Sorry about my absence last week, I was sick and then needed some time out. Sue me if you like. Rubbish has been sending abusive texts all week and apparently Braja was distraught. It’s nice to be missed.

Anyway, while I’ve been absent the Theakstons Old Peculier Crime Writing Festival (Harrogate) has had a programme launch. Old Peculier, incidentally, is one of my favourite beers.

Quoting from the launch page:This year, in an exciting new collaboration to mark the programme launch, festival-sponsor Theakstons Old Peculier has teamed up with six of the UK’s leading crime writers to create a series of limited edition labels on bottles of their famous ale. The authors – Val McDermid, Mark Billingham, Stuart MacBride, Simon Kernick, NJ Cooper and Simon Beckett – were tasked with writing a brand new crime story for the back of the beer bottle. The twist? They could only use ten words.

Esther Leach, of Yorkshire Life, challenged us, the laypeople, to write a ten word crime story, and even suggested there might be a pint for the best one. Blimey. I texted a couple of mates and here’s what they came up with. Some take a few liberties regarding apostrophes, but I’ll let them off:

  • Mum’s boyfriend’s still missing. He would’ve liked the new patio. (Flix)
  • Dog ate dog food. Tin unopened. No sign of Trevor. (Flix)
  • “Can’t…unnh…breathe…you’re…standing…on…my…unnh…unnh…” “Throat?” (Flix)
  • BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! “Er, you missed.” (Flix)
  • The scream, the shot, Mother had been murdered by Father. (Maryanne)
  • Never saw his killer. Friend jailed. But it was me. (Ray)
  • While stamping books, she saw the body in the library. (Edward)
  • She saw the murder but was the silent witness: mute. (Bion)
  • Inspector flatulence examined the assembled family and pronounced them drunk. (Peet)
  • Murderous crowd, hauled him high, nailing him to the cross. (Danny)
  • Man steals can of baked beans from local Sainsbury’s store. (Di Marco)
  • Whirlwind bereft of mercy buffeted:Wallet gorged; my curses drank! (Jamie)

Jamie then moved into a league of his own, telling a tale about smuggling illegal aliens while using the numbers one to ten:

  • Juan, to free foreigners, thrived successfully, serving native ninnies tension.

My own entries:

  • House asleep, shadows creep, floorboards creak. Crunch…crumbs…biscuits gone.
  • Stormy night, frantic quacks. A duck, dead, killed by Fred. (no collection of crime stories is complete without a gruesome farmyard murder)
  • Dead man found with crow in his mouth. RSPCB outraged.
  • Jack killed Jill on the hill then swallowed deadly pill.
  • Inspector baffled. Hotel and guests vanish. Replaced by butchers.

Go on, write me a ten word crime story. I know there are some brilliant minds among you.

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