Jessica Fletcher, about to solve Cabot Cove's latest mystery, suddenly grows woozy and slides out of the overstuffed armchair to her knees. Her empty tea cup falls to the floor.

"That's right," the murderous minister gloats. "That wasn't Irish tea…it was Sleepytime!"
Other shitposters would be too lazy to do the research and ensure their hardboiled Murder She Wrote fanfic is accurate. But not me...I put in the work:
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