I've been provided a column to answer all of your, ah, your sex questions, which I'm really excited to do.
Read MoreThe Occasional's Audio Book Series: Tuesdays With Morrie
Listen to more from the The Occasional's Audio Book Series:
Sex Advice From An Uncomfortable Guy Who's Afraid Of Sex And Blows It Every Time (Volume 4)
I've been provided a column to answer all of your, ah, your sex questions, which I'm really excited to do.
Read MorePotential Daydreams For A Weak Teenage Boy
Weak teenagers spend much of their days in school daydreaming. Sometimes, however, one may find himself daydreaming the same scenarios over and over, and grown a little tired of it. Well, here are some new daydreams to get you through the rest of high school, college, and, let’s face it, life.
Read MoreA Gentleman’s Guide To Becoming A Supervillain
When running your lucrative business, it is imperative to maintain certain societal standards. The same rules apply when running the world.
Read MoreWomen Are the Real Heroes
Women can have babies, while all men can do is fire a few sperm into the vagina. Women house the place where a sperm penetrates an egg and creates a zygote — the beginnings of human life. Men have a penis and two balls that hold the ammo for the penis to squirt.
Read MoreAn Obituary for a Paparazzo
Nicky was a professional photographer of celebrities and esteemed public figures, capturing them in a more candid nature as they simply lived their lives.
Read MoreSex Advice From An Uncomfortable Guy Who's Afraid Of Sex And Blows It Every Time (Volume 3)
Hi! I'm Dr. Sex Man
I've been provided a column to answer all of your, ah, your sex questions, which I'm really excited to do. The questions below have been provided by actual readers. If we didn't get to yours in this round, stay tuned, and as always, keep the questions coming to drsexman@funnyordie.com.
Dear Dr. Sex Man,
I've been dating my girlfriend for years. Her dad wants me to propose. Should I do this while "doing it"?
— Doer From Dover
No. I tried it once. I was having, you know, sex, with this girl I liked and I wanted to marry her and I said, “Will you marry me,” but the only thing that she heard was “Mary,” because I was thrusting and out of breath and probably drooling. Anyway, Her name was Claire, not Mary, and she got really mad. A second later I tried to propose again but by that time she was in the bathroom cleaning herself up, and she thought I proposed to my flaccid, um, you know, my penis. She left because I blew it.
Dear Dr. Sex Man,
Dear Dr. Sex Man,
I love my boyfriend very much, but I'm a very sexual person and love to please. Unfortunately, my boyfriend’s is 55 going on 56 and I’m 47. We only have sex once a week, if that. His testosterone levels are extremely low and I've suggested he see another doctor since the current doc feels like a man his age shouldn't be having a lot of sex. What should I do? Also, how can get I him to go down on me nicely without his "EGO" getting hurt? Sexual conversation is not an easy convo with him. HELP!!!!!!
— Sexually Frustrated 47-Year-Old sent from my iPad
Oh, man, that’s great that you have a boyfriend at that age! And I guess it’s also great that you are still having, you know, sex. I’m hoping that when I reach that age I will no longer hyperventilate when the word "sex" is even mentioned out loud in a PG-13 movie.
But wait a second, he has a doctor who doesn’t think a man his age should be having a lot of sex? Is that something doctors say? Will he have a heart attack? I usually trust doctors, because they tell me when I've swallowed too many coins or when I can start lifting houseplants again, but this sounds strange. Sex is something to be feared because it is terribly frightening and embarrassing and I blow it all the time, not because it is unhealthy.
If you are competing with the doctor, maybe you need to turn your boyfriend on in more ways. Why not try incorporating something men of his age are into? Dressing up like a boat, or barbecue, perhaps? Maybe temporary tattoo the New York Times crossword on your back or tummy? This sounds weird; I think I’m blowing it right now.
