A Cheese Ball Under the Bed.

A Cheese Ball Under the Bed.

“ I don’t know how it got there. I ‘never’ eat in the bedroom; and I never eat ‘cheese balls’ full stop.

I wonder if they could get a fingerprint off of it? What with the advances in criminal detection techniques over the recent decades , you’d think that it would be a done deal. Then again, would the fingerprints of the eater of cheese puffs – apart from that one – be on a criminal database? He (or she – why must it always be assumed to be a ‘he’?) might be recognised from a line up by the orange tips of his (or her) fingers; but, they (we shall use ‘they’ from now on – it’s less problematical) they might have washed, or licked, away the evidence.

Perhaps I shall never know who the culprit was.

I mean, a Cheese Ball can’t last forever. This one is hardly likely to be the last remaining remnant of a midnight feast in the time of good Queen Victoria now, is it?

I have bagged the evidence, and swept the area thoroughly for any more clues. You may call me Hercule, if you wish – it’s not my name; but, if it pleases you, please do it.”

8 responses to “A Cheese Ball Under the Bed.

  1. or the cat, perhaps!

  2. Hmmmm 🙂 really you need to call Sherlock Holmes… Important points about this case,
    1) dogs are not allowed upstairs….
    2) you don’t buy cheese ball to home

    There is a hidden passing/door/hole in your house…
    or a ghost…

    …. ? almost a big question mark….
    Please let us know when it is solved..

    Thank you, Love, nia

  3. Could it be that you are not at home and the bed belongs to somewhere else?

    Somewhere with no dogs nor red herrings.

    Somewhere where cheese balls abound and bound and bounce under beds.

    I wonder…

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