Previous Parts updated! Newer, Funnier And longer!

_{There is a behind the scenes page for this part here.}

Detective Nick Carter and the Big Bad Wolf found themselves at the house of the little pig who had built his home from sticks. The door was ajar, and an eerie quiet enveloped the area, a stark contrast to the chaos they had just fled. Nick’s senses were on high alert, the silence ringing as loudly as any alarm.

As the Peppermint Patrol approached, their candy armor clinking menacingly, Nick spotted a garden hose coiled nearby. With a quick motion, he grabbed it and turned on the water, aiming it at the advancing guards.

The effect was immediate. The guards screamed in horror as they began to melt under the spray, their peppermint armor dissolving like sugar in hot tea. “Looks like you boys can’t handle a little water!” the Wolf jeered with amusement.

All the guards scrambled away in a sticky mess, except for one who struggled in the grass, his peppermint body warping and twisting. “You’ll pay for this, Big Bad Wolf!” he shrieked. “I swear revenge!”

Nick, turning to the Wolf, asked incredulously, “What did you do to them?”

The Wolf, a sheepish look on his face, drawled, “Well, I might’ve snacked on a couple of ’em a while back. They’re surprisingly crunchy.”

Nick planted his face in his hands, the absurdity of the situation overwhelming him. “Candy guards… eating a candy guard… is that even murder… I long for the days of normal, mundane human crime.”

The Wolf chuckled, his humor undiminished by their bizarre circumstance. “Welcome to Storyland, Detective. It’s a whole different ballgame here.”

As the melted guard continued to mutter threats of revenge, Nick cautiously approached the stick house, the stillness of the scene belying the chaos they had just escaped. The door, slightly ajar, creaked ominously as he pushed it open. Inside, the house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that spoke volumes.

The Big Bad Wolf, standing just behind Nick, sniffed the air. The scent of blood and death was unmistakable, heavy and foreboding. Nick turned to him, his expression serious. “You know anything about this, Wolf?”

The Wolf, his Southern drawl tinged with a hint of defensiveness, shook his head. “Nothin’ more than what I told ya. Came here five days ago, lookin’ for a little piggy snack, and someone had already beaten me to it.”

Nick eyed him skeptically. “You been inside?”

After a moment’s hesitation, the Wolf admitted, “Yeah, I took a look around. Thought maybe there’d be some leftovers.”

“Wait here,” Nick instructed firmly, stepping into the house.

The interior was unsettlingly normal, except for the stench that hung in the air like a malevolent fog. In the living room, he found the pig’s clothes, neatly cut up and laid out on the floor. The precision was unnerving; there was no sign of forced entry or struggle, no blood – just the disconcertingly tidy arrangement of fabric.

But the kitchen told a different story. There, on the kitchen table, lay the rotting carcass of the pig, stripped of all its meat. Nick’s detective instincts kicked into overdrive as he examined the scene. The cuts on the carcass were precise, surgical almost – not the work of claws or teeth, but of a sharp, skilled instrument.

Stepping back, Nick murmured to himself, “Curiouser and curiouser…”

He returned to where the Wolf waited, his mind racing with questions and theories. This wasn’t the aftermath of a predatory feast; it was something far more sinister. Nick’s gaze met the Wolf’s, a mix of suspicion and contemplation in his eyes.

“We’ve got a real mystery on our hands, Mr. Wolf. And I have a feeling you’re more involved than you’re letting on.”

Nick eyed the Big Bad Wolf suspiciously, the air still heavy with the scent of death. “You sure you’re not involved in this, Wolf? This looks like more than just a hunt gone wrong.”

The Wolf, his Southern accent tinged with indignation, shot back, “Now, hold on there, detective. I may be starving, but I ain’t no butcher. I’m a predator, not a… precision cutter.”

Nick, unconvinced, leaned in. “You know, there’s good food in jail. Regular meals, no need to hunt.”

The Wolf’s eyes widened at the thought. “Well, when you put it like that… I reckon I’d prefer a jail cell to this starving business.”

Satisfied with the Wolf’s change of heart, Nick pulled out his phone and dialed the station. “Send a CSI team to the stick house in the forest. And make it quick.”

