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The other night I was talking to Mr M, and he informed me he'd just woken up. He was watching TV and fell asleep in his chair. He was watching "Mystery!" on PBS.

I feel it's a little bit of false advertising for PBS to put an exclamation point at the end of "Mystery!" In fact, "Mystery?" would be more appropriate. They've gone way downhill in the excitement department.

"Mystery!" used to proudly claim its exclamation point. They were full of Sherlock Holmes, Agatha Christie, Rumpole of the Bailey (a formative figure indeed), and that one with John Thaw, "The White-Haired Detective Who Had A Sensitive Side And Always Outwitted Both His Foes And His Dumb Young Partner." It wasn't called quite that, but I can't remember exactly what it was called. And Adam Dalgliesh, he was something.

The last time I saw "Mystery!" was just a few weeks ago. The DeepFatFriar and I sat on the couch at Mr M's house and watched "The Inspector Lynley Mysteries." Well, we watched half of it. And after that half was over, we still couldn't figure out which one was Inspector Lynley, so I went home and I'm not sure what DFF did, but I don't think it consisted of continuing to watch the show.

Oh! Inspector Morse. That's who John Thaw played.

Anyway, back to the other night, when Mr M fell asleep. He mainly fell asleep because once again during this show he'd already figured everything out and lost interest. And he concluded with, "I could do a better mystery."

And I think he may be right.

After all, he has a deerstalker cap. That seems to be about all it takes to get your own mystery on "Mystery!" these days.

I told him it was a fine idea, but that he'd need a sidekick for his mystery solving capers. I suggested Sherman. Because let's face it, if your hero is as grumpy as Mr M, you need a bright young red-headed cartoon character at his side for some warm-fuzzy relief.

He liked the idea, and we decided Sherman could have his own cape, and magnifying glass, and that Mr M would wear his deerstalker, and possibly a tweed jacket with elbow patches. He has one of those, too. And they could roam the countryside, solving mysteries in big antebellum homes and quiet cottages in the wilderness.

However.

However, Mr M will only be a detective if he can don his Captain A persona. This worries me a bit. I'm afraid he'll want to wear his Capt. A outfit, and somehow, that's just a little undignified for PBS. I think I'll agree to it only if we create a backstory wherein the "Captain" comes from his old army days. Say, back during World War I (it can't be World War II or I'll fall asleep), he was in the Army Band.

So at this point, I guess I have no choice but to write the idea down and send it to PBS.

"Captain And Boy," a Continuing Saga

1928....

It's late in the afternoon in the charming village of Evanside. Captain A, retired from the Army Band and now teaching, has taken his favorite student Sherman, a bright young red-headed cartoon character, for a walk through the woods to search for cane with which to make clarinet reeds. As they walk along, they begin to hear the sweet sounds of a clarinet playing in the distance. They cannot resist, and walk towards the sound.

As they get to within sight of the cottage where the clarinet sounds are coming from, all goes suddenly silent. The two wait, holding their cane. They look at each other. Sherman suggests they investigate; if they cannot get the player to continue his music, at least they can ask him where in the woods the best cane is.

They approach the cottage, and find the door ajar. "The door's ajar," whispers Captain A. "No it's not, it's a door," replies Sherman. Capt. A rolls his eyes slightly and pushes the door open enough for them both to enter the cottage. There in the study of the small home they find a man sprawled out onto the flowered carpet, lifeless. His clarinet is beside him.

"My God!" exclaims Captain A. "He dropped his clarinet in the floor!" He immediately goes to the clarinet to check it for any damage.

"Captain?" Sherman asks, quietly. "The man - I think he's sick. I think he's... he's... dead!"

"Hmmm, so he is," says Capt. A, feeling for a pulse. Rising, he looks at the music stand. "Franz Danzi. Not many would be brave enough to take this on." He looks at the body again. The man is a stranger to him. He touches the clarinet reed gingerly. "It's still wet - this man has just expired. And I suspect foul play." "Foul play?" asks Sherman. "You said it yourself. He was playing Franz Danzi. I think he probably just keeled over." "Sherman, no man with a Rossi clarinet and a Gonzalez #4 reed would just keel over, even during a Danzi piece. This man was murdered!"

