Detective J. Manatee's instincts for detection did not help much as he fumbled through the sock drawer of D.I. Monty Rebus, who was snoring on the davenport in his aquatic habitat, blotto. Det. Manatee shook him awake. "I've found three bottles of sloe gin in your sock drawer, but no socks. I'm taking you, D.I. Montague Rebus, to rehab." "Blithering barnacles battling blackened bucolic bimbos bickering behind big blue bloodhounds!" By the time D.I. Montague Rebus finished he was already in a 12-step Group. Det. Manatee waved to him And the sea monkeys were in the back seat of his Pravda Rat minivan. They played in the back and sang "Hallejulah" while Det.Manatee knocked on the door at 1683 White Street. He was following up a tepid lead in Hefferfordshire petshop. The victim had been in the illegal Seahorse racing racket. Det. Manatee's lead warmed up quick when Daisy Dugong slapped her haunch with a flipper like appendage. I wasn't about to ask her what it was called because I felt that might be rude not knowing what your date's flipper like appendage is called. My study of xenobiology ended prematurely when I couldn't handle the...more exotic bits, shall we say. So I'm out to a diner with this dolphin-lady alien, feeling very queasy about the fish sticks on the menu, but our waitress June assures us that they have more actual fish content than most. Wrrp (my dolphin alien lady date) suspiciously eyes the napkins laid out on the table. On Wrrp's planet the only predator her kind fear hides under a plant that looks a lot like the napkins on the table. This being our first date, I was also hiding under a napkin, trying to nap, which was unfortunate. Startled, Wrrp slapped the napkin with her tentacle, and then I had an even harder time napping!

 

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