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Friends
Dec. 18th, 2009
03:22 pm - My DH-character Fiction
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Dec. 17th, 2009
09:56 pm - Missy Wilkinson, PI: the early year - the ninth chapter
Nine Little Chapters…
As Mary stepped on the breaks, a piano fell from out of the sky, barely missing the car and slamming on the street. She rolled down the window.
“HA!” she shouted, “You missed!”
She quickly rolled up the window as a piano slammed into the ground next to her car door.
“Now they’re after ME,” she muttered. “I will get those piano makers, and their little benches, too.”
“Where do the pianos come from, though?” Gary asked.
Patrick pointed up.
“That’s obvious, but where in the sky?” Gary asked.
“I imagine a catapult of some type firing off pianos at a great rate to test their endurance. For some reason, these pianos are always aimed at cars Missy and Mary rent.”
“Always?”
“It’s always been like this, yes,” Missy told him. “Ever since we were teenagers, pianos have been trying to destroy our rental cars.”
“We’re here,” Mary announced.
Patrick turned to Wendy and said, “Are you coming with us?”
“That’s very personal, Patrick,” Missy replied. “Don’t ask such questions.”
“I can’t step out of this car right now,” Wendy replied. “It… It isn’t safe.”
“From what?” Patrick asked.
Missy hushed him. They all stepped out of the car, leaving Wendy to take care of Jose. Wendy rolled down the window and Jose stuck his little doggy head out.
“Guacamole!” Jose called out.
Patrick did a double take. “The dog talks?”
Jose growled and called out, “Tamale!”
“And speaks Spanish?” Patrick asked.
“Yeah,” Mary replied, “but he only speaks Spanish. He’s not very useful as a translator.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” Patrick commented.
They walked over to where the police had gathered. Bruce was waiting for them. As they approached, he handed a flower to Mary.
“Sorry, I already ate a snack earlier,” she told him, declining his rose.
“What do we have here?’ Missy asked.
“Apparently, Sherri Boatman was in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Bruce replied.
“Sherri?” Missy asked. “We went to school with her.” She looked around the crime scene. “Oddly, she was killed near recycling containers.”
“What’s so odd about that?” Bruce asked.
“She was infamous for not recycling,” Missy explained. She knelt down and looked at the fresh tattoo. “And look, there’s a recycling symbol on the garbage can tattoo this time. Our killer was making an environmental statement this time.”
“You mean to say this serial killer is Green Peace?” Bruce asked.
“Uh… no,” Missy said. “Mary, can you take a look at this?”
Mary moved closer and looked at the body. “In my medical opinion, she’s dead.”
“Okay,” Missy agreed. “I think we’re done here.”
“There might be other clues,” Gary told her.
“I doubt it,” Missy said as she shook him. When she released him, she pointed to the body. “She was killed in the same way as the last one. There’s not even a hint of red rope.”
“So the red rope was a red herring?” Bruce asked.
“No… It was regular rope,” Missy told him. “I’ve never heard of fish made into rope before.”
“Fish on a rope?” Mary asked.
“Did you ever find out about the rope or the drug used to kill the first victim?” Bruce asked.
“I believe we have decided that both were red herrings,” Missy replied. “We need to focus on other things, like the tattoos.”
Patrick looked at the tattoo. “You went to Jason Ripley, of course.”
“Of course,” Missy replied.
“Where’s the boat?” Patrick asked.
“Boat?”
“Sherri was a boatman. Where’s the boat?”
“Patrick, Boatman was her last name.”
“I know that, Missy. I still wonder where the boat is. Perhaps the killer has stolen the boat.”
“It’s winter. All the water is frozen over. There’s no water to take the boats on.”
“So are we looking for a boat on the roads?” Bruce asked. “Could the killer have driven off in a boat? Is that it, Patrick?”
Patrick began laughing hysterically. “Oh, that was too easy.”
“Stop toying with one of my potential love interests,” Mary hit him.
Gary was thinking, which is usually very difficult in a story like this. “Why are all the victims people we went to school with?”
“Everyone in this story is someone we went to school with,” Patrick replied. “In fact, most of the extras are Joelle Muhlhausen.”
“What?”
Patrick nodded. “Oh, yeah. She’s most of the extras.” He pointed to a hot dog stand down the block. “There she is selling hot dogs.”
They all looked, and Joelle waved to them.
