Dick Bullet – Private Dick

I got a call from this broad come August. Can’t complain because I can’t choose my clients. Said she got a case of the usual, good for nuthin’ hubby making excuses on where he kept going at night.

I’m Dick Bullet, private eye, got a cheating wife/husband and/or business partner then I’m the sap who sits outside of their house for days, hoping to snap up the incriminating evidence.

This Mrs Mallory may have been a goddess of the silver screen forty years ago, but Old Father Time is a mean old man and chips away at anybody’s good looks. Where she was once stunning with eyes sharp enough to pierce diamonds and legs slender than a snake, practically death and sex wrapped in one tight glove, now she was like a dried raisin, those dark eyes had gone greyer than a rain cloud, her hair was whiter than the north pole and her skin sagged worse than a mattress left out in a forest.

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Family Sacrifices

My stepfather, Sid, often talked about his sacrifices. He said it was about the three of us, carefully including Myles. But it wasn’t. It was about Eleanor and me. We were his entry passes to our mother’s orbit. She came as a package: long legs, blonde hair, and two kids, which was ideal for an insurance salesman. It gave him a ready-made family, including a trophy wife and two kids—the perfect image. But he resented us.

We rented a two-bedroom terrace, where the mice skittered across the pans when someone turned on the kitchen light, and a broken window remained unaddressed for the entire time we lived there. Five doors down was a house where men visited at irregular hours. I had an idea of what went on behind those shuttered windows, and I’m pretty sure Sid did too.

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Well, that’s one answer, I guess

Steve sat back with a hearty sigh.

“I,” he said, “don’t have an answer. Don’t have any inspiration either. The series is finished. This was a guaranteed BAFTA winner; the camerawork’s exquisite, for once the animals mostly behaved, the narration… well, I don’t need to add anything there, the man’s a legend. There’s just that one little problem, and I…”

“I know,” Jennifer interrupted. “This isn’t a disaster quite yet, but it’s close. So, what are you going to do? I mean, we can’t have titles with no music, let alone that footage… which you’re right, is beautiful, and kudos to the team for it… but you’ve got some budget left, yeah?”

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Jules and Harvey

“Hey Harv!” a voice boomed as a foot kicked the front door “I’ve got a hog sized keg! You got a few mugs?!”

Harvey groaned, knowing that yes, tonight was the night.

His better half was visiting her mother, taking with her their two little ones. Weekends like these, Harvey got some quiet “me time” which usually meant falling asleep on the sofa. Good enough for him, but since he had mentioned the free weekend to his old college buddy Jules, the man had insisted on coming over.

“Hello Jules,” Harvey thinly smiled as he answered the front door.

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