"Burn in hell, you filthy foreign slut!" the lady with the black gloves laughs.
"Why are you doing this?" Snow White cries.
The host's wife looses balance. She falls. Her head hits the ground. Her glass with "punch" shatters into pieces...
Ok, I lied earlier: this is indeed a murder. But you need to know this to understand the rest, so...
The lady with the black gloves rings the bell.
"You rang, my lady?" the butler enters the room.
"Charles, clean this up. Murdering someone always makes such a mess."
"Yes, my lady," he bows.
"Oh, and Charles?", the woman says, "If my son asks: his wife ran off with one of the servants.... With Frank."
"I'll immediatly pack my things," the poor servant hurries.
"That won't be necessary, dear..."
The lady with the black gloves grabs the gun hidden under her dress. BANG!
"Charles, clean that up as well," she yawns.
"Yes, my lady."
The lady with the black gloves returns to the party.
"Blood stains are so difficult to remove," Charles grumbles.
The bulter doesn't feel like spending hours on cleaning, so he rolls the bodies in the carpet. Using a wheelbarrow. he dumps the body borrito at the usual place: a shallow grave in the Ruby Forrest.
"You're in good compagny, Mrs.," Charles takes of his hat, "On your right there's the old witch's husband and next to him are all the boss' ex-girlfriends... Frank, take care of Snow white, will you?"
He lays a red rose on the graves and waddles back.
"Blood stains are so difficult to remove," Charles grumbles.
The bulter doesn't feel like spending hours on cleaning, so he rolls the bodies in the carpet. Using a wheelbarrow. he dumps the body borrito at the usual place: a shallow grave in the Ruby Forrest.
"You're in good compagny, Mrs.," Charles takes of his hat, "On your right there's the old witch's husband and next to him are all the boss' ex-girlfriends... Frank, take care of Snow white, will you?"
He lays a red rose on the graves and waddles back.
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