“Turn slowly and there she is in the window up there,” Patrick pointed.
They all turned slowly and Joelle was in the window of a house. She waved.
“She’s at the bank over there.” Patrick pointed a mile down the road.
Gary pulled out a pair of binoculars and looked, and Joelle was in the drive up area of the bank. She was wearing the hot dog vendor hat, and was slightly out of breath.
“And she’s the doctor over there in that hospital.”
Gary looked towards the hospital. Joelle was near the Emergency Room exit, leaned over and hyperventilating.
“That’s incredible,” Gary commented.
“That’s Joelle.”
They reached the car, and Missy opened the door. “Everyone in this story went to our school. It’s the way it is set up.”
“I didn’t go to your school,” Wendy commented.
“Yes you did,” Missy told her.
“I think I would remember that,” Wendy argued.
“You were there for a week before you transferred out,” Missy said.
“No…”
“Wendy, everyone in this story went to school with us… even Agent SM. If you didn’t go to school with us, you can’t be in this story. Get it?”
Suddenly, Wendy understood. “Oh! Yeah, I guess I was there for a week before I transferred out. How could I have forgotten that?”
“Better.”
As they all fastened their seatbelts, and another piano slammed onto the roof of the car, Patrick asked, “Where are we going now?”
“I don’t know,” Missy replied. “Where does the manuscript say we need to go next?”
“We kind of threw that out the window when we picked up Patrick,” Mary told her.
“We haven’t changed too much. We could still check it out,” Missy replied.
“No, she means we really threw it out the window,” Gary explained. “A few miles back.”
“Well, that wasn’t good. Now we could be… lost in translation.”
“Bill Murray’s here? Oh, I always love his movies,” Mary called out as she looked for him.
“He didn’t go to school with us, so he won’t be in this story,” Missy reminded her.
In the back seat, Wendy looked over to Patrick. “So, what have you been up to since we were in school together?”
“You’re catching on quick,” Patrick said. “This isn’t the time for reminiscing, though.”
“Are you still with that one girl?” Wendy asked.
“Oh, no… I’m in love with Stacey’s mom.”
Missy spun around in her chair. “Who?”
“Stacey’s mom,” Patrick replied. “She’s got it going on.” He pulled out his cell phone. “Stacey, can I come over after school.”
“After school,” Gary said.
“We can hang around by the pool,” Patrick said.
“No,” Missy cut in. “We already did the musical chapter.”
“What?” Patrick asked. “But I’m not the little boy that I used to be. I’m all grown up and…”
“I said ‘No’ Patrick,” Missy snapped.
“But do you remember when I mowed her lawn?”
“Stop!” Missy yelled. “I will turn this story around right now.”
“But I’m in love with Stacey’s mom…”
“She won’t let us have any more musical chapters,” Mary said.
“But Stacey’s mom has got it going on…”
“Patrick, if another word about Stacey’s mom leaves your lips, I will do something drastic.”
“I should have just sat out there on the hood of the truck, looking up,” Patrick replied.
“No watching airplanes, either!” Missy yelled.
“I wonder what you’d do if you looked out your window, and saw me running down that runway just like I was crazy,” Patrick muttered.
“The fence is too high,” Missy told him.
“So am I,” Patrick added.
“Stop dragging me into this!” Missy yelled as she covered her ears.
“He gets to watch airplanes and I can’t not do that?” Mary asked. “That’s so unfair, Missy.”
“He’s about to end up riding on the roof, which is very dangerous with all the falling pianos,” Missy threatened. “It did give me a good idea, though.”
“What?” Mary asked.
“We need to look at these murders from a different angle.”
Mary hit the curb, which sent half the car up in the air, and they drove with two wheels off the ground. Everyone slid to the left side of the car.
“Not like this,” Missy said.
“Oh, sorry,” Mary replied. “I thought I would help out.”
She turned the wheel sharply and the right side of the car slammed back to the ground.
Missy slammed her hands on the dashboard. “Stop here!”
Mary slammed on the breaks. The breaks began to complain and she had to scold them. Missy leapt out of the car and ran over to Joelle.
“I need a paper,” Missy told her.
“Oh…” Joelle looked around. “Look over there for a second.”
Missy turned away, and then looked back. Joelle was dressed as a newsboy now. She held a stack of papers. Missy bought a paper from her. The headlines read, ‘Governor summons Missy Wilkinson, PI back to the capital building.’
