Pancakes & Handguns
A cozy crime comedy
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If the Darwin Award existed as an actual trophy, I'd bet my favorite PS5 controller I'd win it... So here I am, back in Steeltown. I'd wiped the memory of this place from my mind like it was an embarrassing drunk text. There's no happy-family welcome party, either, just me staring down the barrel of a felony charge and a gun. The FBI thinks I'm going to play Nancy Drew and solve their case for them. My aunt thinks I'm here for a job interview. And my dead dad's ghost, well... the fact that he's giving me advice tells you a lot about how screwed up my situation is. Oh, and did I mention there a...
If the Darwin Award existed as an actual trophy, I'd bet my favorite PS5 controller I'd win it... So here I am, back in Steeltown. I'd wiped the memory of this place from my mind like it was an embarrassing drunk text. There's no happy-family welcome party, either, just me staring down the barrel of a felony charge and a gun. The FBI thinks I'm going to play Nancy Drew and solve their case for them. My aunt thinks I'm here for a job interview. And my dead dad's ghost, well... the fact that he's giving me advice tells you a lot about how screwed up my situation is. Oh, and did I mention there are two ridiculously attractive men vying for my attention? One's a dorky detective who makes terrible pancakes, and the other's the FBI agent who blackmailed me into coming here. Because apparently, my love life needed to be as complicated as a batch of varenyky*. I'd tell you more about the Stephen King-themed bar and the blue-haired granny mafia running the place, but I'm in the middle of deciding whether or not to shoot the head mafia guy. It's been a busy three days... *Ukrainian dumplings are ravioli's feisty cousin who's always ready to party in your mouth.
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