Everyone who has been following the #freewrite adventures and especially the activities of the new @FreeWriteHouse during the last weeks probably knows amazing 
Only a few days ago, a new player came to town – or at least she showed up for the first time and has been roaming the streets (and also adjacent comment sections). If you’ve followed the comment sections of the @FreeWriteHouse, you might know many of her adventures (or mishaps ...) already. Yet here they are, put together for the first time - and maybe already the last time?
(Pinches’ business card was designed by ... well, herself)
It was all over the news. Inspector Dash had presented his findings on the FreeWriteHouse Murders. Investigative writer, wool enthusiast and plant fibre experimenter 
Pinches felt like there had been happening more in the last days than in her whole live before. How on earth had she gotten into this mess?
Day 1
Pinches dropped the binoculars in disgust. What was it with Dash and this sweet stuff? How could he even talk while munching on pudding and dough and hell knows what else they had put into that doughnut? A shiver went down her spine and back up again, ending in a weird utter of nausea.
Why did she have to follow him, was this some sort of punishment? Only because she had fed Thurman's annoying Chihuahua a home made poppy cookie last week? It was ridiculous. Neither this so-called dog nor Thurman had any sense of humor. Plus: Finally, the Chihuahua had slept for six hours instead of yapping at literally everything. Really, everything, she thought, even at the paper bin or the super chunky on-ear headphones she had brought with her on "Socializing with colleagues day". And who would name a Chihuahua "Hulk", anyway?
She sighed. Okay, back to Dash. What was he up to? Did it have anything to do with this weird interview? Cloning, hmmm. Pinches startled. Oh no, she thought, was Dash thinking about cloning himself? She had to prevent this, one Dash was already more than she could take. Maybe she should check out those cloning companies soon, just to make sure they weren't working on a Dash clone already.
"Okay, let's see", she mumbled, "what companies are there?" She did a quick search and took a few notes. Meanwhile, she noticed that Dash and this ... what was his name again? Anyway, they had taken off. Yes, she was supposed to follow them, but this cloning danger had priority now. She looked at her list:
- Clone of the Dark
- Clonehemian Rhapsody (she guessed they did some artsy cloning stuff)
- "C" - A City Searches for a Clone (pfff, as if they would run around like this ... or wait?)
- Sweet Clone of Mine
Pinches started the engine. Okay, first things first, she thought, and turned on the music: "Is this the real world ...?" Yeah, good question.
Day 2, part 1
Pinches took a deep breath of relief. Dash hadn’t been here yet. That was good news. She crossed out the name of the company in her notes: Sweet Clone of Mine
Then she looked at the flashy screen on which a weird advertisement was delivered. First, she thought it was real estate, because it said “FreeWriteHouse”, but then appeared a lovely woman with glasses who said some things about podcasts.
Pinches sighed. First cloning, now podcasts. What a day it had been so far. How did this all fit together?
Her mobile made a croaking noise. Great, Thurman was calling right now. Maybe his Chihuahua had taken up tap dance as she had suggested last week when Thurman had asked her what he was supposed to do about the yapping.
“Hello?”
“Pinches, there’s a change of plans, but you probably know, right?”
Know what? she thought. That Thurman’s wife had an affair with his secretary? Well, she didn’t know that, she just always thought that this would be funny. Or that oranges were going to be re-named Xyllyphyllystryphys next months by the “Save the consonants!” movement?
“Know what?”
“Pinches, there has been a serious podcast incident. People all over the country stopped doing whatever they were doing and started producing podcasts! We need all hands here - now!”
“To ... produce podcasts, too?” Pinches guessed.
Thurman snorted in derision. Or was out of tissues again. “Just abort the surveillance of Dash, and come back, Pinches!"
Day 2, part 2
Pinches looked at Thurman, then down to his Chihuahua again. This didn’t look right.
“Sir ...?”
“What ... oh, yes, thanks for your advice, Pinches, I had Hulk registered for a tap dance class last week. Actually, I wasn’t sure if tap dance was up his alley, I wanted to enlist him for tango, but the last spot was taken by a Dalmatian.”
