The Popsicle Corpse Puzzle

“Far out! I think he’s dead!” cried Foxy Pants.

“No, he’s just not breathing,” said Bobby Butte sarcastically.

  Bobby Butte, age 10, was standing with his least favorite aunt, Foxy Pants, in Solvemee Community College’s lunchroom.  Bobby, who had been forced to spend the day with Aunt Foxy, would much rather be lying on his couch playing “Doomed Land 2,” the new video game he had gotten for his birthday.  As for Foxy, she hadn’t been too pleased with the arrangement either.  She would probably be watching “That 60’s Show” right now if her little brat of a nephew hadn’t come to spend a “fun-filled” day watching her be an abused lunch lady to a bunch of greedy, snobbish college kids.  Why, even that day, she thought, some snotty college student had refused her carefully made lunch because it was apparently distasteful and ill prepared!  Bobby Butte was watching his aunt muttering to herself and then he thought, ”I know my aunt is crazy, but right now I gotta focus on this dead guy.”   Then the reality of “this dead guy” gripped him and he did the only thing he could think of. 

He yelled, “Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeellllllllllppp!”  Foxy Pants looked around anxiously trying to find the source of the noise.  When she realized it was Bobby, she tried to calm him down.  Just then a plump figure came running down the hallway, panting.  Foxy recognized him as her fellow staff member, Professor Plump. 

“Is-everyone-okay?” he wheezed clutching his rather large belly. 

“Nooooooooooooooo!” wailed Bobby as he pointed to the corpse on the floor. 

“For-the love-of chocolate!” gasped Professor Plump, “What happened?”

“I’m not sure, but something creepy!” said Foxy Pants.

“I’ll call the police,” Bobby offered and he ran towards the office door. 

“Good idea, Bobby,” Foxy Pants said. “Where is everybody?” she asked turning to the Professor. 

“The other teachers have gone home already and the students have been long gone ever since the last bell of the day rang.”

“What’s the school’s address?” Bobby yelled from the office.  Foxy Pants looked expectantly at Plump as if to say “How am I s’posed to know?”  Professor Plump rolled his eyes and gave the address of the college. 

“The police will be here in five minutes, with a detective. The chief of police told us to stay calm,” Bobby explained.  (Although apparently, he wasn’t.)