November twenty-third, 1998, it spreads like fire. Everyone is talking about it. One of the most famous mysteries ever was soon going to be recorded in history.  

 Ashton: “Psst, over here.”

Ashton has long black hair, wide dark blue crystal eyes, and a tanned tone to her skin.

 Ashton said as the bright shining light burned out in a second, leaving a dark and wet alley.  

Mike: “I got your call. You said you can help me find the culprit.”

Mike has red eyes, curly hair, and a much darker skin tone than Ashton.

 As a revolting smell of dead flesh lingers over us.  

Ashton: “The one who killed the man.”

Mike: “Okay, I get it. I will help you but first, where’s my moolah.” 

Ashton: “You’ll get one hundred grand once you help me.”

Mike: “Fine, I will help you.” 

Ashton: “Good, here.”  

Mike: “What’s this?” 

Ashton: “Your money.”

Mike “That’s only fifty. Where’s my other half?” 

Ashton: “You will get your full one hundred once we get the culprit behind bars.”

Mike: “Fine, but once we find him, I get my moolah. Did you get that?” 

Ashton: “I’m a woman of my word.”

Mike: “Now, who did you say you were again?”

Mike: “I’m sorry, but you remember me, right? It’s probably amnesia.”

Ashton: “Ashton, now hop in the van.”

Mike: “Why?”

 It was an old, broken down, smelly 2000s mine van from the look of it.  

Ashton: “To get breakfast.”

Mike: “Alright,”

 As Mike hoped in, he felt a lump on the van carpet. The carpet was stained and had tiers and holes. Its cooler looked like a peachy tan color. As Mike looked for the old rag buckle, when he finally found it, it was jammed with a piece of chewed pink bubble gum.    

Ashton: “I’m thinking of Starbucks.”

Mike: “Why?” 

Ashton: “I’m craving a light milk coffee.”

Mike: “I will just get a brownie for myself.”  

Ashton: “Fine! You don’t have to be so grumpy about it.”

Mike: “I’m not being rude. If anything, you’re the one that’s being mean about everything. Why are you accusing me of anything?”

Ashton: “Oh, ha! Do you want to take this to jail?”

Mike: “No.” 

Ashton: “Alright then. Coffee?”  

Mike: “Yes.”

Ashton: “Let’s go.” 

This is it, Mike thought; in his head, it’s shiny with bright white lights and smooth glass tiles. The light was lovely, and the bright reflection of the tiles gave the room a glow as Mike thought in his head that this must be a new remodel.  

Ashton: “Don’t worry, I will pay from here.”

Mike: “Cool, thanks.” 

Ashton: “No problem. Go get your seat before someone sits on you and squishes you.”

Mike: “Fine, don’t forget my brownie.” 

Ashton: “I know.” 

 Ashton: “Here.”

Mike: “Thanks.”

Gulp, crush, nibble.  

Ashton: “Dang, take it slow, Mr. black hole, or you will get a stomach ache if you consume and devour it like that.”

Mike: “I haven’t eaten all day. I’m starving.”

Ashton: “That’s your fault. You’re the one who decided not to eat.”

Mike: “Shut up! All I want to do is eat and get my moolah. And some friend you are. You haven’t even reached out to me for years until now, for you to only practice and better yourself at your own hobby of trying to get into law school!”

Then there was a moment of silence between Mike and his old friend, who now felt like a strange acquaintance.

Ashton: “Just watch the tv.”  

Mike: “Why?”

Ashton: “The news is on, and we might get another clue.”

Mike: “Indeed, you don’t say.”

Newswomen: “This is FOXY news, breaking news. Another murder has been found at the library today at noontime. Police found a nineteen-year-old boy with his neck snapped. They also found fingerprints around the body. You’re watching FOXY news.”  

Ashton: “Did you hear that?”

Mike: “Yes, how couldn’t I.” 

Ashton: “Come on and get back in the van.”

Mike: “Again, for another ten hours.”  

Ashton: “The way here was not ten hours-it was only twenty minutes. Now stop grouping and get in.”

Mike: “I’m going.” 

Ashton: “Well, this is it.”

Mike: “Now, how are we going to get to the library when there are police everywhere.”

Ashton: “We are going to break in.”

Mike: “What ha! You had me at we’re going to break in. However, I am no expert in law school, and I know you have more advanced studies in such matters. Still, I don’t think it is our place to do such an investigation as if we get involved in any way, I believe we will be the ones behind bars.”

