Murder Mystery In The Clubhouse!

20250428

Prompt from DailyPrompt.com

Jack wasn’t allowed to play with dolls; it made his parents worry, and his classmates mean, and his teachers uncomfortable.
So he kept his secret stash of dolls in the clubhouse he’d built on the waste ground out back. An endeavour his parents approved of. And there, in wooden crates tied tight with good scout knots, he hid everything he wasn’t allowed.
Dolls. Mementos of his babyhood he’d smuggled out of the charity bag. A whittling knife. Comic books.
Today was sunny and he was comfortably tired out from football practice. So he’d brought a big bottle of lemonade and some snacks out to his clubhouse to enjoy a lazy few hours until dinner.
The latest comic - slipped to him by Brian, who was a true legend - was a murder mystery story. Jack devoured it, riveted to the page until the final reveal. Then he realised he’d barely touched his snacks.
Combined with the charming old-time setting buzzing in his brain this naturally lead to him setting up a “fancy dinner”. All the dolls seated at the table were in their best attire. Striking new hats were the order of the day. (Fortunately there were plenty of flowers and big leaves around the plot.) And Jack was of course the host, the master of the house, suavely serving everyone wine and hors d’oeuvres. But unlike in the story he’d be able to solve the mystery himself. No need for a detective!
The plate moved around the table, stopping in front of each doll. Who would take the poisoned crisp? (He had carefully selected one with a big dark patch on one side, and placed it so that side was down.) And who had put the poison there??
If only he could get the game of Cluedo from the lounge. But if anyone saw him they’d demand to know why he was taking a boardgame to play by himself. He’d just have to keep track of the unfolding story in his head.
Mrs Bubbles was making cutting remarks about Mrs Sunshine’s hat, which was slightly wilted. Mrs Sunshine took her annoyance out on the meek Mrs Plum, who was inwardly seething towards both of them. And Mrs Baldy was trying to keep the peace, pleasing nobody, and secretly feeling superior to everyone else.
Once again Jack wished there were boy dolls. The story felt lopsided with him being the only man at the party. Maybe the four could be his daughters? No, someone trying to murder their sister was too grim. Especially if he was going to uncover the murder.
He supposed they could be fighting for his hand? Like those two in the story. Alright, that worked.
Mrs Baldy was the victim! Everyone raised their arms in shock.
Jack earnestly reassured them. “Don’t panic, ladies. Don’t panic.” He stroked his invisible moustache. “I will get to the bottom of-”
“Jack! Dinner!”
Ah! Shoot!
The mystery was swept back into the boxes. All contraband hidden and the feast gulped down. “Coming!”

Prompt was “Your character throws an innocent teaparty, but serves something that causes quite a controversy.”