Mine. Ahem:
It was a dark and stormy night, rain comin' down like piddle on the cobblestones and hitting me on the way. I turned my collar to it and tucked low under my hat, just trying to stay clear of trouble, and I headed for my favorite pub. Inside, a woman who liked like June and talked like October told me by best buddy had just been shot, which went to show you: never trust buddies or dames to stick around for long. Still, it stank of murder, of Boss Haggis, and of beer, and I knew about all three. I took the case.
