It was Colonel Mustard in the Kitchen! I Swear!

This entry is the result of a dream I had last night about being chased by "The Man", no doubt to deport me (or worse, lose my file), and a steady dose of Pink Floyd that made its way through my iPod all day. So it's safe to say I've gota fair bit of paranoia running in my veins and the time has come to put it to some use. Therefore, I'm going to play a little game of Clue with my ridiculously exciting life. Get excited. Now. Do it. Go ahead. I'm waiting. Hey you, in the back! If you're not going to participate, you can show yourself the way out. No no! I'm kidding! Don't X me out. Whew, thanks. My circulation is really low at this point, so I can't afford to lose any readers. Tell your friends!!

Here we go:

If I were the victim of the vicious plastic rope or the miniature lead pipe, who would take my life? If you're saying "Ooh Ooh me me!" right now...don't let me know. I'm laying down the rules here: this is going to be a proper investigation. Do you hear me? There's no room for showboating or heroics in this precinct.

Wadsworth, Butler - I think I've been more than nice to this man. He sleeps inside, you know. He gets paid well (in my opinion) and he has benefits (like lots of count sheets). I see no motive here. Do you?

Professor Plum, Professor - Jealous of my intelligence, he probably decided to take me out. And he has a degree, mostly likely a Ph.D. Anyone who willingly asks to be educated for that long has got a few screws loose already. Maybe I was a threat to his Nobel prize. Maybe I ate his sandwich...or his plums. And that was it man! He snapped! He went rotten! We've got a suspect. Let's get some DNA.

Miss Peacock, old lady - So I'm a hoodlum, eh? Am I too much of a rebel for you lady? With my flip flops and SUV, am I a threat? Did I touch the thermostat? But then again, you are old; you may be hesitent to handle bloodwork. However, I can't rule you out just because of that! Old people do crazy things like call local television stations with requests for investigative journalism. That's just too shady for my liking miss.

Miss White, WASP - Oh just because I'm white do you think I'm trying to steal something from you? GET OVER IT LADY! You wouldn't, would you? You would rather take me out (which is obviously not very nice).

Mister Green, tycoon or hoax? - Eh he's got the money, there's no motive. Other than the fact that I have more! You silly people, you were just going to overlook Mister Green, seduced by his stash. I, on the other hand, saw through the facade. And you call yourself a detective? Briscoe would be dissapointed.

Colonel Mustard, authority on condiments - A military man? I think not. Too much discipline there. Then again, he's probably good at taking out his target. Maybe I ate his sandwich too.

Miss Scarlet, lady in red - Oh it was so Miss Scarlet. You know why? Because I rejected her. That's right. I'm a taken man. I couldn't be swayed by her premiscous advances. I am a man of passions, but they have their place. I didn't think she would come back at me like this. I didn't get the lady a Manhattan and I go down because of it? Women are crazy.

Alright, case closed. Go home. I'm tired of typing.