"If I see one more pink boa today, I'm going to throw this can of green slime
all over it!"
"Are you crazy, Ethel? The fashion police will be on you in a flash.
And you know how they treat offenders."
"Don't care! Oooh -- there's another boa. Here goes...
the neighbourhood." Well, never mind. Anything goes these days, so fashion as we know it no longer exists -- at least, that's what Ethel figured. Anyway, when the latest fashion book came out, what did we see but...
pink boa hats on small furry animals. "Really, now," said Ethel, "do those critters need hats when their heads are already covered in fur?" Her suspicions turned out to be well-founded, as, the following week, stories started turning up in local newspapers about missing pets and fat boas.
"Wait a minute!" cried Ethel's friend Raine, "you mean those animals
were wearing boa constrictors?"
"What? No. Don't be ridiculous. It just turns out the boas have
developed a taste for boas. The green slime I started throwing around
turned out to be snake food, which may have had something to do with it."
"But I thought small rodents were snake food?"
"Ordinarily, sure, but this stuff, they just love it. It's like
snake sugar and snake booze all in one. As for the missing house pets,
well, what do you think those non-snake boas are made of?"
"Um... waffles?"
"Close, but no, they're actually made of chickens, and as fate would
have it, chickens are very popular as pets around here. Case closed."
"But you haven't actually identified who's been making the boas,"
pointed out the local detective; but Ethel would have none of it.
There wasn't time for any more solving; her soaps were on.