Fandom High School

Everyone was in the classroom today (the actual classroom, not the danger shop classroom, although that was always tempting), and Rosa was sitting behind the desk in front, feet propped up and looking at them thoughtfully.

"Two weeks ago," she said, "class was canceled for what I hope was a very obvious reason, but, if not, then I'm really sorry about your terrible week, that's sounds depressing as hell. But last week, class was also cancelled, but in a bit more of an unexpected and unannounced sort of way."

She lifted a brow of challenge at them.

"So, detectives, let's do some detectiving. Can you figure out why class was canceled last week? Let's see what you got."

And that was it, that was the whole set-up. She realized she was inviting prying with this one, but, you know what? She was curious enough about what they might choose to do with it to let that slide for now.

Rosa's lack of time to write these motivation to really set up an elaborate scenario for everybody this week was waning significantly, especially when she knew for a fact that least two of her students were out traipsing around Italy together (she was still waiting to find out if they'd be earning that extra credit for class by getting wrapped up in some kind of ridiculous and absurd Italian murder mystery), which was a lot of words to say that this week was definitely another movie week.

But she was going to be all teacherly about it (sort of) and try to imbed an important lesson into it.

That lesson?

"Sometimes," Rosa informed them. "....no, scratch that, most of the time, criminals are actually really dumb and stupid, otherwise they wouldn't be criminals, right? I mean, all the good ones get a reputation because they're so good and that makes everyone think that there's femme fatales and criminal masterminds everywhere, but your average crime is centered around some really dumb shit. Next week, maybe we'll go over some examples, but this week, there's actually a movie that covers that same concept. Like before, try to see if you can figure it out before we get to the reveal near the end, by trying to think of what would be the dumbest solution. Sometimes, it really is the stupidest thing that pulls it all together."

"Oh, so you've had enough of theme parks after last week?" asked Rosa, who really could have just left that to the narrative, but nah. "Well, too bad, because the carnival's in town," she gestured to the set-up, which everyone had probably noticed by now, which had equal parts cheap seaside theme park and sketchy traveling circus vibes to it, between all the roller coasters and ramshackle rides, colorful tents and food carts and bullshit games on wagons, "and, guess what, people have been going missing. No one's been found dead yet, at least, but people are getting real nervous that it's only a matter of time, so we've got to get to the bottom of this before murder is added to the list of attractions.

"So," she said, "use some of the skills you've been honing in this class to see what you can root out, if you can figure out what's going on before it's too late. So far, we know that it's both guests and employees, and even animals from the petting zoo and shows, that have been disappearing, including the guy who usually runs the place, so his assistant had been mostly in charge. But they're a tight-knit group at this park and don't like to spill the beans to outsiders. Right now, their main concern is protecting their star performer, because they're worried she's going to disappear before her big show tomorrow night, which is why they've brought in investigators to handle it. But that's all we got at the the moment. So, you know." She gestured vaguely. "Do your thing. Detect."

It would appear that the class was meeting in a police station again this week, only it was far less bullpen and much more booking station, so anyone with a modicum of knowledge on how police work tended to go could probably guess where this lesson was going.

"So this is something you'll probably not have to deal with much if you're on the private investigator side of things," Rosa admitted as she got class started, "though if you've got connections with the fuzz, you could still utilize these resources. But if you're going full cop, there's a good chance you might eventually have to book someone you bring in. Which means getting basic information, doing a body search, and taking finger prints and mug shots before tossing them in a cell for a bit. And today you're going to learn how to do all that and take turns practicing booking each other, just in case this sort of thing might actually be useful some day. You never know."

And, really, Rosa just wanted an excuse to make everyone take mugshots, because that's the kind of thing she found funny, and also it just didn't seem like the worst idea to have some fingerprints on file, either.

Ahem.

Class that day was being set up on an equestrian ranch, because Rosa Diaz thought she was hilarious.

And, let's face it, this was going to be a much more interesting set up than what she'd originally hand planned, which involved a missing groundhog and what they were all going to do about it. Honestly, she still felt that was a good one (and topical) but this one? Was much better. (And also topical!)

