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Tuesday, 21 June 2011

image for Lost Agatha Christie Manuscript found on Wikileaks SHHHH! Don't tell them where I found it.

A previously unknown Agatha Christie manuscript was uncovered on Wikileaks by a graduate student at Whatsa Matta University, which is also, known as Whatsa Matta U. The manuscript is titled: Murder in a Hovel.

Unlike most of her mystery novels which take place in settings of wealth and prestige, this one takes place in a one room hovel that is located in a fishing village along the North Sea.

The mystery unfolds when Hercule Poirot, who was an apprentice under the great detective Dictionary Brown, visits a couple in the seaside village of Hopeless. Poirot was sent to the one room hovel by Detective Dictionary Brown, to pick up a rooster to replace the one that had died in a tragic happenstance.

Apparently, Dictionary Brown's cock got his pecker bitten off by a neighbor's cat when he attacked it and started pecking the crap out of it. After several unsuccessful attempts of penetrating the pussy, the pussy retaliated by biting off the pecker. Needless to say, Dictionary Brown's cock would never crow again.

Poirot did not arrive at the couple's hovel until well after sunset due to the fact that he was using an out of date Google map that had led him temporarily astray, causing him to lose all of the day's sunlight.

The first thing Poirot noticed when he got to the hovel, was the absence of any fishing nets or boats. Apparently, the couple lived in a fishing village and yet, did not fish.

No wonder why they were so fucking poor. And stupid as well.

Due to the lateness of his arrival as well as the thunderous sound of an impending storm, the couple invited Poirot to have dinner with them and to stay the night.

The hovel consisted of a fireplace with a cauldron in it, a wooden table, three wooden chairs and a pile of blankets in one corner.

The couple invited Poriot to join them for a dinner that consisted of two day old gruel with a side of three day old gruel and dessert of fucking nasty as shit gruel to be downed with a mug of some sour ass shit juice that no one had any idea what the fuck it was, but they would drink it anyway.

Poirot happily accepted the invitation.

He hadn't had a damn thing to eat all day. Anyway, the dinner was way better than the crap that Dictionary Brown fed him.

Halfway through the dinner a sudden breeze from the impending storm came through the window and blew out the candles. There was a scream and a loud smash and the sound of someone falling to the floor.

When Poirot finally got one of the candles re-lit he saw the wife on the floor dead with her head lying in a pool of blood that apparently came from a large gash in it. Above her stood her husband with a large hammer screaming:

"Die bitch! Die!"

Poirot immediately went into detective mode and began searching every corner of the hovel looking for clues. What he found was a lot of dirt that was really, really dirty, but no evidence as to what had killed the wife.

After inspecting the mug that the wife had been drinking from, Poirot amazing deduced that she had been poisoned and he even knew by whom.

Apparently, upon Poirot's arrival at the hovel he spied the wife outside near the neighbor's pig pen where she was taunting a lone pig by singing:

BLT on toast
BLT on toast
They all say-o
Just add some mayo
so you can eat
Your BLT on toast

It was quite obvious that revenge was the reason that the pig killed the wife.

Poirot and the husband ended up killing the pig and then enjoyed several BLTs on toast.

Soon after, Poirot headed back to Dictionary Brown's house with the cock, where Brown impatiently awaited its arrival so that he could get his hands on the cock and get acquainted with it.

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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