Miss Marple versus Godzilla
“So, where is this monster going to strike next?” Colonel Hicks asked.
Niko shrugged his shoulders. “Beats me.”
Hicks turned to the expert loaned to the US Government by the Brits. “Ideas?”
The elderly lady looked up from her knitting. “I always look for the village parallel,” she said. “In this case that would be Mrs Thornton’s cat.”
“A cat? Huh?”
“Oh, yes. A great big ginger tom. He engaged in quite the spree of destruction in St Mary Mead. He dug up Elizabeth Bantry’s tulips, he quite terrified the life out of little Jennifer Gossington’s pet rabbit, and he scratched and bit Maude Timberley’s sweet Pekinese dog. The village was all of a dither. Until I suggested luring the naughty cat into a trap with fish.”
“Fish?” echoed the Colonel.
“A tasty piece of haddock,” Miss Marple said. “Once we had caught him it was quite easy to moderate his behaviour with a little trip to the vet.” She snapped her knitting needles together. The Colonel winced.
Niko grinned. “Hey, Miss Marple, that’s brilliant,” he said. “We’re gonna need one whole lot of fish.” He gazed speculatively into the distance. “And one hell of a big pair of scissors.”