"What happened?" asks the first officer.
"Male, about twenty-five, covered in Raisin Bran and dead as a doornail."
"Good grief," says the second officer. "Didn't we have one covered in Frosted Flakes yesterday? And Captain Crunch last week?"
"You're right. I'm afraid," said the detective as he took a drag from his cigar, "this is the work of a cereal killer."
Warmie
