Chapter 267: Chuck, the Host: Why Aren't You Laughing Anymore? Keep Laughing!
"Boss, are you alright?"
The two sidekicks quickly jumped up and helped Max Henson, who had fallen off his chair in shock from Chuck's words.
"I'm fine, the chair's broken," Max Henson forced a smile. "Tell me! Were you guys pranking me?"
"Boss, you caught us," the two sidekicks reacted quickly and immediately admitted. "We wanted to give you a surprise."
"For your behavior, I can only say... well done!" Max Henson laughed. "I'm always the one pulling pranks on you guys, so now it's your turn. It's our freedom, isn't it? But now get me a new chair, or the audience will all tune out."
"You can sit on Little Willie's lap," Chuck said expressionlessly.
"..."
Sidekick number one, the short Little Willie, almost burst out laughing when he heard this, and quickly covered his mouth.
Max Henson's face darkened. Mocking others was fun, but being the one mocked was a completely different experience.
Little Willie and his crew often teased the women who came to promote their products, their classic move being to make female guests sit on Little Willie's lap.
Most refused.
But some were more outgoing and actually did.
And regardless of whether they did or not, Max would relentlessly mock them for being inappropriate with his sidekick.
But who would have thought that Chuck, who first startled him so badly he fell off his chair, would now use their own classic tactic to subtly mock them?
He was treating him like a female guest!
"Don't worry about the ratings. Even though this isn't live TV, no matter how many times you fall, you won't drive away many listeners."
"I hope so, otherwise I'll have to sit on your lap to boost the numbers~ Compared to sitting on Little Willie's lap, I think more people would prefer me sitting on your lap, don't you think?"
Max Henson reacted quickly, immediately thinking of a way to retaliate.
He'd invited Chuck to the show several times but was rejected. Now, facing Chuck directly, he naturally knew Chuck quite well and knew that Chuck was a notorious germaphobe who would never allow him to sit there.
Just thinking about it was disgusting!
That was enough!
If necessary, he'd actually sit there, as long as he could disgust Chuck and turn the tables! And incidentally, deflect from that deadly topic from before!
"Of course!"
"Wow, Mad Max sitting on Detective Chuck's lap—that's just too hot to handle, but I bet tons of people want to see it."
The two sidekicks immediately chimed in.
"The phone lines are about to explode, so let's take a few calls and let our listeners decide where I sit."
Max Henson directly cut Chuck's microphone, not giving Chuck a chance to speak, pretending to take calls to give himself more time to prepare.
"Let's take the first call of the day, hello, welcome to the Mad Max Morning Show!"
"Go sit on him!"
A deliberately lowered female voice came from the other end.
"MAX?"
Max Henson's lips twitched, and he glared at the assistant outside the recording studio who was responsible for screening calls.
"I'm not MAX... Don't change the subject! Go sit on his lap! We all want to see! Tell us whether it's like sitting on pins and needles, or like sitting on..."
The female voice on the line was extremely urgent, so much so that she eventually stopped disguising her voice and revealed the teenage MAX's distinctive tone.
And this voice was all too familiar to everyone on the Mad Max Morning Show—it was the teenage MAX who used to be a loyal superfan with the same name as Max Henson, but who'd turned against him because of the lawsuit and had harshly criticized her former idol for three straight minutes.
"Very good, the first caller has made their choice. Let's take the next caller and hear their thoughts."
Max Henson was worried that the teenage MAX who'd turned against him would cause trouble, so he hung up before she could finish.
After the show, he was going to fire this assistant!
He didn't believe the assistant screening calls wouldn't recognize MAX's voice. Besides, out of hundreds of calls, hers was the first one answered—it was obvious the assistant was deliberately causing trouble.
He used to be able to laugh it off, but not now!
"Go sit on his lap, we want to see two detectives cuddling~"
Another call came in, still with a deliberately faked voice.
"Okay!"
Max Henson immediately agreed and hung up.
He recognized the voice as Chandler's.
No way around it!
If Detective Chuck was now his number one enemy, then Chandler was number two.