"Quick, give me your cape, Sherman, and let's get this clarinet off the floor before it gets damp."

"But shouldn't we call the police, Captain? I mean, that clarinet is evidence."

"We'll call them from home. The police don't appreciate clarinets."

And so the two head back to the small bungalow of the Captain's, and phone the police. The police, of course, agree with Sherman's initial diagnosis, that the man died of natural causes. So Captain A and Sherman retire to the Captain's specially equipped Music Laboratory, where they test the horn for fingerprints. And they find an amazing discovery.

"This is an amazing discovery!" says Capt. A. "There's enough arsenic on this reed to wipe out the entire New York Philharmonic!" Sherman gasps. "So it was murder!" he says, barely audible. "You bet your ligature it was," replies the Captain.

The next morning, Sherman arrives at the Captain's. The Captain is playing the clarinet.

"Captain? Are you playing the evidence?" Sherman asks. "Well...yes. Maybe it will give us some clues," replies Capt. A. "Hmm. Maybe it'll give you a cheap thrill," says Sherman. "I thought we were going to take the evidence to the police. Besides, you know you can't keep that clarinet. It wouldn't be right." "Right? Would it be right to take it the police and have it sit in the evidence room, gathering dust, for months on end?" bellowed Captain A. "Well, actually, yes it would," says Sherman. And so the two head off to the police station.

They present the police with the clarinet and reed, and their discovery that the strange clarinet player was indeed murdered. The police take these and stick them in the evidence room, dust puffing out as the door closes. Capt A shudders. They tell the Captain and Sherman that they've identified the man, that his name is Phillip Cooper.

"Phillip Cooper?" Captain A is shocked. "Lips Cooper? My God - he's a legend. He was with the Cleveland Symphony. He could hold a high C for fifteen minutes. He could flutter-tongue 'The Flight of the Bumblebee' at 188 beats per minute!" Sherman is shocked. "188 . Captain, a man doesn't play 'Flight of the Bumblebee' at 188 and not make a lot of enemies."

Our Two Heroes head back home for duet practice, and decide to stop at the new music shop on the way home. They've not checked it out yet, and have heard it's full of solos by all the old masters and out-of-print music from France and Germany. They go inside and meet the owner, Larrs Kamms. He smiles sweetly, pats Sherman on the head, and gives him a piece of candy. He shows the two stacks and stacks of music. There is a box on the top shelf behind Herr Kamms, a box Capt A reminds the man he's forgotten to show them. "No. Is not music," he says, smiling. "Is just... some old photos of special meaning to myself."

Sherman looks at a particularly hard piece and remarks that Lips Cooper had probably played it before. "Do you know who Phillip Cooper is? He's a legend," Sherman asks Larrs. "Nein. Nein. Have never heard of this Cooper," the man replies, suddenly quite curt. "Is lots of music here - you pick something to play."

Captain A raises an eyebrow. "Do you have anything by - Franz Danzi?"

Larrs Kamms suddenly explodes. "Nein! No Franz Danzi in my shop! I have no Franz Danzi!"

The Captain and Sherman leave the shop. "He's an odd sort," says Sherman. "He was so nice, and then he got all mad. Captain? Capt A?" But the Captain is lost in thought. "Sherman, how would you like to come over tonight? You meet me at the bungalow at 9:00. And bring your magnifying glass." "Oh, boy!" says Sherman excitedly, and runs off home.

Sherman returns to the Captain's bungalow at 9:00 sharp. It is dark. Captain A picks up Sherman, puts him in the pocket of his jacket, and walks to the music store. He pulls Sherman out. "OK, boy, time for you to go into action." He shows Sherman the keyhole on the front door of the shop. Sherman squeezes through it, but gets his rather large head stuck.

