She leaned over my desk, her ample bosom heaving. The dame was obviously hot for me. Too bad I was only into other men... coulda been fun.
"Oh, you've just gawt ta help me and my muddah's aunt's roommate's grandottah's husband's cousin's dawg's groomah's brush suppliah's accountant's mistress' bruddah's son PLEASE mistah Dirkenhammerwoodsteinovitch," her accent breathed impressively -- seriously, that's impressive to say all in one breath.
by Edeyn Hannah Blackeney
... I blame the painkillers...
Name's Peabody Aloysius Dirkenhammerwoodsteinovitch. I go by Al -- wouldn't you? I'm a private dick in a town that just seems to need guys like me. Fed up with pretty much everything. Dealt a hand by life make's a body want to just fold... but you can't fold in life. It's like there's too much starch. But I got all the skills I need in this line. I'm a snoop. I don't mind ticking off the boys in blue. I can sleep in my office chair and not mind the rumpled trenchcoat or loose tie. And I can mix a metaphor so wrong your apple pie cries wee-wee-wee all the way to the bank.
So, I had my clodhoppers up on the desk and my fedora down over my nose when I heard the click-click-click of high heels in the hall. Mine is the only office on this floor so I sat up and then leaned back to ease my feet to the floor. I was catching my breath from the exertion when the door swung open.
I've gotta get that doorknob catch fixed.
A moment later, the chick attached to the legs wearing the heels that were clicking timidly stepped around the corner and pegged me with her eyes. She had on a dress with more slink than that springy kid toy thingamacallit. Oh yeah. A Slinky. Perfectly styled dark auburn hair and bright blue eyes -- probably contacts, nobody has eyes that colour. She had a face like an angel. Or at least what the religious outfits tell us an angel's face looks like.
"Are you mistah Dirkenhammerwoodsteinovitch the pee eye what knows whats he knows?"
Too bad she had a voice that sounded like a hoarse gorilla mimicking a frog. Where the heck was that accent from?
She walked over to my desk in way too many tiny steps -- I think her skirt must have been too tight. She leaned over my desk, her ample bosom heaving. The dame was obviously hot for me. Too bad I was only into other men... coulda been fun.
"Oh, you've just gawt ta help me and my muddah's aunt's roommate's granddottah's husband's cousin's dawg's groomah's brush suppliah's accountant's mistress' bruddah's son PLEASE mistah Dirkenhammerwoodsteinovitch," her accent breathed impressively -- seriously, that's impressive to say all in one breath.
"Help with what, uh--?"
"You can calls me Bella, and you've gawtta help me and Marlene!"
Marlene seemed to me to be an awfully strange name for the dame's mother's aunt's roommate's granddaughter's husband's cousin's dog's groomer's brush supplier's accountant's mistress' brother's son -- sheesh she's already gawt -- er -- got me doing it.
"Okay, Miss Bella --"
"Oh, it's not Miss..." she corrected me, the way a tomato corrects a naked hamburger. She turned about as red as a tomato, too. It didn't suit her, though.
"Ms.--?" I let out hopefully.
"Sorry, mistah Dirkenhamm--"
"Just call me Al, s'easier," I told her, trying to buy some time on the cheap. Two things are never cheap though... good whiskey and time when you truly need it.
"Okay, Alseazyer," her accent breathed again, "I happen to be bonuh fee-day one hunnert percentagees midwest American boy. An' so's Marlene!"
It clicked. I knew why the dame was here in my office and blocking my airflow. Yes, dame. If you'd lay your peepers on her melons, you'd know she was a she even if she was a he dressed very convincingly like a she that wasn't no he pretending to be a he and was in fact a she instead of being a he like she claimed she was really a he just looking like a she. I don't know why she brought 'em with her, but they were about the same size as the breasts attached quite convincingly (for a she that was really a he that looked like a she) to her chest wall. She and this Marlene were being forced to be chippies!
"I really do prefuh to be called suh..."
"Sir then. Is your mother's aunt's roommate's granddaughter's husband's cousin's dog's groomer's brush supplier's accountant's mistress' brother's son -- there has to be a better way to say that -- being held prisoner?"
I could see the cash rolling in on this job... a daring overtime breakout taking special equipment purchased with a finder's fee and bought with a discount... maybe she could hold off until the weekend and Thanksgiving for holiday pay --
"No, he's -- that is my nephew is -- nawt being held prisonah."
"Your nephew? But why --?
"It's moah fun, Alseazyer, to say it th' long way," she giggled and... bounced at me.
"Then how are you being forced--?" I broke off. I was sitting forward, listening with more ears than a cartoon elephant's pet mouse, it was interesting in spite of me.
"Whoevah said innything about forced?"
I opened my mouth and shut it again.
"Well, I'll take the job, just tell me what I have to do," I finally said, shaking my head as I reached to shake the hand of the dizzy dame.
She grabbed my hand and pumped it for water, and sealed the deal... I'd always prided myself on my word and a handshake being a contract for me.
"Oh, goody! We just gotta get you in the right dress--"
"Say what how who now?"
"What how who now?"
"No, Bella, I mean what do you mean me in a dress?"
"Oh!" her eyes lit up, "You'll be gawjeous! I had hoped when I saw th' ad fer another Professional Impersonatah, you'd be pretty..."
So the she who was a he that only looked to be a she that wasn't no he but a she seemed to have all the wiles of a she that was really a she and not a she that was really a he that just looked like a she that wasn't no he but a she. And I looked down at my hand still shaking hers.
Me and my big mouth.
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