MISS MYSTERY: a noir short
Feb 10 '04
The Bottom Line I don't want to give away anything but TWIST ENDING!!! LOL JK
She was the classiest dame I'd ever laid eyes on; I knew that from the start. From the moment those legs sashayed into my office bookended by a pair of exquisite heels and the end of a siren-red dress, I knew I had to pour a drink. Even if she wasn't drinking, I could sure use a sip of something.
"So you're Declan King," she cooed, ruby-red lips stamping a faint crimson print on the rim of a glass that I'd have to remember never to wash again.
"The one and only," I replied, leaning back on my desk, meeting her coy gaze with a 'try me, sweetheart' look of my own. I noticed her giving me the once-over with her eyes. What was she interested in, I wonder? My strikingly ugly facial features? My unbecoming five-o'clock shadow? My ratty, rarely-washed suit? Whatever the reason, it was clear that this broad was into me.
"I notice you're a private eye."
"Maybe I am, and maybe I'm not. That's for you to find out."
"Your door says 'Declan King, Private Eye'."
"Touche." She was a smart one. I liked that.
"Mr. King," she began, walking towards me, high-heels clicking on the linoleum like a deadly metronome. "I may require your services."
My mind went wild. What would Bogart do? Certainly this called for some witty repartee, some verbal thrust-and-parry, a Bogie-and-Bacall moment. It all hinged on me, and my ability to think on my feet, and retort like any hard-boiled dick worth his weight in gin.
"Shoot."
BOO-yah!
"Mr. King." Her voice was husky. It sounded like laryngitis, phlegm, and cigarettes. It was sexy. "Right now, I need from you a simple 'yes' or 'no'. If you'd like further details on your assignment, meet me for drinks. Billie's Smoky, Atmospheric Tavern. Midnight. Will you be there?"
Will I be there? Of course I'd be there. We had a chemistry, me and this bird. The words tumbled from our lips like prose from the quills of poets. She tilted her head to the side, and her mane of jet-black waves draped itself over half of her face, revealing simply one ice-blue eye and a part of her perfectly-sculpted nose. It was mysterious. I felt like baying at the moon. "Yup."
She smiled. "Great. See you tonight." As she turned and slunk away from the office, I felt the ole ticker skip a few. This was no ordinary skirt. This girl was more than a pretty face, a voluptuous body, a dazzling smile, a head of perfectly-maintained, dandruff-free hair - and look at that! a nice meat-rack in the back den, if you know what i mean - she was a mystery. A dream. A fantasy.
I couldn't wait to see her tonight. How would it happen? Maybe we'd meet for drinks and she'd hire me to take pictures of her cheating boytoy. Then I could fabricate pictures of him in the arms of a cheap hooker - and, naturally, be the shoulder for a lovely Ms. Mystery to cry on. Perhaps I could hire a few thugs to corner her in a darkened alley after drinks at Billie's, only to show up just at the right moment and fend them off. Maybe I could just woo her with my charisma and charmingly unattractive looks. I had the feeling this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
In a daze, I lit a cigarette, sitting against the window in the process. Speaking of which, I had heard they were hiring people to replace all the window panes. I wondered if they had gotten around to my floor, the thirty-sixth, yet?
well i guess i have my answer because i am currently hurtling toward the ground luckily i was able to grab my tape recorder on the way out please tell the chick with the nice booty that i said all this about her and that i won't be able to meet her tonight and THANKS A FREAKIN' LOT vinnie's window services and wow that ground is looking
really
SPLAT
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Member: Andrew Ratliff
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Smelt just like baloney for some reason.
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