As for your final question of many, Ms. My iPad, I would suggest yelling “Keep Going!” while he is going, you know, downtown on you. That way his EGO will be more encouraged than intimidated. Just don’t yell, “You look so funny from up here,” “Is your tongue made of uncooked bacon?”, or “Leaning against a purring cat is more effective than this.” All of those will make him feel bad, and you’ll blow it.
Hi Dr. Sex Man,
I was wondering: why do men like it when girls arch their backs during doggy style? And which is better, when a girl is on her hands and knees, or on her elbows and knees?
— Doggy-Gone from Des Moines
Holy Moly. Okay, so doggy style is when you are, you know, having sex with a girl, and the man is standing or he’s on his knees, right? And the girl is on all fours, er, she’s pretending to be a table. So the guy is having sex with the girl pretending to be a table, right, and you’re asking why men like it when girls arch their backs during that time? I’m going to assume you mean arch the back down, like a ‘U’ shape, right? And men like it more? They do? I guess since I’ve only had sex with a girl while she was in that kind of table-pretending position one time, I don’t have an opinion, personally. I’m not sure if she did anything with her back, to be honest, because I couldn’t stop thinking about tables, and that she was a table, and then I pictured a coffee table book on her back and then I thought how that’s a mean thought because coffee table books are so heavy, and then I thought how hard it would be to balance a cup of juice on her back, and that makes her a bad table, and then I thought it’s weird to think of a girl you like as a bad table, so I blew that one.
Maybe guys like the arched back because then the girl doesn’t remind them of tables so much? So if we are sticking to this table logic, maybe being on the elbows and knees is a more-preferable position, because then you won’t look anything like a table, ladies. Not even close.
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History's Dumbest Theories About the Moon
As long as there have been idiots, there have been idiot theories about the moon: what it’s made of, what exists on its surface, and who, if anyone, might live there. Here are some of our favorite theories of the moon over the ages.
Albino Stingray Moon - 400 A.D.
A group of nomadic tribes on the island of Papua New Guinea were convinced the moon was an active mass of albino stingrays. As the story goes, an albino stingray was found on the ground one day during a full moon, and this one guy, Alvin, said that it must have fallen from the moon, and everyone just kind of went with it. Historians believe Alvin was the member of the tribe who would test mushrooms to see if they were okay to eat.
Forest Moon - 1780 A.D.
Celebrated amateur astronomer William Herschel used his homemade telescopes to discover the planet Uranus and thousands of binary star systems. Hershel was also able to observe the most detailed views of the moon in human history, and concluded the moon was covered in vast forests of trees, which is really dumb. Upon hearing this theory, the Royal Society of London went outside to double check that whole Uranus thing.
Moon Blankets - 1840 A.D.
As pioneers crossed the Great Plains along the Oregon Trail, many scientists were amongst them, and had unprecedented, clear views of the night sky. From there they believed the moon was covered in blankets. Aliens would picnic on the moon, romantically stare up at the Earth, and smooch tentacles. Historians believe these “scientists" were probably cold, ridden with typhoid fever, and were testing out any new mushrooms they came across.
Hollow Spacecraft Moon - 1893 A.D.
After the Industrial Revolution, many thought that the moon was actually a giant hollow spacecraft. Star Wars is actually a satire making fun of all those idiots.
Cigar Moon - 1919 A.D.
A bunch of smoking ding dongs also thought the moon was covered in cigars and cigar ash. Cigars are so good they had to have come from a place not on this Earth, they would say with smoke coming out of their mouths at the dinner table. This way of thinking was so popular, in fact, it is why to this very day rich idiots call cigars “Moon’s gift to man.”
Moon of Ants - 1930 A.D.
As entomological studies increased, experts began to understand that ants could live in nearly every type of environment. So why not the moon? The large craters could be nothing more than colonies run amuck, right? Bug nerds from across the world hoped it to be true, but it’s not.
The Spilled Milkshake Moon - 1955 A.D.
