFF: I see.
HERMAN: I just can't do it. It's like I'm afraid that the keyboard is going to bite my hand off or something. I know it's not normal to feel this way--
JEFF: It certainly isn't.
HERMAN: --but I can't help myself. I may never write again.
JEFF: And perhaps while you wallowed in self-pity, you concocted a scheme to make sure that others suffered the same lack of productivity! Is that why you joined Mumblecrust and stole the manuscript for Gleefully Macabre Tales?
HERMAN: I didn't steal the manuscript! I swear!
JEFF: Interesting that you deny having stolen the manuscript, since I never told you it was stolen!
HERMAN: Yes, you did. Just now.
JEFF: Oh. That's right. My bad.
HERMAN: And I read it on your blog.
JEFF: Still, you've always been jealous of me. Don't think I don't know about that "I Really Hate Jeff Strand" scrapbook you keep. Photographs of me with silly mustaches drawn upon them... clippings of my finest reviews with "Yeah, right!" scrawled in crayon...samples of my DNA that you eventually plan to use to make a clone that you can drop on its head as a baby...you're the Salieri to my Mozart, admit it!
HERMAN: No! I quit updating that scrapbook months ago!
JEFF: Where is it now?
HERMAN: It...it was stolen! Right off my desk!
JEFF: Is that so?
HERMAN: Yes! In fact, it was stolen just this morning, no doubt by the person who sabotaged Gleefully Macabre Tales! If you find the person with my scrapbook-o-hate, you'll find the true culprit!
JEFF: Hmmm. I remain unconvinced.
HERMAN: Well, maybe this will convince you! [Suddenly, Herman points a gun at him.]
JEFF: Actually, no, that makes me more certain of your guilt.
HERMAN: No, no, I meant that maybe this gun would convince you to leave me alone.
JEFF: That it did. But I know you're lying...somehow...
But how? How do I know that he's not being entirely truthful with me? If YOU have figured out the solution to this beguiling mystery, and YOU want to be one of the glorious souls who help me retrieve the Gleefully Macabre Tales manuscript, send your answer to GleefullyMacabre@gmail.com.
Everybody who sends in a correct entry will be immortalized...but you'll find out how you'll be immortalized later. Heh heh. This installment of the mystery ends at 8:00 PM Eastern Time tomorrow (Wednesday the 19th). But rest assured that there are more members of Mumblecrust and more liars to expose, so watch this blog all week for more chances to help solve the Gleefully Macabre mystery!
posted by Jeff Strand at 5:05 PM
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