The Case of the Greengrocers' Apostrophe's
This started as one joke and half a page. Then I added another joke. The first joke stopped working, so I took it out and was back to one. It’s still awkward, but you have to quit some time. The title has nothing to do with the story.
‘Yes, Mr. Deane’, he said, his bow tie wabbling beneath his mutton-chops, dewlaps, and flews. ‘Those “in the know” were limited to a select few: you, Harry, and I. But, as you may know, three can keep a secret only if two of them are dead. And the total is still wrong by one!’ He produced, like a stage-magician, an enormous horse-pistol.
When the ringing had stopped in my ears, I stood and dropped my revolver into my coat pocket, without replacing the spent cartridges. I next stepped to the door, placed my grey Homburg topper on my bonce, and reached for the door-latch.
Then I turned back and, with both feeling and velocity, addressed my toe-cap several times to the back of his head. ‘It’s you, Harry, and me, you pitiable solecist. You, Harry, and me!’
Thus ended The Case of the Greengrocers’ Apostrophe’s.
Next: The Case of the Overextended Metaphor