TRUST ME!  I’M A PSYCHIC!


     Anyone who watches crime shows knows police are willing to use virtually any means to crack a case, including psychics. What might’ve seemed foreign mere decades ago now seems no more foreign than Arizona as psychics come forth with detailed information, sometimes even about the crime in question. What follows are their most famous cases:


                                                  The Learjet Murder

     The body of part-time tick remover, Minerva Kwontz, was found under the front wheel of a Learjet owned by push-pin millionaire, Darby Krupkus. Because the jet had just landed, Coroner Sitmee Sityou estimated the body hadn’t been there for more than two days. He listed the cause of death “unknown,” but possibly homicide “since tire marks run the length of her eyebrows.”

     Later, Detective Lonnie Marlboro received a call from psychic, Gwen Doe-Lynn.

     “Kwontz’s killer’s in a bronze Camaro. He’s wearing flight attendant wings and demonstrating safety features to a Big Mac.”

     Detective Marlboro immediately put out an A.P.B. for flight attendants owning bronze Camaros who liked B.M.’s (police terminology for Big Macs). In six minutes he arrested person of interest, Dwana Thurmoil instead of Morton Minkmire, who was merely an interesting person.


                                               The Missing Hair Dresser

     Professional beautician and left ear piercer, Madge Twerlinger, disappeared suddenly while doing a particularly difficult rinse. The last person to see her was shop co-owner, Mr. Bruce.

     “She went to check on her mousse order and never returned. It was sooooooooooo stressful! We didn’t notice her missing till her rinse complained her hair seemed more orange than usual,” he told police while twirling a rod.

     Fortunately, he’d been rolling psychic Imaclaire Voyent and immediately handed her Madge’s gallbladder, kept at her station to gross everyone out. Fondling the organ, Imaclaire went into a trance saying, “2-1-6-8¾Pick Four Ohio Lottery; Spunky Hunk to show in the fourth at Santa Anita; Madge is dead.”   

     The police later determined no one liked Madge anyway and the case was closed.


                                               The Heavenly Yodeler                                                               

     Konrad Karl Krieshofer, yodeler and watch dial presser, was presumed dead after an avalanche in the Austrian Alps. “He almost yodeled himself to death before,” daughter Katrina offered, “though on much shorter peaks.”

     At Katrina’s insistence, the Austrian Gemeindesicherheitswache (cops) enlisted

the help of psychic, Kurt Kööööööhler.

     “I see him,” he said, touching one of Konrad’s favorite dryer sheets. “He’s somevere very vite. His hands are cupped¾I mean kupped¾to his mouth und he’s yodeling The Lonely Goatherd in F.” 

    “He’s alive!” Katrina shouted. “In de shnow!”

    “Dat’s not shnow,” Kurt corrected, pausing to adjust a lederhosen wedgie. “He’s yodeling on dat big peak in de shky.”

     “SCHEISSDRECK!!!!” mumbled Katrina, rather politely under the circumstances.

     So there you have it. Proof positive of the credibility of psychics. Of course, there are always those few charlatans who give an entire profession a bad namelike Mortimer Vytecki who predicted Hitler would commit suicide by swallowing a parachute.  Nevertheless, I have a feeling these clairvoyant types will be around for a few more millennia. Maybe I’m psychic.