The Snack Case (A Who Donut Mystery)

My name’s Dick, Dick James and I’d always thought I was a super freak until that one fateful night she entered my life. I had just poured myself a scotch and was looking for something to eat. All I had were my chocolate snack cakes that I’d opened two days ago and hadn’t gotten to yet. Oh well, they’d do.

My door slid open and she came into my office smoldering like a lit cigarette. We’ll, maybe a lit joint. She was only 4’ tall.

She introduced herself as “Little Debbie”. She was decked out in a red dress slit so high I caught glimpses of her Hello Kitty underwear as she strutted across the room. She informed me she had been acting as Hostess at her annual pastry party when she was robbed.

I handed her a glass of scotch which she took, but didn’t drink. She was gazing at my Ding Dong with undisguised lust. It had been uncovered for so long it had started to harden, but it was all I had to offer. She accepted readily.

Talking with her mouth full she continued her story. Every member of her staff was responsible for creating at least one desert for the party. Evidently Twinkie, her 92 year old gay butler, was about to serve his famous Fruit Pie when the power went out. When the lights came back on her Donut Gems where missing.

I asked her if she had Chocodialed the police. She just laughed and said, “Sending cops to retrieve donuts was like sending a lesbian to find your girlfriend. You'd never be really sure what was actually eaten” She’d heard that when the chocolate chips were down I was the best in the business.

Against my better judgment I agreed to take her case. We drove out to her mansion at 69 Dolly Madison Ave.

The largest man I’ve ever seen answered the door. He was an albino close to seven feet tall with the classic body builder physique. Little Debbie introduced him as Frosty, her bodyguard. He informed me in a soprano voice that his Snow Balls had been taken in the theft as well.

I decided to interview the other staff to see what else was missing. I spoke with Twinkie first. He didn’t look 92, but rather in his mid-thirties. He was very well preserved. He informed us that all but one of Little Debbie’s Mini Muffins was also gone.

I didn’t know why someone would steal deserts. Little Debbie insisted that I try her muffin so I could understand what all of the fuss was about. It was so deliciously moist and warm that I spent at least a half an hour nibbling on her mini muffin. It was almost addictive. I needed to solve this case lickity split and get out of here.

Next I spoke with Suzy Q, the maid. Her contribution was Debbie’s Delicious Cup Cakes (a.k.a. Double D Cup Cakes). She suspected that they had not been stolen because of their size. I asked if I could see her Double D's. She reluctantly agreed and pulled them out. I quickly reached over and squeezed them gently. She gasped in surprise.

I turned to Little Debbie declaring, “Here is your thief.”

Suzy Q turned to run but was caught and held by Frosty. “How can you be sure?”

“After trying Little Debbie’s muffin I was pleasantly satisfied. Looking at the Double D’s I realized they were way too much for one person to enjoy. I’ve always felt that more than a handful is just a waste.

If you examine her Double D’s more closely you’ll notice they are a little too firm. I suspect if you open them up you’ll find your donut gems, snow balls and mini muffins. In fact if I’m not mistaken your little maid is the notorious Honey Bun. Wanted in 13 states for theft and prostitution. She and her partner Zoe Zinger are quite the Ho Ho’s.

So, Honey, why’d you do it ?”

Honey replied,” We only needed a few hundred more dollars for Zoe to get her sex change. I thought I could get something for muffin, then we wouldn’t have to pound cakes at the bakery anymore and we could run away together.”

Well that’s kind of romantic, but I think you’ve learned your lesson and Zoe is going to learn hers. . . .Honey can’t buy you a penis.