Angie's discussion on clichés reminded me of Donna Moore's wonderful posts of yore (on another list so long ago and far away, back before they had pictures embedded with the person's post, so you'd know who to avoid at the next conference... ;-) in which she *purposefully* used clichés to weave a great and ultimately hilarious tale. And with the collective minds of readers on this list, I can well imagine some of the whoppers. So here is your challenge. In a short paragraph, let's say 75 words or less, weave a cliché-ridden mystery that will make us laugh. Ready, set, cover your keyboards...

And for those of you who are cliché challenged, Jordan Dane has provided a link to a cliché-generating site:

I'll start: It was a dark and stormy night...

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Everyone's a critic...

Glad you showed up, A. We need you.
yeah, but it's an edgar. some times, you have to get your hands dirty...and other bits...
I recommend a career as a writing teacher Simon. No kid could resist. You might have done more with punctuation,'ve used not a single exclamation point!
Oh. My. God.

So this is what ya'll get up to when I'm off working?! Dammit. Now I'll have to see if I can think up something!
It's colder than a well-driller's ass in the Klondike,I muttered to myself as I pulled my trenchcoat tight around my exposed face. "Damn, it's raining cats & dogs."

They jumped me before I could slip inside the Dodge, I slipped the big one a fist-fulla a nickels I keep handy, then for the next minute I was as 'busy as a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest.'

"See ya' later boys, I gotta bimbo waitin' for me---I left them laying in a heap o n the street. Jesus, I was as horny as a two-peckered Billygoat.

"Hey, babe," I asked Lulu, "What's a nice gal like you doin' in a dump like this?"

"Waiting for some cheap guy like you to spring for a lady's drink."

I ignore her, 'she's cheaper than a dime steak,' ---and headed toward the dame at the end of the bar.

"Well---look at the that, the chicken has come home to roast,"----Whatzat," I say, "to roast? I tink you got your i's crossed."

Rosie was a looker, with a set a legs that went clear up to her ass. Me, I always believe a man is only as old as the woman he feels, but Rosie was hitting fungos all over the park, I was outta my league wit her.

I guess I was early---oh well, it'd give me time to drink 'em real pretty.
I think you're recapping last night, Dennis. You weren't out on a walk--you were drinkin' 'em real pretty...and slaying the bimbos, weren't you Gilligan?
Ha! The truth is never far off...It's amazing all the cliches' I thought of after I finished.
I'm going over my last MS--hitting the edits real hard again. This cliche thing was far too easy. I had my 'dumb it down' throttle revved to the red zone without even trying.
Oh, I've had GREAT fun reading all these - thanks for the laughs all!
You bravely started it, Donna. And I'm STILL laughing.


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