Ashton: “Okay, are you ready or not?”  

Mike: “Oh yeah, I am. I always wanted to break into something, I’m just saying.”

Ashton: “Good, come on!”  

Ashton: “Here.” 

Mike: “Ah, what’s this?” 

Ashton: “A gun. You might need it if you get in a pickle. No, really, there are pickles everywhere! And worse, they’re mutant killer monsters, so watch out!” 

Ashton: “Now, come on! We are running out of time before they take the body away. We need to get to it before that happens. Now here, Just take this.”

Mike: “What?!”

Ashton: “It’s a grappling hook; we will need it now, hush.”

Mike: “Then why can’t you hold it?” 

Ashton: “My hands are full now….”

Mike: “Wait, gas bombs?!...”

Mike: “Oh, no, please don’t tell me you’re going to fart because it was one thing to grow up and live with you and therefore getting a “tolerance” of your farts, buts it’s another thing since my nostrils lost their “tolerance” of them because not seeing you in a while.”

Ashton: “…Now, where are they? Haha! There they are; I found the lasers!”

Mike: “What lasers?”  

Ashton: “It’s so we can see with super x-ray vision.”

Mike: “Wow, you really have learned a lot since the last time we hung out; by the way, where the heck did you get all these things in the first place?! Did you spend time at the black market or something?

Ashton: “Ha, no, my grandpa was in the army, and he now owns a military equipment store, and I have my ways of getting family discounts from him. Now, give me the grappling hook. Wahoo, up and out!” 

*crash* *boom*

Ashton: “Wow-I’m surprised that the police didn’t hear that.”

Mike: “Oh, believe me, I’m sure they did but seeing that they are not coming over to investigate me too! I mean, we broke through the glass.”

Ashton: “I know, right? They must have a lot of earwax.”

Mike: “No kidding.”

Ashton: “Now come on, we need that body if we’re going to find the killer. Now split up.”

As they started to walk through the extensive library that’s comparable to Trump’s ego, some of its bookshelves were bolted to the ground to the ceiling and were painted like a light tone of gray, the carpet was stiff and blue, and the majority of the side walls were just large glass plates. From the ceiling were hanging decorative art pieces like wooden shapes.

Mike: “Wow, wait, no, you know it always goes wrong when people split.”

Ashton: “No kidding, captain, obvious, but Just do it.” 

Mike: “Okay, but if anything happens, don’t say I didn’t try and tell you so.”

Ashton “Fine, thank you for the word of advice!”

Ashton: “Now go find the body.”

Ashton: “Hahaha, he’s so busy that he doesn’t realize I’m the killer. Ha! Ha! Ha!”

Mike: “you’re what?”

Ashton: “Oh, umm, you didn’t hear that, did you?” 

Mike: “Yeah, I did.”

Ashton: “No, you couldn’t have. You must have misheard me. I said I’m surprised the businessman doesn’t realize I’m a miller.”

Mike: “While I’m going to have to add another murderer to my collection? Haha, police! I found the convict. Lock her up, boys.”

Ashton: “No, you got the wrong person. No! Now I hate you.” 

Mike: “Goodbye, old friend; boys lock her up and put her in jail.” 

Popos: “Sir, yes, sir!”

Mike: “Goodbye.”

Ashton: “No! No! I hate you even more now than beforehand. How could you do this to me? You betrayed me? I should have kept my big mouth shut; it was just a jock.”

Mike: “Wait, did the police just salute me, and did you admit you were holding a bitter grudge towards me? Oh well, I guess I don’t need your money anyway?”

Mike: “And that’s my thanksgiving break.”

Mrs. Linda: “Okay then, you might have exaggerated your story Mike, but a 

good story. Now class, get your literacy journals out.”

Class: “Why?”

Mrs. Linda: “Because I’m the teacher and I said, so that’s why, just do it, before you make your teacher blow like a volcano, and I send you to detention with a bloody but. Did you get that?”

There was silence in the class for a few seconds. The classroom was a square with a corner cut out of it for a teacher’s office; it had light streamers across the whiteboard that were a light blue and had a setting of clear white light too. There were two bean bags, one in the front left of the room, which was pink, and the other in the back of the room where the dark blue metal exit door was, which was purple. The desk were in an order and shape of a capital l with one set on the outside and the other inside. The carpet was a hue of what seemed to be like the multiple pixels from television, green, red, and blue.

