Poems, Short Stories, and Other Random Stuff

Something Less Serious 1

John Doe was an excellent corpse. Some might say he was born to wear a body bag. There was just something about anonymity of it, the way it covered the mass of red, black, and purple covering his back, legs, and, indeed, his derrière.

Detective Bronner stood in the morgue next to poor Mr. Doe, wondering what the bloody hail could be in the woods that could leave a man looking he was ran over by three school buses and then hit with a sledge hammer a few times for good measure. As she gave voice to this hum-dinger of a quandary, an intern opened the door and placed fresh cup of coffee on a convenient table next to the door.
"Report just came in. It was a moose."

Detective Bronner turned her head toward the intern, raising an eyebrow.
"A moose? Really?"

The intern stared back at her, then nodded solemnly. "Don't f#ck with a moose." He then shut the door, turned, walked face first into the door, backed up, open the door, walked out the room, then closed the door behind himself.

Bronner let out a long sigh. "Don't f#ck with a moose, indeed."

As riveting as staring at Mr. Doe's corpse might be, Jenny Bronner was ready to be done for the evening. The only reason why a detective such as herself would be staring at a corpse at 8:40 on a Friday night was due to a string of disappearances and strange deaths in the normally quiet little town of Sleepy Hollow. Even the name sounded like a retirement community. Just as she reached for the bag's zipper to cover poor Mr. Doe back up, Bronner saw something drop to the floor out of the corner of her eye.

Bronner squinted at the little spec near her feet. "A pumpkin seed?" Crouching, she retrieved the little slimy thing. The mortician would have a fit if Bronner left any sort of rubbish behind. "I swear to Pac-Man, if the interns have using the morgue for some sort of pre-Halloween rager they better hope I catch them before Elias does. Kids these days."

TBC