The Case the Cat Dragged In: The Forum Follies go to London

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rose

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The New Scotland Yard Superintendent Barry Godsanswertowomen, known to his close friends as simply "Barry G", (or, to some of his friends, as the "G" Man) was a ladies man, that was pretty much undisputed. In fact, his entire office staff were handy in that department. His hypochondriacal but dependable Sergeant P. Zoo, and Detectives Peter, Phil and Glenn, were all proud to serve in the almost famous "Bod Squad".

Their lives were best summed up as ones consumed by cat and mouse games. But, under their enigmatic exteriors, they were men of many dimensions.

... However, the adventure you are about to share, started not by a security leak, an assassination, or even a missing classified file.

It all started with a woman, a cocktail, and a cat.
 

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Scotland Yard Sgt P. Zoo had been having difficulty breathing without sneezing in his London flat ever since that lady in the red dress moved into the adjoining flat 2 months ago. She also had cats - 2 of them! The sgt. referred to them as Stinky and Stinkier!

It had been a tiresome, long day at the "Yard" and Sgt. P. Zoo (his mates called him "PZ" for short) was just settling into his flat at 8:42pm. The moment he stepped foot in the building, like clockwork, his sneezing started. He had made up his mind that after checking his post, he'd leave and head to the local pub where he could eat and enjoy a bevy or two, sneeze-free.

There was a small amount of mail in his post box, mostly adverts and the letter he had been waiting for from the health clinic. The doctors and nurses at the clinic knew PZ all too well and new that he was usually all too well for his many and varied reasons for his visits with them. On his last visit, the sergeant had demanded to be tested for allergies, specifically for cats.

Zoo opened the letter from the clinic and it was as he had expected, news confirming his cat causing allergy. Off to the pub for some steak and ale! Tomorrow, he would spend time in the sauna, he thought.
 
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Detectives Peter, Phil and Glen were in the bowels of Scotland Yard where the hidden body shop kept waiting for bodies, arguing about who would need to wait for the bench press. Barry Godsanswertowomen was on the Elliptical Trainer being trained well... and Sargeant Peaberry Zoo was in the sauna relaxing. His muscle tone was, er, highly toned. Or tuned, as it were.

Lights on the walls began to flash. Oh, dang, thought Peter. He'd missed his time on the bench press and here they were all being summoned for an emergency meeting.
 
Senior superintendant Annie had called the meeting of the Bob squad, as a strange development had occurred at the local pub they all frequent. The bar cat had disappeared. It was last seen lurking in the front bar, snaking its body around the patrons, like it liked to do.

Now it was gone.

The "G" man wondered why his squad was called to the emergency meeting as they hurried up the stairs. Perhaps there has been an assassination, or the crown jewels had been stolen. All will be reviled he thought as they entered the room.
 
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In the Chief Inspector's office on the 13th floor of Scotland Yard headquarters the new Chief Inspector, Ann Iris Rose (A.I.R.) Head was inspecting the detectives in front of her.

In some ways she was impressed, their muscle tone was impressive, their case solving record was exemplary, their suits were acceptable but she wondered how they would take to working for her. She had just been been appointed to the job after leaving her former position as Doctor Who's faithful companion, a job she loved but one that had too many time conflicts with her home life.

"Well gentlemen, it appears as if we have another animal case to deal with" Chief Inspector Head stated. "After your recent success finding Her Majesty's favourite Corgi, Spot, this cat case should be no problem to solve"

"I agree ma'am, the case of the missing corgi was very difficult especially when the Queen considered that dog to be more valuable than the crown jewels" said inspector Barry G " She was so grateful for his return that she renamed him Barry G Spot and tells everyone that I helped her find her G Spot"

At this Sgt P. Zoo started sneezing as he thought about his allergies .....
 
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Sgt P. Zoo sat through the mission briefing feeling most uncomfortable with this assignment, for a variety of reasons. His body started to convulse with widespread twitching and muscle spasms. Add to that, the sneezing. Did someone have cat hair on their suite?
 
A.I.R. Head paused as Sgt. P. Zoo continued his gyrations accompanied by sneezing without end. As PZ realized there was silence in the room, he remembered that relaxing always helped the twitch/spasm/sneeze episodes to settle down, and deliberately relaxed beginning with his left big toe.

"Gentlemen", said Head. "MI-5 want us to help them with the cat case. I'd like you to meet their Spook, Rose Ida Dunne, who will be leading this investigation, and I know you will have no trouble following her lead. Ms. RID, these are your men."

At the back of the room in a dark corner, Rose stood up and nodded to them... and slowly began to undulate. G-Man's eyes were fixed on her, as were the eyes of all members of the Bob Squad. Rose began the slide to the front of the room, as all necks were beginning to hurt badly due to the twisting involved.

She spoke in a low smokey voice, "Men, we have a case that began with a cat." Seeing the faces of G-Man as well as PZ looking downcast, she understood immediately that these men had no interest in cats. "But, not only a cat. Not an average cat, but one having strange abilities." She paused. "This is what happened...."
 
