The Disappearance at the Dairy Queen: Part 1/1
As promised, I have to give you some background information on this case. Unfortunately I’m not going to be able to solve it like I had orinigally planned, the reason being that this case was recently solved like 20 some years after it was committed. UGH. Fucking cops. Oh well you should still know about it.
Above is a picture of the girl who Disappeared at the Dairy Queen in 1986. “Thirteen” year old Cindy Z. WOAH. 13?! This girl looks a lot older than 13. Definitely over 18.
Cindy was one of those girls who enjoys a lot of milk products so every day after school she would frequent the local DQ with her boyfriend, Scott Ream-N-Cream. Now don’t let that demure neckline and wilted flower bouquet fool you—Cindy was no angel. She actually happened to be grounded on the day of her disappearance, which is why she didn’t tell her parents or anyone where she was going. On the morning of April 19, Cindy was waiting outside of DQ to be picked up by Daddy Ream-N-Cream, Sr. to attend Scott’s birthday party. This is where things get a lil crazy, baby.
Scotty’s dad was trolling her! There was no party. He also had a history with 13-year-old girls, 14-year-old girls, had a couple of hits on his criminal record as to raping girls, and “taking indecent liberties with children”. I think that last one means you are supposed to imagine an old man doing something to a young girl that is not rape but is of equal or greater value on the Raunchy Scale. Do it now.
Now that we’re all on the same page, you’re probably wondering why he wasn’t arrested right away. The answer is that somehow this guy managed to rape and kill Cindy and bury her body in a 4 foot grave on a property he used to own and raise bees on decades earlier and NOT leave behind any evidence. Don’t know how this ex-beekeeper managed to pull that one off but he did. It’s an awful story and I know I’ve said a lot of fucked up things but one thing I don’t like is murder. Everything else can pretty much be explained away. So poo poo on you, Art, but with a last name like “Ream” I know your hole is going to be shouting “hot tamale!” & burning from all the friction you’ll be wishing you had some DQ ice cream to sit on. So that gives me some peace of mind. If only Cindy had known about and used my designer mace, Rapescape, she might be going to the Chill n Grill drive-thru at the Dairy Queen right now.
If you guys want more information about this case, just google Cindy, Art Ream, and Dairy Queen.