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Tammy had an unfortunate draw in life: she was only 2 feet tall, in heels. As if this pituitary malfunction wasn’t enough, she also had shiny turquoise scales for skin and, whenever she talked, her words came out somewhat like a serpent’s hiss. Tammy was not naïve, though, and well understood her plight. She knew, for example, that she probably would not be elected President of the United States. “After all, who would vote for a woman?” she often asked to no one in particular.

Then one breezy fall morning, Tammy hit upon a plan. “I might as well irritate people intentionally. They already despise me.” So she designed one. She would construct a battery-powered speaker that emitted a high-pitched squeal, something like the sound of chalk being scraped across a blackboard, and affix it to a derby hat. “That should do it,” she hissed. Then she set off on her new-found mission.

Two days later, Tammy completed her noise-maker derby. “This works,” she remarked. And it did, quite well in fact. And because it did, she wore it every day, wherever she happened to go.

Two weeks later—Monday to be precise—Linda Mays, a colleague of Tammy’s at Innotech, looked around for Tammy, but Tammy was nowhere to be found. In fact, no one had seen her all day. This was unusual. “Did she call in sick?” Linda asked around. No one knew. A day passed. A week. Finally it hit Linda, “something is wrong.” With some hesitancy, Linda called the police and directed them to Tammy’s in-town condo, where she met the officers in person.

“Break down the door!” Linda shouted to a skinny officer lazily tapping on the door. After some cajoling and one particularly effective insult suggesting an inappropriate relationship with a French Saddle Pony, he did. There staring Linda and the two officers in the face was Tammy’s body, silently hanging from a brass chandelier. Tiny blood droplets led a path from beneath her body to a single bedroom. Following the shining path, the officers made a grim discovery: Tammy’s bed sheets were stained with blood. Equally disturbing was the presence of a small replacement chandelier bulb attached to Tammy’s left hand with Scotch tape.

Tammy was quickly and clumsily pulled down and, a half hour later, lifted lifeless into an ambulance. An attendant carefully examined her corpse and found several small puncture wounds between her bruised shoulder blades. Based on DNA testing of finger nails pulled from Tammy’s decaying skin, the forensic lab verified that the wounds were not self-inflicted

Her murder remained a mystery. One thing, however, was certain—the perpetrator was not smart. The killer thought he (or she) had made it seem as if Tammy killed herself. But hiding a knife under a victim’s pillow or leaving a partial finger nail in a victim’s body generally refute otherwise clever attempts at subterfuge. The taped light bulb, however, remained a mystery; indeed, no theory was ever advanced; no words ever recorded as to its occurrence.

Because of Tammy’s bizarre antics with the noise-maker derby, everyone was a suspect. Three months later, however, the police arrested Lindsay LoMan on suspicion of murder. She was tried and convicted.

its right there

very much like CSI

i think we need to hear how u put this

and it would take a real long time to make the story with me cuz i love this stuff

but im not in the mood today

i think ill mail it to u

😀

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