Class: “Yes, Mrs. Linda.” 

 Mrs. Linda: “Good.”

one hour later

Mike: “Woohoo! Lunch.”

As Mike sat down with one of his close school acquaintances named Blake.

As he thought about how he couldn’t wait to taste those darn good rootin tootin chicken strips, Mike never knew why people didn’t like school lunch. He didn’t mind it; it was modestly reasonable. 

Blake: “You know, I think our English teacher is the real culprit herself. I mean, she’s different from any other teacher I’ve ever had and more isolated; she’s also even more fearless. I mean, she said she would give you a bloody but, how could she not be afraid of losing her job after giving a threat like that? She has to be a killer. We should call her Miss Kills. Get it? killed kills.”

Mike: “Yes, I get it, but that wasn’t funny. I may have only known you for a few months but come on, you’re better than that. I’ve heard greater comedian jokes from you than that.”

Mike: “Come on, we must head to our next class.”  

They walked through the brown-tinted school hallways with orange rusty yet surprising still slick lockers.

Mrs. Linda: “Uh-huh… yall know I hate teaching, hahaha….”

 As Mrs. Linda laughs hysterically like she’s going insane. Then she stopped, turned her head to Blake, went over to her desk, grabbed the hallway note pass, slammed it on his desk, and slid it with her one long finger to him, saying that his second-period teacher has need of him.

Mrs. Linda: “So next, instead of me just teaching you algebra, we’re going to read about it, so get your one hundred-page plus notebook out and zip your piehole, and read quietly. Or else I will hand you over to the iron fist of the principal, and it won’t be pretty, capeesh!”

Class: “No! No! No!”

Mrs. Linda: “Good anybody else. That’s what I thought. Now read, read, read!”

Blake: “Yes, ma’am, but I have just one question if you don’t mind me asking.”

Mrs. Linda: “I do mind, but since you don’t like when I talk, I will allow you to ask so I can torture you more.”

Blake: “Oki, that’s something that I can take my chances on seeing that I love to talk, but anyhow, if you despise teaching with all of your inner being and gut, why do you work full time all six periods with two different subjects as an English and math teacher?”

Mrs. Linda didn’t say anything but rather gave Blake a deadly gaze into his soul.

Blake: “Uh-huh. I’m bored.”

Mike: “So am I, now, shhh. You’re going to get us caught.”

Mrs. Linda: “Mr. Blake, do you have something to say?”

Blake: “Oh no.” 

Mrs. Linda: “Okay! Then get back to work.”

Blake: “Okay, Miss Linda.”

Mrs. Linda: “Wait a second, I thought I sent you to your other class.”

Blake: “You did.”

Mrs. Linda: “Oh really?”

Mrs. Linda “Well, I suppose I should bring up the word gun?”

Mrs. Linda said as her eye twitched.

Mike: “Wait, Ashton!” 

Mrs. Linda: “Who’s Ashton?”

Mike: “The murderer, wait for just a second, 

Mike put his finger on his chin and then pointed it into the air with a eureka moment.

Mike: “Miss Linda, I believe the killer is you.”

Mrs. Linda: “And why exactly do you believe that? Do you have any solid evidence of me being convicted?”

Mike: “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. First of all, I remember you saying just before the break that you have some unwanted business to attend to on your personal family “hit lists” you may have been just pointing out that you have a list of agendas for the break but on the country, I also remember seeing you in the weapons isle in Sports men’s Wearhouse. Coupled with the fact that Ashton pleaded guilty and there was no legal evidence against her. But, on the other hand, you made some pretty interesting fearless claims that aren’t allowed to be thrown at students. Therefore it is my conclusion that you allowed Ashton to go to jail to cover up your actions, a scapegoat if you will!”

As the class stirs in awe, waiting to see what will happen next as Mike pushes Mrs. Linda into the corner with his intimidating voice. 

Mrs. Linda: “Wow, hold on, just wait.” 

As she passed, then, like the grinch, softened up and confessed. 

Mike: “Hold on, you just stay there, miss homicide. I always have my phone on me, and I can call the police on you.”

Mrs. Linda: “No phones or electronics allowed during class. I can send you to detention and suspend you if necessary. Hah, hah, hah.” 

Mike: “911, what’s your emergency?”

Mrs. Linda: “no, stop that... no, not jail again.”

Mike: “See, you wouldn’t want to be you, and school’s out!”