Princess Frostylocks' school of REALLY BAD ACTING

Franklyn’s sky blue eyes widened. “I…er…I…”








Shandalier walked over and slapped Franklyn across the face as hard as she could.

"Jesus Franklyn, what the fuck is wrong with you? What does mean and why the fuck do you keep saying it?"

Thorne was also staring at Franklyn with what he hoped was a look that was both superior and quizzical but in reality looked like he'd just taken a lesson in serious expression at the Lance Bass Princess Frostylocks' school of REALLY BAD ACTING.

"Yeah dude, you're always doing it. Have you got Tourette's or something?" Thorne muttered.

Shandalier didn't like Thorne's familiar tone.

"And just who the fuck ARE you?" she screamed at Thorne.

Thorne's cop toughness disappeared and his middle-class manners stepped in.

He extended his hand, "Excuse me m'aam, I'm Thor-"

"Oh SHUT UP! You think you're Thor. I just deep-throated this guy, I'll probably have lock-jaw for a week."

Shandalier couldn't take anymore, she'd just had a half Koorie/Pakistani murdered in her redecorated bathroom, been interrupted in a rather heated moment of intimacy before she could she-bop and now she was being accused of arson by a cop who obviously had some inside knowledge on her squeeze. She flung herself with as much grace and drama as she could onto her microsuede mushroom-toned sofa and began sobbing (carefully ensuring that none of her tears touched the fabric).

Franklyn rushed to her side. He wasn't the most faithful of partners when it came to sex (or same-sex for that matter) relationships - but Shandy was his boss, a friend and anyway - she just swallowed a quarter of a cup of his jizz - he owed her. Franklyn gently stroked Shandalier's back, trying to placate her.

Shandalier pleaded, "Tell them Franklyn, tell them. I don't know anything about Thai Me Up. I don't know anything about arson You've been here with me all night. You were with me out here when Black Magic had her thick dusky neck slit in my new bathroom...oh my new bathroom..." Shandalier's sobbing became more genuine as she thought of those Italian tiles, perhaps permanently stained with the blood that seeped from Black Magic's swarthy complexion. Shandalier tried to get it under control, past experience told her that she had ten minutes - tops - of the sobbing before they guys started getting jack of it.

Franklyn hushed her. "It's ok, I'll tell them everything. I'll tell you all the truth. I am very...um...familiar with Thai Me Up, I just finished rebuilding their website, among other things. I've been here for about thirty minutes. Before that I was down at Thai me Up, enjoying some of the...facilities. After I got here I heard Black Magic scream and when I went in her neck was slit, I didn't see anyone enter or exit the apartment and she was in there when I got here. I don't know what Shandalier was doing before I got here or how long she's been home."

Just then the forensic team walked in and Thorne moved back into tough-cop mode, "I think we've heard enough - you two are coming to the station with us now."

Shandalier became hysterical, "No, no, no you can't take me back there. Not after what happened last time."