As milkshakes grew in popularity, so too did the theory that milkshakes were the reason the moon was two shades of vanilla and chocolate. After the owner of a soda shoppe presented his thoughts to the Royal Society, he was immediately shot. The shooter turned out to be an extremist Cigar Mooner, attempting to quell the growing Milkshake Movement.
Moon of Melted City Snow - 1968 A.D.
Astronaut Neil Armstrong was personally convinced that the moon was made of a mix of white snow and a shitty, dark, city snow that is half-melted, full of trash and suspicious-looking dirt. He held onto the City Snow Theory until he took his first step on the moon. Disappointed, Armstrong begrudgingly said, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind,” instead of his originally planned phrase, “I fuckin’ knew it was snow!”
Illustrated & Animated by Natasha Federova
An Excerpt From The Script "A Living Inspiration," By Michael Jordan
The Occasional is pleased to present an excerpt from the draft of a screenplay about Hall of Fame basketball legend Michael Jordan, written by Michael Jordan himself! Entitled A Living Inspiration, the discovered pages appear to be from his personal copy, as it contains editing notes written in his handwriting. Enjoy!
Click or drag page edges below to read the script
A Gentleman’s Guide To Sleeping With Another Gentleman’s Wife
When sleeping with your wife, it is imperative to maintain certain societal standards. The same rules apply when sleeping with the wife
of a fellow gentleman.
- By keeping your eyes open at social functions and reputable soirees, locate the married woman you most desire to sleep with in a secretive manner.
- Introduce yourself to the woman and let it be known through heavy flirtation, arm touching, and eyebrow raising that you are interested in the ultimate transgression.
- Send the woman a formal request to engage in an affair via handwritten letter, candy gram, or tasteful dick pic.
- Have your secretary inform the woman’s gentleman-husband that you are sleeping with his wife and request that he not be present for the intercourse.
- If he inquires about the availability of your own wife, let him know if she is currently seeing any other gentlemen, and if she has an adequate schedule to participate in an affair of her own.
- Meet the woman and her servant at a prearranged location, often a hotel.
- Have your servants undress you in front of each other, placing your clothes neatly on the hotel bed. Take a moment to stare at each other’s naked bodies, taking in the sight of the forbidden flesh.
- Consume an alcoholic beverage, so as to either lessen or heighten any remaining feelings of guilt.
- Using an abrasive pumice stone, have your servants vigorously scrub you and the woman’s skin, ensuring any and all lingering skin flakes of married partners has been removed.
- Inform servants they may retire to the hotel bathroom until you have completed your act of indiscretion.
- Stand atop the bed. Hold each other’s hands and say, “We shall now engage in a sexual act of indecency. May our bodies be free and our hearts intoxicated in the spirit of betrayal.”
- Screw like vodka-addled rabbits.
- Smoke a cigarette. Call your wife and ask her if she needs anything from the grocery store. She will understand this to mean you have just ejaculated into the vagina of another woman, and she should not expect sexual intercourse for the next ten hours.
- Instruct your servant to call the front desk and have the maids informed that sexual fluids have been released upon the mattress.
- If you wish to continue the affair, have your secretary let the woman know in a detailed sexual message, highlighting future acts you would enjoy completing with her as well as emphasizing how much you enjoyed her company.
- Return to work and remind your servant that if he or she says anything they are fired and you will ruin them.
LEARN MORE ABOUT BEING A GENTLEMAN:
Sex Advice From An Uncomfortable Guy Who's Afraid Of Sex And Blows It Every Time (Volume 2)
Hi! I'm Dr. Sex Man
I've been provided a column to answer all of your, ah, your sex questions, which I'm really excited to do. The questions below have been provided by actual readers. If we didn't get to yours in this round, stay tuned, and as always, keep the questions coming to drsexman@funnyordie.com.