...meanwhile, in a nameless dark alley in London's seedier side, was a tall dark twisted criminal with weak hands, a cat allergy, and a mind operating on a different wavelength from most around him. He was thinking,"Blimey, it's getting hard to wipe my bum - I'd gladly pay a pound for a hiney wash"...
 
"As I said, this is not your run of the alley, pain in the ass, jump on your jewels feline" continued Rose "this is a very special cat, with a very special ability to predict the future. His name is Prognostikitty and he doesn't actually tell the future himself but if he deigns to sit on your lap and you stroke him the right way you will get a vision of your future."

"Wow, that is amazing!" exclaimed the G Man "All I have ever gotten from stroking a pussy is a lot of noisy protests and scratches"

Sgt PZ and Detective Peter were both obviously very taken with the mysterious MI5 agent and her strange tail (oops, I meant tale) and her strange cat-like undulations.

"Gentlemen, please, if we could focus on the case" interjected Head "We know that the last time Prognostikitty was seen he was rubbing up against the legs of twisted looking individual as he headed to the loo.

"We'll get right on it" said Detective Peter "Sounds like a trip to the pub is in order"

"You always think a trip to the pub is in order" said PZ
 
Just a note of accuracy (yeah, right, like it matters LOL) I originally wrote the Bod squad, not Bob squad.... just in case someone is puzzled who Bob is....
 
Detectives Phil and Glen spoke at once, "We'll go and sit silently at the Pub." But Ms. RID, aka Rose, aka R. I. Dunne, refused, realizing that four detectives were overkill. She quickly said that Glen needed to check out the loo in the bowels of the building and see if Prognostikitty was hiding there. As soon as Glen left the room, she quickly purred to Phil (she realized of course that he liked cats) that she had a different job for him.

"There's a mole in the building and I need you to hunt for it." Phil quickly thought to himself that Ms. RID would be better hunting moles than he, but also realized it would be unwise to say so.

"Actually, we have our own mole looking like a shabby bum who's looking for a Hiney Wash, and he knows who the mole is here in The Yard. MI-5's used him for years. The name is Tom, and your job is to find him and get the mole's name. Be careful. Tom is also a hardened criminal. But he knows his cats. As well as moles, of course. You're dismissed."

The Bod Squad had dispersed.
 
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The pub’s name was “My Brothers Place” – an old gag to help keep cops honest when they had to skip out on kids birthday parties and visits from in-laws. When the crew entered the bar, Brother was concentrating on some invisible stain on the counter while listening to T.R. Fogart explain the intricacies of good old fashion cop footwork. Fogart was a retired veteran of the Yard and now a private dick. He had been around the block a few times. He knew his stuff. His friends called him Fogey. Brother and Fogey were friends, and Brother knew that when cases got cold, Fogey was the go-to man. But as Brother wiped the counter silently he was thinking, ask Fogey what time it is, and he tells you how to make a watch.

Brothers was a cop bar and everybody liked it that way. Often, the place was full of cop groupies and wanna-be cops. The crew straggled in and flopped down at the counter. Brother knew what they drank, but the ritual was to ask.

“What’ll it be?” Brother dead-panned.
 
Betty Bogart walked through the doors while Brother listened to the Bod Squad joke. Sgt. PZ rolled his eyes as Peter reminded Brother they were cops on duty, not cops looking for a drink.

"So, two milks, then?" Detective Peter gagged slightly and asked for a coffee, and a chocolate chip muffin if he had them. Brother got a milk for Sgt. P Zoo, added a pop tart, then noticed Betty who'd slid next to Fogey with her famous smile. She nodded to Brother who poured her a glass of wine. Brother knew Betty was good for business and the one wife welcome at the bar. Fogey was one lucky man.
 
Detective Peter sat back in his chair, enjoying the coffee and chocolate chip muffin.

His mind drifted back to a time gone by where he worked in a bakery and had an endless supply of muffins. He was so far back that he missed all what was going on at the bar and only snapped back to the present when PZ asked him for the second time if he caught the aroma of the cocktail that the women in the red dress had ordered.

What red dress replied Peter, I saw nothing, nothing at all.

Well get your mind back here and concentrate on the case because it had the distinct smell of a well known liquor but not the colour of it. Now I wonder if it is relevant to the case or not, chipped in Fogey.

Back at headquarters Glen had finished checking the bowels for Prognostikitty and not finding any sign of “the cat”, headed back upstairs to find out what to do next.
 
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Phil was in the dark. Literally. How was he to find their mole, Tom, in the seedier side of London. And, he desperately needed to pee. If only he was in a car... But wait! There was a Gent's on the corner labeled "Hiney Wash". He'd make a quick detour.

PZ sidled over to the woman with the red dress on. Yes, Frangelico! and the hazelnut was enticing. Sgt. P Zoo suddenly had a violent sneeze, causing his arm to spasm and crack the woman on her back, resulting in the drink leaving her hand, flipping into the air, then falling with the liqueur onto her red dress. Suddenly a cat jumped into the air on her other side.

She jumped out of her barstool, turned to face the sargeant and with an odd accent began to pitch a hissy fit. PZ knew what they were from having watched "Gone with the Wind", and was very impressed. She ended with the words, "And I'm fixin to kill y'alls cat!"

Brother stood transfixed behind the counter.
 
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