Open Mic: Bored Games: CLUELESS

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The classic game of who-done-it and who-the-fuck cares

Colonel Mustard's in the lounge bound to his devices 
A drama queen to girly things surrounded by his vices
His title don't mean shit, his fam don't give him power
His yellow streak's the same as found on any given coward
He's a snitch, he's a bitch, he's really quick to join a clique
Delete's the matrix he's created with a simple point n click
Programmed to spam with lies while he's ripe for gainin' wealth:
Just give this kid some rope and watch him hang himself 

Miss Scarlett is a fresh young slut who fucks to stay ahead
Instead of mixing work with play she's into makin' beds
An actress on the mattress, an Oscar comes to mind
Referring to the old dude she lets get it from behind
You can find her in the ballroom laid across the billiard table
Rackin' up a list of studs, enough to fill a stable
Not even able to make this up, the shit just writes itself
It's easy to see what does her in soon as the pipe is dealt  

Mr. Green thinks he's mean, dreams he's bulked-up like The Hulk
But when no one else can feel his rage, all he does is sulk
S'like they didn't get the memo or they misplaced their planner
Exposed himself to gamma rays but to them he stayed as Banner
And sure enough that made him madder and sadder at that music
His envy turned to anger that he'd forgotten how to use it
Which just creates more problems to bog a problem solver
So he's bloggin' in the study becomin one with a revolver   

Mrs. Peacock's seen her better days, her figures kinda dumpy
She still rocks her thong-n-skirt but the perk has turned to lumpy
Grumpy her career has veered n went the same way as her rear
On a collision course to hit the floor or miss what got her here
Lost what she held dear, now she's broken and forgotten
So she's quick to ply it to young guys if they wanna hop it
As she lights the candlestick, she ignites in blinding doom
Drapin' bibs onto these kids, spreads her legs for dining room    

Professor Plum sits in the kitchen and ponders what he's cooked up
He's given each a role to play and found new ways to hook up
 took up many of his hours, players left then came again
he's had too much fun with it to think the game could end
Sins, they came aplenty yet he can't answer for these crimes
Past his prime for many years, the cancers creeped his mind
The years have flown and gone 'n he knows he won't get any back  
So he slits his throat with the exact same knife he's put in many backs  

The end.

Oh wait....

That's right, there's Mr. White. why's he been so quiet?
He didn't want to play the game so he didn't even try it
Never came up with a murder plot or a weapon to apply it
His only crime was inside his mind where he remained defiant 
Incited invisible riots against the science of this land of giants
Defied the rules and clues of timing like he stands against the Mayans
Story ends in the conservatory, glory in his hands
Couldn't stand to see it be a mystery so tossed a wrench within their plans