Alex Trebek put his underwear on and took one last look in the tiny, cracked hand mirror that hung in his locker. It was hard to believe that come tomorrow he wouldn’t be putting on his underwear in here, right in this very spot where he’d put his underwear on every morning before going out and chasing down the bad guys. He knew it was time to pack it in, but he realized in that instant that he was going to miss this musty, run down old precinct locker room more than he ever could have imagined back in the days when he was squabbling with Peretti and Bebop over whose turn it was to buy lunch. Oh well. Alex Trebek strapped on his holster over his underwear, checking one last time to make sure he had put on his underwear, and headed out to the morning briefing.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t detective Auguste C. Dupin come to pay us a visit,” the chief announced to the room, sending all of the other cops into fits of laughter. Alex knew that he was going to get a lot of ribbing today what with it being his last day and all, so he was ready for it, but what would never stop surprising him was how well-read the chief was.

“Ha ha ha, guys, very funny. I get it, I am literally too old for this shit,” Alex Trebek said, and then held his hand out and waggled his fingers like “bring it on,” and everyone just laughed harder at him because remember he was only wearing his underwear (and a gun).

“You are old!” one of the rookies in the back of the room shouted.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, ROOKIE, OR I’LL COME OVER THERE AND SHUT IT FOR YOU,” shouted Officer Giussepe. He was a real hothead just like his people.

“Take it easy, Giussepe,” Trebek said. “He’s just trying to fit in.”

“Hey kid, I’ve got something you can fit in,” said officer Eagleton, who was black. The cops all laughed. Officer Eagleton was talking about his penis.

“Settle down, gentlemen,” the police chief said, and then they had the meeting with all the police business and stuff. Crime was down. But you could never be too careful out on the mean streets. He gave everyone their assignments and some people got new partners and at first they thought they hated the new partners but over time they learned to rely on their partners and ultimately were lifelong best friends. As they got older they would have beer-soaked barbecues in each other’s backyards and complain about their wives while their children made poor decisions thinking that their fathers would just bail them out if it got really bad, or some of them became cops themselves in a long line of cops and other cop stories.

Alex Trebek ate a bunch of donuts. They all did.

“We got a 382 on the radio,” Alex Trebek’s partner said, hitting the siren.

Alex Trebek had his arm out the window and smacked his hand on the roof of the car. “Let’s hit it!” he said. He pulled his underwear on. Cop time.

When they got to the scene, a bunch of people were standing around the body which was splayed out on a bed of broken glass. It looked like the man had jumped from his office. Or was he pushed? Alex Trebek crouched down and poked the body with a pencil as cops always do. “Well? What do you think, boss?” his partner asked.

Alex Trebek pulled his moustache down his lip and looked over it. “Who is murder?”


Then someone shot Alex Trebek and he bled to death in his partner’s arms, just one day before he was going to retire, goddamnit.

Comments (19)
  1. Where did Alex Trebek’s underwear go?

    (also, YCMIU is still my favorite, but my mind is caught on Alex Trebek’s underwear. That is a statement I never wanted to type.)

  2. What is I’m getting too old for this shit

    • It is a catchphrase, often- and HILARIOUSLY- spoken by the ancient, decrepit, nonagenarian LAPD sergeant character Roger Murtaugh throughout the four films in Richard Donner’s Lethal Weapon ser- OH WAIT, i get it!


  3. On the upside, Trebek doesn’t have to argue with his partner anymore over who gets to drive. *Sizzling sax music in the background.*

  4. “That Canadian bastard could enunciate more precisely than any other cop this force has ever seen! And his mustache… his.. glorious… ” – The chief at Trebek’s funeral, finally breaking down.

  5. I saw a preview screening of 30 minutes or less last night. Pretty funny little movie there, guy. You should check it before you wreck it.

  6. “It obvious to me, the brewery magnate was killed by someone who wasn’t a fan of his–” *sunglasses* “– potent potables.