Dear Dr. Sex Man,
I adore my boyfriend, but whenever he goes "downtown," if you know what I mean, he seems a little lost and confused, and my mind starts to wander more toward ‘should I start washing the dishes tonight or can I leave them until tomorrow?’ What can I do to help him on his way a bit?
— Pantieless from Portland
Okay, wow, so you are a woman and you aren’t wearing panties, and you are writing to me. Holy crap, that’s great. And you have a boyfriend, too? Great. Are you wearing pants, or just crotchless? Sorry that’s insensitive and none of my business.
First off, I would just do the dishes first. You’re going to think about them no matter how much pleasure you are having, because, let’s face it, they ain’t going anywhere!
So the dishes are done, you’re on a bed, or on the floor, maybe, and your guy is going “downtown,” you know, um, licking your vagina with the goal of inducing pleasure, and you are not into it. How is he blowing it? Sometimes I blow it by just drooling and coughing a whole ton. Sometimes I’m all lips and forget to use my tongue at all. Also sometimes I have bad breath and I worry that you’ll be able to sense my bad breath through your vagina and you’ll be turned off. Is that a thing? Also, once, when I had a cold, I wasn’t thinking and I blew my nose into a woman’s vaginal hole. What’s weird is that she liked it, but I couldn’t repeat it and I just ended up making a bunch of honking noises.
Sorry, so, you want to help him out. Personally, I like it a lot when a woman tells me what to do, because then there’s less a chance of me blowing it. Tell him what you like and what you don’t like. Say, “Do that more,” or, “Move over there,” or, “Try that. Yeah, like that." Just don’t scream those commands or say them in a deep man voice. That will scare a man right out of your vagina, and you’ll blow it. I’ve done that before, but, you know, in reverse. I screamed “TOO TOOTHY” once and before I knew it, I was alone in my room, staring at my plant, boxer brief–less and without pants on, too.
Dear Dr. Sex Man,
I want to ask my partner if he would be into me fucking him. What's a good way to go about that?
— Strap-On Sally from Lawrence, KS
Heh heh, oh jeeze. Wow. That’s a loaded one. There’s A LOT GOING ON in this question. So, you, um, you want to, uh, “fuck," your man? And I take it from your name, Strap-On Sally, you are a girl? So to, uh, fuck your man you would, um, holy crap, you would put a short stick, or dildo, up his, um, you know, his butt? Wow.
But your question is how to ask your partner for permission to do this? Okay, well, I don’t have any experience in this, but I guess I would try and be honest. First I would sit him down and say, "I like sex, but I would rather do sex to you, and mainly to your butt.” Then I guess I would say, “I want to explore your, um, your butt, with, you know, a long, penis-shaped device that I would buy or fashion out of what’s lying around the house.” Then I would pick up a, um, I don’t know, say you have a long candle sitting there, I would pick up the candle and say, “Like, take this candle. I promise I won’t light the candle, but I would like to pretend this candle is a, you know, a big long penis, and I would like to kind of push it in and out of your butt, if that’s okay. I don’t know for how long … um, until something happens, I guess. Maybe until the candle melts?”
You know what, it’s starting to feel like I would blow this conversation. Maybe just get him drunk, throw the fake penis on, and say, “Is this gonna happen or what?” Holy crap, that sounds bad, too. Good luck.
Dear Dr. Sex Man,
When I'm having sex with my boyfriend, he says he wants me to moan more ... Be louder ... But I don't feel comfortable ... Or sexy ... Being loud ... What do you think? Should I just let it all out like he wants and risk feeling stupid?
— Whispering in Wisconsin
Whoa, okay, so I think that’s great. You are having sex already, and now it’s just about tweaks. Well, I say let it out. It just depends what you are moaning. Whatever you do, don’t loudly moan the following words or phrases while you are, you know, having sex (trust me):
“Frog people, froooooog people.”
“Tooo muchhhhhh sooooouuup.”
“Buckets of belts and plenty of welts.”
