The 9 to 6 Detective
It’s 5:30 on a Friday night. The 9 to 6 Detective is trying to figure out his latest case, but he has half an hour to punch out. Can he do it?
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(end of break)
“I just can’t figure this out,” the 9 to 6 Detective mutters to himself. He picks up a can of SuperEnergy and takes a sip.
A lightbulb flashes over his head. “Yes! That’s it!”
A cello crescendos ominously in the background.
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(end of break)
It’s 5:50. Everyone is gathered around the room. Suspicious Gal is there in handcuffs while The One You’d Least Suspect sits comfortably in the back. Everyone looks angrily at Suspicious Gal.
“Take the cuffs off her,” the 9 to 6 Detective says, drily. He looks disappointed, probably because she made fun of his work habits earlier in the show. He points at The One You’d Least Suspect.
“Look at his skin,” he says. “It’s dry and flaky. And the crime scene was–”
“In a dehumidifying chamber!” responds the Moustached Assistant in a Mercury-Laced Top Hat.
“That’s right. Take him away.” The One You’d Least Suspect grumbles as he’s put in cuffs. The entourage walks outside the building, and Suspicious Gal turns to face the 9 to 6 Detective.
“Thank you for saving me,” says Suspicious Gal. “And after I was so mean to you!”
“Oh, that’s okay,” the 9 to 6 Detective responds. “I’m just glad I solved the crime in time. It’s 6 o’clock now. Would you like to grab a drink?”
“I have somewhere to be actually,” Suspicious Gal responds as a car pulls up. She gets inside and rolls down the window.
“There’s just one more thing, Detective,” she says, as he walks up to the window.
“What’s that?” he asks.
“I use Moisturall!” The car’s wheels screech as it drives away.
“Damn you, weekend!” cries the 9 to 6 Detective, shaking his fist at the clock tower.
(to be continued)