11 (edited by Ella Kremper 2009-01-08 20:48)

Re: Farewell, My Lovely Maltese Falcon's Big Sleep - a detective parody

Unless she'd completely forgotten that her beau had jumped ship earlier, which is why she'd decided to toddle her dainty legs over to my place - and they were a very nice pair of legs - Dita Le Vamp hadn't told me the entire story.

The last job I was on, I got an armful of lead shot and a mouthful of strawberries and cream out of it - it did all end in an ice cream parlour at the end of the day. And hell, the bourbon here wasn't exactly palatable. It was like licking the backside of my grandma's school desk and vomiting the contents all over a cattle shed's floor.

"Is there a problem?" a new voice called out from behind me. It was female, but deep and sultry in texture. If I wasn't on the job, it'd be the sort of voice you'd find tucked discreetly between certain pages of a women's clothing catalogue.

"Yeah. The bourbon. It stinks," I replied, holding out the glass. "Got any diesel? It'd taste like diamonds compared to this."

Sorry, left the Falcon in the Bentley. Right now, you answer to my Ronson T-T.

All hail Kremperpunk.

Re: Farewell, My Lovely Maltese Falcon's Big Sleep - a detective parody

(Trying to kickstart this back into action!)

"Honey, the only thing that stinks in this joint are your cheap clothes. Did you snatch them off some bum outside the back door?"

Naturally, I wasn't going to be pushed around by some flash broad who was trying to distract me from Dita Le Vamp's huge range - hell, she had an enormous range - so I took a cigar out of my jacket pocket, struck a match and coolly lit the end.

"Well, that's just swell, but I'm watching the little lady on stage. If you ain't here to switch liquors with me, beat it. I don't do small talk."

"Fine. I'll just tell Deadfish that his invitation was turned down. Oh, and that there's been a complaint about his liquor. He's always happy to hear opinions on his establishment, honey. Snap you later."

My head turned at this, but I was too late. All I saw was a flash of jet black silk and a quick rustling of high heels. Deadfish Donegan, huh?

Sorry, left the Falcon in the Bentley. Right now, you answer to my Ronson T-T.

All hail Kremperpunk.

Re: Farewell, My Lovely Maltese Falcon's Big Sleep - a detective parody

(Brought back from its large snooze)

After she vanished into the gloom. I ordered a drink, this time a large Whiskey & Rye it took some time to arrive. "So what took you so long Dollface?" I ask. "We had to get some bread first, chump" adding as She slammed a bowl onto the table "theres your whiskey & Rye...Mac". I pay her and I'm now left wondering how I'm going to drink this, in the end I just push it foreward. About 5 minutes later, a drunk knocks my cigar out of hand and my head falls down into my whiskey & rye, the last thing I remember is that it tastes swell...Coming around I find myself in room with Dogfish in a Shakepearian outfit. I rub the back the of my head and it feels wet & sticky, yup I've been slugged

"Is this a dagger I see before me?"a voice askes. "Nope its a Dick, a Private Dick. I reply" I must admit that earned me another slug.

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Please, just call me Wells.