Minutes later, the CSI team arrived, an unlikely trio that only Storyland could produce. Rumpelstiltskin, his eyes sharp and knowing; Alice from Wonderland, her curiosity as boundless as her expertise; and Puss in Boots, dashing and daring with a flair for the dramatic.

As they stepped onto the crime scene, Rumpelstiltskin immediately began muttering to himself, analyzing the surroundings. Alice, ever inquisitive, started examining the precise cuts on the pig’s carcass, while Puss in Boots unsheathed his sword, using it as a pointer to discuss potential evidence with Nick.

Nick, watching the trio get to work, couldn’t help but crack a smile. “Well, I’ll be. These weirdoes are a welcome sight.” The oddities of Storyland, once a source of frustration, now offered a strange comfort in their familiarity.

The Wolf, standing aside, looked on with a mix of awe and apprehension. “Never thought I’d see the day when I’d be relieved to see a cat with boots and a girl talking to rabbits.”

The Wolf, watching the CSI team delve into their work, suddenly found himself gently but firmly grasped by a Storyland police officer. “Alright, Mr. Wolf, time to go,” the officer said, snapping on the handcuffs.

As he was led away, the Wolf cast a backward glance, his expression a blend of resignation and worry. “Well, Detective Carter, looks like I’m off to enjoy those regular jail meals you mentioned.”

Nick nodded, his mind still whirling with the day’s events. The Wolf’s departure marked another chapter in the bizarre case, leaving Nick to ponder the complexities of Storyland’s justice.

Once the Wolf was out of sight, Nick excused himself from the crime scene. As he walked back to the station, his thoughts raced. The quiet of the forest contrasted sharply with the tumult in his mind. The precision of the crime, the peculiarities of the Peppermint Patrol, the melting guards, the starving Wolf – it all swirled together in a strange tapestry of fairy tale and felony.

Arriving back at the station, Nick felt a sense of normalcy wash over him, a stark contrast to the chaotic world he had just left behind. The familiar sights and sounds of the precinct were a welcome change from the oddities of the enchanted forest.

He made his way to his desk, sitting down heavily. Nick reached for a notepad, his hand pausing mid-air as he reflected on the day’s events. The bizarre nature of Storyland crimes, once a source of frustration, was now something he was beginning to understand, if not fully accept.

Nick couldn’t help but smile wryly. Storyland, with its whimsical characters and outlandish scenarios, was growing on him. The challenges it presented were unique, but they also brought a sense of adventure and intrigue that his detective work had been missing.

As he started jotting down his thoughts, piecing together the clues and evidence, Nick felt a renewed sense of determination.

Nick’s pen moved steadily across the paper, each stroke bringing him closer to untangling the web of intrigue that shrouded the case. As he reviewed his notes, his determination hardened into resolve. Jiminy Cricket, the moral compass of Storyland, had met an untimely and gruesome end, and Nick was set on bringing the perpetrator to justice.

The strange circumstances of Jiminy’s demise, the mysterious Peppermint Patrol, and the inexplicable behavior of the Big Bad Wolf – all these elements formed a puzzle that Nick was intent on solving. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he thought through the sequence of events.

“Who would benefit from silencing a conscience like Jiminy?” Nick murmured to himself. The question echoed in the quiet of his office, a stark reminder of the gravity of the case. Jiminy wasn’t just another character in Storyland; he was a guiding light, a voice of reason in a land where whimsy often overshadowed wisdom.

Nick’s thoughts drifted to the CSI team – Rumpelstiltskin, Alice, and Puss in Boots. Their unique skills and insights were invaluable, and he made a mental note to check in with them for updates. He also contemplated the role of the Wolf. Despite his protestations of innocence, there was something unsettling about his presence at the crime scene.

The detective stood up, his resolve turning into action. He would revisit the crime scene, talk to more inhabitants of Storyland, and examine every piece of evidence, no matter how small or bizarre. The killer was out there, possibly hiding behind a façade of fairy tale whimsy, and Nick was determined to uncover the truth.

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To be continued