Part 5

Yanick Champoux

To have her arsenal suddenly reduced to a black puddle of (otherwise) delicious licorice didn't deter my garter-belted assassin. While I might be a private sloth, my public reflexes are more akin the jackrabbit's. And it's only by the virtue of those reflexes that I kept my life, as I found myself dodging a most lethal praline stilleto.

Evading the stabs of this most literal femme fatale, I desperately searched for a way to get out of this rather uncomfortable situation. I was about to vote my predicament a cause perdue, when I stumbled over the lawn-mower that I always tinker on between cases.