The scene:  a detective’s office.  Chandler High School.  Inside the janitor’s closet.  “My name is Cage.  Drexton Cage.  And I’m a high school detective.”  When a mysterious Southern belle hires Drexton to solve a simple little frame-job, the no-brainer gig suddenly becomes a tangled web of intrigue.  Trying to keep an IQ-decathlete from getting expelled for supposedly stealing some test answers, Drexton finds the buzzing hive of high school adrift with suspects, motives and way too many clues.  Tracking down the femme fatal who hired him is easy and leads to the head of rival Hammett High’s decathlon team, but according to Drexton, “When the plot gets easy on the eyes, something’s gotta twist.”  And that’s just what this delightfully clever play does.  Reminiscent of a dime store novel come to life, the stage action gets assistance from three “pages” — Chapter, Glossary and Index — who expand the tongue-in-cheek humor to set the scenes on this bare-bones stage.  Drexton’s best friend and secret love Betty Ann helps him dig up the dirt as they wade through the drama clubs, decathlon teams and other high school cliques to put the pieces together.  Memory sequences bathed in pools of light lay out the facts, and suspects scatter like roaches as the light bulbs appear over Drexton’s head.  This totally teen mystery bursts with comedy like a giant piece of bubblegum as it reveals for our gumshoe the only thing that matters:  whodunit?