mirror of https://github.com/nealey/Horrors2
74 lines
3.5 KiB
TeX
74 lines
3.5 KiB
TeX
\chapauth{Tufty}
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\chapter[Dames, they're all the Same]{Dames, they're all the Same: a Luke Bavarious detective story inspired by the works of Ben Biddick}
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I'm a private detective. Luke Bavarious is my name. Bavarious by
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name, Bavarious by nature. I own this city. The feds think they've
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got this place locked up tight, but the criminal scum of the
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underworld run rampant through the darkened streets committing
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crimes and vandalism. This is where I come in. My name is Luke
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Bavarious, and I'm a private detective.
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I'm a man with nothing to live for and nothing to lose, and there's
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only two things in my life that I wouldn't want to lose, and
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they're both Berettas. One is a gun, and I keep it locked and
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loaded in my desk drawer, and the other is my sexy secretary, Gina
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Beretta. An Italian seductress packing a big chest, tiny waist, and
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a loaded gun. There's nothing sexier than a woman with a gun.
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The phone on my desk rings, I pick it up. It's Gina. ``There's
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someone here to see you.'' says Gina. ``Send them in.'' I reply. Into
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my room walks the most gorgeous dame I've ever seen in my life. I'm
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talking beautiful - tall, brunette, and an ass like a couple of
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melons. Says she has a job for me - the big one, my ticket out of
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this hell hole they call a city. She tells me that a couple of big
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time crooks are planning a heist on the New York City Bank, and she
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wants me to stop them. ``But how do you know this, and why are you
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telling me?'' I ask. ``One of those jerks is my ex-boyfriend, and the
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idiot left the bank's blueprints and a copy of their plan at my
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place before he dumped me.'' ``Hmmm{\ldots} that does sound stupid. I'll
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take the job.''
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Fast forward to a week later and I'm waiting outside the New York
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City Bank. According to the plans, the crooks should be here any
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minute. I lean against a street light and light up a smoke, the
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wispy trail of smoke rises into the cool night air. I hear a click
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like the sound of a cockroach being squashed, and I feel a cold,
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hard object poke against my back. ``Don't move, Bavarious'' says a
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rough voice filled with pure and utter hatred. The dame set me up!
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I knew I never should have trusted her, dames are all the same.
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With the lightning-quick speed of a cobra I kick my leg backwards
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and send the gun flying out of my assailant's hand. It lands on the
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road before skidding down a drain into the sewers. Before my
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attacker could even react I've drawn my gun and spun around.
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Suddenly, with shock and disbelief I see that the face of my
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attacker is actually that of the dame who hired me for this job!
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She must have been changing her voice to fool me. She looks
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different this time, her eyes are as red as freshly spilt blood and
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her skin has a greyish twinge, like a freshly embalmed corpse. ``Why
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did you try to set me up?'' I ask her, pressing the gun into her
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chest. ``Because{\ldots}'' I press the gun harder into her chest,
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impatient for an answer. ``Because, Luke{\ldots} I am your sister.'' My
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head reels as my world comes crashing down around me. My sister? I
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have a sister? I think back to my childhood and don't remember
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having a sister. Thinking of his troubled past and childhood caused
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Bavarious to vomit. He did not like to think about his past. As the
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vomit pooled on the floor, he could see the reflection of the dame,
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his supposed sister, in the slick surface of the pool of vomit. The
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sight of her like that brought it all back to me, but in my
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distracted state, the dame gives me her best right hook right in my
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jaw, and the world turns black{\ldots}
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