"Dear Molly,
I'm competing with 18,000 preachers, plumbers, writers, shrinks—and a set of quintuplets—to be the new you. If I win the contest, I could solve a lot of problems … and maybe your murder, too. The problem is, between the paper's sleazy management, bitter rival columnists, and the psychos who read your column, I've got more suspects than Walgreen's has Rolaids, and so far, I've only ruled out Ann and Abby …
Baffled in Boston,
Scotty"