“2003 Mitsubishi Ecccccclipse.”
“Is this an Eye Store?”
“Imprrrregnate, imprrrrrregnate.”
“Looose Fleshhhh.”
“Penis Tuggers.”
“Burgle me. Burgle meeeee.”
The Lost Journal Entries of Lewis & Clark
On their expedition, explorers Meriwether Lewis and William Clark famously detailed their journey. Below are never-before-seen entries, as well as actual pages from their journals.
Some rain this morning. Wind along the northwest. Walked along shore with the Indian chief and interpreters. Saw buffalo, elk, and great numbers of goats. Our hunters and Captain Clark returned with bountiful kills.
Captain Lewis, 20 October 1804
Great numbers of buffalo, elk, deer, and goats. Our hunters killed 10 deer and a goat today, and I personally wounded a bear. I saw several fresh tracks of those animals, which are three times as large as a man’s track. The wind hard all day from the N.E. and E. The bear was wearing pants, by the way, which was peculiar.
Captain Clark, 20 October 1804.
Camped on the east side of the river with the Mandan village south two miles above. The hunters killed a buffalo bull. They say out of about 300 buffalo they did not see one cow. I asked the hunters if they remembered the bear wearing pants, and they did not recall. They told me they had never seen a bear wearing pants before, at least in that geographical area.
Captain Clark, 21 October 1804
A lot of rain. I thought I saw a bear wearing pants but did not. Was the whole encounter a dream?
Captain Clark, 12 November 1804
Yesterday as I was alone near a pasture, with rocky embankments to the south, I spotted a large bear wearing pants. Having recently mistaken a pantsless bear for a bear in pants, I wanted to ensure my eyes were not tricked by the light, and fired a shot from my rifle into the air. The bear in pants looked at me, seemed to provide a glance I can only describe as annoyed, and disappeared over the outcropping. My shot gathered the attention of other crewmembers, though by the time they reached my position the bear in pants had disappeared.
Captain Clark, 16 December 1804
Today we met with the chief. After trading blue beads for a fine sea otter pelt — the likes of which we had not yet encountered on our trip — I politely asked the chief, a wise man, if there were any stories of bears in pants. Communicating the phrase “bear in pants” proved to be considerably difficult, and I did not ever receive a clear answer from the chief, though we did end up exchanging pants as part of a trade. I do believe, however, that in describing our path in the days ahead, there was a brief mention of a bear, and I swear I saw the chief point at my pants.
Captain Clark, 15 February, 1805
This morning I witnessed before God two bears in pants pawing for fish in the river. They were upright, and would wipe their paws on their pants. Once again, however, I was alone. Confident in the existence of bears wearing pants, I immediately went to confide in Lewis.
Captain Clark, 13 March, 1805
Rain today. Creating shelter took considerable time and left us all feeling quite poorly, forced to spend much of the day in damp clothes with a sour demeanor. In the early morning, Captain Clark mentioned something to me about a bear in pants. I entertained his bizarre wonderments until he completed his tales, upon which time I told him not to bring it up anymore unless we see one.
Captain Lewis, 13 March, 1805
Rain continued through the night and next day. Moved camp further into forest, hoping to find drier conditions. Yesterday Lewis advised me on the bear-in-pants situation. I believe he’s interested in the find. He told me not to inform the rest of our crew, surely in that he and I may be solely credited for the discovery.
Captain Clark, 14 March, 1805
Woke up in middle of the night. Went outside my tent and immediately came upon a bear in pants doing some sort of jig and waving at me. I rushed to a nearby tent to wake someone up but the bear in pants ran away on two legs before anyone else could see it.
The next morning I brought the episode up to the entire crew. The bear in pants was met with laughter from some, concern from others. Lewis seemed irked at my outburst, no doubt because he wanted the bear in pants to be more “our thing.”
