The Art of Deduction

[Malachi Matthews]

Malachi was darting through the room, before falling to his knees and starting to crawl, checking the floor for footprints with his magnifying glass, though it wasn't working very well, because he couldn't find any footprints. That might have to do with his mother just having mopped the floor, but Malachi didn't care. He was going to find out who ate the last chocolate chip cookie.

And because he was reading Sherlock Holmes, he was doing it like a detective. Because he'd be a really good detective, he was sure of it.

Malachi crawled into the kitchen, he still hadn't found any footprints, when he saw a frighteningly enlarged Mark through his magnifying class. "Mark! Just the guy I needed!" Mal informed him, as he scrawled of the floor and went to stand in front of his brother. "I need you to breathe on my face," he said seriously.

[Mark Matthews]

Mark was hungry, and he was really craving apples right now. He just hoped his mum had decided to buy some and his siblings hadn't demolished them all. Apples sounded great right now; he wanted to eat something that crunched.

Fantasising about eating an apple as he entered the kitchen, he almost tripped over his brother, who was crawling around on his belly in the kitchen. "What are you doing?" he asked, pulling a face and looking down at Mal.

His brother straightened up and Mark folded his arms. "Why do you want me to do that? Have you got some deadly disease that can only be cured by me breathing on you or something? Maybe we should trade. You get me an apple and I'll breathe on your face." He smirked a little.

[Malachi Matthews]

"I'm researching," Malachi told Mark impatiently, refraining from shoving his nose into his brother's personal space to check if his breath smelled like his favourite cookie.

"Because someone ate the last chocolate chip cookie, and I need to find out who did it. So I need to know what your breath smells like," Malachi told him matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes scanned the kitchen as Mark asked for an apple.

"I'll get you an apple, but you have to breath on my face first because if you ate my cookie, you don't deserve any apples," the boy said, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waited expectantly for his brother to do as told.

[Mark Matthews]

"Well I didn't eat the stupid cookie," Mark protested, folding his arms. "I only want an apple, and apples are healthy, and I wouldn't want to eat something healthy if I wanted to eat something unhealthy. Don't say anything, that makes perfect sense and you know it."

He raised his eyebrows at Mal's response and shrugged. "No nuh nuh no, I think you should get me an apple first and then I'll breathe on you. Anyway, I might have morning breath or something, which would be icky. I just really want an apple okay? Give me an apple Mal, and then I'll play your stupid games with you."

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