Macaroni and Truth

He sat hunched over a plate at his usual booth in the old, dingy diner, ignoring the sludge they called coffee and picking at his pie.

 

He knew that he had missed something, somewhere. Some vital clue that could have solved the whole thing and brought the guilty to justice, if only he had seen it.

 

So he sat there for an hour, his warm pie getting cold, his cold whipped cream melting into a sad, soggy pool of missed opportunity, and his coffee slowly turning back into the thick mud it had come from. So deep was he in his reverie that he did not notice the waitress standing over him until a plate brimming with molten gold slid under his dejected nose.

 

“I’m just not hungry today Rose,” he excused apologetically, motioning toward the pile of goo already on his table as he raised his eyes for the first time.

 

“Have some macaroni Officer Holtzberg,” a soft, southern belle accent insisted. Clearly, this crystal colored cutie was not his usual wise-cracking tanned yankee waitress. “Macaroni helps you think,” she insisted, setting the plate down with a decided clank. “It can help you FIND whatever it is that you’ve been sitting here trying to remember for the past hour.”

 

“Thank you, but I’m just not in an eating type mood right now,” Officer Daniel Holtzberg glanced down regretfully at the pile of soaking noodles in front of him. “It does look really good, maybe some other time though.”

 

His excuses and apologies fell on deaf ears though for his mysterious maven of macaroni had melted away when his eyes were turned.

 

Sighing and turning back to his table, the despondent officer worked up enough curiosity to half-heartedly plunge his fork into the pile. If nothing else, it gave the pie a break.

 

She had been right about the macaroni helping him. As his fork slid through the noodles, the tongs hit something much harder than expected, and definitely not made of cheesy goodness. He brushed the top layer of macaroni away and discovered what seemed to be a hard plastic storage container. Through the visible, clear sides Officer Holtzberg was able to identify photographs of his perpetrator, folded ledger pages, and inexplicably, something wrapped in plastic that looked like a dyed blue rabbit’s foot.

THIS WAS IT!!!

He leapt to his feet with a very manly squeal of excitement and ran to the kitchen. Snatching up the biggest plastic baggie he could find, Officer Dan yelled out an order for grilled cheese and fries to go. Now that he had his evidence, the man was suddenly STARVING!

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