Humphrey Gobart, grizzled and grumpy detective, sat slumped in his dingy office chair. He was contemplating the half empty bottle of milk sitting before him on his cluttered desk. After a week of dealing with basket cases, nut cases, and missing briefcases he was understandably depressed.

Oh for a substantial case, a case with meaning, perhaps, yes, perhaps a Gucci case would have the substance he was looking for but how could he afford a Gucci case?

With this thought, Humphrey poured himself another shot of moo juice, tilted back his head, and slurped it down with one gulp. All the while ignoring the milk moustache forming just above his unshaven chin. Amazingly enough, it that precise moment was when the phone beside his ear jangled, jumbling the jungle of thoughts inside his head even further.

“Hello,” seemed the logical thing to say, so Humphrey mumbled these words into the mouthpiece of the telephone. With that prompt, a mysterious voice began to whisper into Humphrey’s ear, outlining the case of a life time, the story of a horrible murder.

Who had killed poor old Common Sense?

Why?

The town was full of suspects but Humphrey vowed that day that he would do what it took to track down the murderer and when he found that criminal mastermind, Humphrey would make him pay…for the parking ticket he had incurred while he was inside Common Sense’s apartment committing his evil deeds. Then, if that wasn’t enough, the guilty party would be sent off on a guilt trip…to the big house. Yes, the town would never be the same after the death of Common Sense, but in the end, Humphrey Gobart would make sure that justice was served.