Disclaimer: I don't own Pushing Daisies or any of characters. Alana is mine, but no one else is. Muahahaha! *Cough*
Oh! Me! Pick me! Can I do it this time?
"No," Emerson barely glanced at my notepad before he answered. He probably knew what I was going to ask.
I pulled out my itouch and as soon as Ned touched that man's gorgeously shaped cheekbone I started the timer.
"Hey, do I know you guys? Hey you," he motioned to me as he talked in his incredibly hot british accent, "You look like my girlfriend? Where is she? Oh no, am I dead?"
"Yes, and we need to know who killed you." Ned replied thankful that the man's bullet wound was still covered.
"Oh yeah, I got a real good look at him. He had pale skin, orange hair, and really big feet. He was a clown. I was killed by a clown!"
I nudged Ned, to let him know he had ten seconds.
"Tell my girlfriend, I love her." How sweet, those were the last words he said. And he looked right at me, so that means the last thing he saw looked like his girl friend. How precious is that?
Well, we have a lead! :D
"Except I don't get paid for learning, 'the clown did it,' I get paid for giving names and capturing bad guys. And cross out that doodle you drew of me lecturing you."
I put on a pouty face as I scribbled over the artfully crafted drawing of Emerson with his gun pointing at the beautiful me.
Wait a sec, isn't the county fair setting up on the outskirts of town? I've got a very good feeling that we'll find some clowns there. Or the clown agency… or the clown convention!
"You have got to be kidding me," Emerson rubbed his head and began to walk out.
"How do you know so much about clowns?" Ned stared at me and I smiled before following Emerson out the door. I ran ahead of Emerson and into the passenger seat of Ned's car. I stuck my tongue out at Emma as he got into the back. Ned climbed into the driver's seat.
What's the plan, Stan?
"How old are you?" Emerson grunted.
How old do you like 'em?
"Will you guys just cool it?" Ned angrily asked. Wow, I've never seen him get angry before.
"I say we split up. Someone goes to the fair someone to clown school and someone at the convention," Emerson suggested.
I feel sorry for whoever has to go undercover at the agency!
They both look at me and the next thing I know I'm dressed as a mime and in the clown agency.
Just a filler, but at least I updated!