Chandler not only humiliated him publicly but also entered the same field, competing for his audience—it was practically stealing his livelihood and committing the ultimate betrayal!
That's right!
Although Chandler didn't intentionally humiliate him, it was his girlfriend Susie who saw her elementary school bully's sarcastic remarks and plotted revenge by dating Max.
But at the time, they were publicly dating, and being dumped was still being dumped.
And before he could even get tired of Susie and break up with her, she actually broke up with him, giving him a reason he couldn't accept.
She said she'd already gotten her revenge on her elementary school bully, Chandler, and there was no need to stay with someone equally mean-spirited; otherwise, she'd be crazy.
But he'd clearly found out she and "Brilliant Chandler" had a late-night phone call, a very long one at that—clearly, their fake relationship had become real.
Not to mention, Chandler's style was extremely similar to his, except one was sarcastic about others, and the other was self-deprecating.
Their fan bases highly overlapped.
"Brilliant Chandler" had now officially debuted on television, and because of his connection to Susie, he received intense attention from Max's former fans.
The numbers didn't lie.
His fan base plummeted, while "Brilliant Chandler's" talk show became an instant hit.
Max Henson didn't even acknowledge Chandler's name before hanging up the phone. He then looked at Chuck, who'd been silenced but remained calm as he stared at him. His heart was filled with dread, but he forced a smile.
"Detective Chuck, you heard it too, everyone's demanding I sit on your lap, so here I come? Why aren't you saying anything? Oh my God! Everyone, you should really see his face right now, it's absolutely disgusting, are you going to have a stroke or something..."
After silencing Chuck, Max Henson launched into a one-sided tirade of mockery, gradually getting into his groove, with laughter and banter filling the studio. The sarcastic, crazy Max was back.
"Jeanette's sister went to the police station to report that she suspected her sister hadn't committed suicide because they had a very close relationship and texted each other every day. It was impossible for her sister to be depressed without her knowing.
Besides, the gas fireplace in the bedroom hadn't been used in years.
And you and Jeanette had been dating and living together for years, and every year you would mark your anniversary on your calendar. This time, your schedule was full of everything except your anniversary.
Careless, wasn't it?
The reason the police didn't suspect you despite all these red flags was because you were doing a live broadcast at the time, and countless viewers provided your alibi.
But that's not a brilliant plan at all!
Believe me!
Even if you were flying on a plane, it wouldn't be enough to prove your innocence.
You suddenly changed your classic catchphrase that day. Never used it again.
And when the police arrived, you were listening to the program at home.
Clearly, it was a signal.
As for who it was meant for?
Your house is surrounded by security cameras, the doors and windows are locked, and no one could approach silently, except through a doggy door.
And your number one sidekick, Little Willie, just happened not to be on the live broadcast at the time.
Now you're relieved, right? Thinking this theory is ridiculous?
Because even though Little Willie is short, he couldn't squeeze through a doggy door.
I know!
He's not your trained dog!
It's unlikely he'd commit murder for you, and you wouldn't dare entrust such a life-threatening task to him.
Fortunately, you have a real dog to help you, don't you?
A well-trained dog, upon hearing its trainer's command, will perform a series of predictable actions.
And squeezing through the doggy door into a locked house, into the bedroom, turning on the gas valve, and quickly leaving is quite simple—for a trained animal.
You might claim you don't have a dog.
But your neighbor does have a dog, and coincidentally, your neighbor goes on vacation every summer.
This time, the usually arrogant and difficult celebrity neighbor, Mad Max, was surprisingly friendly enough to offer to dog-sit—it was truly memorable.
For a month, every afternoon from 2 PM to 4 PM, there was no record on your schedule.
Because you were walking your neighbor's dog.
Officially, at least.
The real purpose was to train the dog to kill your girlfriend.
Why aren't you laughing?
Keep laughing!
Otherwise, you'll seem suspicious!
Laugh!"
Chuck, whose microphone was muted, quietly watched Max Henson's increasingly desperate attempts at humor, the recording studio filled with forced cheerfulness.
