A good thing about the rustic landscape of Napoli is that when one is residing in some picturesque albergoor similar inn, one finds it incredibly easy to wake up.
After all, there are those loud, jovial ringing bells from the town square; there are the noisy fighting cockerels, not to mention the roaring, bustling ringing sound of the villagers heading down to the market...
Alexandria Fortune heard all these things, and woke quite easily to them. In fact, she woke so quickly and easily she surprised herself. The reason for this abrupt wake quickly became clear.
She was being arrested.
“What?!” was the first thing she screamed.
In front of her bed where a conglomeration of police officers and slick caribinieri; all eyes fixed on her.
Inspector Waffle, with Bombolone beside him, was the first to speak.
“You’re being arrested Fortune,” he yawned, “For the murder of DS Johan Jyhan, that lanky strawberry blond kid, if you want to say anything, you have the right, etc…etc…and so on – it’s too early Bombolone.”
“Don’t worry Fortune,” said the large figure of the Chief Inspector kindly, “We’ll get you out…”
“Signor Inspector, sir,” said a fiery but petite redhead with curly hair, “We insist the lady is taken in – questioned. This is serious.”
“It was my police officer she supposedly killed, Sorrella,” shot back Bombolone harshly, “Let me deal with this.”
“I’m sorry, but no,” said the donna, so called Ispettrice Annabella Sorrella, in harsh English, “She is, how you say… murderer”
Ispettrice Annabella Sorrella was an inspector, if you hadn’t guessed. She was also one of those women, quite typical of Italians I believe, who looked absolutely gorgeous at a quick glance, but
when looked at in detail actually remind you of a painting by Picasso; if you understand my meaning.
“Murderer?!” cried Fortune in anger at the redheaded Italian, “You idiot! I’ve been asleep!”
“Asleep. Murderer. I meant suspect. It’s all the same to me.”
Annabella Sorrella left quickly and sharply, with the not so heavenly host of caribinieri trailing behind her.
“Isn’t she wonderful…” said Inspector Waffle suddenly, gazing at the door.
“Yes! She is!” cried the door back to him.
“Wait,” said Waffle, “You’re a door – you shouldn’t be speaking.”
“That’s right!” said the door, “But you’re in love, so in love you think doors are speaking to you – idiot.”
He was suddenly hit by a large fish.
“Snap out of it Waffle!”
Bombolone put the fish down, and started answering the many questions bursting out of Fortune’s head.
what will happen next? will anyone understand the plot? will anyone read it anyway? find out at some future point!
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