The Detective

She was tastier than the tastiest chocolate you’d ever eaten.
Her legs, her fabulous legs went on forever, slowly turning into a large, crumbly muffin.
The word muffintop had never been used to describe something as beautiful.
She walked through the door, barely squeezing through, the sides of her muffin body crumbling against the walls of the door.
She didn’t sit down, there was only one chair big enough for a muffin to fit in.
“Mr. Studmuffin,” she said, her voice sweet, much like the pieces of chocolate that stuck out of her body like warts. Sexy, delicious warts.
“Mr. Studmuffin, I need your help.” she squeaked.
“What is it, sexy legs?”
“It’s my father… he… he tried to eat me.” those last few words came out as barely concealed sobs.
“The damned fool!!” I slammed my fist on the table. “I’ll get him, I swear.”
Looks like another job for Studmuffin, P.I.

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