Gerhard’s Reviews > Revenge of the Wrought-Iron Flamingos > Status Update

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” I said. “He wasn’t exsanguinated; he just lost a little blood.”
“That’s what exsanguinated means,” Monty said.
“No, exsanguinated means drained of blood, like what vampires do,” I said.

“I don’t have to guess,” I said. “That writing just told me. That’s not Greek, it’s Elvish.”
“Elvish?”
“Or maybe Elven; I forget which is correct. It’s been years. Ever read Tolkien?”

“Don’t tell me your unit is one of those that just shows up to fire off your guns and drink beer?”
“I beg your pardon! The Gatinois chasseurs are not anything like that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“We’re French; we just show up to wave our swords around and drink champagne.”

Four out-of-town relatives were breakfasting in the gazebo on the back lawn and throwing scraps to the family peacock flock, which was a bad idea, actually. The peacocks already had their benefactors outnumbered, with more appearing all the time. Had these people never seen The Birds?

“I’ll talk to my dad when I get the chance,” I said, backing away. “He’s not a crank, just an avid mystery reader.”
“There’s a difference?” Monty muttered, to my departing back.

“Nearly everybody in town is cousins,” I said. “You’ve got to make allowances for inbreeding, Monty. We’re actually not that bad. You should see some of the cousins we hide in the attics.”

“Nearly everybody in town is cousins,” I said. “You’ve got to make allowances for inbreeding, Monty. We’re actually not that bad. You should see some of the cousins we hide in the attics.”

Rob hung around underfoot, pretending to help out, while lying in wait for opportunities to pull out one of the flamingos and wave it around. I’d turn around to find a flamingo head peeking out through the opening in the back curtains or peering around the side of the booth.

“They passed a rule outlawing plastic lawn ornaments,” I explained. “Mrs. Fenniman feels they were targeting her plastic flamingo herd.”

“Yeah, I know,” Amanda said. “October 19, 1781. The British finally throw in the towel and surrender to George Washington and the Revolutionary War is over. Whoopty-do. Let freedom ring, except for my people, who had to wait another eighty years. So what’s with the sound effects?”