The Koi Pond Murders, Part 1

“And the Guide said to me: ‘He wakes no more
This side the sound of the angelic trumpet;
When shall approach the hostile Potentate,

Each one shall find again his dismal tomb,
Shall reassume his flesh and his own figure,
Shall hear what through eternity re-echoes’."

Dante, Divine Comedy, Inferno: Canto VI
Source:

Narrative Voiceover:
Our mystery begins early one recent sweet morning, when Spring was holding her brightest smile still for the camera. The peace of the morning is suddenly shattered by a sudden cry! Startled birds spread the alarum! With a shriek rivaling a vintage 1940-something stunningly beautiful woman in peril, The Gardener does a (ladylike) spit-take of her morning iced coffee, fragrent with cardamom. Strolling through the outdoor patio to say good morning to the fishies, The Gardener is stunned to see a floater: a dead fish bloated and lounging sideways at the surface of the pond. There! Among the water lily leaves, algae blooms and torn netting. Not one. Not two. Three! Their blind eyes staring up into the deep blue morning of their Judgment Day.

“Tech Support Guy,” wails The Gardener, flinging aside her vintage collectible Dopey™ coffee mug, “There’s been a fish disaster!”

(Camera focuses on animated picture of Homo Simpsonien, falling to his knees, throwing his arms outstretched, beseeching the sky in an eternal reverberation. “NOOOOOoooooooo…” and continues to pan out from a crane shot, morphing through mapquest, to google, to google earth, to the universe, past Planet Express Ship, and vanishing into the infinite.)

The Tech Support Guy, in a deep voice, dripping with wisdom and speaking slowly with resignation and zen-like acceptance: Hell is the place where we remain on the earth that we created while we lived – only for eternity. The cries of those from within the inferno may echo eternally, but the lament of the living, when sending off the spirits of the dead, don't last all that long.

Narrator, in a country preacher chant of a voice: Our fallen heroes wake no more this side of the angelic trumpet. Who perpetrated this act of terror?

(Cut from animated universe to real picture of TH, swooning in TSG’s arms. Pan gently to a slowly waving American flag at half mast, reflected in the silent pond. Fade to black.)

(fin)