Captain Clark, 4 October 1805
Two members of our crew secured and shot down a bear with pants! Finally we may dissect the bear and hope to ascertain why this bear wears pants, how it comes to secure the pants, and where these bears may originate.
I have just been informed that the pants were actually put on the bear after its killing. Humorous prank, indeed. The crew continues to do impressions of my reaction and sprint to my journal.
Captain Clark, 10 October 1805
Tonight we dined on the meat of a bear. Crew spirits have never been so high.
Captain Lewis, 10 October 1805
It has been one month and three days since my last sighting of a bear in pants, though I remain hopeful that the entire crew shall see one before our return. Hope is a full meal that shall be my everlasting nourishment. Also we made it to the Pacific Ocean today.
Captain Clark, 7 November 1805
Great joy in camp. We are in view of the ocean, this great Pacific Ocean — which we have been so long anxious to see — and the roaring noise made by the waves breaking on the rocky shores (as I suppose) may be heard distinctly. I can’t believe Clark was not more excited to see the Pacific. He kept looking back at the woods and sighing.
Captain Lewis, 7 November 1805
Today I found a note. In crude writing it reads, “TeL No 1,” and was signed “Pantbearrs.” To me this was the surest proof of their existence and remarkable intelligence.
Out of fear and the desire to win over the faiths of my peer, I showed it to Lewis anyway, and he remarked that he is quite worried about me.
Captain Clark, Fort Clatsop, 15 January, 1806.
Clark is now fabricating notes from the bears in pants. He must miss home more than I can say.
Captain Lewis, Fort Clatsop, 15 January, 1806
Saw a regular bear with everyone this morning. I brought up the fact that it could have just taken its pants off earlier. A bear doesn’t need to be wearing pants all the time. This was met with silence and private whispers.
Captain Clark, 16 February, 1806.
Left some pants near a den of bears. Have proceeded to watch it for three days whilst we await improved weather. Bears have not gone for the pants yet. Also found another note reading ‘Pantbearrs luv ur SUFFURRING.’ I shall keep this note to myself.
Captain Clark, 21 February, 1806
Found Clark writing a note with his offhand, to look like the writings of a bear in pants no doubt. I’ve informed Captain Clark that he is on his last straw. If he does not desist with this bears and pants nonsense immediately he will not meet Jefferson.
Captain Lewis, 22 February, 1806
I’ve decided to drop the whole bear-in-pants thing. I must have let the stresses of the long and grueling journey get to me in a peculiar way. No more.
One more thing. I did spot this lovely crow today.
Captain Clark, 22 February, 1806
Illustrated by Gregor Louden
Sex Advice From An Uncomfortable Guy Who's Afraid Of Sex And Blows It Every Time
Hi! I'm Dr. Sex Man
I've been provided a column to answer all of your, ah, your sex questions, which I'm really excited to do. If you have a, you know, a sex question, feel free to email me at drsexman@funnyordie.com. I'm here to help!
Dear Dr. Sex Man,
My girlfriend wants me to rub her chest but doesn't want me to touch her nipples. Is this weird?
- Nipless in Nebraska
Wow, okay, I guess we’re jumping right in to nipples. Well, first off, that’s awesome that you have a girlfriend. That probably means you can kiss her all the time and she won’t get mad, unless she's in a meeting or something. Also I imagine you guys get to do a lot of activities together that aren’t even sexual. Just, like, spend time together. That’s great.
Full disclosure: the last time a woman told me she wanted me to touch her chest I kind of freaked out and said, “Okay, let me wash my hands first because I was eating a lot of peanut butter earlier, and I don’t want to get any on your tix.”
I blew it in a lot of ways there. First, don’t go wash your hands unless you know they are covered in a bad disease. Second, don’t even bring up peanut butter if you know what’s good for you, and third, don’t call tits ‘tix.’ They won’t like it. Also don’t call them ‘Brauts.' I know that kind of sounds like breasts but it’s really more like a sausage, which is another word for, you know, your um, your penis.
