A/N: I apologize to fans of "Fairly Zany Tales", but I've been battling massive writer's block coupled with general disinterest. This series, though, I'm SURE to continue, since a) each bit is only a few pages long and b) I've already got ten of these ready to post. I also accept idea submissions.

ALSO: The idea for this was stolen fro—er, ADAPTED from a bit in some of Woody Allen's books called "Match Wits With Inspector Ford", which involved pointlessly bizarre mysteries with even more inexplicably ridiculous solutions.

Without further ado...

Solve Mysteries With Hercule Yakko!

(a collection of oneshots by The Illustrious Crackpot)

The Death of a P-sychiatrist

Inside the Watertower, the phone suddenly began to ring. This was not a particularly good thing, as immediately all three Warners jumped up from whatever they were doing—Yakko abandoning a Marx Brothers movie, Wakko leaping out of the refrigerator, and Dot dropping a teen glamour magazine—with a shout of "I'LL GET IT!!!" After an amazing and highly complicated cartoon tussle which shall not be described, Dot managed to sneak out from the brawl (although covered from head to toe in cheese whip) and snatched up the receiver.

"Hello, Dot's hair salon for gals, please hold," she recited, filing her nails even though they were still covered by her white cartoon gloves. Then she suddenly cocked her head, making her stubby ears flop to the side. "What? Huh. Mm-hmm. Oooooh, sounds painful. Yes...yes...I think so...yes...yes...hold on a minute." Dot lifted up one furry foot and held it up, peering at the bottom, then put her foot back on the floor. "Three and a half. Thanks, I try to keep a slim figure. Uhm-hum. Yeah-huh. Really? What's the recipe? Ohhhhh...okay. Gee. Yup. Ah. Yyyyyyyeah. Bye-bye." She hung up the phone, then turned to her brothers, who were still wrestling in a cloud of dust. Dot raised an eyebrow at the reader, muttered "Boys", then taking in a deep breath, she screamed, "HOLD ITTTTTTT!!!"

Immediately Yakko and Wakko paused, Yakko in the midst of painfully tugging on one of his own ears and Wakko gnawing on his own leg. Both paused, also mysteriously doused with cheese whip, and let go of their body parts. "I was wonderin' why that hurt," Wakko mumbled, spitting out black fur and wiping his mouth.

"Whathzzup, thsis?" Yakko asked garbledly, then with an astonished air he opened his mouth, stuck in a hand and removed a toy taxicab that had somehow gotten in there during the fight. Clearing his throat (and also pausing to remove a box of tissues from his belt loop), he tried again in his usual snappy manner. "What is it, oh sister dear?"

"Yakko! Wakko!" Dot cried in dismay. "Scratchy's been murdered!" Having proclaimed this, she burst into tears. "Now we can't annoy him anymore!"

"Scratchy's been murdered?" Yakko repeated disbelievingly, then stood straight up and thumped a fist on his furry chest. "This sounds like a job for HERCULE YAKKO!"

Yakko spun around once at an incredibly high speed, then stopped, suddenly dressed in a Grecian toga and with a giant sword in one hand and a shield in the other. He looked down at himself, then arched his eyebrows at the author. "I thought you said that spell-checker was fixed," he remarked pointedly, though still grinning.

"Sorry," the author apologized, and in no time at all Yakko was clad in a long brown coat with a matching bowler hat and a monocle for his right eye.

"Thaaaaaaanks," the eldest Warner drawled impishly, then with a sweeping motion of his hand he led into the next scene.

"Hercule Yakko!" cried one of the police officers inside Dr. Scratchansniff's office as Yakko walked in. At the sound, Yakko jumped.

"Where?" he gasped.

The Chief of Police hurried over to him, shaking Yakko's hand vigorously. "Oh, we're so glad you're here, Monsieur Yakko!" he cried with relief. He gestured at the psychiatrist's office around him. "This case is nigh impossible! There's not a clue anywhere!"

"Aaaaaaaaah...lemme see," Yakko decided, extricating his hand from the man's grip and whipping out a magnifying glass. He made a thorough search of the office, inspecting thoroughly every painting, every crack in the wood, the body of Dr. Scratchansniff (M'wah! G'night, everybody!), the contents of Scratchy's wallet, and especially Hello Nurse. Once the master detective was done looking, however, he dusted off his hands and stood before the Chief of Police.

"Mr. Chief of Police—can I call you Chiefy?—I'm sure you can see that this is an open-and-shut case. And please shut it, for crying out loud, there's a terrible draft!" Yakko coughed before continuing. "Chiefy, it's quite clear that the murderer of Dr. Scratchansniff was none other than the Warner Brothers C.E.O., Mr. Plotz!"

How did Hercule Yakko know that the murderer was Mr. Plotz?

Dr. Scratchansniff wasn't actually dead. He'd just passed out after seeing his month's paycheck. Yakko just wanted to bug Plotzy by getting him arrested.