Pinches looked back at Thurman. She suddenly felt this wave of affection. Or maybe it was heartburn, she couldn’t tell the difference. Maybe she shouldn’t have watched Dash eating this doughnut yesterday, no wonder she had felt nauseated ever since. She really didn’t want to know what Dash was eating today. Maybe he had been called in yesterday, too, because of this podcast incident.
Unfortunately, this incident seemed resolved for the moment – Thurman had alarmed all the big players to watch out for subversive podcast activity, above all the International Department In Order To Spy (IDIOTS).
“Pinches, there has been a murder, and I guess Dash is on to it. So follow him again.”
“Yes, Sir”, she yawned, and grabbed her list of cloning companies. Dash couldn’t really run away, she thought, at least not as long as there wasn’t a national doughnut crisis that would force him to get into another country in warp speed. Maybe she should put on her Lieutenant Uhura costume tomorrow, Pinches thought.
“Okay”, Pinches mumbled, standing in front of the elevators. ”I’ve checked out one company, Sweet Clone of Mine, complete failure, let’s go to another one.”
“Cloning?” a high pitched voiced behind her said.
She turned around, then look up. This guy was huge!
“Yes. What do you know about it?”
The informant
An informant who went by the name of 
Day 3
Pinches was exhausted.
When she had volunteered for „Pimp up detective work with music”-day, she had done so because she had been looking forward to get away from Thurman and his annoying Chihuahua Hulk for a few days. That Hulk had taken up tap dancing hadn’t made him an iota less annoying, in fact, Pinches felt that he was even more energized now and could yap on for not only six but eight straight hours.
Plus: She volunteered because she thought that she didn’t have to follow Dash anymore, although that did have a few humorous moments, as long as Dash wasn’t eating. Which he did almost all the time, so ... And music, sure, Pinches loved music. A few days ago, on this wild expedition to cloning companies, she had put the company Clone of the Dark on her list. She couldn’t explain it, but she had been humming “I’m a clone who walks alone” for the rest of the day.
This morning, “Pimp up detective work with music”-day had started, Pinches had brought a huge suitcase as it was supposed to be a retreat and she had waited in front of the building at eight in the morning. At a quarter past eight she pulled out the invitation to have another look: Yes, 8 a.m., it said, nut there was something in the small print she had ignored so far: “Might be a bit later, depending on the fitness of the participants.” Okay – now she was a bit worried. Even more so when she looked up and saw a small group coming around the corner, a few with bit suitcases looked already quite sweaty. Pinches frowned. That suitcase of hers had not been a good idea.
“So glad you’re coming with us”, the guy in front of the small group called out. I didn’t want to start the song again until you’d joined us, but now....” and with that he held up an 80s Boombox and pressed a button. She recognized the song immediately. She had heard it for the last time in the early 90s when her brother was practicing it with alternate lyrics because he wanted to sing it to a girl who lived 500 inches away. “And I would walk 500 inches and I would walk 500 more ...” She had wondered what girl under 20 would fall for a guy who made 500 inches sound like almost infinity. Well, to be fair, the girl hadn’t fallen for Pinches brother.
The group had reached her, the instructor smiled at her, waved the arm that didn’t have to hold the Boombox: “Let’s go, Pinches, we’re improving our skills to tail our targets, and we’re having fun at the same time.”
“Uhm, yeah ... I think I know the answer, but how far will we be walking?”
Day 4
Pinches sat at her desk. She never would have thought that sitting at her desk would make her so happy.
She really wasn’t in the mood for walking today, and probably not for the next few days. She had several blisters on her feet, and all that because of this stupid „Pimp up detective work with music”-day.
Hulk practiced his tap dance in the hallway. Thurman apparently didn't want his Chihuahua to get ahead of him, dancing-wise, and had by accident taken up breakdancing. Thurman had actually hoped that there would be a pause every other minute to chat.
Pinches sighed. Where had Thurman spent the 80s? She frowned. Where had he actually spent the 80s? Hm. She didn’t really know a lot about him, she realized. She had to pull out some old stuff, digging deep. Maybe she would find things that no one had actually seen before.
