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Mr. Ed

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The Christmas Cookie Case
By Mr. Ed
Posted: Thursday, December 11, 2008
Last edited: Saturday, December 20, 2014
This short story is rated "G" by the Author.

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Recent stories by Mr. Ed
· The Easter Skunk
· The Dog At The Drive-Thru Window
· Home For The Holidays
· Two Bonded Street Orphans, In From The Cold
· A Survivor's Tale
· Pigs, Turtles, and Bugs!
· Gentle Cemetery Dog Finally Safe
           >> View all 53
The Continuing Adventures of Sherlock Skunk
THE CONTINUING ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK SKUNK ®
 
 
The Christmas Cookie Case’
 
 
 
It was 4 PM on Christmas Eve in the tiny hamlet of Storyville, and it had been snowing heavily all day.
 
At Police Headquarters, 221b Fairytale Lane, Deputy Watson Weasel was nervously cleaning his glasses and checking the clock on the wall once more.
 
Then he looked over at his boss, Sherlock Skunk, and he saw that Sherlock was still busily working at his desk.
 
Watson had hoped that the kind-hearted police chief would let him leave early today. After all, it was Christmas Eve. Watson wanted to rush home to a cozy warm fireplace and a big bowl of figgy pudding before the Storyville Christmas Pageant later that evening.
 
And that’s exactly when the telephone rang. Of course, Watson answered it immediately.
“Hello? What’s that? Slow down, please! I cannot understand you, Madam.”
Deputy Watson Weasel eventually gave up in frustration and disgustedly handed the telephone to Police Chief Sherlock Skunk.
“It’s Mother Goose, Sherlock, and I can’t understand a word she’s saying. When she honks on and on so fast, none of it makes any sense to me.”
            “Hello, Mother Goose, this is Sherlock Skunk.  What seems to be the matter? Yes? Yes? Yes. I see! Calm down, please. Watson and I will be right over. And, Mother Goose, please don’t touch anything!”
            Sherlock slammed the telephone down, jumped up from his desk, and immediately donned his heavy coat, his scarf, his hat, and his thick woolen mittens. It was frightfully cold out this Christmas Eve.
“Come on, Watson! We have work to do! There’s been a terrible crime, and the thief is on the loose! Your figgy pudding will have to wait!”
            As they now trudged out into the deep dark snow, Watson Weasel couldn’t resist asking Sherlock Skunk how he had known that Watson was thinking about figgy pudding.
            “Elementary, my dear Watson. It is Christmas Eve, after all!”
            “Oh. Hmm. I see! What crime has been committed, Sherlock?”
            “A terrible one, I’m afraid. Someone has stolen the Christmas cookies. As you know, every year Mother Goose and her children bake hundreds of Christmas cookies which they merrily pass out tonight at the Christmas Carol Sing-a-Long in the village square. Every last one of those cookies has disappeared, Watson – they have vanished into thin air!”
            “Ghastly, I must say, Sherlock. Simply ghastly!”
Sherlock and Watson soon arrived at Mother Goose’s house and they could immediately see that Mother was in a terrible state. She was pacing back and forth, flapping her wings hysterically, and honking loudly as she paced all about.
            “Calm down, Mother Goose, calm down please!” said Sherlock Skunk, “and tell us what happened.”
            “Well, Mr. Sherlock, we had just finished boxing up all the Christmas cookies in the barn. My children and I were cleaning up the kitchen before walking over to the village square with the cookies. That’s when Chicken Little rushed in, screaming, ‘The cookies are gone, the cookies are gone!’”
            “I see! How long was the box of cookies out of everyone’s sight?” asked Sherlock.
            “Only a few minutes, Mr. Sherlock!”
            “All right, then. Watson and I will go out to the barn to investigate. Please keep everyone else inside the house, Mother Goose. We’ll be back soon.”
            “Please find our cookies, Mr. Sherlock! Please! The Christmas Pageant will be ruined without them!”
            “Don’t worry, Mother Goose, we'll find them. Come along, Watson.”
            Sherlock and Watson now scampered out to the old red barn behind Mother Goose’s house. And soon, Sherlock was bent over in the deep white snow and very intently staring down at the fresh tracks in front of him with his trusty old magnifying glass.
“What do you see, Watson?” he asked his deputy.
            “Why, I just see a lot of paw prints in the snow. There must be hundreds of them. We’ll never be able to figure out which of these tracks belongs to the thief.”
            “On the contrary, Watson, this will be quite easy.”
            “What’s that you say, Sherlock? How will this be easy?”
            “Remember what I’ve always told you, Watson. The little things are usually the most important. Study the tracks in the snow again, and this time, tell me exactly what you see.”
“Well, uh, all right. I see goose tracks obviously made by Mother Goose and her children. I see Chicken Little’s tracks, and the tracks made by the Three Little Pigs, the Three Bears, and the Three Blind Mice. They were all most definitely here today.”
            “Very good, Watson. But do you see anything strange about any of these tracks?”
            “Uh, uh, actually, no.”
            “Look very closely at the tracks of the Three Blind Mice, Watson. They appear to be walking together in a straight line. And, for tiny little mice, their tracks appear to be very deep in the snow. What does that tell you?”
            “My gosh, Sherlock! The Three Blind Mice took the cookies! Their tracks are deeper because they were carrying the heavy box of cookies!”
“Exactly, Watson! Now we must hurry and follow their tracks through the woods if we are to find them and the cookies in time for the Christmas Pageant. It’s still snowing, and the new snow will cover their tracks very quickly. Let’s go!”
            As these two courageous old friends now trudged off into the deep dark forest intently following the tracks of the Three Blind Mice, Watson Weasel was now extremely upset.
            “I can’t believe the Three Blind Mice are common thieves, Sherlock! I just can’t.”
            “That’s because they’re not, Watson. But I’ve no time to explain now. We must find them before it's too late!”
            Sherlock Skunk and Watson Weasel walked on and on into the deep dark forest searching for the missing mice, and the missing box of cookies.
It was snowing much harder now, and the tiny mouse tracks they were following were beginning to disappear before their very eyes. Soon, they would vanish completely.
That's exactly when Sherlock heard a noise through the trees.
"Listen, Watson! I hear someone!"
Watson Weasel strained his ears and he, too, soon heard the muffled cry.
"Help! Help!" they both now heard through the trees.
Sherlock and Watson raced in the direction of the cry for help and soon came upon the Three Blind Mice. They were half-buried in the deep wet snow, sitting very forlornly on the heavy box of cookies, and looking extremely frightened.
“Who’s there in the woods?" the Three Blind Mice anxiously called out. "Please help us, please!”
            “It’s Sherlock Skunk and Watson Weasel. We’ve been searching for you. Are you all right?”
            “Thank goodness you found us, Mr. Sherlock. We’re lost, and we’re freezing to death out here!”
            “Why did you steal the Christmas cookies?” demanded Watson Weasel.
            “Steal? Who said that we stole these cookies, Mr. Watson?”
“Why, no one did. But you did take them from Mother Goose’s barn. And don’t deny it. You’re sitting on them!”
            “Why, yes, we took them. But we were only trying to help. Every year Mother Goose and her children bake all the cookies for the Christmas Pageant. Chicken Little wraps and boxes up all the cookies. The Three Little Pigs build the stage in the village square for the Christmas Carol Sing-a-Long, and the Three Bears decorate the huge Christmas tree.
“We only wanted to help! We decided to carry the box of cookies to the square for them, but we somehow got turned around, and we lost our way in the snow. We are blind, you know!”
            “Hmm. I see!” said Watson Weasel, “We better hurry and get you and the cookies back to Storyville before the three of you freeze to death!”
            As they all quickly marched back to the village with the heavy box of cookies, Watson Weasel couldn't resist asking Sherlock Skunk how he had known that the Three Blind Mice hadn't stolen the Christmas cookies.
            "Elementary, my dear Watson. I've known these three mice since they were children. And they are most certainly not thieves!"
An hour later, all the animals in Storyville were now excitedly gathered around the brightly decorated Christmas tree in the village square for their annual Christmas Pageant. They were all very happy again, too. Both the Christmas cookies and the missing mice had been found.
            Mother Goose and her many children soon began passing out their delicious homemade Christmas cookies to everyone now gathered there as Chicken Little, Turkey Lurkey, Ducky Lucky, and Goosey Loosey began singing the very first carol of the evening. It was everyone's favorite - We Wish You a Merry Christmas!
Mother Goose eventually stopped in front of Sherlock Skunk and Watson Weasel and gave each of them an extra cookie because they were the ones who had found the missing cookies and saved this year’s Christmas Pageant.
“Thank you, Mother Goose!” You are very kind!” shouted Watson Weasel.
            “Watson! Hurry up and finish those cookies!” barked Sherlock Skunk.
            "What’s that you say? What's the rush, Sherlock?" asked Watson. "Don't tell me that we have another mystery to solve already?"
"No, Watson. But you certainly don’t want a mouthful of cookie crumbs spoiling your magnificent voice when you get up on the stage in a minute to sing Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer!”
            “Now how could you possibly know that I'll be singing next, Sherlock?” asked Watson Weasel with a very puzzled look on his furry little face.
            “Elementary, my dear Watson. I looked at the Christmas pageant schedule. It says right here that you’re next. Merry Christmas, my old friend!”
            “And to you, Mr. Sherlock Skunk! The Very Merriest Christmas of All!”
 