Then he adjusted his glasses, not shouting to make the audience hear him, but simply stating facts in the most normal and calm voice.
But as Chuck continued, Max Henson, who had recovered his composure, was instantly plunged back into panic, frequently glancing at Chuck, his wit and sharp tongue completely powerless, relying entirely on his two sidekicks.
Finally, when Chuck told him to laugh, he couldn't laugh at all. He slumped in his chair, staring at Chuck with utter terror.
His meticulously planned scheme had been running for over a year; aside from his girlfriend's sister, who simply couldn't believe her sister would commit suicide, no one suspected he, who was live-streaming at the time, could have any connection to her death.
Now even her sister had given up, thinking she was reading too much into it.
But why did Chuck seem to know every detail, as if he'd witnessed it himself?
The crucial point was that this was first-degree murder!
It couldn't be compared to a civil defamation lawsuit involving money or an apology.
At this moment, his mind was blank, filled only with horror and fear; how could he possibly laugh?
"Not laughing anymore?"
Chuck walked over, unmuted his own microphone, and calmly said, "Don't worry, you have the freedom to commit murder. This time, the judge might still overturn the jury's guilty verdict, so there's no need to wet yourself yet.
Now let's take the next call."
He glanced at the two stunned sidekicks and the assistant outside the studio.
Under Chuck's gaze, the assistant, seeing his boss frozen in shock, had no courage to refuse and reluctantly transferred the call.
"Chuck, we've located Max Henson's neighbor as you suggested. He verified your theory and has his dog ready, awaiting your instructions."
Chief Randy Disher's voice came through the line.
"Good."
Chuck nodded, then shoved the microphone to Max Henson's lips and said expressionlessly, "Now let's hear that catchphrase you impulsively came up with that day?
No?
At this point, you don't really think you can escape everything by remaining silent, do you?
My advice is to maintain your sharp tongue.
After all, in prison, your level of wit will affect your quality of life and that of many others.
Still nothing?
Fine then.
I've prepared your recording from back then.
Let's listen!"
He pulled out his phone, pressed play, and heard Max Henson, a year ago on the day his girlfriend 'committed suicide,' repeatedly shouting 'Set sail! Set sail!' on his live stream.
"It moved! It moved! The dog moved!"
came the excited voice of Chief Randy Disher from the line: "It skillfully crawled through the doggy door, entered the house, went upstairs, into the bedroom, came to the fireplace, and turned on the gas valve with its paw.
Then it quickly ran out.
Oh my God!
It even nudged the bedroom door closed with its nose.
No wonder it's Mad Max!
He really trained this dog incredibly well!
Even if he can't do radio anymore, maybe he can be a professional dog trainer..."
"You can come arrest him now,"
Chuck interrupted the naturally chatty Randy's rambling: "You'd better bring your handcuffs, and let him demonstrate his training technique for you."
"I'm on my way!"
Chief Randy Disher was genuinely intrigued. At this moment, he found it more interesting than arresting Max Henson to learn how to train someone else's dog—in just a month—to be so obedient.
"Now, let's continue."
Chuck hung up Randy's call, returned to his seat, ignoring Max Henson slumped in his chair and the two bewildered sidekicks, and began hosting the Mad Max Morning Show himself.
"Before Chief Randy Disher arrives to arrest Mad Max—who's no longer mad, just insane—everyone is welcome to call in and guess Max Henson's motive for murder, and how many years he'll be sentenced to."
Then the phone lines exploded.
Without Max's filtering, and without the assistant screening calls properly, it was impossible for the teenage MAX or the brilliant Chandler to monopolize the lines.
These were calls from regular listeners.
Most were vehemently condemning Max Henson as inhuman!
Not only did he use his girlfriend's supposed "suicide" to mock her just days later, but it turned out the so-called "suicide" didn't even exist—he had murdered his live-in girlfriend of several years.
His despicable behavior could only be described in two words:
Absolutely monstrous!
Add two more words, and it's utterly depraved!
(End of Chapter)
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