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snoopy369

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Of the Peanuts Gallery
Apr 2004 time: 23:35
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Early Friday morning…
At breakfast. There are several breakfast locations in southern downtown Chicago that lend themselves to authors’ tastes; since the authors wanted to group up somewhat to be safer, they went to only three of them. Ada’s Diner, a traditional Jewish New York diner, with all of the usual things, including a bagel with nearly anything on it you could want; Lloyd’s Chicago, a somewhat upscale restaurant with a traditional American meal; and the Corner Bakery, a bakery chain with fantastic baked goods and a great selection of teas and coffees.
At the Corner Bakery
Bill, Alice, China, Erik, and Paul headed off to the Corner Bakery on Monroe and Wabash. They got their food and sat down to talk about the night before.
“That Foer … totally nuts. Obviously did it … I mean, he even killed himself, so he clearly thought he did it,” said Alice.
“Yeah … hope he was the only one left,” replied Paul. “Would be … frustrating … to have another killer still out there. I wouldn’t feel safe at all, and I’ve been in some pretty unsafe places.”
“What, like the Paris Metro?” said Bill. “Try Tunisa …”
“You guys are both wimps. I grew up in London,” rebuked China. “Ever heard of the Underground? It’s called that for a reason, and I don’t just mean the subterranean location.”
“Well, at least we won’t have that jerk killing people anymore,” said Erik. “Although … I wonder. Seems like there wasn’t really a consistent pattern between the three deaths. Is there another killer out there?”
“You better hope not,” said China. “Otherwise you’ll probably be a target. Thinking people are always targets to psycho killers.”
“Not true,” said Alice. “Actually, psycho killers often keep the thinker alive, because they relish the hunt, from both sides – as hunter and hunted. Think ‘Silence of the Lambs’.
“Yeah … maybe Erik here can be our Jodie Foster …” laughed Paul.
“You guys done? Let’s take off. We should walk back down Wabash to the hotel, I think,” said Bill. “It’s a few blocks south, right?”
“No, Bill, it’s just down Monroe right there – practically across the street,” said Erik.
“Oh, yeah. I forgot. Not much of a sense of direction, I guess.”
“And you call yourself a travel writer …” said Paul.
At Ada’s
Joyce, Dave Barry, Hunter, Neil, and John went to Ada’s Café, on Wabash a bit north of Monroe. They sat down and ordered when the waitress came to the table.
“Well, I guess that’s that,” said Joyce dejectedly. “The end of what would have been a great writer …”
“Well, hopefully it was the end of the murders,” said John. “Not that I think it was, but we can always hope.”
“What do you mean by that?” asked Neil.
“We all know what he means by that,” said Dave. “And we all know who did it, also.”
“Who, John?” retorted Neil. “These despicable murders must have been done by him.”
“Yeah, that’s why three of us voted for *you*, Neil,” calmly stated Hunter.
“After all, you only voted for me to shift the blame from you,” said John. “Just what the killer would have done.”
“What about Alice,” said Joyce. “She’s pretty nuts, and certainly had the opportunity …”
“Whatever, Joyce. We know who the murderer is, and that’s good enough for us. We have a majority of three here after all …” said Dave.
Then the food came, and they all started to eat.
At Lloyd’s Chicago
Lloyd’s is a bit further away, so when Ann, David Sedaris, Joseph, Elmore, David McCullough, and Tom headed off in two cabs to Lloyds, down on Jackson.
Once they got there, the host sat them at a large table near the window, looking at Union Station, and they get a chance to look at the menu before ordering their drinks.
“Huh. Think they have tequila sunrises at a place like this?” said Elmore.
“Why not ask for a Bloody Mary,” said Joseph. “More appropriate.”
“Why you … hmm, actually that sounds pretty good. It’ll go with my Filet, rare, and eggs, scrambled with cheese and ketchup,” said Elmore. “Thanks, I know that’s usually only lunchtime, but I’m sure you have one ready.”