"My head's stuck!" Sherman whispers. "Well, can you feel around in there to pick the lock?" inquires Capt A. In short order, the boy has tripped the lock, and the two are inside the darkened shop.

Mr M takes out a flashlight and shines it on the top shelf of the wall, to the box he'd asked to see earlier in the day. "But that's Herr Kamms' special memories," says Sherman. "Well, I have a hunch, boy. Let's see just what his special memories are. You need to get to the top shelf and hand me that box." And so Sherman bounces a few times on the counter, then boings himself up on the top shelf. He jumps back down, and the box lands on top of him, smashing him flat. "Little help here, please," mumbles Sherman. Captain A lifts the box off Sherman, and the boy pops back into shape. "The things you get me into, Captain A."

Still holding the flashlight, Capt A removes the lid of the box. Inside are a few pieces of sheet music, programs from various symphony concerts, old reeds, and some newspaper clippings. He makes random "hmm" sounds as he goes through them.

"Aha!" he whispers as he shines his light on a clipping announcing the arrival in Philadelphia of the Cleveland Symphony. They were to be playing a concert there some 20 years before. In the photo, out front, was Lips Cooper.

"Captain A, Captain A," rushes Sherman. "He did know Lips Cooper!"

"Not only that, my boy," says the Captain. "Look at this." He points to the back row, to a shadowy figure, barely visible. It was Larrs Kamms.

"Holy cats! Are you sure that's him?" asks Sherman. "100 %, my boy," says Captain A. "And listen to this." He began to read, "'The Symphony will feature Phillip Cooper performing ''Variations on a Theme From Mozart's Don Giovanni,'' by Franz Danzi.'"

They take the box and rush to the police station to convince the officers strange things are afoot with music shop owner Larrs Kamms. The police, with Captain A and Sherman in tow, pay Herr Kamms a visit. When confronted, Kamms folds like a cheap card table.

"I come to America to be famous clarinetist. I go to Cleveland, I make beautiful music. I deserve to have big solos. But no! They hire Phillip Cooper! They give him big solos, make him star. And they make me play alto clarinet. I am excellent musician, I am famous in Germany! And they make me play alto clarinet!" Herr Kamms begins to weep. "Alto clarinet."

He continues. "I find Herr Cooper has retired secretly to Evanside. I come here to find him. To find him and talk, only talk. To ask why he takes my space in Symphony. When I get to his house, I find him there. He is playing Franz Danzi. I cannot contain my anger. I send him for me a glass of water, then produce arsenic I just happen to have on my person. I put it on his thick #4 Gonzalez reed. In my wrath I have killed Herr Cooper."

"In your wrath?" screams Captain A. "You brought that arsenic with you specifically to kill one of the great clarinet players of all time! This is a classic case of premeditated murder! Take this man away, out of my sight!"

The police handcuff Larrs Kamms and lead him away. As he passes Sherman, the boy looks at him, then shakes his dropped head. "You could have practiced more. You could have been the best at the alto clarinet. But no, you took the wrong way, Mr Kamms. You got any more candy on you?"

As the police head away to the station, Captain A looks at the chief of police. "You think I could have that 'evidence?' It's getting awfully dusty."

"Well, we'll see," replies the chief.

Captain A and Sherman then walk in the direction of the Captain's bungalow. As they get smaller in the distance we hear, "Sherman, I'm feeling like a duet. How about you?"

The End

I don't think "Mystery!" could turn this one down.

Tonight's story is dedicated to Mr M, whose birthday is today. Happy birthday, Mr M!

Betland's Olympic Update:
* Acrowinners, we have acrowinners. So, tell me about the toilet.
- Honorable Mention goes to no one, since only two people played. The rest of you must have been fixing your toilets.
- Runner-Up goes to Kellie (with an ie), and her, "Fantastic Bowl Of Excretion Juices. Toilet!!"
- And this week's winner goes to LilyG, with her, "Floating ball object -- eternally jammed. Tosser."
- Thanks to all who played - you've all done very well!