Detective Chombers and Detective Log stood over the body in the living room.
“Wow. What has this town come to?”
“Well, clearly this is the work of the ‘Nail-Gun Killer’.”
“Really? What makes you think that?”
“…Because of the nail sticking out of his head.”
“Oh…yeah I noticed that. I was just seeing if you did.”
“Right. You know, Detective Log, it just sickens me. It really does. What one man, or woman, could do to another man, or woman.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, shoot someone, in their own home, with a nail gun. Right in the middle of their forehead.”
“Yeah. They could have used that nail gun for something else. Like building a small business.”
Suddenly, the corpse’s eyes jerked open. The detectives jumped back as the mouth gasped for breath. Detective Log reflexively pulled out his gun and aimed it at the body.
“No! What are you going to do?”
“It startled me!”
“Well don’t!” Detective Chombers shook his head and crouched down as the body reeled back to life. “Excuse me, sir. My name is Detective Chombers. And we would like a word with you.”
The body coughed as blood trickled down from his forehead.
“Did you happen to have a good look at who did this to you?”
“What?” The body finally asked.
“The man, or woman, who shot you. Who was it? Was he white, black, brown? Was he of small stature?”
“Did he have sideburns?” Dt. Log asked.
“What? No…no one did this to me. I accidentally shot myself.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I wanted to hang up that picture of Steven Seagal above my fireplace and, well, I guess it didn’t go so well…”
Dt. Chombers stood back up. He thought for a moment. “Well, what if someone were to shoot you in the head with a nail-gun, who do you think would it be?”
“Sir?” Log asked.
Chombers turned to him. “Look, we need to nab someone. Anyone. Trust in us policemen is at an all time low. Now, Mr…”
But the body had returned to death. His eyes glazed over. Chombers sighed. “It never gets any easier…”
“I–I don’t know…Let’s see what’s in his fridge.”
Written for Stream of Consciousness Saturday.