And they were off! With recent leads on their new suspect, Gary the P's senile grandfather who resides at the Sweet Holy Moses Retirement Center for the Dying Folk, or SHMRCFTDF for short (pronounced Shmuh-rec-fit-deff), Gary the P and Calara were about a mile (1.6 km) (1600 meters) (1,600,000 centimeters) from their new suspect, Gary the P's senile grandfather who resides at the Sweet Holy Moses Retirement Center for the Dying Folk.
The sun was setting at an angle that was not so directly in Gary the P's eyes so as to hinder his already poor driving abilities, yet not so high as to cast a shadow of his AMC Eagle on the road he was traveling on at 82 mph. There was a breeze that suggested wind was traveling from an area of higher pressure to an area of lower pressure, but this is irrelevant, because our protagonists were in a car.
"Calara, I want to talk to you about something." Gary the P moaned in desperation as he stared at
her with one eye half closed and the other half open.
"Uh oh," Calara thought to herself. "He probably wants to talk about going out with me... I mean, he's my friend. And he obviously has a thing for me. But his mental abilities are comparable to a burnt potato. And he smells like regular potatoes... And that face he's making at me right now, it's legitimately frightening... But I don't want to hurt his feelings... What should I say? Should I play this off like it's nothing? Should I act like Amy Smart's character in Just Friends, starring Amy Smart and Ryan Reynolds? You know what, I enjoyed that movie. It's charming, and demonstrates how flawless Amy Smart's everything is. Sure it's not all that funny, but the plot can be centric around the relationship and it's boundaries and not entirely focused on the fact that it's a romcom..."
Said Calara, "Joooooooooorrrrf."
Said Gary the P, "Anyway, have you ever wondered what the capital of Canada is? I mean, does it even have one?"
Calara sighed in relief for eighteen seconds . "It's Ottowa. No one's ever 'wondered' that."
"Ah. Well, agree to disagree, I suppose." Gary the P finally broke his gaze at Calara and continued focusing on the road.
They finally arrived at the retirement center after Gary the P chose the wrong place and time to test the "if you keep turning left, you'll get to where you need to" theory that usually applies to corn mazes. They rushed through the doors, knocking over a potted plant, picture frame, and sufferer of rabies.
"We need to speak to Hubert Cumber!" Gary the P shouted at the receptionist.
"Excuse me?" The receptionist said with a look of utter bewilderment, and Gary the P realized he had been speaking in Croatian.
"We need to speak to my grandfather, Hubert!" Gary the P said in a more appropriate language.
"Hubert Cumber?" The receptionist asked.
"Yes! He's my first suspect in a murder!" Gary the P spake.
"Son, your grandfather passed away fifteen years ago..." she said compassionately.
Gary the P, however, took this news joyfully. "Do you know what this means, Calarara?! We've eliminated one suspect! We're making some serious progress!"
"I'm worried for your future, Gary the P," she said.
"What do we do now, though? None of the mayors are answering their phones, and they're in serious danger!"
"I guess... we'll just have to go there ourselves." Calara said eagerly.
"Where to first?" Gary the P quizzed Calara.
"If I roll a 1 or 2, Estacada. 3 or 4, Phoenix. 5 or 6, Springfield." she said as she whipped out the six sided die she always kept tucked in her shoe.
She tossed the die as high as she could in the air, but it hit the ceiling, bounced off the spinning fan, and punctured an elderly woman's right kidney.
"Estacada it is, then!" Gary the P exclaimed.
"Please leave now." the receptionist barked.
TO BE CONTINUED BY JAKE "BOBBLE SHOES" SMITH