    • This truly is his “sunglasses” Final Jeopardy

      • “The flower shop murderer’s weapons? He used various instruments, I guess you could collectively call them a –” *sunglasses* “– potpourri of weapons.”


    • “Looks like the killer will get away with it because he and/or she was already convicted of this little crime and in that case and in this instance these activities would in fact qualify for a little number I like to call…”

      puts sunglasses on his face…

      “Double Jeopardy.”


    • “Two robberies in one day? I guess this makes it a true–” *sunglasses* “– daily double.”


      • “This string of crimes is connected, I’m sure of it, Lt. Trebek. But, what is the motive?”

        “I’m sorry, **sunglasses** you didn’t phrase that in the form of a question.”

        “Yes I di–”


    • “I’ll find the the killer” said Trebek’s partner. “All I need is a chat with some witnesses, a peek at some evidence, and time for a little bit of *sunglasses* -classic concentration.


    • Trebek’s partner entered the forensics lab. The autopsy was in session. “Well,” he asked, “what the fuck have you found?”

      “We fucking found 1,280 hundred dollar bills in his stomach.” The forensic expert pulled out Trebek’s intenstines. “And in his large fucking intestine.” The forensic expert dropped Trebek’s colon and it crashed onto the table. “and in there.”

      “What kind of cockfucking shit is this?” asked Trebek’s partner. “Why would Alex Trebek swallow so much buttfucking money?”

      “Well,” said the forensic expert, “I guess that’s the…” he paused and put on sunglasses covered in Alex Trebek’s fucking blood.

      “128,000 Question”


  7. “He gave everyone their assignments (writing their names on the big blue screen in white, with a clumsy digital pen that has never looked quite right even still in 2011)…”

  8. “A statement was released today shedding more light on the death of detective and former Jeopardy! host Alex Trebek. Forensics found a small key in the anus of Mr. Trebek. Detectives investigated further, asking the victim’s family and friends as to what this key belongs to…

    “‘Yeah, that’s the key, alright!’ says young Alec Trebek, Alex’s snarky 15-year-old son from his second family in the Bronx. ‘He has this box, see. He keeps his, like, memorabilia in there, you know?’”

    “Detective Giuseppe is the lead investigator on the bizarre events surrounding the death of the beloved host. We stand outside the Bronx apartment where Trebek housed his hidden second family. Just as Giuseppe is knocking the door, a limping man hollers from across the street…

    “‘Hey, whatchoo’s doin’ over dare, huh?’ says the scraggily old man as he makes his way across the street. After asking the man, Homer Dunkis, what he knew about Mr. Trebek, he had but one word: ‘Wiseass.’ he says with a smirk. ‘I never knew the guy but what I did know of him I knew from TV and the newspaper. I wasn’t no smaat guy o’ nuffin’ but it was always nice to see a friendly face on the boob tube, you know?’ Mr. Dunkis walked back to his duplex, yelling obscenities to his downstairs neighbor.

    “We entered the home to a welcoming smile from the son we had met earlier, Alec. He showed us the box, which was neatly hidden in a carved out hole in a copy of Infinite Jest. ‘Unfinished, too.’ Alex informed us.

    “Detective Guiseppe unlocked the box only to find a single photo. It was of Will Ferrell, an SNL celebrity known for his comedic impression of Mr. Trebek. On the back of the polaroid a small sharpie-d note: ‘Fuck you, Ferrell.’”

    “We later found out that he had written many death threats to Mr. Ferrell, as well waiting for a pending gun license to go through. Ferrell had but this to say about the matter: ‘I had respect for the guy. That sonuvabitch knew a whole lot of shit. It was bound to catch up to him.’”

    “Trebek now resides in the Better Homes & Garden Cemetery just outside of his second home in the Bronx.”

    Tricia Towanoka is our lead journalist here at the New Porker. She has written many obituaries, mystery novel tinted, on many hosts/detectives, including Chuck Barris, Drew Carey, and Nick Cannon.

Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post, reply to, or rate a comment.