This was not a bad idea for a day she had to sit at her desk, anyway. Dash was roaming the streets or rather the diners, she thought, but he would probably still be there tomorrow. Wait! Pinches startled. The cloning thing came back into her mind. Maybe ... was it possible that Dash didn’t want to clone himself, but that he already was a clone? Pinches involuntarily started humming again: “I’m a clone who walks alone.” Stupid song. Was it even a song?
"Okay, time for some serious background checks", Pinches murmured, "digging up the past of Thurman and Dash. Let’s see what I can find."
Hulk tap danced past her office entrance, followed by Toprock Thurman. Another day in the office.
Day 5, part 1
Pinches was still furious. A few days ago she had thought she would be able to solve the clone mystery, that this guy who had addressed her in front of the elevators was the problem to all her solutions .... no, wait, that wasn’t ... Anyway.
After chatting to him for a few minutes and wondering why he would not answer but instead make weird grimaces, start twisting balloon animals (no Chihuahua, though, as far as she could tell), put a red wig on her head and push all buttons inside the elevator – she found out that he didn’t mean cloning but clowning. As it turned out, he had just tried to teach the staff in the other department on interview techniques, focus: How to ensure your informants feels that they are taken seriously.
Pinches ran out of the building. She needed air and took a deep breath. Wtf? That didn’t smell fresh at all! Some earthy smell was in the air, almost like ... decay. Thurman had given her a note earlier, indicating that Dash was running around trying to solve some strange murders. Well, Pinches thought, judging by the smell, Dash had to be close. She looked around. Nope, nobody in her sight was eating. But there .... wasn’t that Dash’s assistant? He had just dropped his phone, which gave Pinches time to hide behind an advertisement for the new game “PI” (USP: No more secrets! Fun for the whole family, divorce attorneys and social services). Pwww, looked like Dash’s assistant hadn’t seen her.
After having had to watch Thurman’s Chihuahua practicing his stupid tap dance all day (though she had to admit the dog was getting pretty good at it) and not being able to find much on Dash’s past yet, she decided to drive straight to the building where Dash had his office.
Pinches looked up the facade of the old house. She hadn’t really though about how she could get inside without attracting too much attention. She had always wanted to make a Batwoman-like entrance. Up to an adjacent roof and jump through the window, right? Pinches went inside the neighbor building and took the elevator to the top floor. Thankfully, it was an apartment building, so there weren’t constantly people running through the hallways. “Because it would be so embarrassing if they could see me”, Pinches thought. She hadn’t even made it out of the fire escape and got stuck in the middle of the only slightly opening exit door - Seems broken, but that’s enough space for me! – trying to hold her breath and become somehow thinner so that she would slide through, in which direction ever. Suddenly she heard loud yelling and cursing. It was Dash's voice.
“Who DOES that? First sentence, okay, but then interference and twist? What the ...” She couldn’t hear the rest because a skywriting plane flew above her head, painting “Stuck? Try something new!” Yeah, great idea, she thought. And that she definitely had to work on her Batwoman-like entrances.
Pinches was exhausted. Again. It had taken her about half an hour to get out of an open door. She had changed her plans, got back to the car and had another look at the notes she had taken. These cloning companies .... Maybe she should check out Clone of The Dark after all.
“I’m a clone who walks alone”, Pinches hummed for the third day in a row. She was starting to believe this.
Day 5, part 2
Pinches' phone croaked. Great, Thurman.
„Hello?“
„Is this Ms. Pinches?“
Okay, this wasn’t Thurman. Either Thurman’s Chihuahua had also started taking up ventriloquism and was now practicing on his owner’s phone, or Thurman had lost his mobile again in the park while trying to juggle pineapples on a unicycle in an ill-led attempt to impress the ladies that were meeting there every Tuesday to knit cat socks.
“Who is this?”
“It’s the CEO of Clone of the Dark, Harrison Ford. You’ve just visited our company and I wasn’t available.”
Pinches was baffled.
