Murder, she typed

"I come from the International Time Travellers Association," she said proudly, but seeing my blank expression she added, "Well, all right, the International Time Travellers and Jaffa-cake Association, but that is hopefully getting changed soon."

I blinked as she removed her furs and a wig, revealing straw coloured hair and a simple dress of blue cotton.

"The ITTJA? We fix paradoxes, have a laff-a and eat boxes of that wonderful Jaffa? Our slogan? Helloooo?"

Somehow, I still felt dubious.

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1. The Self Cleaning Toothbrush

 

When I walked into my boss' office he was asleep on top of the desk.

Coughing loudly, I gently closed the door behind me.

"Aha," he smiled without opening his eyes, "The cat, come for it's prey. Well I payed the rent yesterday so there."

"It's me Mr Macelldo, you asked me to come in, remember?" The fan from the corner of the room whirred, stirring the hot, stuffy air absent-mindedly around the space.

"You have a visitor and they are disturbing my meditation." Macelldo whispered sadly.

I backed out of the room and shut the door, wondering for my employer's sanity. As I walked to the desk, a slender woman of at least six foot slid in front of me. Her eyebrow was raised and she was dressed glamourously, with oestentatious furs and jewellery. She looked important.

"Are you Miss Private?" she drew herself to her full height and stared at me haughtilly.

I nodded.

"I have a case for you to solve," she whispered dramatically, "A... murder! Can you solve it?"

A short pause followed, in which I could hear Mr Macelldo humming loudly.

"Excuse me?" I said eventually, "Why would I solve it?"

The woman smiled at me pityingly and told me that I was the best detective in the county.

"No I'm not," I replied, "I'm a web designer. I work with computers."

The strange woman blinked several times and spoke slowly as if I was stupid, "My dear, this is 45 Detective Row, is it not?"

I nodded.

"And you're last name is Private?'

I nodded.

"And it is 1925 and this is a detective agency, correct?" she stared at me with unblinking eyes.

"Ah... no. It's a web design company and it's 2013."

At this the woman said a surprisingly rude word in a much harsher accent and muttered something about "stupid Fred, got the dates wrong".

"Perhaps you would like to sit down, Miss...?" I offered.

The woman grabbed me by the wrist and dragged me out the door into an alleyway near a large dustbin. She started muttering again, but this time in an american accent that sounded like she was from New York. As I stood there, trying to free myself from her surprisingly strong grasp, I asked (shouted really. I am ashamed to say I was scared) who she was.

"I come from the International Time Travellers Association," she said proudly, but seeing my blank expression she added, "Well, all right,  the International Time Travellers and Jaffa-cake Association, but that is hopefully getting changed soon."

I blinked as she removed her furs and a wig, revealing straw coloured hair and a simple dress of blue cotton.

"The ITTJA? We fix paradoxes, have a laff-a and eat boxes of that wonderful Jaffa? Our slogan? Helloooo?" she seemed to be about about mid twenties and completely insane.

I must have still looked dubious, because the woman added, "We were the ones that invented the self-cleaning oven y'know. Wow, if you don't believe me now, you live under a rock."

Another pause.

"Well we invented the jaffa-cake too but I suppose that's obvious…"

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