[dreams]

PART FOUR to this point

Spoiler:

<<<mysterious blond bimbo leaning over passed out detective and slapping his face to wake him up>>>

Next thing I know is that the Dame is leaning over me and having a conversation with someone about ZCD's and not giving them to people who can't handle temporal space time somethings.

"What? Huh?", I manage to say.

I manage to sit up and realize that I am still in my office with the Dame and the ape.

"What the ?", I say, as I put my hand to my head.

"Silly boy" she crooned to me. "Can't hold your liquor eh?"

'Gosh', I thought, 'the twists and turns of modern life. Who would have thought it....'

Something had been bothering me about the ape, bothering me since I first laid my peepers on him. It finally came to me; his fur looked 'odd', as if it was made of something other than ape hair.

It had that look you see with squirrel coats. I began to observe the big lug more closely.

His eyes were blue, too blue, the kind of blue you only see in movies, and they stared right into your soul. He also had a gait that could only be described as a 'pimp roll', and I was afraid.

The ape eyed me eyeing him and eyed me back, in spades. It was a look that could turn your bowels to water in an instant.

Try as I might, I could not take my eyes of him. But then there was another flash, and the clown and the dame rushed out - hand in hand, leaving me and the "ape".

I ducked under the ape's arm and ran after the dame. The clown had hung behind and tripped me as I ran into the street!

Sprawling, I hit the ground hard. Immediately I felt a huge weight leap onto my back.

A taxi door was open. The dame rushed in and sat down.

Laughing manically, she slammed the taxi door shut with a deafening thud. The taxi's cloud of exhaust, further polluting the already rank city smell, was the last thing I saw before the lights went out.

Remembering the, several, reminder and over due notices I'd received from the power company did nothing to lighten my mood. Nor the oppressive weight on my back that smelled faintly of gin.

Through a combination of wriggling and porpoising, I managed to free myself from the juniper bush that I had inexplicably been trapped under. Tentatively rising to my feet, I saw the dame's taxi disappear around the corner at the end of the street.

I stumbled back into the gin joint, looking for the clown and ape; as I expected, they had flown the coop. Glancing down the well-worn bar, I glimpsed a dame who looked suspiciously like blondie, with the exception of her startling flaming-red hair.

I began to wonder if life was playing one of her amazing tricks on my mind and senses. It did not help my sanity that the red-head was gently stroking a mangy looking cur ....

I heard a strange, staccato rapping noise coming from the darkest corner of the bar. Shambling over and peering into the darkness, there it was; a drunken roll of wrapping paper, huddled next to a slightly less drunk ape!

I really did start to question my sanity; and there it was, rolling about on the floor in full view.
"Hallucinationary drinks have this effect," she said, "here, have a glass of fresh untainted water, whilst I get myself sorted and then you can start taking notes on the case I have in mind for you."

I slipped into the comfortable leather chair and drank the proffered water. As I sat there gazing at blondie, I wondered when she began speaking with a slight British accent, and what that little observation might mean.

"Now, my dear fellow," she said, "what is your understanding of how the World works when in a mysterious frame of reference? I have a proposition to place before you; but first, are you licenced to pilot a ship into Outer Space?"

I shook my head again, and tried another sip of water. Too late, I noticed the tell-tale aftertaste on my tongue!

Damn Cherry Cola! Don't they ever wash the glasses in this dive?

"What sort of a ship?" I asked. Whilst awaiting her answer, I thought back to my last trip to 'Outer Space."

It was a ride at Disney World, and I remember crashing into the moon. This job didn't promise to turn out any better, but at least I was being paid.

"Outer Space", I asked. "What the hell do you mean, Outer Space?".

"And another thing", I croaked, as blondie crossed her legs in the chair across from me. "Who are you and why did you really hire me?"

"For a big-time private dick, you sure don't catch on very fast, do you?" blondie replied. "Take a good long look at my face..." she cooed.

I looked deep into those baby blues and felt my knee caps begin to melt. Then I dropped my eyes to her lips and my blood froze.

"Now here's a dame that needs a good rogering!", I remember thinking, "And I'm just the man to do it!" Reaching out, I held her face in my hands.

She murmured, "I didn't know your name was roger." "Please let go of my earrings roger."

"Erm, Ahem, I, I, Um, right," I stuttered, as I sat back in my chair. "Back to business, Who are you and why did you really hire me?"

Curiously, she ignored the question about her identity. "I hired you because I heard you were the best dick in LA." she said.

"Well, THAT got my attention!" Then I realized what she really meant, crossed my legs, and tried to look professional again.

While trying to avoid staring at her ample cleavage, I asked "What exactly DID you hire me for?" Giving up and starting directly at her cleavage, I awaited her answer.

Unfortunately, staring at that cleavage had had a mesmerising effect on me; when no answer was forthcoming I blurted out, "Those are amazing breasts, could I weigh them?". Taking her shocked silence as acquiescence, I grabbed one in each hand and jiggled away, shouting "WAAAAY".

Which soon developed into a scream as she returned the favour by grabbing both my testicles with one hand and giving a short, sudden twist. "If you wanna get your hands on some knockers," she whispered into my ear, "then become a Jehovas Witness, buddy!"

I jerked and slapped myself on the side of the head, to clear that wishful thought and resulting scenario from my head.

I decided to get up and add something a bit stronger to the water in my glass, to clear my head.

Fortifying Tallisker and water in hand I took a deep breath to clear my head and said, "Sorry doll, let's start again, eh?". "OK", she replied, "But no more funny business".

"I wasn't laughing, if you noticed" I replied. "OK - what's the score?"

"2 to 1", she said. "But the game is not over."

"The balls are in your court", I said. "You call the shots .... as long as your money is good and legal; well, at least partly legal, and I don't do drugs - no way lady...."

Eyeing me with what I can only describe as 'significant indifference', she seemed to be trying to make a decision. As I soon found out, that decision would eventually change the course of my life.

It had something to do with the vuvuzela she pulled out from her purse. "OK, smart boy," she purred, "Let's talk about winners now!"

<"Cut! Cut! Are you guys crazy? Has anyone checked what the writers are drinking when they write this stuff?"

"Someone already tried to dye my hair red for one scene. But, a Vuvuzela! How am I suppose to pull a vuvuzela out of the purse that matches this outfit?"

"That's it! I want a clause in my contract that says the writers stay away from any drink that begins with a 'Z'. "

"What?" Oh, yeah, you can add that too. I'll wear a wig, but no dye jobs."

"Ok, I'm ready to reshoot that last scene with just a little correction I wrote in.">

Originally Posted by poohbear_nc

It had something to do with the vuvuzela .38 she pulled out from her purse. "OK, smart boy," she purred, "Let's talk about winners now!"