The column whose terms apply but not its conditions

MYSELF: My first is in peanuts but not in custard
READER: Oh I love these brain teasers.
MYSELF: I know. My second isin Spain but not in algebra…
READER: Not in algebra? That’s a tricky one.
MYSELF: …Where am I?
READER: This is going to take me a while.
MYSELF: Take your time, I’m here all week..

New series
No.1 The Silence of the Lamb
Saturday 4.27am: By the time Inspector Trump’s car arrived at the Shashlik, an upmarket Turkish kebab joint, it was surrounded by scene-of-crime tape and unflatteringly lit by banks of harsh spotlights. Vital clues had been gathered by police detectives and the evidence was already beginning to mount.
The previous night, Karl Gluck, wealthy owner of the nearby Gluck’s Launderama had left his fiancée Diana waiting in the car whilst he called in to the Shashlik and ordered some Lamb Kofta for supper. Security cameras later showed that he entered the front door at 6.15pm, but never came out. Diana waited, but when the restaurant closed at 1.30am and Karl had still not shown up, his fiancée began to lose hope. She decided to drive home with Lars Vøndervønder, a Norwegian submarine engineer who just happened to be passing by, promising him she would call the engagement off in the morning. At 3.00am she reported Karl’s disappearance to the police.
Whilst Inspector Trump’s trained eye surveyed the area, Raoul Pirez, police detective in charge of the case filled him in. He told him he suspected Mr. Gluck was now dead, murdered, and that all the evidence pointed towards Kebab Krazy, a rival Turkish outfit across town. Six men in black suits and carrying an assortment of weapons, had been seen leaving there at 6.20pm and eyewitnesses saw them running into The Shashlik 10 minutes after Karl had entered. Shortly afterwards, neighbours said they heard gunshots and screams. Further CCTV footage revealed the men driving out the back gates 30 minutes later in a hearse with darkened windows.

Inspector Trump said nothing. Pushing open the Shashlik’s plush swing doors, he briefly surveyed the deserted dining room, then made a bee-line for the kitchen.
Fifteen minutes later he emerged, and looking detective Pirez directly in the eye said; “You must issue a warrant for the arrest of Dur Tea-Ly, the Shashlik’s Chinese laundry supervisor, on suspicion of first degree murder.”

The announcement drew gasps from the assembled cops.

“It was Tea-Ly who carried out the premeditated murder of Karl Gluck and here’s why; he was not only jealous of Karl’s success in the laundromat business but also became convinced that Gluck was stealing his mail-order dry cleaning ideas. Here’s what happened next; Tea-Ly, a trained pork butcher, lured Gluck into the kitchen on the pretext of discussing starching. There, he bludgeoned him to death with a steam iron, expertly dismembered his body and had the kitchen staff serve it up as doner kebab. It was a busy Friday night. No-one noticed. It was only a matter of hours before the corpse was disposed of without a trace”.
Pirez smiled and shook his head. “How in hell did you figure it all out boss”?

“It was staring you in the face the whole time,” replied Inspector Trump, “The fiancée and the submarine guy were in cahoots with the Chinaman. Together they planned to take over the business once Karl Gluck was declared dead.”

“OK, but what about the Kebab Krazy connection?” asked Pirez, puzzled.
“A red herring. The six men from Kebab Krazy are entirely innocent,” explained Trump, “They were operating an illegal undertaker’s business from a spare bedroom in the back of the Shashlik and they were in a hurry because they were late for a funeral. The reason they were armed was because they were officiating at the cremation of a gangland crime boss who had insisted on fancy-dress.”

Another case solved. As Inspector Trump’s gold ‘57 Cadillac El Dorado roared off into the night, Pirez turned to his fellow officers, “I guess we’ve all learned something today,” he said humbly.

Custody (n) the warm feeling experienced by the victim of a pie-thrower.

Selfie enthusiasts queued for hours to get tickets for the opening of the new Brahma Masala Exhibitionist Yoga Centre on The Ridge. Those lucky enough to attend were offered a month’s trial membership, which included a free tanning/yoga mat and the use of a professional body double during group exercises in the brightly lit, glass-fronted Narcissus room. Exhibitionist Yoga is thought to promote empathy-cleansing, social detachment and elitism, as well as encouraging ego nourishment and self-satisfaction. Membership applications are now closed.

READER: Shame. That sounds right up my street.
MYSELF: Yes it does. Have you tried the Ku Klux Klan?
READER:  Is that similar?
MYSELF:  Broadly.

Sausage Life!

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