Piensa en mi cuando sufras

I Day. Crime Scene in the front porch, The wife has a hunch

- My husband had been dead for years officer. He had solid face-to-the-facts emotions, you see. Happiness came to him in a very clear, neatly packaged way.
- And what way was that exactly?
- The way down to the licor store, of course.
- So he was happy when he was drunk
- Oh not only happybut--
- Very, very happy, I see. So, what got in the way of his happines?
- The doctor said he had to stop drinking or he would die. And that, officer, killed him.
- So he no longer drinked.
- He did! but it wasnt cheerful drinking, but obssesive, angst-ridden, suicidal drinking.
- This got him in to trouble.
- Yes, he and my lover would have the most dreadful fights about --
- Wait, he and your lover were friends?
-They were half-brothers
- And did he knew..
- Yes of course!
-Oh, Im sorry miss. But please, back to the fights.
- They would get into awful theasaurus fights over an ordinary game of Scrabble, Im afraid I had to call the police in more than one occasion.
-So do you think that perhaps one of this fights got a bit out of control, perhaps your husband had tried to use some incredibly silly word like "Flipacointwice" and your lover couldnt cope with it so he decided to take out the knife and slice poor George into...
-I thought you said he had been murdered with a stick, just as he answered the door.
- Yes. Yes. I mean, did you see George's half brother with any suspicious stick las night?
- No, not any suspicious sticks, he sold them, you see.
-He sold sticks?
- It was the family business
- Did George sell sticks too?
- No.. he was kind of a black sheep in his family. He was a gynechologist, specialist in fertility puns.
-Sorry I thought I heard you say fertility puns.
- Its a new sort of therapy, he invented it. It entailed him joking people into having babies.Quite revolucionary.
-Did it actually worked?
- He said that if it had worked on me it could work on almost anybody, but it didnt. All that punning got him several enemies. I bet it was one of them unsatisfied costumers that killed him with a stick to incriminate my lover.
- Well... that sounds like.. like an actually good hunch
- Thank you, officer
- You are quite a perceptive women.
-Oh you are just saying that... do you want to come in? I mean, you must be tired, standing ther, taking all those notes, with that... tight uniform.
-Uhm. Yes. No, see I have to go down to the station and report on--
-Come in, Ill make some crepés
-I-- Oh well.

II Day. Through a crowded boulevar, the killer walks to her friend Sally's Coffieur

The killer walked through the boulevard with his bloody stick, barking at people like a mad man. he was a bearded man, but not a neatly bearded man, but a fried-chicken-and-cheetos-stained-bearded man. He had big earphones over a long black greasy hair. He was listening to Olga Guillot's "Enseñame Tu" as he turned the corner and entered into a generic dinner. He asked for the bathroom. The waitress told him. When he got out, he was as unpleasant looking as before, but back on the street he stopped barking at people. Peeing put him in a better mood.

Once at Sally's

-But really Charlie, couldnt you at least lose the bloody stick.
-They're not chasing me Sally, the police must know the difference between--
-Between a killer that hasnt taken a bath in four years and a crook.
-Hey, you got somewhere to connect this?
- You too? I feel like im the only person alive that hasnt got an Ipod.
-You might just be, Sally, go on put something by

"Hace un año que te fuiste, y aun no se me va el sabor..."

III Day. Kitchen. Officer pussy whipped with gourmet shit

- Mhmm, that was good wasnt it, officer?
-Ehrm, yes miss, that was, ehrm, fine cheese.
-What about the crepes.
- They were good too, I guess.
-Oh officer, you've stained your shirt
-No problem miss, I'll..
-But let me.
-No, really..
- Dont be shy..
- Im not shy!

(...)

-So now its clear that the killer was Lord Charles.
-What?
-Come on officer, I know cheese can get to a man´s head but please try to keep up!
-But you just brought that up! It's not fair to use as an argument to pass judgment on my fine cheese eating.
- Look, salty boy, the killer was Lord Charles, the missing filanthropist, he was pissed one of my husband's puns had made his wife suicidal...
- But Lord Charles' wife died in a car accident, because of the papparazzi! And lord Charles isnt missing at all, he just turned indie!
- I thought policemen didnt read that sort of news you should be embarrassed.
- I... I overheard it at some pub. I was drinking. A lot. With some very tough blokes.

Devuelveme mi amor para matarlo,
devuelveme el cariño que te di

-Whats that?

Tu no eres quien merece conservahlo

-Oh shit its my George's cellphone

tu ya no vales nada para mi

-Where is it?

devuelveme el rosario de mi madre

-I think it comes from..

Y quedate con todo lo demao

- Here it is. I've got it

Lo tuyo te lo envio cualquier tarde

- Give me that!

No quiero que me veas nunca máoouu

- No! Stay put silly woman - click- Hello?

- She is right officer, Charles is the killer. George was cheating on him, with me.

-What?! Who are you?