IN: THE CASE OF THE UNDULATING UNGULANT
minute the dame walked into my office I knew she
would be trouble. Everything about her said
'trouble'. The way she opened the door and made
the hinges scream like the offspring of a
shilling whore and a member of the cast of Friday
the 13th. The way her high-heeled shoes clicked
upon the floorboards like a pair of castanets in
an oyster farm. Those, and the sandwich board she
was wearing with 'trouble' written across it in
five different languages.
Pistachio, I need your help," she said
through a pair of moisten lips as red as the
bottom of a sunburnt embarrassed tomato child
who's just been spanked.
looked her up and down, from the shoes to the
long blonde hair, stopping shortly once again on
the sandwich board, before returning my gaze to
you're ugly," I said.
was a little trick my old mentor 'Bathroom
Cleaner' McCarthy had taught me. Don't flirt with
the sexy ones. Bring 'em down. Show 'em their
place in the customer/client relationship with a
well-timed insult. 'Bathroom Cleaner' had been a
great man, despite the unfortunate event that led
to the creation of his nickname and permanent
smiled a thin little smile, the kind of smile a
badger would make when faced with whatever it is
badgers like to eat. "Can I sit down?"
she asked, but the tone in her voice was serious,
as far removed from badgers as a tone of voice
If that sandwich board will let you."
sat down. On the floor. This didn't faze me much,
as there was only one chair in my office, and my
hips were parked firmly upon it. On the whole,
looking back, I'm not entirely sure why she
you mind if I ask?" I queried, looking down
at her pretty little face, now currently level
with my knees.
what?" she breathed, putting more passion
into two words than can be found in a truckload
of passion fruit parked outside a brothel.
the sandwich board?"
this? I just threw on whatever was clean."
tipped a shot of bourbon down my throat.
"Couldn't you have found one that covered
your face as well, you hideous scabby old
smiled again. I smiled back. Ol' Bathroom would
be proud. "Mr. Pistachio," she said. I
didn't say that. It would've been odd if I had
said that. "I need to hire your services.
It's about my father."
dread to think what satanic beast could've
spawned a hellish bitch-queen like you."
been killed, Mr. Pistachio."
apologies. I dread to think what apparently dead
satanic beast could've spawned a hellish
bitch-queen like you."
me Trent. You're making me sound like a Disney
I need you to investigate his murder. Everyone
thinks my brother Leonard did it, but I know it
could never have been him." She looked up at
me with those big brown soulful eyes like my
mother's Pekinese had made after pissing up my
trouser leg. Little did she know that I had then
kicked it to death.
was caught holding a bloody knife over the corpse
by fourteen witnesses, and when he was arrested
said 'I'm glad I stabbed the bastard.'" she
continued, wiping away a tear with a hanky with
'trouble' written across it.
nodded slowly, like a badger would nod when faced
with an argument a badger might agree with.
"So what makes you think he didn't do
it?" I asked.
father was killed by a gun, Mr. Pistachio."
told you to call me Trent, you ghastly bearded
stood up from my chair, and she stood up too.
Then I sat down again and crossed my legs. Then
she sat down again, too. Finally I stood up
again, then when she stood up, twatted her round
the head with a cricket bat. She sat down again.
crossed over to my office window, and looked
through the blinds at the broiling city. Yep, I
thought, it's still there.
you deformed monster, I'm afraid I can't help
You think I should go to the police? They can't
I can't help you because I'm not a private
eyes widened like the wallet of a city hall
pen-pusher when faced with an extortionate bribe.
I'm a landscape gardener."
you wouldn't be able to investigate my father's
might be able to go round your house and advise
you on what sort of shrubbery to buy."
say she was a little disappointed would be like
saying that Jeffrey Dahmer was a little
eccentric. "I see," she said.
frankly, I'd rather not, because I fear that if I
spend much longer in the presence of your
fearsome visage then I may be heartily and
noisily sick all over the floor."
got up to leave, adjusting her sandwich board
accordingly. "Then I will not take up any
more of your time, Mr. Pistachio."
TRENT, you unspeakable old goat!!" I yelled,
leaping onto the desk and readying my cricket bat
for another swing. I'll say one thing for the
harridan. She almost got out in time.
I had beat her skull into the consistency of
mush, I fell back into my only chair and poured
another glass of bourbon. This proved difficult,
as I had broken the bottle in my rampage. I
shrugged, sat back and placed my feet upon the
love my job.
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