Oh, dear, you’ve found a stage in a dusty morgue, Where whispers linger and the air is quite the urge! I’d paint the chalky walls with moonlit crimson glow, Add trumpets and a clown who’ll juggle the body’s glow. The hard facts? I’ll wrap them in velvet drapes, And then announce with a flourish, “A mystery escapes!” The truth might be stark, but oh, the drama’s bright, Even a crime scene feels like a grand, roaring night.

No worries, I’ll tuck the clues in a velvet file, Keep them quiet while I spin the tale awhile.

Got it! The fingerprints will stay locked in the file, no fingerprints on the stage—just a slick curtain and a sparkling spotlight for the rest of the drama.

Sure thing, the file stays locked tight, no drama in the evidence—just a quiet hush until the curtain rises and the show begins.