patricktkent

Sitting in the back corner of this dive drowning my thoughts in half a dozen cupcakes, a thousand questions run through my head with only one answer:  enjoy these cupcakes while you can.

Whodunit?  And whydunit?  And wheredunit?  I already knew one of the answers, because I was there and I saw it with my own eyes, about the other two I didn’t know but I was about to find out, Ricky would know, that two bit snitch heard everything, and I knew just where to find him.  Dave and Busters in many ways is the perfect protection for a snitch like Ricky, too many lights, and kids, and mini-pizza’s for anyone to try anything stupid.  And there he was in the classic arcade game section sipping on his Super Big Gulp playing Bubble Bobble, looking all….snitchy.  I would have to do this fast, so I slinked up behind him, smashed his head into the Bubble Bobble game spilling his Super Big Gulp accross his lap.

“It’s time for answers Ricky, and don’t tell me ya don’t got any because I am ITCHING to beat them out of your face!.”

“I don’t got any!”

“What did I just say?!  Now, who had it in for Chalk, and why?”  My one hand tightened around his neck while my other hand pondered crushing his balls, not yet my brain told my other hand.

“No one was after Chalk, I sw”

“Chalks dead bitch, it aint no mystery.”

“They…were…after….you.”

That last part hit me like a long piece of rebar to the kisser, me?  That could only mean one person, and that meant war, and by the transitive property that meant a lot of people were going to die.

“Thanks Ricky, now beat it.”

I flipped Ricky two bits for his trouble, and in a daze walked straight into a crowd of suburban Jr. High punks who called me names, but I wasn’t listening.  If what Ricky said was true then it could only mean one person, and if that was true this meant war, and by the transitive property that meant there were going to be a lot of dead bodies soon.  And very soon.  WOOSH!

It’s too quiet.  And dark.  My name is Detective McArooatew and this is what I do; I listen, and feel, and watch.  Like a hawk or an Osprey or something.  Chalk was trapped in that warehouse and I knew it.  I knew Chalk was a dead man, well, woman, whatever.  Chalk was too pretty to die, and I loved her and I never told her and I didn’t even know her last name, or if her first name was her real name or a nickname.  And thats when things started to happen fast.

First a text, then a car starts, and Whump cocks her head.

They say pugs don’t make good crime dogs and they’re right, but here she is and she aint going nowhere, I got another dog on my hip that says so…It’s a gun.

Hunkering down I glance left then right, “Cover me Whump.  Stay.  Staaaay.  Sit.  Good girl.  Now stay.”

And now its time for action, for Chalk…for love.  I’m her only chance, so carefully, and quietlly, and deliberately, and quietly I creep.  Behind this pile of trash, under that car, back behind the pile of trash.  Carefully making my way to the warehouse preparing to unleash my hounds.  My bullet hounds that is.  It’s fightin’ time, and I knows, it and I love it.  I can feel it in my bones.

BOOM

“Fuck”

Illuminated by the explosion, even a dumb man could read the look on my face.  “C’mon girl.  come.  WHUMP come.”  This just got personal, and whoever is behind the attack, whoever is sitting in that car, whoever wanted Chalk dead…is a real dickweed.

After some days to separate myself from the situation I have decided that Five Guys, is good not great.  It isn’t something where I would go out of my way just to get, but it is a good burger and fries.