discolé monade

eddie strolled up to franky, who had his back turned, tapped him on the shoulder 'franky?' frank turned with a start 'HEY..HEY! WHAT'S THE WHAT MAN? oh...OH...it's you eddie' frank stuttered. 'i don't know nothin'' eddie squinted at him, as he was pulling a cigarette out, and remember that the place was a ticking time bomb of chemicals, put it back gingerly. 'well frank...i didn't ask you anything. yet' eddie peered over franks shoulder. it looked like few of his prized half naked japanese girl figurines had been broken all over the table near the radio. 'what's all this franky?' pointing at the dust and debris. 'looks like you had a little ....accident?' franky stuttered. he had a habit of that, when he was nervous, and about to be caught in something, eddie remembered. 'it's none of your beeswax there eddie. what do you want gumshoe?' frank asked shift eyed.

eddie headed to ole frank's place. it was out on the black horse pike, off rt 322. it was a distant little shack, landlocked by other houses. but it was home to frank and his side deals. eddie got out of the car, stepping over the cases of redbull and south american shampoo. eddie knocked on the door 'open up frank, we got some talkin' to do'. but no one answered. eddie pulled out his piece. a relic from his days on the force. a .357 police issue. 'betty', he called her. got him out of plenty of jams before, and the hairs standing up on the back of his neck, told him, it was time for her to do her thing again. 'FRANK! FRANKY!! OPEN UP'. eddie tried the handle...it opened. 'not good', eddie thought, and he knew he couldn't wait for his buddy ghostrek2[/member] to show up, he had to act now.

it's very purple.

no...You want a story, YOU'LL have to wait until we can solve this mystery. It's either the flat foot finds useful information or he hits a brick wall. Be patient. In the mean time, YOU don't need to rush us...we're getting there.

> frank foreskin was his name. and he was a real piece of work. he took side jobs under the table at casinos. he was what they called a 'cleaner'. but not in the sense the was the cool type of cleaner. no...ole frank was called in after droves of frats would rent out rooms, partying all weekend, leaving rooms smelling of days old vomit, and regret. frank didn't mind though, kept him under the radar. you see frank did some time for smuggling those half naked japanese girl figurines in from canada. which was odd, because it wasn't illegal to own them, but ole frank, he like to do things the hard way. always the hard way.

by far the worst zombie movie of all time. and ultimately one of my favorites. >

dennis reynolds much?

omg! we're getting there. but we have to set it up. people just don't want to hear events... they want to be dazzled by a story. duh.

'alright, alright, wring yourself out in the bathroom' eddie said. mirna, feeling the moistness of her ringlets, went towards the bathroom. 'i trust you eddie, but if you hang me out to dry, i don't know what i'll do' eddie though for a moment. he knew about johnny mopstock and his thugs from a previous case. although he couldn't prove it at the time, eddie was sure that johnny and his gang had been responsible for the 'great spill of '08' it was said that something had been put into the water, something that was causing male pattern baldness in the casino guests. eddie could never prove it, but he knew johnny was behind it.

these are REAL LIFE events. the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

well...it's scoob's go. >

>

this absolutely sucks. the one thing i look forward to is at least the cooler weather by this time. but it's like gawd damned july right now. it's not right. thanks obama.

eddie leaned in, 'mirna, i've swept through this town more than one time, and until the dusts settles, i can't tell who's who. so spill it, what's this all about?' mirna spun around, the smell of pine trees wafted through the office 'oh eddie, i'm scared i tells ya'. i'm not all that clean. and well....johnny mopstock has been watching me.'

her name was mirna. mirna strawrope. the ole gumshoe leaned back in his chair, an old leather junker. the kind of leather that had been washed hard with the wrong soap, and put away wet. 'what can i do for you miss strawrope?' he asked, pouring a drink. mad dog 20/20, it was the only thing he would drink. it was cheap and easy...like his women. but this dame was no ordinary dame. he could tell..there was something..special about her. maybe it was that musty smell, like a urinal. maybe it was way she could stand like a sign, warning of the wet floor. he didn't know...but he knew he was going to get to the bottom of it.

shut up scoob. > > > > > >

she hopped over to the desk. the gumshoe watched as the splinters snagged at her skirt. he knew he had to take her case...even though he was backed logged in shady dealings of casino union bosses.

i just figured out what the karma thing was.. so i've been karming people left and right. > > not saying i doubled your karma. owo

he could tell she wasn't any ordinary country mouse. no, there was something off about her walk. he could tell, she had been on the wrong side of the tracks before.

why would you be? i had no idea that lower entry had any say in upper echelon activities.

first deodorant was tickle. worst ever. but i felt all grown and what not when my step mom bought if for me.

'gonna' get the goods see. take out the head honcho, see. it's all about these union jacks and shady deals, see...' packard as near-delusional wanna-be private eye eddie ginley

these damned mosquitoes won't stop this year. this is the time of year this little assholes should be dead. but nooooooooo. here they are. still.

hell yeah it is. i really miss the north. i really really do.