Tasha was troubled. The Neon Lites were sitting on the twin beds of the hotel room formerly owned by the late Snerdly Slimebottom, all in various states of emotion. But Tasha was most troubled and disturbed by the events that had transpired. She had left her room so quickly that she was wearing lime green slippers with her bright purple baby dolls. The effect was appalling and Tasha was terribly distressed.

            Mollie was pacing. From out of nowhere, she had produced a Meerschaum Pipe and was now sucking on it. (She was also still green from her failed attempt to smoke it. Hamish had patiently unlocked and opened a window.)

            "Who do ye suppose done the lad in?" Craig inquired staring fixedly at the corpse.

            "Who'd want Snerdly dead?" Bruce asked looking at Mollie. Mollie looked at Craig, who looked at Hamish, who looked at Sparki, who looked at Bruce, who looked at Mollie, who looked at Tasha.

            "My slippers don't match my jammies!" Tasha wailed.

            Mollie groaned. "Who DIDN'T want him dead is the real question, "she said, sucking on the pipe and coughing. "We need to search the body for clues. Craig?"
            "I just play the fiddle," he stated. "I can play `Nearer My God To Thee' so that yer heart breaks, but I don't do body searches. Not on my resume."

            "Well it IS on mine, sweeties," simpered Bruce, "But I am NOT touching him…"

            "Tasha?"

            "Well, they sort of match in this light, right?" she pouted.

            "Like bogus. I guess I'll totally like have to do this most heinous job," Sparki grinned.

            "I am NOT helping," Hamish said stubbornly.

            Sparki produced rubber gloves and salad tongs and did a quick body search that produced a pocket computer (still on) and a pocket protector filled with ink and some nubby pencils with chewed erasers.

            "That's it, lassie," Hamish told Mollie. "The sum total of Snerdly's life, God rest his soul…"

            "Except!" Mollie exclaimed.

            "Except what?" The others cried on cue.

            "The credit card. Where's the limitless credit card? Snerdly never let it off his body because he knew we'd never touch it there!"

            "Like, no kidding," Sparki gagged.

            "So whoever has the card is the killer!" Hamish declared.

            "And another thing…" Mollie milked this for all it was worth." I believe THAT is Hamish's knife." The all turned and stared at the Bagpiper with suspicion.

            "So it was Hamish with a knife in the bedroom…" Sparki mumbled.

            "I…but…er…I mean…Craig, lad, surely you don't believe…lad, I'm like yer own brother!"

            "Aye," admitted Craig, "and me own brother is wanted for murder on five planets."

            "What about YOU then," Bruce came to Hamish's defense, hoping to win brownie points. "Maybe it runs in the family."
            "But my knife was missing when my sporran broke open…" Hamish remembered. "I picked up my dagger and my dubh, but not my carving knife. Someone else took it. Someone else wants to frame me. I still say whoever has the card killed Snerdly."

            "We can't keep suspecting each other - we have to figure it out." Mollie tried to maintain order.

            "But someone here is a killer. Someone is NOT who they say they are!" Bruce announced.

            "Like, does everyone here totally know who you are?" Sparki asked.

            "In the movies they always try to reenact the crime. Where was everyone when Snerdly was killed? I was sleeping…"

            "Alone?" asked Hamish.

            "Duh!" Tasha smirked.

            "As a matter of fact…no…so I am not guilty," Mollie said. The others stared at her in complete astonishment, too shocked to say anything. "But the rest of you. It could be any of YOU…we need to get to the bottom of this before someone else gets killed."

            "Killed?" came a familiar voice behind them. "Who's dead?"

            There stood Snerdly, adjusting his glasses with one hand and smoothing his greasy hair with the other. Tasha screamed. Bruce fainted.

            "But yer dead, man!" Hamish cried.

            "Like a most excellent dead man walking!" Sparki gave him two thumbs up.

            "Not dead." Said the voice at the door. They all turned to see Fluffy Winters, flanked by Pillow and a man too old to be a high school student and obviously badly cast in the role. "Undead."

            "Like what?" Sparki demanded.