Part 1 of 1
Read the full text, as well as the show notes, at http://flashpulp.com
Tonight, the Collective Detective investigates the lonely tragedy that was the death of CuddleMonkey.
The Skinner Co. Network
189 - Gag: a Collective Detective Chronicle, Part 1 of 1
[music] Welcome to FlashPulp, episode 189. Tonight, we present GAG, a collective detective chronicle, part one of one. This week's episodes are brought to you by Absolution. A priest, a half-demon, and some Germans walk into a bar. Find out more at http/www.scrivenerscircle.com. [music] Oh, no, no, no. [music] FlashPulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age. Three to ten minutes of fiction brought to you Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings. Tonight, the collective detective investigates the lonely tragedy that was the death of Cuddle Monkey. GAG, a collective detective chronicle, part one of one. Written by J.R.D. Skinner, Art and Narration by Opoponax, an audio produced by Jessica May. [music] On most occasions, Killer Croc, a six-month veteran of the collective, would have considered hand-holding a noob through the basics a waste of time, but this was a special instance. Cuddle Monkey got bigger, said the blinking chat window at the corner of his desktop. The evening previous, El Bo, his girlfriend of two weeks, had shared the half-decades worth of results turned up from the massive archive of internet activity, and her conclusion seemed a little self-evident to Croc. Caitlyn Powell was eight when the records start, and thirteen when she died. "She was growing right up till she keeled," he said. "Ha, no, Kyle. I mean her belly," replied El from the comfort of her own bedroom on the far side of the city. Croc found it odd to have anyone involved with the group address him by his given name, but he was pleased to have found her intrigued by the project that absorbed so many of his weekends. Still, he had yet to master a conversational tact. Fattening up could be a side of depression. My money remains on suicide. There was a pause in the conversation as both investigators flipped through the dead girls over-saturated Myspace photos. After a time, Kyle decided he ought to get his protégé back on track. We should probably start digging into Caitlyn's other traffic. "I'm actually browsing her Google history," he rubbed his chin. "Anything interesting?" Well, someone at her family's computer went searching for signs of pregnancy when July evening in 2005. She was at it for a couple of hours. The pals were a five-member family before the girl's death, only one of which had been male. Sipping at his doctor pepper, Croc wiggled his rolling chair and thought. "Yeah," he typed, "you're probably right. She was probably preggers. Maybe she was scared enough about it to kill herself?" El's own theory quickly followed. "What if she wanted to keep it and the boyfriend was pissed?" Hmm, she was found dead in the woods with the traces of oven cleaner in her gut. They never found the cleaner, or her panties. She might have been going commando, and she was rotting out there for two weeks. A lot could have happened in that time. They could have just missed the container. Or she could have been alive for a while after, and managed to stagger away from it. Kyle shrugged at the delay in response. He hustled upstairs to grab a bowl of chips. "I'm sure the cops would love to believe the same, but they filed it as a homicide," was waiting for him upon his return. The boy wiped Doritos dust onto the hem of his green lantern t-shirt before responding. "Yeah, but that's basically all they ever tell us about cases. Unless we ask nicely. And for good reason." And even then, they mostly say no. "When you've been a member of the collective as long as I have, you'll know that the 5-0 aren't perfect." "Uh-huh," she said. She'd included an emoticon with a protruding tongue at the end of her statement. Two hours later, they stumbled across a Yahoo questions account created early on the morning of the girl's disappearance, on an address associated with a laptop belonging to a friend of Caitlin's. The user had a single posting. "I'm 13 and I'm pregnant. I need a way to get an abortion. I love Jesus, and I don't want to. And I'm sorry, but I can't tell my dad 'cause he'll want me to hell. And I can't go to a medical place because they want you to have your parents fill out papers. Help, please!" The link had apparently been picked up by a forum of aggressive pro-lifers, and they'd come down hard on the girl. Most had simply told her not to do it, and that she should come clean with her parents. But there were those who went even further. Thirty responses into the thread came a suggestion from Mean Gene 59. "Choke down a can of easy-off and all your problems will be solved." After re-reading the comment twice, Kroc said, "Maybe she was desperate enough to seriously believe it." Elbow's thoughts arrived almost simultaneously. She was in the woods because she was looking for privacy. She was anticipating a mess. Kyle drummed the palms of his hands against the desk's edge as he read. "Finally," he asked. "Need any help submitting your findings?" "Nah, I'm good." He sipped at the last of his soda, then returned to typing. "There's nothing more we can do for the moment, and I feel like I need to see living people for a bit." My brother was saying there's a midway in the mall parking lot. Wanna go hang out? "Absolutely. I'll meet you there," was her immediate reply. FlashPulp is presented by FlashPulp.com and is released under the Canadian Creative Commons attribution non-commercial 2.5 license. Text and audio commentaries can be sent to skitter@skinner.fm or the voicemail line at 206-338-2792. But be aware that they may appear in a future flashcast. We'd also like to thank the Free Sound Project, found at freesound.org. For a full listing of effects used during the show, as well as credits for the users who provided them, please check this episode's notes at flashpulp.com. And thanks to you for listening. If you enjoyed the show, please tell your friends. ♪ ♪ Sunday is gloomy, my hours are stumbled ♪ ♪ Here is the shadows I live with are stumbled ♪ [MUSIC PLAYING] (dramatic music)