Wordzzle 95 - The Penultimate Episode!

Yes, that's right: Maggie's journey is nearly at an end, so you can expect some surprise revalations and plot resolutions over the next week or so

Thanks to everyone for staying tuned throughout - I hope you will join me again next week for the final installation.

As usual the rules are simple. Every week the magnificent Raven at http://ravensviews.blogspot.com/ sets us a total of fifteen words, ten for a standard challenge, five for a mini or all fifteen for a mega - which words we have to encorporate as sneakily as possible into our story.

This week I would like to add additional thanks to the chap sitting next to me at the library who has apparently never learned to read without talking at the same time and nearly got a smack round the head with my umbrella as a result.

Words for 10-word challenge: alternate reality, shadows, frantic, tomatoes, field, lilies, DVD, snow mobile, aggravation, music

And for the mini: grounds for divorce, pink panther, salutations, wavering, lasagne

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WEEK FOURTEEN, PENZANCE

NEWS AT TEN, THURSDAY 14TH JANUARY 2010

NEWSREADER: ...with four elks and a whippet.

Police are continuing to refuse to confirm whether the elderly lady they took into custody late Wednesday evening is Margaret Mills, the semi-retired B&B owner who went missing fourteen weeks ago. The as yet unidentified lady was taken into custody following what the Police describe as an altercation with a snow mobile driver just outside of Penzance.

Despite the Police’s refusal to name the lady in question several members of the Margaret Mills Liberation Front are already performing a twenty-four hour vigil outside the station. The President of the MMLF, Mr Derek Kincade said, ‘Anyone who thinks that Mrs Mills can be guilty of any of the accusations laid against her is clearly from an alternate reality and deserves to have their brain pan-fried in garlic.

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POLICE INTERVIEW ROOM, THURSDAY 14TH JANUARY.

PERSONS PRESENT

MARGARET MILLS (HEREAFTER REFERED TO AS “MILLS”)

DETECTIVE SERGENT CLAY (DS CLAY)

DETECTIVE INSPECTOR SHARP (DI SHARP)

DI SHARP: The time is 8:15am

MILLS: It’s a fair cop, governor, you got me banged to rights and no mistake

DI SHARP: I’m sorry?

MILLS: Well, ain’t that what you’re supposed to say?

DS CLAY: Mrs Mills...please...

MILLS: Oh call me Mags dear and don’t go bothering with all that formal nonsense. Ain’t nobody that calls me Mrs Mills apart from me bank manager and he’s on the fiddle

DI SHARP: Mrs Mills...

MILLS: Not that it’s for me to say, mind you, but it ain’t right how he mucks about with Elsie Smith from number forty three. It’s grounds for divorce if you ask me.

DI SHARP: What we would like to ask you, Mrs Mills, is about the contents of the package given to you by Mr Trevor Stanley at the Casbah Club

MILLS: Who? Oh you mean Tosser? He’s a nice enough lad really. Did you know he was a champion Shot-putter at school? Oh yes, he won quite a few rewards for track and field: that were until he hefted a javelin at Mr Wavering the headmaster. After that they never let him near anything sharper than a pencil.

DI SHARP: Mrs Mills, your friend “Tosser” has a criminal record as long as the extended DVD collection of “The Lord Of The Rings”, including a reputation for causing aggravation wherever he goes. Now we know that he worked for Mandala Pharmaceuticals and failed to turn up for work the day after forty kilos of heroin was taken from their offices and has not been seen since

MILLS: Don’t be stupid! Tosser didn’t vanish, he were sacked on account of how he forgot to water the genetically enhanced tomatoes. Last time I heard from him he were saying as to how he were hoping to concentrate on his music career from now on – you know, his band “Woe Is Me”

DS CLAY: And yet he failed to turn up for rehearsals

MILLS: Well I’m not sure as to how I’d know anything about that, on account of the fact that I’ve been travelling for fifteen weeks. I only know what Spud has told me

DS CLAY: Spud?

MILLS: Not that I think much of the band, I have to say – sounds like someone scraping the side of a house with a spatula if you ask me. Give me Cliff Richard and the Shadows any day.

DI SHARP: For the benefit of the tape Mrs Mills was referring to Bernard Maris, also known as Spud, who works at her Bed & Breakfast establishment in...

MILLS: I don’t suppose there’s even half a chance of a cuppa tea? I’m right thirsty after all this talking – don’t forget that I ain’t had no one to talk to for fifteen weeks, so I might have gone a bit mental in the process

DI SHARP: Mrs Mills – we’ve taken a look at your journey so far. You’ve had us on quite a frantic search and seem to have left a trail of devastation in your path

MILLS: Well if I have then it were no fault of mine.

DS CLAY: Wilful destruction of property, namely a selection of Harry Potter audio books

MILLS: I said I were sorry about that on the day – it were an accident

DS CLAY: Two counts of assault on a marine biologist...

MILLS: I were trying to save the daft buggers life the first time

DS CLAY: Taking without payment, destruction of a memorial

MILLS: Look, me mobility scooter slipped on the ice – there were no way I could have avoided them lilies

DI SHARP: The list goes on, Mrs Mills

MILLS: Well? Are you going to charge me with any of them or are you just going to sit there making out you’re in a pink panther flick all day?

DI CLAY: We can’t answer that question at the moment Mrs Mills. We just need to know where Trevor Stanley is and what you’ve done with the drugs

MILLS: Drugs? What drugs? The only drugs I ever carry is a bottle of Vicks Vapo-rub for me chest

DI SHARP: The ones that your friend Mr Stanley stole from Mandala Pharmaceuticals. The ones he gave you in the Casbah Club: the ones you’ve been selling to fund your little trip across the country

MILLS: (LAUGHS) Is that what you think I’ve been doing all this time? You daft buggers: I’d be surprised if you have a brain cell between you

DI SHARP: OK Mrs Mills, we give up: tell me: what have you been doing all this time?

MILLS: Fetch me a lovely cuppa tea and I’ll think about it…

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Dear Spud

I’m right sorry to say that I can’t write you a long letter this week, on account of how the bleedin desk sergeant won’t let me out of his sight with a pen in case I stab him with it or some such nonsense.

I’m at Penzance Police Station waiting whilst the daft buggers check the contents of that jar Tosser gave me. They won’t even let me stay in a hotel, which I think is bloody madness: I mean, they’ve taken me mobility scooter and collapsing zimmer frame, so exactly where do they think I’m going to go?

Anyway, see if you can’t make it down here pronto, can’t you? There’s a woman in the next cell whose promised to make me her bitch if I get sent down. I told her I had no bloody idea what she were talking about, but if she talked to me like that again then I’d show her the back of me hand and no mistake.

Mags

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TEXT FROM BERNARD “SPUD” MARIS TO MARGARET MILLS

Mags

Ave they let u ave ur fone? Ope sew

Tried ringin u, but polize sed u were incommuni-mikado and he wud pass on me salutations

Dont no wot that meens, think e were takin the piss

PS: Denise not happy, coz we gritted the drive wiv the last of her lasagne: so we shud b down 2 penzanze 4 u soon, weathr permitting

Spud