Who watches the cheese, indeed? Here’s a bit of nonsense:
Night. Dairyville. At the scene of the crime. The lanky detective ducks under the crime scene tape.
Detective Leicester: What do we have here?
Sergeant Fromage: (Annoyed) What’s it look like detective?
Detective Leicester: Quesocide. Witnesses?
Sergeant Fromage: (nods meaningfully towards a couple of civilians standing at the curb with a uniformed officer) They saw the whole thing.
Detective Leicester: (Now, inexplicably wearing a different coat, walks toward a totally different curb) Hello. My name is Detective Leceister, and I’d like to ask you a few questions.
Female Witness: (Holding a cat, bizarrely, out on the street at night.) I saw everything, detective, they shot him!
Detective Leicester: (Younger, now, and an entirely different actor) Alright ma’am, who shot him?
Female Witness: (The cat has a mustache) I didn’t see anything mister!
Detective Leicester: (Back to the original actor, with one sleeve on fire, there is no longer a crime scene behind him, and it is day) Of course, Rebecca, my mistake.
Sergeant Fromage: (The actor replaced with a plate of sliced cheese sitting in the middle of the road. The sliced cheese gazes into the camera, probably) Quis Custodiet Ipsos Casei?
Fin.
