A/N: Okay - This is my first actual mystery story ever so, I can't be sure if the plot will be that good. With thanks to my favourite show (Doctor who) for inspiration. For the purpose of this, Let's pretend that the game is set in 1926, which, according to my research, it is. Yes folks, I'm so sad, I did research!

SBC officail...

Mood killer

Hmm - A letter? Just lying there? It can't be that important - I probably shouldn't read it but I can't exactly leave it there. That's just not me!

Flora thought she was acting as though anybody would at the sight of an open envolope, adressed with the nicest handwriting that she had ever seen. Her hands hovered over the coffee table where it had been set down. She bit her lip nervously as she reached out to it and picked it up - her curiosity took over her.

"Good morning, Luke. How are you today?" The Professor said as his twelve - year - old adopted son stumbled into the kitchen, with a raging case of bedhead and tired eyes, glaring at him confusedly -

"Huh? Oh, erm, me - yeah - I'm f..f..fi.."

He yawned and streched out his arms into the air. A excited scream disturbed the whole house. The professor sighed as he walked into the living room, he knew exactly what had happened.

"A party? Wow!" Luke yelped upon reading the letter himself. Flora and Luke stared at Layton -

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"I don't know. I don't really like parties - too many posh people in too many posh houses. I don't fit in, and neither would you..."

As the daughter of a well - to - do baron, Flora felt slightly offended.

"Excuse me?" She hissed "I know exactly how to behave at posh parties, anyway, you recieved a Formal Invitation! It would be rude not to attend!"

Luke joined her.

"You? Rude? I can't believe it! And, erm, Mrs. Rosemary Smith of Clinton Manor seems to have taken a lot of care in this invitation - Listen..."

"Oh, You don't have to read it out lo-" The Professor interupted. Too late!

"Dear Professor Hershel Layton," Luke read, in a posh voice "I am writing to request your presence at a party I will be holding later this month - My husband read an article in the paper about you last week, and will be intrigued to hear about your life as a famous Detective. Your children are, of course, also welcome to attend. We look forward to seeing you there - yours sincerly, Mrs. Rosemary Smith of Clinton manor"

As soon as he had finished speaking, Both children threw Layton a pleading glance.

"Oh, alright..." He muttered hastily. "What's the worst that could happen, eh?"

Hmmm - Well....

Who'd of thought that Professor Layton would say something so stupid as "What's the worst that could happen?"

Check back to find out what happens next! x