As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
His notes fly into cold air, and mount to the sky.
Sadly it ceased, no more music he said,
In addition to hands, it requires a head.
raced back into the safety
warmth of the house, slamming the door shut.
"What'cha doing dreams
?" he asked. "I thought I heard music."
"Oh WT Sharpe
" she wailed, "I'm so afraid ... and it was so quiet here ... by myself ... that I picked up your ukulele and tried to play it ... just to keep myself company."
"Listen! Can you hear them? The carolers are approaching! I wonder if everyone was able to make it? I asked everyone from the "Quiz
" and "Last person to post here wins!
"I wish poor pilotbob
, Dr. Drib
, Nate the great
, and DaleDe
could have been here to enjoy the carolers with us."
"Yes ... it's just the two of us now in the house" agreed WT Sharpe
"and logic would indicate that one of us is the murderer. And I know that I'm not a murderer."
"Neither am I" dreams
hastily interrupted "I've been framed! Over and over and over again. And I don't know why! I'd never ever want to hurt anybody. I even 'live-trap' and release spammers -- I never told Dr. Drib
this -- he wouldn't understand ... think I'm too soft to be a moderator."
She bowed her head again and listlessly plucked the wires.
PLUNK! PLUNK! PLINK! PLUNK! PLUNK!
looked down on her bowed head. Reason told him to protect himself, to take advantage of the moment and hit her over the head with a heavy object -- to save his own life! The murderer had progressed inexorably, eliminating the moderator team one by one ... employing hideous, painful methods. And he very much wanted to see Christmas day dawn.
But this was dreams
.... such a soft, kind, loveable person ... who had befriended him when he was 'the new moderator on the block' and helped cover up some of his more regrettable misuses of moderation powers. How could she be the heartless killer who had ruthlessly butchered the group tonight? How could he contemplate bashing her in the head and tying her up for the rest of the night? It would reduce him to her cold-blooded level of thought .....
As these thoughts raced through his head, his eyes raced around the room, searching for a suitable object to use to render dreams
unconscious for the rest of the night.
The sounds of the carolers grew louder as the festive group approached their house. He had to make a decision and act quickly .... before more innocent lives were placed in danger.
"Is that a motorcycle I hear? Stitchawl is joining the carolers? That must mean that everyone from "What's in your cup?
" will be coming too.
"Listen WT Sharpe
... they're almost here" exclaimed dreams
, strumming more loudly as if to attract their attention.
PLUNK! PLUNK! PLINK! PLUNK! PLUNK!
could stand it no longer .... "Here, give me that ... your tears will warp the soundboard ... and I never got a chance to tune it properly tonight ... it sounds awful!"
rudely grabbed the ukulele out of dreams'
small hands and dried it off with his shirt tail. Then, holding it tenderly near his face, he began to turn the tuning pegs as he plucked each string. "Here, let me show you how to tune a ukulele. I've been experimenting with low-G tuning."
He reached the last, thickest string, which was quite loose. He turned its tuning peg as hard as he could to draw up the slack. "You have to really crank on this peg for the low G string to stretch it, because it is wire-wound."
watched in horror as the thick wire flew off its tuning peg and neatly sliced through WT Sharpe
's neck! His smiling head remained for a moment balanced atop his neck, then rolled grinning onto the carpet, heading towards the fireplace.
This was too much to bear! dreams
fell over, onto WT Sharpe
's headless body, in a profound swoon. The weight of her body smashed the ukulele into splinters as she crashed onto the floor.
The carolers approached the lighted windows, but there was no one there to serve the punch and cookies. The house was dark.
[End of Episode 11]