After running around the house chucking boxes here and there, I forced myself to sit and watch a DVD screener I received a fortnight ago because the deadline was this Monday.

I thought I was in for a dull viewing, which is – believe me – the norm. I’d say about 70% of films I watched for work were so dull that watching a slug making its way across a road would be much more preferable. This film, however, turned out to be a gripping and utterly unpredictable murder mystery.

I was so engrossed that I forgot to write notes. Once I realised this, I just chucked a pen over shoulder and continued to watch. I can make notes during the second viewing, I reasoned.

After a character made a full confession to killing a number of people, a leading detective nodded thoughtfully. Another detective went up to the killer character to cuff him, but the detective snapped, “Wait.” Everyone in the room glanced at him in puzzlement. He finally said, looking at the killer, “I don’t understand.” The killer frowned and asked irritably, “What don’t you understand?”

The detective walked until his face was half an inch away from the killer’s face. “Why you lied. You didn’t kill these people, did you?” The killer stammered he did. The detective suddenly pointed at a green overcoat on a chair. “See that? Over there, on the chair the red overcoat?” The killer glanced and nodded once.

The detective nodded. “As I thought, you lied.” The killer spluttered. The detective went on to say: “You’re colour-blind, aren’t you?”

[NB: earlier the detective found a note "Kill the girl in red". The victim was wearing a red dress, but she had been walking with her twin sister who was wearing a green dress of the same design.]

Other characters reacted, according to their personalities, while the supposed killer gaped repeatedly like a goldfish. Ignoring those reactions, the detective turned round and faced the stunned people, and announced: “He’s not the killer. He’s a lovesick fool who’s desperate to protect a woman whom he believes is the killer, but… she isn’t the killer.”

["Oooh. I thought she was," I thought.]

The supposed killer grabbed the detective’s arm and demanded to know who it was. As the detective pried the supposed killer’s fingers off his arm, a woman – whom the supposed killer thought was the real killer – gasped as her head snapped back before she fell to knees, then slumped to floor on her side. A pistol crossbow bolt in her forehead. Dead.

The others reacted with panic and screams. The supposed killer screamed in angst and rushed to the dead woman. The detective, shocked, stared at the dead woman and a realisation hit his face. He took a step forward and shouted, “That cannot be!” He dashed to a handsome bloke and gripped his jacket lapel, “You should know!” The handsome bloke laughed with disbelief and asked, “Know what?” The detective said, “You wanted -”

And there, the DVD screener ended.

What?

What?

What?!

What?!

WHAT?!

The film isn’t due out until early summer so I can’t google to find info on the killer’s identity nor how it ends. I can’t get in touch with the company for a replacement until this Monday.

*crying*

I can’t even guess the ending so there is no way I could bluff my way out of this. I should have watched the film earlier this week. At least this faulty copy will buy me a bit of deadline extension, but I’ll have to explain why I left it ’til so late, though.

On a different note, you know how I joked about getting a moving expert?

Well, thank to a recommendation from a trusted friend, I bagged one. The correct job title of a moving expert is Lifestyle Manager.

I repeat: Lifestyle Manager.

Lifestyle Manager.

Hahaha! It’s quite amazing what a ‘lifestyle management’ company can do, though. Their range of services make me realise I’ll probably become a frequent user, due to dyscalculia, but only when I’m desperate. Which is often, unfortunately. Hm.

I have an appointment with one of their people next week to discuss the logistics of the house move. If I like their suggestions and plan, I’ll treat this service as our Christmas present (yes, it’s rather dear, but I think it’ll be worth the pain). *fingers crossed*