©2008, Mr. Ed
 
The Christmas Cookie Case,
Is One of Several Holiday Themed,
Sherlock Skunk and Watson Weasel Adventures.
‘The Vanishing Valentine’ Will Be Featured Next.
 
 

  


 

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Reviewed by J Howard 12/6/2011
how in the world did you "see" (as only an author could) all those children's story as one big mix...what a tasty cookie you baked! :)
Reviewed by John Coppolella 12/28/2008
Delightful! A classic conundrum turned inside out. Thanks, Ed.

Rockie Coppolella

PS love the word tree after the poem. jrc
Reviewed by A Serviceable Villain 12/11/2008
Hello Ed,

SUPERLATIVE!!


Best regards,

Lance
Reviewed by JASMIN HORST SEILER 12/11/2008
A most cheerful Christmas story Ed, I shall give it to my grandchildren to read, Bless You! Jasmin Horst
Reviewed by Bonnie May 12/11/2008
Terrrrrrrrrrific write Ed and delightful at anytime of year but even more so with Christmas coming. Love, Bonnie
Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado 12/11/2008
Absolutely delightful story, Ed; great to see you doing stories again! Please do more of them!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx, Karen Lynn. :D
Reviewed by m j hollingshead 12/11/2008
i like this
Reviewed by Georg Mateos 12/11/2008
Hey! where are my cooky? The story is a very charming one, but...WHERE'S MY COOKY???! ! ! ! !

Edvard the Elder

PS: I can take Jersey's too.


Books by
Mr. Ed



My Dog Is My Hero

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Where The Redwing Sings

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Curious Creatures - Wondrous Waifs, My Life with Animals

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Through Katrina's Eyes, Poems from an Animal Rescuer's Soul

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Signed copy!
Amazon, Barnes & Noble, more..




Cemetery Island

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Amazon, Barnes & Noble, more..




Gold River Canyon

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Amazon, Barnes & Noble, more..




Mystery of Madera Canyon

Buy Options
Signed copy!
Amazon, more..



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