The Case Of The Murder Of Vanderbilt Crotch

Below you will find the results of my having challenged myself for a number of days to write a short story with a beginning and middle and an end inside of 30 minutes. Here is what I came up with. I hope you like it.

When Inspector Decq arrived, he noticed that he was the only person in the apartment who wasn’t holding a Starbucks cup. He’d gone to Dunkin’ Donuts.

“Bring me up to speed,” he whispered to Sergeant Morales.

“We think Vanderbilt Crotch has been murdered.”

You think? There’s a headless body on the couch.”

”Well, we don’t know if that’s him…”

”…on account of he doesn’t have a head.”

”On account of he doesn’t have a head.”

Inspector Decq lightly blew air across the top of the Styrofoam cup.

“Where’s the head?” he asked.

“That kid has it,” answered Morales, pointing at a small child hiding behind the fishtank.

The boy was about 6 or 7 years old. He was dragging Vanderbilt Crotch’s disembodied noggin behind him by the hair. He’d already stuffed a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle in the deceased industrialist’s mouth.

“Who is that kid?” demanded Inspector Decq.

“That’s my son.” A tallish blonde woman wearing a denim jacket emerged from the kitchen.

“Who are you?”
“I’m Becky. I live downstairs, and that’s my son, Dashboard Confessional.”

“Your son’s dragging around a murdered man’s head.”

”We’re homeschooling him, and we’re placing emphasis on tactile experience.”

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