“But ... the number. You called from my boss’s number!”
“Not exactly. It’s only a security measure, we don’t publish our numbers and so we, well, cloned one that is stored on your device.”
Pinches shook her head. Clones everywhere. This was like this film, Fork Lifter, Knife Walker or what was it again?
“Uhm, Mr. Harrison ...”
“Ford.”
“What?”
“Ford is my last name.”
“Okay, Mr. Ford, what can I do for you?”
“I do have some information that is ... quite delicate. It’s about another cloning company, You Think You’re A Clone, Now ...”
Pinches laughed out loud, maybe too loud.
“Excuse me, Miss, this is serious information ...”
“Sorry, Mr. Harrison ...”
“Ford!”
“Sorry Ford, I’ve had too much clowning today. So, what do you suggest? Would you like to come to my office?”
“Hell no! I’ve seen other offices, no sauna, not even a personal barista. Thanks, but no thanks. I think the Club 100 is more appropriate.”
This didn’t even sound legal to Pinches, unless the number simply referred to the checksum of birthday plus checksum of the account number times shoe size. Which it didn’t, as she was about to learn.
“Okay, where is this Club 100?”
“You have to take the FreewriteHighway ... you’ll see lots of prompts to the left and to the right. Keep driving. When you’ve passed the hundredth prompt, a door will appear...”
This sounded crazy. Pinches was pretty sure now that she did have too much clowning and whatever Crazy Barry from the neighbor office had put into her coffee this morning.
Day 6, part 1
Pinches was so tired. She had woken up today from a bad dream: Dash had invited her to a gym, he wanted to practice for the first FreewriteVilleMarathon, and when they got onto the treadmill he hit it off and ran like lightening while she couldn’t even get this thing started. She had woken up in sweat. So at least that must have had some sort of training effect, she thought.
She was the only one in the elevator to her office floor. Weird. Crazy Barry usually arrived at the same time as she did, Thurman’s secretary, too, who made an attempt every day to not show up at all, but then she would, because she felt sorry for the plants in her office.
The elevator door opened, Pinches was immediately blinded by a bright light, followed by a loud bang and she felt some tingling on her face and hands and, hey, in her cleavage that really wasn’t much of a cleavage today, thanks to the warm and comfy and slightly unfashionable pullover those sweet ladies in the park had once knitted for her when they had realized there was still so much wool leftover after they had finished their cat socks.
Pinches heard Thurman’s voice, though she still couldn’t see anything.
“Congratulations, Pinches!”
W...? Congratulations? She tried to think hard. Was it her birthday? No. Was it the 500th time she had taken the elevator. No clue. Maybe he congratulated her because he had finally decided to leave his Chihuahua at home? That didn’t make sense, but she was hopeful that ... no, she could hear the tapping sound, Hulk seemed to dance in circles around her.
“You’ve won a basic income in our daily investigator’s lottery!”
Finally, she could see Thurman’s contour. His head had a weird shape, though.
“Sir, a basic ... what? I didn’t play in a lottery, this must be ...”
“Yes, you did”, Thurman interrupted her, “we just don’t tell anyone until he or she has one. You know, so they won’t regret playing ...”
This made somehow sense to her and was completely crazy at the same time. But she didn’t want to argue. She now could see again and realized that she had been blinded by a huge old camera that Crazy Barry held in his left hand, the even bigger flash in his right hand. Pinches didn’t know what made her feel more grateful: that she had won or that Thurman wore the party hat she had once given him for special occasions.
“Does this mean ... I don’t have to work any longer? That I don’t have to follow Dash anymore?”
Thurman’s smile vanished. Oh, right, she thought, that was supposed to be a secret.
“We’ll see about that, Pinches. Why don’t you just enjoy your day now? Barry has brought some coffee and cupcakes.”
Wow. Pinches was overwhelmed. She went to her desk, Barry said he had decorated it with ice flowers in the morning, so ..., yeah, she was in a good mood, it was his good intend that counted.
She took a sip of coffee, a bite of a chocolate cupcake. Yummy.
