Bitch on the Blog

January 4, 2012


Filed under: Fairy Tales — bitchontheblog @ 19:10


Since all of you will have been buried by an avalanche of good wishes for the barely out of its shell 2012 I shall not add further to your burden. May we all have the same conversations in about 50 weeks’ time again.

This minute I need input: “Shoestring Murder”. Anything come to mind?

Don’t give me Velcro.




  1. Shoestring Murder? Find suitable type and put them in a compromising situation…collect evidence and then black-mail them to commit the murder…shouldn’t cost too much! I am beyond blackmail BTW ‘cos “Frankly my dear I don’t give a damn”

    Mind you when i saw the title laced I did have a momentary idea of corsets!

    Comment by magpie11 — January 4, 2012 @ 20:13 | Reply

    • I’d seriously advise against blackmail as a means of making a living or others doing your dirty work.

      It might work in the short term till the blackmailed has got his wits about him again. Then fear will turn to anger. And anger predictably will lead to murder (of the blackmailer). Which reminds me of that film (black and white, can’t remember the title) where two strangers meet and “swap” murders, each doing the other’s dirty deed. Since neither of them would have a motive their logic being that they’d (literally) get away with murder. I can’t remember the ending now, but have gut feeling it went all pear shaped. At least for one of them.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 5, 2012 @ 09:18 | Reply

  2. An unfortunate end to a pair of impish mice skittering about in a shoe store warehouse. The Cat was away and the mice started to play. It was ugly.

    Comment by Lorna's Voice — January 4, 2012 @ 22:54 | Reply

    • Well, Lorna, it might be time to report you for animal cruelty.

      Clever plot though: The verdict would most definitely be “death by misfortune” rather than that of downright murder: What with the cat “away” the mice hanging themselves. Sweet.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 5, 2012 @ 09:24 | Reply

  3. ““Shoestring Murder”. Anything come to mind?”

    A psychopath on the back porch with a shoestring and a cat with one less lives.

    Comment by Looney — January 5, 2012 @ 05:23 | Reply

    • Thanks, Looney, my mind is now doing double somersaults trying to imagine your scenario. I need an end: Was it the cat’s last life? If not where is the shoe string now? What colour was it? Did the psychopath tie himself into knots at the futility of his attempt to try and string a cat along or tie it to the back porch’s hammock or rocking chair? At least we’ve got the motive cleared up since psychopaths can’t be held responsible for their actions. Thank god for small mercies.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — January 5, 2012 @ 09:34 | Reply

      • I was thinking of an episode one type ending in preparation for episode two. At this point I don’t want to put too many restraints on your creativity.

        Comment by Looney — January 5, 2012 @ 14:26 | Reply

  4. Along the lines of a who-dunnit-gumshoe detective novel:

    He arrived at the scene, well after the police had already started questioning everyone in sight. He took the quieter track, looking around for clues. Her closet spoke style; designer dresses, smart tops, and a collection of shoes that would make most women green with envy. Peep-toe pumps, sling back pumps, stylish laced sandals, flats, spiked heels, boots, just about everything a woman could desire. And yet, not a single shoe that had laces. The clothing however hinted at a tall yet slender figure, someone who might be in great shape. No athletic shoes?

    The sound of heels approaching broke his train of thought. “What are you doing in here, detective?”

    He turned to look, and was immediately disarmed by her stunning good looks. “Searching for clues ma’am.”

    “Well, the murder took place in the living room. You may want to look there first.”

    He eyed her from top to bottom. Impeccably groomed hair, styled, not a hair out of place, beautiful alabaster skin, no sign of scratches, perfectly manicured nails, with no visible sign of wear or chips. The dress clung well around her slender curves and had no wrinkles; clearly not a sign of someone who might have been involved in a struggle, let alone a strangling. He was drawn to her eyes. Those eyes – they had a magnetic pull to them. And her voice had a charming but commanding sense of suggestion, one that, coupled with those great looks might cause others to simply comply with any request. She was a woman who had the looks that implied she could get her way anytime and anywhere. Her lover had just been murdered, yet she seemed strangely composed. All his instincts were focused on this Femme Fatale.

    “You’re right ma’am. Well, if you’ll excuse me for the moment, I need to talk with the officers on the scene. Can we talk later?”

    “Of course detective. I am not going anywhere.” She gave him a look that both sent a wave of excitement and a frightful chill through his body.

    [to be continued…]

    Hey! That was fun now.

    Comment by Phil — January 6, 2012 @ 14:16 | Reply

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