It was a warm night at Jaunty Headquarters. I leafed through the co-op’s current sales flier, hoping to find a bargain. Times were hard, even for an ace detective.
Before I could toss the flier aside, its third-rate ad copy caught my eye:
“Why are the flavors of spinach and artichoke always paired up? Because they taste awesome together, that’s why!”
I tipped back my fedora. Something was wrong here. Very wrong.
“If you like pasta, then you’ll like this pasta!”
Why would the co-op hire first-graders to write its advertisements?
“Blue Sky All-Natural Soda is Super-Fizzy, Super-Fun, and Super-Fantastically Super-Delicious!”
My eyes narrowed.
“This coconut milk yogurt is so delicious, they named it So Delicious! I guess they weren’t feeling very creative that day…”
These were no first-graders; this was an inside job. I snuffed out my incense and paced the room.
“Made from the pure, wholesome milk of a cow and non-animal rennet for a tasty, yet lumpy, treat.”
Someone wanted to bump off the co-op by making good, organic food sound completely revolting. That much was plain.
“There are only about four uses for bread, and one of them is toast.”
Criminals always leave a trail, and this guy was no exception. He had typed “Return of the Beach Wolf!” across the top of page 3, plain as day.
“Diced tomatoes are much better than dice that have been tomatoed. True story.”
I cringed. Who was this Beach Wolf? A drunken frat boy? A numbskulled bimbo with a deadline?
“Not flatulent enough? Try beans!”
Whoever it was, this Beach Wolf character was disgracing my co-op. I pulled on my trench coat, locked up Headquarters, and hurried into the night. Jaunty Dame was on the case.