So there you are, rubbing her chest, with desire and permission and everything, which is great, but she doesn’t want you to touch her nipples. I don’t know, that’s pretty standard for me, especially since my hands are often covered in peanut butter or worm guts (I fish).
If your hands are free of nut butters and she’s still not into it, have you asked her why yet? Maybe if it hurts her or something (I know my nipples hurt a lot, but that’s from my work pals giving me twisters whenever I jam the puzzle cutter) you could try coming at the nipples from a different angle. Try pushing them in like an elevator button, even say something dirty like “69th floor, please.” Oh! Maybe try throwing some thick leather gloves on and then touching the nipples. That’s all I got. I hope you don’t blow this.
Dear Dr. Sex Man,
I’m a woman who is uncertain how to move when I am on top. Do you have technique advice?
- Straddling in St. Louis
Oh my God. First off, it’s awesome that you would even email me. I can’t believe this. This is great. Okay, let’s jump in, sorry. So, when you are on top, you say? So that means you’re already having sex. That’s juicy stuff.
So there you are, having sex, on top of a guy, and you’re probably naked, and that’s, you know, that’s great. But now you’re wondering how to move around up there. Well, this one time I had sex once, and I was on top. I would get tired and fall across the body of the woman I was plowing love into. I got a cramp and, trying to get off, dug my elbows into her rib cage, which made her scream in pain. I thought that was an orgasm, so then I orgasmed, and then it was over. I blew it big time there. Just don’t do that.
I think as long as you’re not flailing your arms all over the place and sticking your fingers in his nose, you should be okay. Another thing to avoid is holding your stomach and saying, “Too much soup.” I learned that the hard way.
Dear Dr. Sex Man,
How can I tell that my girlfriend really had an orgasm during sex?
- Anxious in Arkansas
MAN, I wish you didn't ask this, because I really blew this one recently. I had, you know, sex, I think, and I finished fast and got worried she didn't, um, orgasm, so I accidentally yelled "ORGASM, YOU DID?" right in her ear, in a shrill Yoda voice. Then I started sneezing, and I couldn't stop. I sneezed all over her until she left. Then I cried a lot.
So I think just live life hoping she did, because there's too much room to blow it.
The Police Report That Inspired ‘Clue’
It's a little known fact, but the famous murder-mystery game, Clue, was inspired by real events. Below is the police report from that fateful night.
POLICE REPORT
JUNE 09, 1954
ELLINGTON POLICE DEPARTMENT
LOCATION: BODDY MANSION OFF ROUTE 41
OFFICERS ON DUTY: OFFICER MICHAEL SHIFF, OFFICER GEORGE
9:37 p.m. - Officer George and I were clanking our police batons on the jail-cell bars when Ellington station received an emergency call from the Boddy Mansion. There was a quick male cry of “Hel-“ and then the phone cut off. Since there’s no Helen in the office, we figured he must have said “Hello” or “Help.” Either way we were bored so went to go check it out because we’d heard great things about Mr. Boddy’s billiard room.
10:15 p.m. - We arrive at the mansion. It is only one floor and has no roof, which seems strange but, hey, who are we to knock mansion construction?
10:20 p.m. - We knock on the door. It was answered by a Professor Plum. Inside stood five other people. All of them had names that had to do with some sort of color, except Mrs. Peacock, who was simply a Jew.
10:30 p.m - The group led us to the lounge, where, laying on the sofa, was the body of Boddy. It was dark so we couldn’t tell how he died. Boddy’s body had obviously been moved as well. So we needed to figure out who killed the guy, in what room, and with what weapon. It may take all night. Good thing we brought a sack of cheeseburgers.
