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setting: 1940s new york, a small, dark, wood-paneled office in the front room of a coldwater flat in the upper east side, with a view facing the fire escapes and clotheslines of other, similar cramped apartments in other, similar cramped brownstone buildings. a half-glass door, from the interior of the office, reads "rotagitsevnI etavirP marhcS yrneH". our protagonist, a hardened man, with a sharply cut jawline, heavy, dark brow, and steeled blue eyes, smokes while his desk fan lulls in a lazy circle in the breeze from the slightly-opened window. a shadow appears at the door of a woman in a brimmed hat and trenchcoat appears behind the glass, briefly pausing, hesitantly almost, before rapping lightly on the door. "come in," he manages to grumble, without taking his feet off the desk or looking up from his book. the door opens, and in steps a strikingly beautiful middle aged redhead, wearing a deep oxblood trench coat, darkened glasses and smoking with a cigarette holder. a husky voice half-whispers, half-sobs, "i need...i need help. with my son. he's gone again." the investigator raises his brow slightly, all the while reading his book. "and?" "you don't understand, my boy is gone. just disappeared. i'm willing to pay you anything. anything at all," she croaked. the investigator, slightly more interested at the prospect of keeping the lights on in his dump of an office/apartment, looked up from his book, placing it on the desk, and removing his feet from the desk. "have a seat." the redhead sat in the chair across the desk from the man, and began to speak. "my son...he's...fallen in with a rough crowd. out all hours of the day and night, waiting in lines and stealing newspapers. he said he had a new job, and left his job at the docks. he stopped coming home in time for dinner. he started leaving the house earlier and earlier in the morning. the next thing i knew, he was using my kitchen scissors and not putting them back. then...then one morning when i went in to tell him to come to breakfast i..." she choked back a sob, and regained what little composure she had articulated. "...i caught him...just piles of newspapers. hundreds. maybe more. just cutting them up and stacking squares and rectangles." "...he's collecting articles?" the investigator puzzled. "no, no...it's...he's..." the tears flowed. her voice cracked with the sorrow of a mother losing the fight for her child. "he's...dealing again...and..." the investigator leaned forward, looking directly into her completely obscured eye region. "he just took off and hasn't come back. left a note." she handed it to the investigator. "he-e says...says...he's...going to the new B-Best Buy..." the investigator, who had slipped his reading glasses on, squinted at the note, a look of anger crossing his face. "ma'am. you're sure this is his handwriting?" the woman looked up, somewhat startled, and said "y--yes. yes i am sure. i think. i don't know really whose it could be otherwise." "you came to the right place." Henry Schram stood up and grabbed his hat, smokes and coat, heading for the door. the woman, bewildered, said "where are you going?" "i'm going to get your son. that note is a coded ransom note from the C&D gang. they're going to start sending him back in pieces if we don''t get them 99 cents per can off Jumex Mango Nectar within the next 11 hours." the woman began sobbing and gasping for air while hurriedly following the man out of the office, the door slamming behind them as they descended flightws of stairs, managing to squeak out "how will we go about saving him?" Schram paused and looked back. "they may discount my abilities, but i know exactly how to make these creeps pay the price. now let's go deal with them and save your son." |
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Feb 15, 2019 18:15
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| # ? Apr 24, 2024 17:56 |
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[one byob poster to another as lurker creates listing for inexpensive printer ink]: forget it jake, its coupontown
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Feb 15, 2019 18:21
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hel0po |
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Feb 17, 2019 23:51
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Ilsa, I'm no good at getting emptyquoted, but it doesn't take much to see that the posts of three active users don't amount to a hill of thos beans in this crazy forum. |
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Feb 18, 2019 05:12
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Cool
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Feb 18, 2019 08:59
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| Need more of this character OP | |
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Feb 19, 2019 12:02
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I started to tell her, but her eyes glazed over faster than a donut jam at the Krispy Kreme. |
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Apr 21, 2023 07:53
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these were no ordinary legs. this broad was leaping against the walls like Spring Heeled Jack. her pale gams had us in a collective tizzy as she sprang about the hallways going "WHAT A GAS THIS IS". It was terrifying even for a seasoned working stiff like yours truly
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Apr 21, 2023 08:09
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*dances the Charleston* |
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Apr 21, 2023 13:02
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she slid into the room like jelly dripping off toast, and slid into my life like tom cruise in socks. she had a shell for days and titties so human they were dreading tax day.
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Apr 21, 2023 13:45
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She was all legs. No, I mean it. She was just legs.
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Apr 21, 2023 14:06
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Get yer hands off me ya big palooka! This is an automat, not a speakeasy! |
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Apr 21, 2023 17:30
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Sherbert Hoover posted:she slid into the room like jelly dripping off toast, and slid into my life like tom cruise in socks. she had a shell for days and titties so human they were dreading tax day. |
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Apr 21, 2023 17:55
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Sherbert Hoover posted:she slid into the room like jelly dripping off toast, and slid into my life like tom cruise in socks. she had a shell for days and titties so human they were dreading tax day. |
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Apr 23, 2023 00:57
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I put a slug into the back of the Yobber Boy's head as he pressed his lips to the aquarium and tapped. It was kinder that way. Easier. The kid never saw it coming, I told myself, even as I damned myself as a liar. I couldn't meet the fishes' eyes. It was like they were all saying lmao. lmao owned As I wiped my prints I noticed the poor slob's shoes were unvelcrod. I knelt and fastened them. Incriminating? Maybe. But we're all going to hell, at one speed or another, racing to the bottom of the same ravine. God help the bastards who chilled on the way down.
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Apr 23, 2023 03:49
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Sherbert Hoover posted:she slid into the room like jelly dripping off toast, and slid into my life like tom cruise in socks. she had a shell for days and titties so human they were dreading tax day. lmao
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Apr 23, 2023 21:39
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big stretch's tommy gun sang a song just for me and as i lied there bleeding out i could only think that all the dames, all the gold, all the whiskey and cars in the world never made me as happy as the one gf that let me watch her pour blue fluid on a tampon 1x/month
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Apr 23, 2023 22:12
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Sherbert Hoover posted:big stretch's tommy gun sang a song just for me and as i lied there bleeding out i could only think that all the dames, all the gold, all the whiskey and cars in the world never made me as happy as the one gf that let me watch her pour blue fluid on a tampon 1x/month
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Apr 24, 2023 00:09
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| # ? Apr 24, 2024 17:56 |
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Blue Fluid Has My Angel
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Apr 24, 2023 00:09
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