a story for groogy

The streets of Stockholm were slick with rain and blood. Not too long ago, the foreign playboy Denmark had fallen out of a window. Most were saying the fashionable country had been drunk once again and had taken a tumble; one only had to take a look at the recent headlines to see that Denmark was nothing more than an alcoholic with too much money. Scandal after scandal had followed him since his visit to the capital of Sweden and many agreed that the death, while tragic, was hardly surprising.

Detective Hansson's boots crunched as he slowly surveyed the scene before him, water dripping off the brim of his fedora. Something was clearly bothering the brilliant, if anti-social investigator. A few yards away his partner and junior, Detective Niall, was interviewing the witnesses; a few minor hanger-ons that had entered Denmark's sphere of influence hoping to enjoy the benefits of such a wealthy patron. Hansson knelt down near Denmark's face and inhaled, catching the faint scent of almonds. Something was definitely rotten in the state of Denmark, he thought.

"RAAAAWR," exclaimed Jan Mayen, one of Denmark's many spherelings. The polar bear's paws gestured wildly, punctuating whatever point he was trying to make.

"Uh, yeah, okay...?" Niall said, a hint of a question hanging on his statement. Truthfully, the young man didn't speak the complex language of Jan Mayen, he was simply trying to get the country to move on.

Eventually Jan Mayen gave up with a shrug and a growl, clearly frusturated with the uneducated barbarian before him. Finally free of the polar bear, Niall made his way over to Hansson, who was still staring at the body, perhaps hoping it would tell him more of its secrets.

"The press is gonna be all over our ass on this one," Niall said mildly. Hansson grunted in acknowledgment and stood up.

"Its going to be a messy one," Hansson finally said, still looking at the fallen country, "especially when we tell them Denmark was poisoned."