In our last issue ...

Back at Gus’ Place, a certain lady was regaling another patron—a young Waxy Cap lad—with stories of her free and easy life. The lady was Psathyrella Epimyces and she liked to be called Psathy (although the townsfolk had other names for her).

“So let me get this straight,” he asked. You don’t work at all, but you live off your aunt.”

“That’s right,” answered Psathy snappily. Auntie pays for everything and I don’t have to put up a dime. Besides, “ she continued, fanning out her fingers for all to see, “work would be so hard on my beautiful nails.”

Auntie pays for everything and I don’t have to put up a dime.

“But your aunt is not really your aunt,” he continued.

“Oh no, we’re not really related,” admitted Psathy. I just call her auntie.”

The Waxy Cap just sat there a minute staring at her fingernails, attempting to make sense of it all when suddenly a pair of Fungoland’s finest—Schlerodermal cops—burst in on the scene and accosted Psathy.

“Psathyrella Epimyces, we have a warrant for your arrest!” spoke the skinnier cop.

“But why...who?” asked Psathyrella, her voice trembling as she leapt to her feet.

“You’re wanted on suspicion of murder...” said the fatter cop as he turned her around to handcuff her “...of the lady Shaggy Mane.

“Shaggy’s dead?!” exclaimed Psathy. But I didn’t have anything to do with it!”

You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney.

Just then, the skinnier cop pulled a little handbook from his back pocket and read: “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney…”

Gus could only scowl and glare from behind the bar. The Waxy Cap lad beat a hasty retreat, slipping out unnoticed.

So Psathyrella spent a fitful night in the town jail. Later next morning, a suited character showed up and was led into her cell. He bowed and introduced himself as “Attorney Lactarius Representaneus, at your service.” Then he briefed a tearful Psathy on what he found in talking with the police.

“Ms. Epimyces…” he started, but was quickly interrupted.

“Psathy. Call me Psathy.”

So, what I have here is Writ of Habeus Carpophorus.

“Ahem. Right. Psathy, it turns out that Ms. Shaggy Mane —or even her body —cannot be found. So, what I have here is Writ of Habeus Carpophorus. It means they have to show the body or you walk free. “Oh,” said Psathy, as a slight smile crept back on her face.

(To Be Continued…)