That's it. Burn the Puzzlemaster.

lets use the box to make a fire and smoke the herrings

GAH! THE STENCH!
That's it, we've got to get out of here. Neither the judge nor I can take this horrid smell. Court's called off until tomorrow so we can get some air in here!

just burn the fucking place down !
everything wil be fine then !

burn it all down worm your honor along with the suspect and the jury !

Man alive, these days pass quickly.

Since that rank smell has finally disappeared, let's review what happened yesterday.
Court was running smoothly until Cecil Vensetti, the fishmonger in the audience, dragged in a heavy-looking box and submitted it as evidence. Immediately, almost the entire jury jumped on the opportunity to open it, with some slight dissent from ZFR and REDVWIN. However, once opened, a pile of red herrings fell out of the crate, which were gleefully collected by the soup stand owner. Mr. Vensetti fled from the courtroom and was nowhere to be found after that.
At the bottom of the box was a single fish head with a note pinned to it: "Somebody in this courtroom is a traitor."

Now that we've reconvened, let's get on with things.

The judge slams his gavel!
ALL RISE!
DAY 4 BEGINS NOW!
COURT IS NOW IN SESSION!

FACEPALM.JPG

i wil refrain from eating at the soup stand
ill just stick with bagels

and burninating whatever i can find

Can we have a lynchmob, please?

Wait, it's Thursday now then? YOU KNOW WHAT THIS THURSDAY IS IN GREECE? Thursday of the Smoke of Grilled Meat. And that's an actual, official celebration.

Wait... on thursdays in greece you smoke and grill weed? Interesting tradition, I must say!

Well, just one Thursday per year (called Tsiknopempti), traditionally. Tomorrow all of Greece will be smelling of smoked meat. Meat. Not weed. :P
Apparently it has to do with some christian fasting that follows it. I don't give a fuck about that, or christians. I just eat the meat. Well, and the christians, if someone prepares them for me.

(Jumps up, agitated)

What kind of kangaroo court is this, anyway? What kind of bloody farce is this?

I DEMAND EVIDENCE. Evidence of something, anything! A poor woman is dead. Dead! The defendant sits there with a smug expression on his face, and all we have is a doorman with memory problems, a bedroom scene of scant detail, and a cryptic message from a dead fish!

I have a damn good idea who the "traitor" is. I'm looking squarely at the prosecuting attorney.

You got any evidence over there, pal? Any particular reason The Princess is on trial in the first place?

Or are you going to continue to bumble incompetently?

I've been looking for my twist, and I think we've got it.

What a woman!

For a second the prosecutor glares evily at sunshinecorp before she realizes that he was talking about the centerfold of an old Playboy magazine he's now reading.

That's right. Too busy eating and setting fires to actually prosecute the case.

Hey, who sets fires to clean up evidence, again?

Oh that's right - the Mob.

You a bad katt. You bad. You bad. You in somebody's pocket.