“I would like to announce,” DC said with pride,” the submitter of this photo and challenge. The Muffin Man!”
“And don’t forget,” the Muffin Man said. “You must only tell your story in dialogue.”
“No narration! Only dialogue!”
“I accept your challenge!”
The Mystery Letter:
“And where are you going with that letter may I ask?” Sir Watkins said.
“Oh,” Mr. Tingle replied, “to… my study! Yes, my study. It is a personal letter for me of great import.”
“You’ve been collecting a lot of letters, Mr. Tingle.”
“Why, so I have.”
“A lot more than you usually do. Are you sweating?”
“No!” Mr. Tingle said. “Of course I’m not. It’s slightly damp in this room is all. I must be going now.”
“If I may, Mr. Tingle,” Sir Watkins said, “I’ve never actually seen your name on one of these letters. You take them from the post before anyone gets a chance to look for their name. It couldn’t be that the letters you are carrying about do not belong to you… or is that the case?”
“It most certainly is not the case,” Mr. Tingled replied. “Goodbye now.”
“What’s that sound?” Sir Watkins asked. “It sounds like sirens. It is a siren! Look now, out on the road. It must the police still looking for Lady Macy. She disappeared two weeks ago, you know.”
“Oh yes, I know,” Mr. Tingle said.
“They say she left without a trace. No packing. No goodbyes. But she continues to contact the police through letters. She tells them she has run away to elope. I wonder why they don’t believe her.”
“No idea,” Mr. Tingle said.
“Of course,” Sir Watkins added, “it is rather strange that she has stayed in such constant contact with them after running away. Her letters seem like they are trying to convince the police that she had run away. It’s almost as if…”
“Almost as if what?”
“Well, it’s almost as if her letters have been forged. What if Lady Macy has actually perished, or been stolen, and the criminal has been pretending to be her through letters so the police won’t suspect?”
“That is a fine idea,” Mr. Tingle said.
“A fine idea? A horrible idea!” Sir Watkins countered. “What a criminal that would be. He would have to intercept every letter, working day and night to cover his own tracks. Just listen to those sirens, Mr. Tingle. They’re rounding the corner. They might even be coming here. Why would they be coming here?”
“I don’t know,” Mr. Tingle replied. “Why don’t you go have a look through the window?”
“I will indeed. Yes, there they are. Not even four blocks away. Mr. Tingle, I don’t suppose they could be here to see you? You have been acting awfully suspicious.”
“Yes you ha-AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH……”
“There, there, Sir Watkins,” Mr. Tingle said. “The fall itself will kill you; no need to worry about the landing. Now, I just need to sneak out and send Lady Macy’s final letter…”