Crime Scene, Do Not Enter

Yesterday I was working away at my desk when I happened to look round to find that OMG, there had been a MURDUR!  </ Taggart>

murder-scene

This photo doesn’t really do the scene justice, because there was stuffing EVERYWHERE. Whoever the victim was, it was clear they had been, not just killed, but also skillfully disemboweled. Closer inspection, however, revealed not just one, but TWO possible victims:

buddy-and-duck

On the right of the picture: Bluddy. So called because he is a BLUE version of BUDDY. This unfortunate creature is “Buddy”:

buddy

As you can see, Buddy hasn’t been well for quite some time. My mum performed pioneering surgery to sew his face back on after the, er, event that led to its removal, but ol’ Buddy, he just hasn’t been the same since. Sometimes he can’t even remember who he is, the poor guy. We keep him around now for purely sentimental reasons: he was Rubin’s first toy, and actually, we’ve had Buddy longer than we’ve had Rubin, because as soon as Terry and I knew we were definitely getting a dog, we rushed out and bought Buddy for him. When we brought the young Rubinman home, Buddy was bigger than him. Then a year later? Buddy was dead. Shame.

Anyway, back to our crime scene, and as I’m sure your keen minds have deduced, our victim was not, in fact, “Bluddy”, but …

the-duck!

Yes, it’s the DUCK! Who is simply known as, er, “Rubin’s Duck”.  Or who WAS known as “Rubin’s Duck”, past tense. I don’t think that duck will ever “quack” again, somehow, which is a shame, because it does actually “quack” when Rubin presses it with his nose. DID actually quack.

Of course, we didn’t have to look far to find the alleged perp: he was standing right there at the scene of the crime, looking strangely pleased with himself:

the-perp

He’s all “Yeah, I did it. SO? I’d do it again…” And he would. For now, though, his work here was done:

aftermath

Still looking inappropriately smug, considering he just disemboweled one of his best friends. That’s the closest we can get him to sit to that dustpan and brush, by the way. Not that I want to spoil anyone’s illusions of how Rubin is a WOLF or anything, but he is TERRIFIED of that thing. Any closer and he will totally lose his mind. I think it must come to life at night and attack him or something.

This concludes our investigation into the Sad Case of Rubin’s Duck. Don’t have nightmares, folks…