The Great Shafir (known to some as Rich Schaffer) was staring at his crystal ball in puzzlement. Some of his audience still awaited his word on bated breath, while others began to mock him. Whispers began to circulate that he had become the "mere Shafir" while others started the catcall of "too many beers Shafir"

What no one knew was where Ian Dowell was. He had left that morning at 11am to prepare the Adventure. He had been particularly delighted by the Adventure he had chosen. Since the last ones were much too solvable, he based this Adventure on the asymptotic convergence of time and matter, as applied to a symmetric matrix of differential equations based themselves upon the topology of the Hundred Aker Wood. And just to throw in a bit of a challenge, the estimated answer then had to be decoded through an integrated analysis of the syntax patterns of the characters from one of the Winnie the Pooh books. Which Winnie the Pooh book, Ian said, was a secret.

But here it was, 3pm, and Ian had not returned. At 2pm there were faint cheers (well, not so faint, I"m afraid), as people realized that the Adventure was starting late, and that it wouldn"t be able to last as long as they feared. But an hour later people just wanted to get the damn thing over with.

"Where the hell is he?" Ronni Marshak cried peevishly.

"I"ll bet he went to Tahiti" Anne Sechrest winked back.

"I wish I was in Tahiti" Ronni sighed. "Instead of Fokakta, Vermont. I"m going to call Delaney"

"No, let"s have a Gaelic poetry reading". Maire Doyle stood up. "I"ve got enough books to last us through the weekend!"

"Wait!" cried the Great Shafir. "I"m beginning to see something...it"s Ian...he"s in the upper latrine..no, wait, it"s the lower latrine...hold it..I think it"s the dancing meadow..or the upper pond..or maybe the barn, or the cabin, or the dock.....and he"s holding the most peculiar object...a riding mower..no check that, some hot coals, or maybe a log..oooh no, I think it"s the Beam-O...no, wait, I think it"s Spam"

Eva snorted. "So what you"re saying is that Ian"s somewhere in Vermont with some object from Midsummerfest."

"I sense some sarcasm, my dear" murmured Shafir.

"Do you sense I"m ready to go back to Canada" Eva replied.

The Great Shafir whirled around. "I may be a bit unspecific in my visions, but one thing I can definitely tell you, Ian Dowell is still alive!"

"NO I"M NOT, YOU FOOL!"

The voice of Ian Dowell, recently deceased, resonated across the turnaround area.

Mike Guenette picked up the two-way radio and pressed the talk button. "Ian?" he said.

"PUT THAT DOWN! I SPEAK ACROSS A GREATER DISTANCE NOW! AND DROP THE GPS SYSTEM–WHERE I AM DOESN"T HAVE GPS COORDINATES!"

Mike shrugged his shoulders and set down the GPS monitor he had picked up.

The Great Shafir spoke into the crystal ball, "What is it you want, O Spirit of Fester?"

"I WANT REVENGE! REVENGE UPON THE ONE WHO ENDED MY LIFE!"

A great thunderclap pealed across the sky at these words. After what seemed like an eternity of dead silence, Chris Campbell spoke:

"Does this mean we don"t have to do the Adventure?"

"I WAS UNABLE TO COMPLETE THE SET-UP OF THE ADVENTURE."

A great cheer went up among the throng. Steve Dubin snuck a look at the stack of books on Asymptotic Estimation of Nonlinear Systems. They would be going into the bonfire tonight.....

"HOWEVER, I HAVE A NEW ADVENTURE FOR YOU...YOU MUST AVENGE MY UNTIMELY DEATH"

An awkward silence ensued. After a long, long pause, Carla Guenette spoke up:

"Well, if you give us Teresa"s address, we can pass that information along to the police.."

"NO! SURPRISINGLY ENOUGH, TERESA IS NOT THE ONE WHO MURDERED ME! YOU SEE, SHE WOULD HAVE MADE MY DEATH FAR MORE EXCRUCIATINGLY PAINFUL!"

The Festers looked at each other. Eva cleared her throat:

"Are you saying what I think you"re saying?"

"YES! ONE OF YOU IS.....A MURDERER!"

Every one of the Festers gasped. Suspicious glances were exchanged. Which one of them could it be? Who amongst them could have possibly wanted to kill Ian? More to the point, who amongst them didn"t want to kill Ian?

Ronni turned to Steve.

"You! I remember how you looked at Ian after he told you that instead of grilling steaks tonight he wanted to grill tofu! You could have barbecued him then and there!"

Steve cried, "It was a stupid idea! I don"t know how Meryl blackmailed him into that!"

Meryl glared at Steve, "It was not a stupid idea! But I"m sure a meat-eater like you only cares about killing things!"

Steve turned a medium-rare shade of red. He hissed, "Quit trying to pin this on me! I heard you threaten to kill him yourself after you caught him throwing an aluminum can into the trash!"

Meryl blushed furiously. "Recycling is important! But I didn"t do it. If I did, I"d be sure to put Ian"s body in a compost heap so he could nurture the environment. And besides, I heard Eva threaten to put Ian in a body bag if he didn"t stop making jokes about Canada!;

Eva turned: "Eh? Everyone knows that Canada has a lower crime rate than the US, eh? If you want to pin this on an international, look at Maire. She was muttering violent things in her sleep because she was so sick of Ian teasing her, calling Gaelic "Girl-lic""

Maire protested: "Gaelic is a very masculine language, more masculine than a girly-man like Ian. And if I had killed him, I would run him through and through, and turn him into Irish stew! A stew, a stew! Rickety tickety tin!"

