Murder in the Great Hall

[Sionnach]

Sionnach, looking into his glass of single malt, mutters under his breath-Darn, does mean we're not going to get dinner?!

[Weasel Mender]

The Kaptain is DOWN!!!!!!!!!!!

"GUN" Ens. Mender shouts and makes a flying leap towards Panache

[The F-H.C.A.G.]

Sigh

Here he goes again. Why, oh why, does this man keep trying to die on me?!

Tango anyone?

Be well,

[starbkjrus]

Oh Brother! Here go Mr. Panache's theatric throes again.

Well, perhaps as long and there is a pause I'll just drop by the drinks table and then maybe I'll don a nice Flat Cap and ask that lovely F-H.C.A.G. to dance.

Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! ARLEN! SPASM! Would you PLEASE get Mr. Tibbles a snack?!?! He's chomping on my brogues again!. Honestly!

Oh wait...now where did Mr. Splash go? Oh, my. Mr. Dove seems to have assumed his identity. Most odd.

I think I'll just run by the drinks table one more time. I see Ms. Pleater there. I hope she can give me some advice on this awkward third kilt strap.

[Coemgen]

Coemgen stares wide eyed in a dazed stupour at the spot on the floor formerly occupied by Panache. He then slowly gazes at the half empty bottle in his hand. He thrusts it away with extreme haste, hitting Spasm upside the head.

Yechth!

He wanders off in a bit of a daze, muttering

Never again, mate, never again. Bloody upper classes must be messing with the recipe. Adding some bloody fungus or something. I swear I'll never touch the stuff again long as I live. &%$@$^%$ rich hippies. Bloody …

[Pleater]

Ah well at least I have an excuse to gaze at - er - oh yes, that third strap - hmm - excuse my hands. Ah yes - its Pythagoras. Easy mistake to make - you see, Dee, the slant of the apron edge is a hypotenuse, longer than the same distance on the grain. Tha angle is all wrong too. I have a formula to work out the necessary rotation of the strap and buckle with respect to the line of the cloth taking into account the difference in measherements....

There's an awful lot of running around and shouting going on out there.

You don't supose it is anything really serious do you?

[davedove]

END CHATTER

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[davedove]

I returned to the dining room and raised my hands to quiet the excited murmuring of the guests.

"Everyone, I am sad to say that Mr. Panache has been murdered, poisoned by someone here."

I walked over to retrieve the remains of Jamie's fallen glass. I carefully brought it to my nose and sniffed.

"Just as I thought, it smells of almonds. That can only mean one thing. Someone put cyanide into his drink.

[Livingston]

WHAT?!? There is absolutely no way anyone here would do that to Jamie. This is preposterous!

[davedove]

“I tell you, I was trained as a medic and I know that Mr. Panache was poisoned with cyanide. The tell-tale almond smell gives it away as the murder weapon. Plus, he was foaming at the mouth."

"I also clearly heard him say ‘Someone wants me dead!’ just before he died. Dead men don’t lie.”