What's Going On Here?

The noir adventures of Franklin and Turner, two former English Majors who teamed up to pool their knowledge of TV crime dramas to solve Boston's toughest cases.

How Did this Happen?: About this Blog
Current Case: #002 The Fuschia Falcon


Am Not Wearing Cologne, Dammit!

I climbed out of the shower the next morning, washing away the fitful few hours of sleep while something about the case didn't sit right. Kept thinking to myself "were Franklin here, I'd be really freaked out; my bed's for chippies and chicks only. Also, what the hell am I going to tell the client? Have to wonder what's with this chocolate? Seemed to be a theme developing." That was perhaps a question to ask her at Licks'. Before leaving, I dressed and shaved, even checked that I'd have enough petty cash for a business expense like a pair of mid-morning milkshakes from the ice cream joint.

I pulled up a chair at the outside tables and waited for the skirt to arrive. She was late, as dames tend to be (and I've been slapped enough to learn that ya don't comment on this aloud). I couldn't help but stare at her legs as she walked over, and dropped her numerous bags beside the table, standing impatiently over me.
Casually, I prompted some conversation: "Been shopping?"
"Just a few things," the curt response, "You said you'd have something for me?"
"Uh, yeah. Drink?"
There was rising frustration in her tone. "That's all you have for me?"
"No, uh. The chocolate. Turns out it's a calling card. Some frog art thief or something. Calls himself, uh, the Sommelier."
She seemed relieved and sat down, pulling out a 100 Grand bar. She unwrapped it and started to chew.
Watched her for a second before she glowered at me. "Well?"
"Yeah, uh," I channeled every single one of Mrs. Thomson's Drama classes in the 3rd grade. "Well, turns out this guy is changing his MO a little. Instead of sticking to high class art, he's moving over to jewels. Story goes he was trained in a Ninjutsu monastery, uses his Kung-fu to break into a place and bust past security. Leaves half a chocolate bar as a consolation prize."
The bim was eating this up; so I left it at "And I'll find the bastard."

She rose, lifting the last bites of her candy bar over the table. "Want this?"
"Nah, I'm good."
It hovered over a glass in the middle of the table before she dropped it, "well, I'll leave it there in case you change your mind. So ants don't get in."
Suddenly, something snapped into place in my head. I had an announcement, and I felt like I needed everyone to be there.
"Gather your entire household in the trophy room tonight. How many people is that?"
"Me and my husband. The maid sometimes, but it's her day off."
"Get her, get some friends to join us in the accusing parlor!"
Despite her blank stare, I pulled my coat on and dashed back to the office.


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