AN: This is totally unrelated to my other, in-progress Mentalist-based crossover, Prophecy of Blood. Imagine, if you will, that this story takes place in an entirely different universe from that one. As with Prophecy, however, canon be damned.
I am not Dan Brown, so I have no problem saying, any and all errors I make are my own.
And another thing - definitely no online comedians were harmed in the making of this fic.
Enjoy.
Chapter 1
Carmichael, California
March 23, 2020, 12:09pm
Grace Van Pelt emerged from the car carrying her iPad, on which she had paused the YouTube video that had attracted the attention of every law-enforcement team in the area, including the CBI, causing them to converge on a normally quiet suburban neighborhood on an otherwise normal Monday. She ducked under the crime scene tape and, long since inured to the sight of corpses, barely gave the young male on the ground a second glance before swiping her iPad's screen and showing the video to Lisbon and Jane, who were already on the scene and examining the blood-stained tile foyer.
Lisbon and Jane angled their heads to get a glimpse of the video, which was shot in the very same room in which they were all standing. Patrick even recognized the distinctive print on the wall, a shot of the Eiffel Tower from underneath. The black-and-white picture, which looked like something one would find in a suburban housewife's living room, or perhaps a college dorm, didn't gel very well with the video's offbeat, comedic-horror style, which was presented as found footage of two young men, one of whom happened to now be dead, gabbling away about a haunted video that one of them had seen, complete with shots from the "haunted video" in question. They sure did look extremely scary, as even Jane, never one to shy away from creepy things, soon turned away. Except the reason he gave was that "This video is just so...derivative. Juvenile sense of humor. Obvious parody source. It feels like little more than a coincidence."
Lisbon, however, kept watching. "I don't know, Jane," she said. "If not for the fact that this man is dead, well, this would actually be pretty funny, I think. They sure know how to target their audience."
"Never thought you were one for internet comedy, boss," said Cho, who was accompanied by the second web comedian, another young male, with a stubbly face, bright blue eyes, and a bowl cut.
The young man nodded to Lisbon and said, "That's the spirit. Find comedy where it isn't. It's what we always loved to do." He gestured to his fallen buddy.
Lisbon frowned. "And you are...?"
"His name's Ian Hecox," said Cho. "Our dead guy is Anthony Padilla. 25, local native. And as you can see, they are - were - a, uh, world-famous comedy duo on YouTube."
Ian nodded. "You know, we would always pretend to kill ourselves in our videos, and count the number of times we 'died' each year. Never thought it'd ever happen for real."
Cho led Ian out the door into the car so he could go back to the office for interviewing. Jane resumed his scanning of the room, then announced, "This is all a stunt."
"Excuse me?" asked Lisbon.
Jane stuck his finger in the blood puddle around Anthony's body and licked it. "Cackle-Bladder," he said. "No question."
Lisbon's expression was so priceless that Van Pelt surreptitiously snapped a picture on her iPad. This'll make a great new meme, she thought. Meanwhile, Lisbon, after several seconds of stammering, finally got out, "Jane, first off, that's completely disgusting. Second, you just compromised the crime scene! Are you ever going to learn?"
"Look, I know what I know, and that blood is fake," Jane declared. "Test it yourself if you don't believe me, but I'm right here, I know it."
Van Pelt held a finger to Anthony's wrist. "No pulse," she said. "I'd say he's most certainly dead."
"He probably has no wounds anywhere on his body," Jane said. "By the way, Grace, have you lost weight?"
Momentarily taken aback, Van Pelt soon nodded. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I have."
Jane nodded as well. "I thought so. Now you no longer look like a pregnant woman."
Van Pelt blushed brightly and turned her face towards the wall so she couldn't be seen. Lisbon rolled her eyes. "Could we please cut out the childishness?"
"Given the nature of these guys' comedy?" Jane asked. "I think not." He left the room without another word, leaving Lisbon and Van Pelt staring at each other, unaware that Anthony's brown eyes were looking the both of them - but especially Van Pelt - up and down.