- About Cadbury Fife
- Cadbury’s Detective Agency
- Cadbury’s Super Adventures of Daily Living
- Cadbury’s Sociological Analytics Club
- Cadbury’s Detritus Dump
- Cadmium’s Poetic Funpark of Despair
- The Archives
- The Case Of The Missing Self
- 1: The appointment, so called
- 2: Please do not take a seat
- 3: Squander my solitude with your presence
- 4: A troubled woman in a dirty window
- 5: The ratatat madness of human affairs
- 6: All runners secretly feel like criminals
- 7: Only Cadbury Fife can solve your case backwards
- 8: Some type of high-society circus clown
- 9: The fascinating stupidity of humans
- 10: A silent killer with a feather duster
- 11: People are toxic to the human condition
- 12: The warm heartless shoulders of the world
- 13: The Moth Epidemic in the East
- 14: The tragic outcome of our continued existence
- 15: Contemplating murder or suicide
- 16: The Terms of Cadbury’s Detective Agency
- 17: Relationships for the underslime
- 18: The ultimate act of dance destruction
- 19: A beautiful man with bountiful brain-bosoms
- 20: Coming from an axis of dementia
- 21: Juggle all the world’s detritus
- 22: To be associated with pleasure, perchance it may offer something good
- 23: To vaporize, vanish, blink out like a black light in the void of the night
- 24: Like projectile life through the narrowing tunnel of existence
- 25: Burrowed into its bamboozling heart
- 26: It was the Detection Party
- 27: More frustrating than a bottle of frustration pills
- 28: A lot of squirming in the room
- 29: Pulling wet, wriggling desires from the depths
- 30: The problem with Modern, Historic, and Ancient Detectives
- 31: Sorry for moving quickly, people, but there’s no time for this
- 32: Ego bubbles, designed to give you boners of the head
- 33: A hard demonic presence in between layers of silken skin and cloth
- 34: The presumably depraved monster-gentleman
- The Case Of The Missing Self
Box of Fife
The Cadbury Cloud
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Tag Archives: The War On Losing
23: To vaporize, vanish, blink out like a black light in the void of the night
The man had too many airs and not enough graces. His stance was snooty, his excessively creased pants were trumped up, his gold-lined jacket hung at entirely too regular an angle. Even his shadow was overtly cocksure. Cadbury: Who are … Continue reading