I think it may be a little obvious that I'm going through a tough period. The stories I am writing now are a little dark and odd. Some of the chapters I post may be weird too, but I guess I'm just experimenting. This may be a little odd… It's a one shot mystery about a killer. It's based off one of my favorite songs' Maxwell's silver hammer" by The Beatles. Tell me what you think, honestly… ITS ODD.. BUT I had an idea so i ran with it

Joan was quizzical, studied pataphysical
Science in the home
Late nights all alone with her a test tube
Oh, oh, oh, oh
Maxwell Edison, majoring in medicine
Calls her on the phone
"Can I take you out to the pictures Jo-o-o-oan?"
But as she's getting ready to go
a knock comes on the door – The Beatles- Maxwell's silver hammer.

Grissom ducked under the crime scene tape and headed into the building. They were at the University of Nevada's large campus, it was apparent that something besides studying was in the air. Inside Catherine Willow's was knelt near the body and Sara Sidle was dusting the room with Grissom's beloved red creeper.

"What do we have so far?" He asked as he set his case down.

"Looks like blunt force trauma, but with all this blood I'm going to leave it up to the doc." Catherine answered as she opened he kit, removed her gloves, bagged them, and put on new ones.

"Wow… pataphysical science." Sara gasped. She wrinkled her forehead and looked at Grissom. "This girl had QUITE an imagination. The theory of theories."

"Or the study of parody." Grissom corrected.

"They don't offer that in Universities do they?" Catherine asked as David arrived to bag the body.

"If they did… I would major in it." Sara remarked.

"Yeah you majored in Smart-ass 101.: Warrick joked as he entered the room.

"Actually I did." Sara said nodding along.

"Looks like she was getting ready for a date." Warrick observed, shinning his light on the make-up strewn over the bed.

"So she has a hot date… studying the 'study of parody'," She arched her eyebrows at Grissom "and got conked in the noggin?"

Grissom nodded. "Looks like it."

Sara stuck out her lip and nodded.

"COD is blunt force trauma… the top of the head. She was hit more than once." Doc Robbins said.

"Was there any sign of sexual trauma? Struggle?" Grissom asked.

"No… but look at this. Silver shards of metal."

Sara took the bottle and shook the pieces. "Well, the wound isn't jagged… it's blunt and round… like a hammer."

"A silver hammer." Grissom corrected.

Sara glared at Grissom and then gasped. "You have got to be joking."

"What?" Grissom asked.

"Bang Maxwell's silver hammer came down upon her head.. Bang bang Maxwell's silver hammer made sure that she was dead." Sara sang.

Grissom looked at her from over the rim of his glasses. "I know you like to sing, but please enlighten me."

"The Beatles song." Doc Robbins said.

"I'm not following." Grissom said.

"You wouldn't. Joan was quizzical, studied pataphysical science in the home. She had a pataphysical science book... getting ready for a date."

"And then Maxwell's silver hammer made sure that she was dead." Doc Robbins finished.

They all stared down at the body.

"Is her name Joan?" Grissom asked.