Predator Press
[LOBO]
“I suppose,” I says, pacing back and forth across the room, “you’re all wondering why I’ve called you here.”
Complainy doesn’t miss a beat. “Because you haven’t found a job yet, and you’re slowly losing your
mind?”
I stop and turn slowly to face my 16 year old daughter, but Screechy tugs on my leg. “Can I play Star Wars Legos?”
“No Star Wars Legos for
anyone until I find out who did it,” I reply.
“Did
what?” asks Terri.
“Something so vile and horrendous,” I says eyeing Shiftless warily, “the consequences will be
dire.” I lean into a squirmy Shiftless and repeat in an ominous whisper, elongating two sylables slowly: “
Die-re!”
“Mom he’s gone completely crazy,” says Complainy.
“Crazy like a fox!” I exclaim. “A crime-solving fox with X-Ray vision so’s he can peer into the dark hearts of evildoers!”
“Honey,” says Terri. “Would you please at least shave? You look like Tom Hanks in
Cast Away.”
I look down at my own chest. Without a mirror I can’t quite see the beard yet, but it occurs to me that I’m in rumpled pajamas, an untied bathrobe and slippers.
-In and of itself this isn’t so weird, but it’s two o’clock in the afternoon.
I turn to Terri suspiciously. “And you sure seem to want to change the subject a lot!” I snap.
Shiftless is clearly losing patience. “So what
is this ‘horrendous act’ you had to wake me up for?”
I grab the sheet and pause for a moment to build the drama. Then, in a quick, smooth motion I pull it away. Having revealed what was underneath, I point at it while facing them accusingly.
“What’s wrong with the television?” asks Terri.
My jaw almost falls open at her lack of observation.
I point again.
“Nobody messed with your crappy TV,” says Complainy.
“Can I play Star Wars Legos?” asks Screechy.
"There will be no fun in this household until justice is
served!" Shaking with rage, I point a little closer to the upper left corner.
Terri squints. “What. Is it that fingerprint?”
Finally!
Rendered unable to speak by fury, I nod violently.
“So somebody probably touched the screen while we were moving it,” says Shiftless. “Heck it might’ve been
you.”
“Silence!” I demand. “If 97 back-to-back episodes of
Forensic Files have taught me
anything," I says flatly, "It's that when you find a fingerprint there's been a
crime. The last time I saw this television, it was snuggly chained between six mattresses and those six mattresses were encased in
carbonite!"
“Can I play Star Wars Legos?” asks Screechy.
"-And I have
further proof it was not me, as you have so clearly implied.” I show Shiftless the non-matching pads of my finger through my magnifying glass. “If you
still think that print is mine," I add, "I’ve prepared a PowerPoint presentation we can go through later that illustrates the differences. My fingerprint is an ‘arch’ while this is
clearly a 'whorl.'”
“Look honey,” says Terri from behind me. “It comes right off with a paper tow-“
“Stop!” I scream. “You’re contaminating the
DNA!”
Predator Press 
