Badonkadonk Manor had been built at the point where the southernmost tip of the Rhombus of Michaelis opened up into the north entrance to the valley running between the twin Callipygian mountains. It rested in the shade of Right Cheek Peak and offered one of the finest views on all of Charlotte. On a clear day the Dimples of Venus framed the northeast and northwest horizon and you could see all the way to the Perineal Raphe in the deep south.
The Hole family had been in residence at Badonkadonk since Gluteus Maximus reigned over all and looked to remain there until the crack of doom.
That is until family patriarch Arse Hole met an untimely end.
Foul play was suspected of course. So at the tail end of July I and my dear friend Fundament Derriere left the hustle and bustle of city life and caught the last train to Badonkadonk, taking the final two seats of the caboose.
Derriere is, of course, the finest consulting detective in the world. The fact that he is also the only consulting detective is beside the point – he always gets to the bottom of the matter discovering exactly who or what was behind everything.
We arrived and were greeted by the butler.
“No time for pleasantries, Keister.” Derriere said pushing past the German manservant. “Have everybody meet me us in the back of the house.”
“The hind quarters?” Asked the stunned German.
“Are you getting cheeky with me, Keister?”
“No sir. It's just that Master Prat is still at the orifice. He won't be home from the fudge factory for hours.”
“Then make a booty call and get him here ass soon ass possible. In the meantime, Dr. Brownnose and I are quite hungry. Have cook send along some buns and possibly some moon pies.” Derriere turned abruptly and confidently strolled down the back passage.
The Holes and their assorted relations didn't exactly bust their humps joining us, but after a short while everyone was present except for Arse's second youngest son Prat.
“Master Prat regrets to inform us that there has been some backup on the Hershey Highway and it could be hours before he returns to Badonkadonk.” Keister informed us, placing a tray of fresh baked goods on the table.”
“We'll have to muddle on without him.” Derriere said biting into one of Keister's fresh warm buns.
“It's perfectly obvious what killed father.” Arse's oldest daughter said. “It was Dokes, that wretched anaconda father liked to play with. I don't see why we have to submit to Derriere assing us all these questions when we know who squeezed Arse.”
“You have focused on the instrument of your father's murder, Pygophilia, but not who provoked Dokes to attack and how he made it onto the back porch.”
“Surely it was brought in that old trunk.” The third eldest son said. “Father opened it and Dokes wrapped himself around him.”
“No, Rump.” Derriere said. “I'm afraid there was too much junk in the trunk for that to work.”
“There was a panhandler here the other day.” Suggested one of the Tukhus twins. “Maybe he did it.”
“No, Fanny.” Derriere said in a stern voice. “At the time Dokes was wrapped around Arse the bum in question was drunk off his ass and sleeping it off on the undercarriage of the caboose Brownnose and I rode in on.”
The other twin began to sob.
“You've gone and upset your sister, Fanny.” Derriere said. “It's alright, Tushy you can tell us the truth.”
“Bottom is not a bum.” Tushy sobbed. “He's my sweet patootie.”
“You really do love him?” I asked.
“I'm over the moon.” Tushy replied still sobbing.
“But demon rum has made him a shell of a man.” Derriere added.
“It rectum.” Tushy said all too honestly.
“He never would have started drinking if he hadn't gotten into politics.” Pygophilia butted in. “All day long he'd do nothing butt focus his attention on satisfying his ideological support network.”
“It was all the bloody fool ever talked about.” Said Rump. “He was all about that base.”
“I took the liberty of bringing in some V-8.” Keister said.
“Thanks, Hiney.” Rump said, shocking the rest of the room with his cultural insensitivity.
“Thank you, Keister.” Derriere elected to turn the other cheek. He made a point of grabbing Keister's nice full can and bringing its juicy goodness up to his mouth. “Very refreshing. You can really taste that onion.”
“So Bottom isn't at the bottom of all this?” Asked the dry eyed twin.
“Don't be thick, Fanny.” Rump said.
“I may not be as smart as Derriere, but I'm not dumb.” Fanny said, pouting. “I get by using what my momma gave me.”
“The thing that I don't understand is why anyone would want to do Arse in.” I said.
“Arse had money coming out the wazoo.” Pygophilia quipped.
“Dokes sure did shake his money maker.” Rump said. He'd notably not touched Keister's cans.
“If Bottom didn't bring it in and it wasn't in the trunk how did they get Dokes onto the back porch?” Tushy's tears were drying.
“Somebody came in through the back door.” Derriere said, finally putting Keister's can down.
“But the back door is exit only.” Pygophilia insisted.
v“From what I remember your backdoor swings both ways, Ms. Hole.”
“That means the only person who could have done Arse in is Prat.” Rump exclaimed.
“We have to stop him before he high tails it out of town.” Fanny added.
“No worries, good Holes.” Derriere said, eyeing Keister's buns again. “I've alerted Inspector Posterior of the Interior and his partner Lt. Ana Lingus to arrest Prat the moment he tries to cross the canal. And as surely as we live on a giant woman named Charlotte, Posterior will put the bugger behind bars.”
“Amazing, Derriere.” I said. “Prat thought he'd get away with this, but he's going to take the fall. There's just one thing I'm not clear of.”
“What's that, Brownnose?” Derriere pinched Keister's buns to see if they were still as vibrantly fresh as they were before. They were.
“What anal … I'm sorry … what canal are you talking about?”
“Alimentary, my dear Brownnose. Alimentary.”