"Right, I was there, you know, physically. I thought we were talking spiritually. I've found inner peace, so, you know, my soul wasn't technically in Santa Monica. You see." "Of course," Detective Dale said. "Why don't you start from the beginning?" "Sure thing. So, it's Thursday, and I'm working really hard." Miranda cleared her throat. "
Labor Day. "It deserves a party, is my point, it deserves some recognition. So Brockway and I, we decide to throw a classy little shindig, right? Not just because of Labor Day. Between the fact that Brockway's book is now available for pre-order and the recent announcement that Cracked will also be publishing a book, we had a lot to celebrate. So we had some drinks. We bought some champagne, we wore top hats, real classy stuff. Brockway even had a monocle. A regular Mr. Peanut, this guy."
Miranda cleared her throat and produced a few sheets of paper. "Security cameras show that neither Mr. O'Brien nor Mr. Brockway left at any time to purchase champagne." "OK, right, yeah, we already
"Please," Detective Dale said, "continue with the story. We're still trying to put the pieces together." "Right, so Brockway and I had a few of our Listerinis, and then he wanted to lie down for a while, so I decided to do the gentlemanly thing and go through his desk lookin' for candy or money or whatever. I had a pretty good soap buzz going on, so my memories are kind of foamy, but I'm pretty sure after that I did some charity, supported the troops and saved Darfur. Or destroyed Darfur. Whatever it is that we're doing over there, I did it. Planted trees or whatever." "Sounds very admirable," Detective Dale said. Miranda cleared her throat, a noise I'm slowly growing to hate. "I have a statement here from a Ms. Wanda Wolinsky, the sister to a former Cracked employee." I stared up to the sky, as if I was thinking really hard, perusing my own memory. "Mmmm... Nope, never saw her. Or Ross. Never heard of either one." "According to her statement-" "OK, yes, you bitch, I ran into Ross's sister.