August 19, 2019 by thewashingteenian
A collaborative story by I’Kareem Buchanan and Cyndi Powell, edited by Jay Trovato
“So apparently, my partner Cyndi and I have a very cold case – and boy, I feel a slight chill about this. Or is it because we’re inside a freezer?”
“Oh no, I’Kareem!” exclaimed Cyndi, teeth chattering. “How on earth are we going to catch the guy who did this? All the evidence is frozen.”
“I guess I can’t let it go. After all, it’s not the right temperature to harvest corny puns,” I said, while trying not to let the cold air distract me. However, I did wonder why the chief said our suspect was a wee little mantis.
“Oh yeah, they call her Mani the ‘Praying Mantis.’ Manilla, the Queen Bee of the drug cartel, is a nun. For years it was a genius cover – smuggling drugs through the church and cooking meth in the basement under the altar – but we finally caught on to her scheme.”
“Sooooo…why are we in here, exactly?” I asked, before realizing that our criminal lured us in here not too long ago.
“Oh yeah. Ugh, don’t remind me! We’ve been tracking Manilla the Queen Bee and her cronies for the last 15 months. All the clues led us here to this meat freezer in Joe’s Deli on 69th Street.”
“So, are we waiting for backup? Because I get the sudden feeling this is a major setup. I mean, we haven’t found anything here.”
“We’re trapped, you imbecile!” Cyndi declared. “We were duped!”
…Two hours later…
Cyndi and I were finally out of the freezer with the unconscious Praying Mantis in handcuffs. I said to the officer, “Take her to the department.”
We may bumble along and make poor decisions sometimes, but in the end we always get our man…or, should I say, we always get our nun-turned-drug lord.