A cold and cloudy morning at 2:00; I could feel slight drops of water, trickle onto my plaid coat. As my tail bobbed up and down across the streets of England, I made my way to a mysterious crime scene, the death of Lady Haussnfeffer!

Murder... the smell of it around every dark corner, creeping in; waiting for the right moment to strike bloody! The Lady's unusual disappearance had my brown ears sharp, for even the slightest cry of a dying rabbit.

"Detective Furlock Combs?" said Dr. Swatson, "You need to see this!"

I ran so fast on my four little legs to see what had happened.

"Oh, my..." I whispered, shocked.

There, laying limp on the dining table, was the skin of Lady Haussnfeffer. It had been nearly a day, and this was the closest thing we had to the lady and her misfortunate death. Her only remains were her skin and bones-and anything, "inedible".

Interesting... I thought.

Later that evening, as I sipped my hot carrot juice, I was continplaning the mystery-murder of Lady Haussnfeffer. My nose caught the delicious scent of boiled vegetables and a very peculiar smell I recognized from somewhere. I looked at my landlord, Sherlock Holmes, and nearly tossed my juice; the smell was haussnfeffer stew! (He said it was very delicious)

"SHERLOCK!!!" I squeaked, as I karate-chopped the metal spoon into his guilty looking face.

"OOOUUCCCHHH!" Sherlock yelled.

Unfortunately, he heard only, squeak squeaking from me. After all, I am a rabbit. (A very intelligent one though!)

"Arghh! You naughty rabbit!" he breathed," I'm sorry-Furlock, you must be hungry, watching me eat..."

Sometimes, Sherlock, even though he is considered one of the biggest brains I know, he can be slow in his own deduction on what is going on.

"...anyhow, I had found---"He stopped abruptly. I could see the lights turn on in his brain. "Oh, I'm sorry; was this someone you knew?!" Sherlock said, right after he stuffed his cheeks with a big spoonful of chunky stew.

I sighed, frustrated. Right at that moment, Dr.Watson walked into the room.

"My gosh Sherlock! What happened to your FACE?!" Dr.Watson shouted.

Sherlock glared at the doctor, not afraid to punch him square in the nose, leaving just as bad of a scar. Sherlock threw his hat at Dr.Watson instead and continued to examine the newspaper for new crime scenes to examine. The last time Sherlock threw a punch at Dr.Watson, Mrs. Hudson was forced to grab the frying pan. (also known as WW1)

The death of Lady Haussnfeffer was a mysterious case, and an interesting one too. As I trot down the sidewalk of 221b Baker Street, I think about my part in solving the case of the Lady Haussnfeffer.