Morton cried out, "I didn"t do it, but if I did, it was to save my dog! Ian kept threatening to put my dog on the grill and turn Haggis into Doggis!"

"Or a hot dog", Steve Dubin chimed in.

And like Pavlov"s dog, Chris Campbell began to salivate.

And what about you, Chris?" Morton said. "Mr. I"m-so-hungry-I-could-eat-a-Dowell."

Chris sighed. "I would have, except he ran that Marathon. He"s too lean now. I"m been waiting for him to fatten up a bit"

SO THAT"S WHY YOU"VE BEEN SAYING HOW MUCH THINNER I"VE LOOKED!

"That"s taking "buttering up" to a whole new level," added Steve Dubin.

Chris said, "Personally, I think Mirtha did it."

Mirtha stared at Chris. "Me?"

Chris responded, "Sure. First you tried to take Ian out with poison in Cuba. When that didn"t work, you finished him off in Vermont!"

Mirtha scowled at him. "That"s crazy. I got food poisoning too!"

Chris raised his eyebrows: "Crazy like a fox. I"m way ahead of you. You gave yourself a little of the poison so that no one would suspect you!"

Mirtha"s shoulders sagged a little. She looked like she was about to burst into tears. She sniffled, "Really, any one of us could have done it."

Sally, who was feeling bad for Mirtha, piped up, "Sure! I mean, sometimes when I have a bad day, I think of taking out Ian. It usually involves just tackling him on the football field, but some people like to get a little more extreme."

Eric gave Mirtha a pat on the shoulder and commiserated, "Yeah, I was really ticked off when I found out Ian cancelled the Midsummerfest Raffle for this year. It practically paid my way last year."

Mike Guenette confessed, "Even I have had occasional moments of anger towards Ian. Like when he was over at a cookout at my house and decided to get the grill flames going by fanning them with a garbage can lid"

Carla Guenette chipped in her pet peeve as well: "And I hate it when Ian spells Elisabeth"s name with a z"

And even Elisabeth Guenette said, "Ian is no fun as a babysitter! He"s just weird."

Ronni could hold her tongue no longer. "I can"t tell you how many times I"ve wanted to strangle Ian! And after using the latrines for a day or two, anyone could go crazy."

John Burns shook his head, "I can tell you, you can do a lot worse than these latrines. But I agree with your general point, Ian can be infuriatingly annoying!"

Cathy Concannon looked up and smiled, "I just met Ian on Thursday and I already find him annoying!"

Susan Tucker, Rebecca Lesko, and Joe Lesko nodded in agreement. The whole crowd joined in.

"What a fussbudget"

"Irritating"

"Down with Work Weekends!"

"Clutter-keeper."

"Dog kicker"

"Actor"

"Blockhead!"

The Great Shafir, who hadn"t joined in on all this Ian-bashing, gave a know-it-all smile. He said, "I"m gratified to see that I"m not a suspect."

HAH! YOU"RE THE MOST LIKELY SUSPECT OF THEM ALL. HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I RIDICULED THE GREAT SHAFIR"S SO-CALLED PSYCHIC POWERS. AS A MEMBER OF THE SOCIETY FOR SKEPTICISM, I WOULDN"T EVEN LET THE POPE GET AWAY WITH HIS DOGMATIC SPIRITUAL RUBBISH, LET ALONE A CRACKPOT LIKE YOU!"

Shafir, miffed, said, "A fine thanks you"re giving me after I tried to warn you about this murder plot."

OH, YES, "REST WELL," YOU SAID. THANKS FOR THE WARNING. I THOUGHT YOU WERE WISHING ME A GOOD NIGHT"S SLEEP!

"Alas, you misinterpreted my all-foreseeing remarks"

IT WASN"T FORSEEING! THAT REMARK COULD BE INTERPRETED TO COVER HUNDREDS OF DIFFERENT SCENARIOS

"Yes, that"s what makes my psychic powers broad enough to cover any eventuality"

JUST HUSH! NOW LISTEN HERE, EVERYONE, WE"RE GOING TO HAVE AN ADVENTURE AND EVERYONE"S GOING TO PLAY!

Everyone groaned.

NOW, AS YOU CAN SEE, EVERYONE IS A SUSPECT. STEVE, MIRTHA, MERYL, SALLY, MIKE, ELISABETH, ERIC, RONNI, EVA, RICH, JOHN, MAIRE, CHRIS, CATHY, SUSAN, REBECCA, and JOE.

Anne stood up, "What about me? I could have done it!"

A great chortle sounded from above.

DON"T WORRY, ANNE, YOU"RE NOT A SUSPECT...

Anne looked flustered. "Why not? Jerk!"

YOU SEE, I KNOW YOU COULDN"T HAVE DONE IT. YOU"RE A NATURAL BLONDE, AND A BLONDE SIMPLY WOULDN"T BE SMART ENOUGH TO SUCCESSFULLY EXECUTE THIS CRIME

Anne gave Ian a death stare. At least, it would have been a death stare, if Ian weren"t already dead.

The wind sighed.

ALRIGHT, WE"LL MAKE YOU A SUSPECT.

NOW HEAR THIS, EVERYONE. YOU WILL FOLLOW THE RULES LISTED ON THE NEXT TWO PAGES. AND ONE LAST THING...THE MURDERER...DOESN"T GET A MUG THIS YEAR!!!!!