Detective Haswell and the Case of the Stolen Clicker Clackers----- Part 2

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Haswell thinks he knows who dun it. So, does he? Did Clyde do it? Did he work alone? What exactly did he do? Find out these questions and maybe more, in Part 2 of Detective Haswell and the Case of the Stolen Clicker Clackers...

Submitted: March 09, 2012

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Submitted: March 09, 2012

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"Hurry! We don't have much time!  I know exactly where he's going!" 

"Where detective where?!" 

"Doll... it's the most obvious of unobvious places for Clyde to strike again..."

We were in a hurry... as you can tell.  We ran like hippies goin' to a fleetwood mac concert just to get to the car.  When we got in I started it.  My car was a classical 64' corvett.  Beatiful.  It was like a car sent down from the heavens.  Heck, it costed more than the other side of the grass...  anyway... I knew where Clyde was going to strike again.  I picked up the radio transmitter in the car and dialed Sheriff Steve's number...

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Meanwhile...

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He was panting as he ran like a mad cow after the culprit.  It was in the interagattion room when it happened.  Steve had left for only two minutes to go to krispy creme to get a sheriff's stawberry doughnut.  But when he returned...the man had vanished. 

He had driven his car all around the city, and finally found him in a field in the countryside.  He had come to an abrupt halt, gotten out of the car, slammed the door like he was little boy eager to go to the zoo for the first time.  And then... he ran.  he chased the man all the way to a nearby farmhouse.  The man ran inside... well, he really busted through the glass of the back deck door... put that's more or less running when you think about it...  he followed him in and finally caught him when all of the sudden he got a ring on his cellular device...

"Hello?", said the sheriff. 

"Sheriff Steve!  It's Haswell." 

"Ah, I see... is there a problem detective?"

"Uhh.. no.. well!... umm Yes! but uhh.. you see..."

"Go on..."

"We got 'em Steve...we finally got 'em."

"Who Haswell who?!"

"CLYDE."

"SHUT UP!  No way!  Ok... where do I meet you?"

"Dollar Genral, ETA 10 minutes."

"Gotch ya'... I can't belive we got him..."

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Back on Haswell's End...

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BOOM!  Haswell rolled across the solid clorox covered tile floor in dollar genral as he busted through the door. 

"Hello?!  I am detective Haswell...these are my friends... Betty, my assistant... and Ms. Laney... my... ummm...client... is anyone here?"

"Ehhh..."

Haswell heard the groans and bolted to the back of the room like a jumping jack rabbit in July.There was a man in the corner, curled up into a tiny ball.  He wore a name tag that read:DOLLAR GENRAL

MiKe THE MentaL

"Hello person.", stated Haswell.

"He took them... all of them...",Mike replied.

"What son what?!"

"The cho- the chocl- the choclate covered cherriessss...  ALL OF THEM!"

"Calm down son, calm down.  Did you happen to see what he was driving in?"

"Yess... T'was a- a crimson cadillac..."

"Ok... so lemme' get this straight.  we got a Clyde the criminal on the lose, ridin' in a crimson caddilac, that just robbed Carl's Dollar Genral, with a box a' Choclate coverd cherries and a pair a' cherry red clicker clackers?  Well Betty... It's a' gonna' be a' heck of a night...

 

 

 


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