10:40 p.m. - Based on the holes in the body, Officer George and I, the experts that we are, narrowed the cause of death down to either rope, dagger, revolver, candlestick, wrench, or lead pipe. We ruled out belt, kitchen knives, pots, pans, a sharp chair, a pillow, poison, burning fire log, lamp, umbrella, heavy boot, sofa, bed post, a 24-pack of crayons, a telephone, a huge ax, bare hands, and a big thick nail.
10:47 p.m. - Officer George thinks the corpse's holes look like rope holes, but I think they look like candlestick holes. What we both agreed on was that Miss Scarlett was pretty and kind of a bitch. We liked that.
10:55 p.m. - Everyone started making accusations. It was getting out of hand, so we decided to institute some rules: You could only accuse someone in the room where they thought the murder happened. The problem then was we were all in different rooms yelling stuff.
11:03 p.m. - I put a candle in one of Boddy’s body holes, lit it, and said, “Hey look, human candle.” Everyone laughed at that really hard. We had a good time.
11:07 p.m. - This guy named Mustard says he knows who did it and he was ready to make a formal accusation. He says it was the bitch (Miss Scarlett) in the billiard room with the candlestick. He picked up a manila envelope, looked inside, and said that he was right.
11:09 p.m. - All the info we needed was in the manila envelope, apparently. There was a picture of Miss Scarlett, a picture of a candlestick, and a picture of a billiard room — utterly damning evidence. Scarlett crumbled to the ground, knowing she’d been caught. She admitted the whole thing.
11:15 p.m. - We booked her, threw her in the back of the squad car, and threw the body in the garbage. Then we realized we needed that body, so we threw that in the back of the squad car, too. Then we drove back to the station. On the way we all came up with a great board game idea: You put these boats all over a map, then someone guesses where they are with pegs. You’re trying to “sink” the boats. We’re calling it BattlePegs, and we’re all pretty excited about it.
A Gentleman’s Guide To Murdering Another Gentleman
When inviting another gentleman to your country club, it is imperative
to maintain certain societal standards. The same rules apply when
inviting him to meet his maker.
- Have your secretaries set up a round of golf at your country club, and politely inform the gentleman of his impending murder.
- Let the country club know of your plans to murder a guest, and request that the standard, brand-name burying tools be reserved for your use.
- Meet the gentleman at the practice green. Shake hands and let him know your decision to murder him was difficult and unfortunate.
- On the 4th hole, casually inform the man that he shall be murdered on the back nine in case he has any business transactions to complete or family to notify.
- On the back nine, keep an eye out for a quiet, pleasant area to kill the gentleman. Avoid sand bunkers so as not to get sand all over the grass and create more work for club staff.
- Having settled on an appropriate location, find a treed area to change into your killing clothes. Allow the victim to change into his victim clothes that you have provided.
- Allow golfers behind you to play through.
- Cover the grass in a sheet or tarp so as to avoid grass stains.
- You are now ready to murder. Approach the man, bow, and say, “May you either dance in the fields of Heaven or find comforting warmth in the fires of Hell."
- If there are any golfers behind you, allow them to play through.
- With the coast clear, or at least manageable, grab your victim's neck, with the pinkies thrust outward. Squeeze. Squeeze until you feel the rush of love and anger and confusion and fear drain out of him, and his body is nothing more than an finely-dressed, empty vessel.
- Light a cigarette. Take a long, deep drag. Stare at the gentleman’s lifeless face. Take out your phone, make the call, and say, "It's done."
- Extinguish the cigarette and dispose of it into a nearby receptacle. Wrap the body in the blanket that was on the ground. Take out the burying tools from your cart.
- Allow any waiting members to play through.
- Having ensured the burying spot is not in the fairway or green, dig a hole, taking breaks every ten minutes to reduce the presence of sweat.
- Pull the body into the hole. So as to alleviate the smell of decomposition, drizzle a solution of herbs and scented oils onto carcass.
- Fill hole with dirt and replace divot.
- Change back into club-appropriate attire and finish your round of golf. Remember not to let the possible stress of killing another human being affect your handicap.