“No problem … I guess …” said Joseph.
“Hmm, I think I want some Chablis, please, and the Superstar, but poached not scrambled, ham, and no cheese, please,” said Ann. “So, do you guys think it will end now? I really hope so. I’m getting tired of finding dead bodies laying around …”
“Yeah, you’ve found a couple of them haven’t you,” said David McCullough. “Well, hopefully we’ll be safe now, anyway.”
“I imagine so. That Foer was pretty creepy, I’m pretty sure he was the killer,” said David Sedaris. “Anyways, I think I just want the Veggie Omelet, and some OJ.”
“Oh, forgot to order with all of the talking I think I’ll take two eggs sunny-side up, bacon, with a side of hashbrowns and a Merlot,” said David McCullough.
“Hmm, how about an order of pancakes with a side of two eggs scrambled, and bacon,” said Joseph. “So Tom, what do you think?”
“Well, I’m pretty sure it was that suicidal maniac, so I think we’ll be safe. But just to be sure, I’m sticking with people I know today,” said Tom. “And … hmm, I like that American Omelet. Add some bacon on the side, and a martini, and you’ll make my day.”
“Yessirs, and ma’am, it will be just a few minutes,” said the waitress.
After the food came, half an hour later, they ate slowly, and after they finished, they decided to walk the food off, as they’d all had a pretty big meal. Lloyd’s of Chicago doesn’t skimp on the portions, you have to give them that, even if the bill was well over $100.
A bit later, at the hotel.
They trickled in a few at a time, coming back from their various breakfast places and getting ready – in the case of the folks at Lloyd’s, getting hurriedly ready, as they were nearly late after walking the half mile back. By the time they were back most of the rest of them were waiting outside the hotel, at the bus, or on the bus.
A few minutes later, on the bus.
[I]It is fairly noisy, so voices can’t be easily identified. It is a tour bus
“Hey, are we all here?”
“Yeah, I think so. There’s what, 15 of us left now?”
“Um, I thought it was 16 …”
“Really? Hmm. Oh wait, you’re right!”
“Maybe we should count again, we probably just missed someone. Ready?”
“Yeah. David S.”
“Ann.”
“John.”
“Barry.”
“Paul.”
“John.”
“Bill.”
“Joyce.”
“Elmore.”
“Tom.”
“Neil.”
“Erik.”
“China.”
“Alice.”
“Blah, we’re not in first grade anymore, why are we …”
“Yeah, that’s Hunter.”
“David McCullough? You around somewhere?”
…
….
“Anyone seen David?”
“Um, he was at breakfast, but I haven’t seen him since Breakfast…”
“Didn’t see him in the room, but I got back way before you guys even left, I suspect.”
“Hmm, I remember seeing him on the way back, but he was trailing a bit … Let’s go back on the route and check.”
“Yeah …”
The authors go back and check, and indeed find David laying prone outside a 7-11 not far from the restaurant, on the way back. He had small puncture wounds in several places on his body, and seemed to have bled to death, although there didn’t look like there had been much of a struggle.
Ann spoke up first. “Okay, those of us who were at Lloyds, does anyone remember seeing him near here on the way back?”
“Hmm, no, not really,” said Tom. “I didn’t see him much after we left, I was going a lot faster than him.”
“Yeah, me neither,” said David Sedaris. “I took a different route back though, Joseph and I wanted to take a look at the river, so we followed it back a ways until we got to Monroe.”
“I remember hearing he said he needed something else to drink, a soda or something,” said Elmore. “But I don’t recall when I saw him last.”
“I saw him after we left the restaurant, but he didn’t walk very fast,” said Ann. “I think all of us must have walked faster than him, actually.”
“Yeah, probably,” said Elmore.
The Lloyd’s diners looked at the folks who ate at the other two establishments, and those patrons looked back, with quite a glaring contest going on … and the authors retreated to their bus, which was waiting patiently for them, to discuss what to do next.
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