Nap and the Mammoth Undertaking (part 1)

No matter how many people he asked, nobody that Nap Lapkin spoke to on the topic could remember any Sesame Street episodes that involved a serial killer. He could recall sitting in front of the TV like it was yesterday, watching as the various characters stumbled and bumbled through their investigation into each grisly murder. Because the deaths involved being trampled to death, young Nap would yell at the screen that it was obviously the work of one Aloysius Snuffleupagus, the large elephant-like creature that only Big Bird ever saw. Obviously Big Bird would be implicated as well. In fact, Nap had wrestled with the idea that “Snuffy” didn’t even exist and that Big Bird would put on a pair of round feet to commit the heinous crimes himself.

Some pretty cold-blooded shit for a beloved children’s character to be involved in.

Eventually he stopped trying to convince people that he wasn’t delusional and these episodes existed and just kept the memories to himself. Shows brought to him by the letter A. “Ass” the silhouette on the left would say and then the silhouette on the right would add “assin.” They would continue to repeat their parts, the pause between the two getting shorter and shorter until finally they were both saying “assassin.”

Then recently these memories came flooding back as he was assigned to look into a series of brutal

“ass” “assignations”

assassinations.

Assassinations where the victims were

“tram” “pulled”

trampled to death. (ok, that’s enough of that)

“So it sounds like when you were a kid you watched “snuffy” films” joked Madonna Axion as Nap tried to explain again the Sesame Street flashbacks he was having.

“There has to be a connection” he insisted.

“Between a series of high-profile political killings and children’s TV shows that, for the record, never really happened? Well, tell you what, I’ll go to the latest crime scene and look for actual evidence while you get down to the local PBS station to see if you can beat a confession out of Mr. Hooper.”

Nap turned and walked out, not bothering to inform Madonna that Mr. Hooped had died 40 years ago. In fact, just the thought of the “Farewell, Mr. Hooper” episode had him incapable of mounting a coherent rebuttal and he’d be damned if he’d give her the satisfaction of seeing him get all misty.

A few hours later Nap’s phone let him know someone would like to speak with him. It did this with a few short bursts of Hells Bells, courtesy of his AC/DC app.

“How do you do it Lapkin?” asked a seemingly perturbed female that he quickly recognized as Madonna. “Do you know what the lab found at all of the crime scenes?” Before he could wager a guess she barreled on. “Of course you don’t. You’re combing the streets of Sesame Street for clues while the rest of us are out here working.”

He began his reply with a question “Did you know that Sesame Street has been called the longest street in the world?” Before she could hazard a guess, he barreled on. It should be noted that if you engage in a conversation with either of these parties you should be ready for a lot of barreling. “It’s true. While not actually the longest street, it got that reputation because it educated kids from around the world.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. In addition to barreling, long pauses are also not uncommon.

“Are you done?” she finally asked.

“Yonge street” he stated matter-of-factly.

“Yonge street?” she replied.

“That’s the longest street in the world. Almost 35 miles. In Toronto. When you hear Yonge you probably assumed it was in China or somewhere East… but nope. Toronto.”

She barreled into a very a significant pause. A pause that would lead most casual listeners to assume she disconnected, but Nap knew better. He was a veteran of such pauses, having been on the receiving end of a large number of them in the past.

“Don’t you want to know why I called?” she finally offered.

“Of course. I am waiting with baited breath”

“If you attempt to tell me the origin of the phrase ‘baited breath’ I will hunt you down and kill you” she warned in a tone so icy that Nap could actually see his breath for a few moments.

“The thought never occurred to me” he said innocently.

“Anyway, proving beyond any doubt that you are either the luckiest or most demented man on the planet, the lab got back to me with something very interesting. Hairs. Hairs at the scene of every crime. Hairs that, as unbelievable as it seems, belong to an animal that has been extinct for 10,000 years.”

“Dinosaurs had hair?” asked a stunned Nap Lapkin.

“No you idiot! A woolly mammoth.”

“I see” he said. He didn’t. Then he did. A big hairy elephant-like creature. On the other end of the line Madonna waited patiently to for him to put the pieces together.

Finally Nap replied “Does that make me Big Bird?”

The line went dead. Nap laughed and then busied himself with looking up the origins of the phrase ‘baited breath.’

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