I promised that any person who would offer me a suggestion would receive a reward: I want to thank mrskippy for suggesting Shirley Jackson's The Lottery. I'll be working on that next. In the meantime, here's your picture:
So today I've decided to mix things up a bit and dissect a Poirot story. It's difficult to make fun of Poirot because, frankly, he makes fun of himself
but I wouldn't be doing my internet job if I didn't try.
The Cornish Mystery really highlights something I've only touched on in the past—what the fuck is going on in Cornwall, y'all? The mystery itself is a fairly simple redirection, which Poirot solves by bluffing the shit out of a stupid bad guy. In fact, the bad guy is actually pretty intelligent right up until Poirot needs him to be a moron, which highlights my second point—that Poirot causes contact stupidity.
Which might very well be the most advantageous secret power for a detective to have.
So catalyst lady shows up at Poirot's house because she suspects that her husband is poisoning her. This wouldn't be a Poirot story if catalyst lady was just being poisoned by her secretary-banging husband, so let's go ahead and dismiss that right off the bat. There are two more people involved in this tale: Hot niece and sexy young dude. Oh, and Catalyst Lady and her husband both receive some sort of money each month. Sexy people, vague romance, and money? Must be an Agatha Christie story.
Guys, I have to be honest here, I'm having trouble really getting into this. I mean, Agatha Christie writes a mean romance with a mystery twist, but she basically makes fun of herself. Unintentionally. This story relies on a bad guy who is both clever and idiotic, the gossiping of a Cornish town, and FUCKING POIROT WAXES HIS GODDAMNED MOUSTACHES AND DRINKS CHOCOLATE.
Fuck. Okay, so Poirot agrees to take this case for some... reason, and he and Hastings decide to follow her, by train, to Cornwall. Catalyst Lady is already dead, let's just get that out of the way. She basically shows up, meets secret bad guy at the train station, and has a load of arsenic just shoved in her face.
Once Poirot and Hastings WHO COULD HAVE TAKEN THE SAME TRAIN BACK WITH HER BUT NOOOOOOO arrive, they learn of her death. Shock! Awe! Horror! Poirot is so aghast that he starts speaking in french again
Yeah, fuck, I know you're fucking Belgian. Spoilers: No one gives a shit.
They decide to go and meet with Hot Niece, who is also meeting with Sexy Young Dude. Hot Niece admits that Catalyst Lady was under the impression that Sexy Young Dude totally wanted her, but silly auntie, he's actually engaged to Hot Niece! This is seriously a plot point.
Poirot and Hastings leave Cornwall as quickly as they can, because I seriously think that county just gives off murder-vibes, and some time elapses. The next thing you know, Husband is in jail for poisoning his wife. I thought I said that wasn't actually what happened? Yeah, well, the police don't realise they're in an Agatha Christie story.
Sexy Young Dude meets up with Poirot again and moans a bit about how awful it is to have a future relative in jail for murder. Poirot agrees, and tells SYD to just go ahead and admit that he was the one who killed Catalyst Lady in the first place. SYD laughs and then becomes rightfully angry, storming out. I mean really, he doesn't need this shit in his life right now, am I right?
Wait, no, I was reading a story that isn't about stupid people for a second. No, SYD sits around so that Poirot can detail for him his needlessly complicated murder plan. It goes as follows:
Please remember that Poirot has ZERO EVIDENCE TO SUPPORT THIS WILD SUPPOSITION. No, all he has is his fortune-telling moustache and because he has seen many murders like this before. And yet, somehow, he manages to convince this idiot man-child that he is totally gonna tell on him unless he signs a goddamned motherfucking cunty-ass murder confession WHAT THE FUCKING HELL OKAY THE DUDE SIGNS A MURDER CONFESSION BECAUSE POIROT LOOKS AT HIM FUNNY.
That's it. That is seriously the end of this story.