Hugh Hamilton
As it happened, this turned out to be a clever ploy to conceal the dead man's wallet, he skilfully covered it in thick pools of blood and stuffed it in his pocket while everyone was busy half vomiting. And, as I feel the need to recycle a joke, the butler walked in.
"There you are," screamed Mrs Marple, trying to wrench her mind away from the current tragedy. "This house is a mess; there's dust everywhere! Why haven't you done your job?"
"Well you know what they say," said the butler sheepishly: "a butler's work is never done."
He paused, feeling an enormous sense of Deja Vu.
"Get out of my sight!" said Mrs Marple.
The butler, highly confused, thought it best to obey his master and have a peaceful nap in the drawing room.
"Is anyone here a doctor?" yelled a hysterical guest.
This was followed by a generous proportion of complete silence before someone finally spoke.
"I'm a dentist," said a man, before suddenly realising that he was about to subjected to a bout of smart arse banter.
"Oh great," said a sarcastic voice obligingly, "a good brush should do it."
"Yeah," said Ben. "Uh..."
"Tooth Decay, that's what killed him," said Hugh, then regretted it.
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