The Night Pat Murphy Died

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Author's Note: This is what happens when you eat a lot of sugar before bedtime. Also, we are insane. Really. We are. We made a tent using a bedsheet and thumbtacks over the bed. The Unicorn wearing rainbow parachute pants told us to do it. The Pegasus told us to burn things and run naked in the yard, but the Unicorn, whose name is Larry told us not to listen to him because he's a party pooper.

"All right buddy, time to get up" Liam Kelly said to the form slumped over the bar. He had just kicked out the most unruly group of people, and wanted to close up and get home before sunrise, but seeing the mess the group had made, it was not going to happen. Not to mention the man passed out at his bar.

"Hey buddy! Buddy?" He reached for the guy, and recoiled when he felt the coldness of his flesh.

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Sara Sidle sighed. This scene was a mess, which included a big pile of "empties" in the corner, graffiti on the walls, little umbrellas all over the floor, several articles of clothing, and a set of false teeth on the ceiling fan.

Warrick Brown entered with her, "Whoa, and I thought Greg's place was a mess. This is nasty!"

"You've been to Greg's place," Sara said, in awe. "You're braver than I am."

"So, what have we got here? I mean, other than a gigantic mess."

"Let's see. Other than the obvious bottles and stuff, there are 2 pairs of pants, a ladies blouse, underwear," Sara shuddered, "a single leg warmer, 3 sequined gloves, some teeth in the fan, and a Partridge in a pear tree."

"A Partridge in a pear tree?" Warrick asked, confused.

"An autographed picture of Danny Bonaduce in a pear tree." Sara said, pointing to the photo.

The pair processed the scene. As bad as it was; at least they weren't stuck with the 40 or so rowdy men and women who were obviously intoxicated. When they were going into the bar, they saw Catherine, Greg and Nick trying to round them up. Sara and Warrick could hear the discordant strains of O Canada being sung to assorted tunes and lyrics.

"They're not singing it right," commented Warrick.

"Ya think?"

"Where's the part about the caribou eggs? Or the poutine?"

"Or the great Canadian Snow Snake?"

"You mock me! I'm totally serious. This guy came up to me and had me sing the whole thing for his video camera right after he asked me how I felt about the protesters on Peter Mann's Bridge."

Before Sara could reply she noticed the odd rectangular shape under the pile of "empties" of which only half were empty. "Warrick, give me a hand here." Together they shifted a number of bottles off of the top of …

"…a coffin?" questioned Warrick. "What the hell is this doing here?"

Sara moved a large, horseshoe-shaped flower arrangement bearing the message "We'll miss ye Paddy" off of the cover of the coffin. She slowly opened it, wondering what she'd find inside. Warrick peered over her shoulder.

"Holy Crap!"