Pinches was suddenly even more tires than before. She should take a nap, she thought. It was almost ten in the morning and she had been up for an hour after all. While thinking this, she suddenly felt like she was looking down onto herself from the ceiling. She had laid her head onto the desk, even started snoring a bit. What the hell was this? Did she have an out of body experience? Damn Crazy Barry with his coffee and cupcakes.
Maybe it had been a good idea after all that she had met this cloning CEO in the Club 100 yesterday. You never know.
Day 6, part 2
Pinches didn’t know what had happened. One moment, she had been standing in a confetti rain in her office, the next moment she had some sort of out of body experience (or Crazy Barry had put some serious stuff into her coffee today) and now she found herself in a place she wasn’t really familiar with.
She tried to recollect the events of last night. This CEO had called her and they had met in the Club 100. Ford something ... Prefect, Perfect, Predator. No, that wasn’t his name. Anyway. He had promised some information on another cloning company, but he wanted something in return.
“And that would be...?” Pinches had asked.
“Participate in our trial run. Spots one and two are already taken, but there’s still a third candidate needed. I’m willing to give it to you, but you have to give me something in return.”
“But I thought this was already the return for ...”
“Never mind, I can’t just give it to you” He wanted to leave.
“Wait!” Pinches yelled so loudly that the two other guests in this Club turned around. She blushed. Pinches hated it when she drew the attention of an entire room onto herself.
“Yes?” The CEO sat down again.
“What do you want?”
“Okay, now we’re talking.”
Pinches suddenly regretted that she had not attended this clown’s class on interviewing techniques earlier. He was literally a clown and she felt like it would have been good to break the tension now.
“Our PR person just quit and we need a report of today’s events in the next 232 seconds. Care to write something?”
Pinches startled. Write? That wasn’t her thing.
“I really can’t wr...”
“Just 210 seconds. You want in?”
“But I’m not a writer, I can’t even follow persons properly. I mean, I really should have listened to my parents when they said I should take up snowball fights as a profession or have a look into cloud counting ...”
“Only 180 seconds.”
“What do you mean by today’s events, anyway? As far as you and I are concerned, we have just met 5 minutes ago ...”
“170 seconds. That’s up to you. We just need something for the press. And frankly, I do have a personal barista in my office, do you really think I would ever do something myself? 160 seconds, by the way.”
Pinches thought had. A report. She had heard that word before. Thurman wanted her to write reports all the time, but he never asked twice, so she never had given him a report and he never had to read one. It was a classic win-win. Reports were supposed to be ... what was it again? Funny? Objective? Short? Vivid? She didn’t remember. And what had happened today? How would she know what had happened in this guys company, Clone of the Dark?
“100 seconds.”
Okay, she thought, she spent too much time thinking. Think harder, no, think less, arrgh...
“90 seconds”
Okay, okay, she had been humming a lot lately, maybe this could help her. Clone who walks alone .... hmmmm.... she started humming again, looked around and noticed that the CEO was lifting his left eyebrow. Probably not in appreciation, as far as she could tell.
“60 seconds. And remember, you do not only have to come up with something, you also have to write it down ...”
Pinches grabbed her notepad and a pen. That made her look quite active, she thought, pretty much like she was having an idea. Which she hadn’t. Cloning company, Dash, then this clown, but he didn’t have anything to do with this man’s company, or had he? She was confused and didn’t even hear the next announcement.
Focus, Pinches, focus. She started writing.
“10 seconds ... 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, that’s it.”
Pinches dropped the pen. Right in time.
She handed her notepad to the CEO. He had a brief look, lifted his eyebrow again, but this time she was pretty sure it was a good thing. He could somehow lift his eyebrows in different ways, she realized. Fascinating.
“Okay”, he nodded, “that’s pretty good I have to say. Well, good enough for the press anyway, haha. Pinches, you’re in, spot three in our trial run. Congratulations!”
Pinches exhaled in relief. Wait, she thought, didn’t he want to give me information on this other cloning company? But he had already left the Club 100.
She definitely had to take up a class on interviewing her informants, she thought, with or without clown.
As