Private Eye

It was midnight and the storm outside was raging so hard that it could make the strongest Orff want to go home and curl up back at the egg pit, when she walked into my office. She was tall and thin, and had legs like a Alterbraen Space-Giraffe. She turned to me and said, "Darling, have I got a case for you."

All in a day's work for a private eye.

(I drew an Orff.)

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