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I finally put pen to paper, er fingers to keys and participated as a writer instead of a judge (I’ve judged twice) for the Mid-week Blues-buster hosted by Jeff Tsuruoka at his blog The Tsuruoka Files.

The rules loosely; song prompt (story doesn’t have to have anything to do with the song, its just for inspiration) a slushy 500 words.

So here’s my attempt. The tune is… “Another Nail in My Heart”, by Squeeze“.


Last Rabbit Standing


“As scenes go, this one is pretty high on the puke scale.” I glanced to the 25 pound sledge hammer leaning against the wall. An 8 inch railroad nail piggy backed another in the center of the deadman’s chest. Blood pooled in the indentation. Maggots crawled in and out of a half-gone face. The stench of rotting flesh clogged at my throat and I did my best to ignore the bile in the back of it.

When my parter walked up beside me, I pointed to the corpse.

“Neat trick,” Sam said before toeing the hammer. “Our guy?”

Guy was a misnomer and we both new it, but the vernacular was correct. The note left at the first scene claimed Mother Nature was our perp. The news reporters had ran with the name and based on their sexist views, deemed the murderer a dame. We knew he had balls as big as a beach ball and what little DNA we’d collect confirmed male.

“Appears so.” Kneeling beside what was left of Old Man Winter, I touched the nail head.

“How’d he burry the second into the first railroad nail without smashing the body into putrified liquefaction?”

“Split like an arrow,” I mused. “Mother nature really has lost her sense of humor.”

“As if he ever had one.” Sam snorted. “We’re down Old Man Winter, Jack Frost, and the Sandman. Who’s next, Heat Miser?”

I chuckled, but the rising temperature wasn’t laughable.

Sam reached into his suit coat for a crumpled pack of Camels. He lit the cancer stick as the coroner lumbered over.

I watched in silence as the she rolled the body onto his back and after several photographs, removed the nail. She looked at me.

I asked, “Death by stabbing?”

She shook her head. “Chemical electrocution. Like the others.”

I tapped my foot as the tech’s loaded Winter. Once the meat wagon drove off I voiced my opinion. “I think it’s Peter. He’s been miffed since the Sox lost to the Yankees.”

“Cottontail, why?” Sam looked dubious. “And Blaming Mother?”

I hadn’t worked out all the details yet. I said nothing.


3 O’clock and I was sweating like Porky. If we didn’t catch this guy and lost one more cold character, I was going to need an ice bath. I stepped onto the smoking deck and knew I’d been wrong. I couldn’t see him, but I sensed Harvey stood only a pace away.

“I came to turn myself in,” the six-foot invisible rabbit said from the rhododendrons.

I reached into my back pocket for my handcuffs. “You killed Mother’s favorites.”

“I was going to be the coup de gras.”

“Why frame Mother?”

“She said I’d never measure up to Father Time, wasn’t as opaque as Jack, and lacked the stamina of the Sandman.”

“You’re not opaque at all,” I pointed out.

He grunted.

“Eliminating the competition. I thought you had more substance.”

“What I had was love, now Elwood’s with Mother and no one sees me.”

I watched as the patrolman covered Harvey with a sheet and led him away. When Sam offered me a lit one, I took it.

After a long drag I offered my final summation, “They say there’s three reasons for murder, I think there’s only one. Mash anyway you like, but sex, love, and money, always boils down to a dame.”


Mine was not the only story so take a gander over and read the rest.