Who stole the Pie.

On a splendid Saturday in the summer of 2024, the enchanting village of Sutton Poyntz brimmed with enthusiasm and anticipation for its much-loved annual summer fete. Residents gathered under the brilliant azure sky, their excitement palpable as they prepared for a day brimming with festivities and fun. This particular year, all eyes were particularly drawn to the marquee, where the highly anticipated Pie Making Contest was on the verge of unfolding.

The six contestants, Professor Plumbline, Miss Scarletti, Mrs. Peapod, Mr. Greengrass, Colonel Mustard Pot, and Mrs. Whitehead each proudly presented their extraordinary pie creations, with each pastry serving as a unique testament to their culinary artistry and boundless imagination. The pies were displayed with great care on a small table, each one shrouded in mystery, as no one was privy to the identity of the bakers until the town mayor arrived to render his judgment. Secrecy was paramount.

The entries for this year's contest were both creative and unconventional: there was a four-foot tall pie shaped like a candlestick, a pie designed to resemble a machete, a steel mallet pie, a spanner-shaped pie, a double-barreled shot gun pie, and lastly, a pie crafted in the shape of a spade. The villagers buzzed with delightful speculation, eagerly engaging in animated discussions about which pie would ultimately secure the coveted £1000 prize.

As the mayor stepped into the marquee, excitement swiftly morphed into shock and incredulity. One of the pies had mysteriously disappeared! Gone! Vanished! The magnificent four-foot candlestick pie had evaporated without a trace, leaving gasps of astonishment in its wake. A thick silence settled over the crowd as they exchanged bewildered glances, a potent mix of confusion, apprehension, and scepticism hanging heavily in the air.

"Who or what on earth could possibly commit such an audacious act of theft, Day light robbery that's what it is, naked day light robbery!"?" Mrs. Peapod bellowed, her voice quavering with disbelief. "Especially a pie as grand and imposing as that candlestick!"

"Perhaps this theft arises from jealousy," suggested Professor Plumbline, thoughtfully adjusting his spectacles. "In my honest opinion that pie was undoubtedly destined for victory. Who among us would resort to such dastardly tactics to sabotage the competition?"
Miss Scarletti, renowned for her sharp intellect and keen observations, interjected, "Or it might very well be Denis the Dip. We all know he's been lurking about the village, waiting for any chance to stir up trouble, I do not trust that little scallywag"

Denis the Dip was infamous for his thieving exploits and mischievous and spiteful exploits, his shadowy presence casting a pall over the day's festivities. Yet, the villagers soon realized that Denis was not the only suspect in this puzzling case.

"Let's not forget about Squire McCalluster's Alsatian," Mr. Greengrass suggested, eyeing the nearby manor house. "That dog has been known to roam the village, and he has quite the appetite for anything resembling food. What if he caught a whiff of that delicious pie and helped himself?"

"True," replied Colonel Mustard Pot, his brow furrowed in thought. "But what about those pesky seagulls? They have been particularly bold lately. I saw one perched on the marquee top earlier, eyeing the pies. It's entirely possible that one of those feathered bandits swooped in for a quick snack!"

The idea of a seagull pilfering the pie made the villagers chuckle, but Colonel Mustard Pot knew they couldn't overlook any potential suspects. "And let's not forget the squirrels," he added. "I've seen a whole family of them darting around the village. They're crafty little blighters and could easily have scurried in and out before anyone noticed."

As the atmosphere thickened with anticipation and suspicion, Colonel Mustard Pot decided to take charge of the investigation. "We need to examine the area for any potential clues that might reveal the truth behind this bizarre theft," he suggested, his keen eyes scanning the marquee. He quickly picked up on several intriguing details: a set of muddy paw prints leading away from the table, a few feathers scattered on the ground, and a faint aroma of burnt sugar wafting through the air.

"Who was the last person seen near the candlestick pie?" he hollered, directing his attention to the contestants. Each one had their own motives of course, but the scattered clues might just reveal the hidden truth.

"I was admiring the craftsmanship of that pie," Mr. Greengrass admitted, his voice earnest and sincere. "It was truly a remarkable creation!"

Colonel Mustard Pot, with his brow furrowed in concentration, added, "I was just about to take a closer look when I noticed it was gone. Who could be so audacious?"

Mrs. Whitehead appeared increasingly anxious, wringing her hands nervously. "I merely wanted to win! But I would never resort to stealing," she fervently insisted, her sincerity was in doubt.

As Colonel Mustard Pot pieced together the fragments of information, his focus shifted back to the muddy paw prints. They clearly indicated that a creature had ventured outside. "We should investigate the surroundings," he suggested, gesturing for the group to follow him as they ventured outside the marquee. "Come on you lot let's find this thieving blighter, by gadzooks" he shouted.

As they approached the nearby hedgerow, they were startled to discover Denis the Dip, crouched low and attempting to conceal the magnificent candlestick pie behind him. "What's going on here?" Colonel Mustard Pot exclaimed, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Caught in the act, are we: answer me boy"


Denis glanced up, panic flooding his features. "I was just... borrowing it! I thought it would make a splendid addition to my collection," he stammered, but the villagers were far from convinced by his flimsy excuse. "You are talking absolute rot you, thieving little scoundrel" shouted Colonel Mustard Pot.

"Why would you choose to steal that particular pie?" The colonel pressed, arms crossed in determination. "You surely knew it was destined to win, and you were well aware of the stakes involved, dim as you are."

Denis sighed heavily, his bravado crumbling. "Alright, fair cop I confess! I wanted to sabotage the contest. I had overheard rumours that the candlestick pie was crafted by Miss Scarletti, and I thought that if I stole it, it would ruin her chances of winning. I don't like Miss Scarletti. Last week she reported me to the police for smoking a bit of weed outside the Post Office. Stinking grass"

Just then, Squire McCalluster arrived, a concerned look on his face. "I heard there was a bit of trouble. My Alsatian has been acting strangely all afternoon. I found him sniffing around the marquee earlier. Do you think he could have gotten away with the pie he loves pies!"

Before anyone could respond, a loud shriek echoed above them, and a large seagull swooped down, landing on a nearby fence post. It squawked loudly, as if taunting the villagers, and the Colonel couldn't help but wonder if the bird had played a role in the pie's disappearance. They are scavengers by nature.

The villagers were taken aback by Denis's confession, but with the pie recovered and the culprit revealed, they returned to the marquee, where the mayor resumed his judging duties with a renewed sense of purpose. With a clear conscience restored, the mayor decided that the contest could proceed, and as Miss Scarletti was revealed to be the creator of the candlestick pie, she was rightfully awarded the prize.

As the summer sun began to set over the horizon in Sutton Poyntz, casting a warm glow over the festivities, the villagers celebrated not only the triumph of integrity over mischief but also the unifying spirit of community that had brought them all together. Despite the theft and deception that had unfolded throughout the day, serendipity shone brightly, reminding everyone of the joy and camaraderie that could still be found amidst the chaos of life.