So there she was, standing in front of one of the stables, rocking a black cowboy hat and some leather chaps because when hot and in Rome.... and she gestured toward the open gate behind her.

"So we've been called down here to this horse stable," she said, "because in the middle of the night, someone broke the lock on the gates and opened up all the stalls and either let every single horse loose or stole them, we're not really sure, especially since there's a trail of horse hooves leading that way," she pointed out the hoof-prints in the dusty trail and followed it to the valley beyond, "toward the gorge, which could be trouble, because gorges and horses aren't a great mix. However, there's also trailer tracks," and now she pointed out those as well, and followed them in the opposite direction, "leading down the highway that the owner of this here fine horse establishment insists don't belong to any ve-hicle," yeah, she did have to say it like that, she was doing a whole bit, can't you tell?, "she owns.

"So," she concluded, "what happened? How can we start figuring out this mystery? So far, we've worked on interrogating witnesses and searching for clues, but what else can we do to help point us in the right direction? Maybe the key here is to just get into the mind of our victims. Try to think like a horse. Try to imagine what it might be like to be a horse."

And now she smirked, openly and unapologetically.

"I'm sure some of you know what that might be like, huh?"

Why, yes, this whole set-up was to poke fun at the people who turned into horses yesterday.

Sure, she had been one herself, but you know what? She owned that shit.

"Let's get started, yeah? Giddy-up, cowboys. Yee-haw."

Offering a very different feel from last week's bullpen set-up, the class would find themselves, this time, in the warm and sunny kitchen of a quaint farmhouse, with a big red barn and cows and chickens outside and everything. Some real Country Living, Small Home on the Plains shit right here. And although there was a distinct, lingering scent of freshly baked apple pie in the air, there was, of course, no pie to be seen.

There was, however, an adorable little old grandma.

And Rosa, of course.

"You guys...." There was a smirk on her face, reluctant but nonetheless present, "...actually did a really good job last week." Open praise and a compliment? Don't get used to it! "You really took to the challenge and used your resources and did some pretty good preliminary leg work. We're going to expand on that this week and focus on interrogating and investigating witnesses, which is, honestly, my least favorite part of the job, so it'll be nice to just get it out of the way. So here's your situation: this here," she gestured toward the kindly old woman who looked like she stepped straight out of a book of Mother Goose nursery rhymes, "is Esther. Esther here just baked a pie, and, as little old grandmas who bake pies are wont to do, she set it on that," Rosa pointed, "window sill so it could cool."

She shook her head. "Classic rookie mistake, Esther."

Esther, appropriately, hung her head in shame.

"Anyway," Rosa continued, "it's up to you guys to try to figure out who might have stolen the pie by asking around and seeing what kind of narrative or clues you can dredge up out of the likely suspects. Obviously, you have Esther herself you can question. There are two hired farmhands and a milkmaid, as well as the farmer himself...Esther's son....his wife, and their three adorable disgusting little children, ages 14, 9, and 5. There's some snot-nosed little kid from the farm next door who hangs out here all the time, and a vagrant living in the barn that no one else knows about. Esther's husband is dead, but the farmhands insist that he's haunting the place, so who knows, maybe that's a thing, and there's also cows, chickens, a really snooty house cat, a rough and tumble barn cat, and two loyal dogs." She squinted a little. "Maybe a goat? I can't remember. Anyway, this is definitely a serious investigation if I'm including dead people and animals as possible witnesses, but, hey, I've been here long enough to know that at least someone probably is all into the whole ghost whisperer or pet detective angle.

"So to sum up: old lady, missing pie, lots of suspects." Rosa was now moving toward the kitchen table, where there was, fact, a box with a pie in it. "Go figure out who took the damn pie."

With that, she dug a fork in and took a bite of said pie.

"This is a different pie," she informed them, then waved her fork at them impatiently. "Go. You're wasting time, the culprit might already be halfway down to the creek by now, or something."