“Thanks, Joelle,” Missy told her as she returned to the car. “We need to go see Governor Dolen.”
“That’s not a good sign,” Mary said. “She’s not going to cut off funding for us, is she?”
Missy handed the paper back to Gary. “I think she has a clue we need.” She handed back the change from the paper.
Wendy looked at the change and began screaming.
Everyone jumped out of the car as Wendy was screaming.
“What’s wrong?” Patrick asked. “Why is she screaming?”
“We don’t know,” Mary replied. “There’s something wrong. Didn’t you notice the straight jacket she’s wearing?”
“I thought that was normal for people that hang out with Missy on a regular basis. I know I used to own a couple in different shades of off white,” Patrick said. “Wait… I know what’s going on.”
Patrick reached into the car and picked up the change from the seat. As he removed it, Wendy calmed down.
“She recently saved a lot of money on her car insurance, didn’t she,” Patrick said.
“Yes,” Missy nodded. “Why?”
Patrick held the change up, and Wendy began screaming again.
“This woman’s been scarred for life,” he explained. “She didn’t get the cute little lizard talking to her. She was stalked by cash with large eyes…”
“Oh no,” Missy called out. “I had no idea.”
“Poor Wendy,” Mary gasped.
“We need to get her to help,” Patrick said. “I don’t think any of us are qualified to treat a traumatic event like this.”
“It’s almost as bad as that time when we drove past Bunnell, Florida, Missy,” Mary said.
“Oh, I remember that,” Missy said. “Did you read her blog, Patrick?”
“The Rusty Cat, right?” Patrick asked. “I missed the Bunnell, Florida, though.”
“If you give me a funfetti cake, I’ll tell you about it,” Mary told him.
“I’m kind of out of funfetti cakes,” Patrick said.
“Oh, dear God.” Gary reached into his pocket. “Do I have to pay for everything?” He pulled out a funfetti cake and handed it to Mary.
“Well,” Mary started, “as you know, I am a slayer. I have been for a millennium. At one time I was in a labyrinth of caves near Bunnell, Florida. The caves were infested with mummies. I was dispatched to vanquish them.”
“I was driving her, since her car had destroyed by a series of unfortunate keyboard bombardings,” Missy told them.
“And Brendan Fraser was there, too,” Mary explained.
“The actor?” Gary asked. “Why was HE there?”
“He’s in all the mummy stories these days,” Mary replied. “Anyway, I wasn’t particularly keen on the idea of him coming along.”
“We had worked with celebrities before,” Missy told them.
“It always turns out badly and the celebrity ends up crying in a corner somewhere,” Mary continued. “I allowed him to come. I figured he could always help me relax after the battle.”
“He is very cute,” Wendy said, poking her head out the car window.
“Needless to say, one look at the massive army of mummies, and Fraser freaked. He was such a tool. I was trying to salvage the mission and destroy all the evil mummies and those wrapped cats that they always seem to have with them. He was all ‘I’m scared!’ and ‘There’s mummies in there!’ and stuff like that. At one point, he almost shot me with a crossbow. I turned to him and said, ‘Oh no you di’n’t just shoot at me!’ He was upset so I made him go wait in the car and Missy and I finished off the mummies.”
“It was horrible,” Missy told them.
“I didn’t even get any relaxation,” Mary added. “It was the worst mummy adventure of my life.”
Gary and Patrick paused.
“That didn’t really happen,” Gary said.
“Why do you say that?” Mary asked.
“It’s too weird… even for this story,” Gary replied.
“Whatever! The next time you’re confronting an army of mummies, don’t expect me to save you,” Mary told him.
South of them, a woman was wrapped in bandages and taking out her garbage. The killer jumped out of the bushes.
“Bad skin day!” he shouted, shooting her twice.
She threw up her garbage cans and fell to the ground. “It’s… a skin wrap to help me lose weight,” she called out as she passed away.
“Oh no,” Missy said as they drove along. “I think there’s been another murder.”
“Luckily this time it happened next to the capital building,” Patrick told them as he read it in the newspaper. “We can stop there on the way to see Governor Dolen.”
Dec. 12th, 2009
10:43 pm - PG slash - Adapt or Die - Alan/Billy JP3
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Dec. 11th, 2009
01:32 pm - PG slash - Outstanding - BvsP/TC Emmett/Brendan Dean
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10:12 am - McShep Awards....
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