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#1
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Another Never-Ending Story
It's been a while since we did this.
So, this time, here's the rules: 1. Add to the story by writing whatever you want, just so it fits -- sorta-kinda, anyway. 2. You may not write more than three sentences, nor less than two. I'll begin: As I stood in the dark, a shot rang out. I knew it had to be from a large-caliber gun, just from the impact on my ears. And I figured it came from the upstairs apartment... |
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#2
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I never liked the people upstairs. They were always too noisy and maybe this will quiet things down. I knew I had to do something so I went to look for a light bulb so I wouldn't be in the dark anymore.
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"I am Spongebob Squarepants, destroyer of EVIL" |
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#3
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Of course, a private detective has to spend a lot of his life in the dark, so to speak. That's what gives us job security -- not knowing what happened, but being ready, willing and able to research the situation. At this point, I'd been a private eye for 20 years.
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#4
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I was reminded of what my dear old dad told me on his deathbed just a few years before he died:
"A Private Eye in the Public Eye gets punched in the Eye."
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His movements could be called catlike, exept that he did not stop to spray urine up against things. ~Terry Pratchett, Night Watch |
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#5
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I began to wonder if dear old dad was psychic, as I opened the closet to a punch in the eye. Thankfully, my years of experience taught me to hit back instead of scream.
__________________
"I can tell you a story, an ancient legend among my people. It’s about an angry warrior who lived his life in conflict with the rest of his tribe, a man who couldn't find peace even with the help of his spirit guide." |
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#6
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I was taken aback, then, when the recipient of my well-landed punch let out a high-pitched scream. "Oh, what will my father think?" I wondered to myself. I'd never hit a woman before.
__________________
The urge to save humanity is almost always a false front for the urge to rule. --H.L. Mencken |
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#7
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And if she hadn't been standing there in my closet, I probably wouldn't have hit her.
But what a woman she was! Long black hair, eyes so black and deep that you could drown in them, and legs all the way up to her extremely well-shaped butt. |
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#8
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"Did I give you a start", she asked rubbing her slightly bruised chin, "or is there something in this closet you don't want me to find? You have a heavy hand with the mothballs, by the way."
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#9
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"In my defense, you hit me first." I stepped aside to let the lady come out of the closet if she so wished.
__________________
"What He really hates is the shit that gets carried out in his name. Wars. Bigotry. Televangelism." |
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#10
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As it turned out, she was a closet freak. Just loved closets.
That's something you don't see everyday, even if you're The World's Greatest Private Eye. |
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#11
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"I used to work for The Container Store," she explained. "What can I say?"
"You can start by telling me what the hell you were doing in my closet," I replied smartly.
__________________
Now you can see people with purpose and passion truly live a different kind of life while others only make a living. People with purose and passion create a destiny full of impact, fulfillment, and making a difference." --Orison Swett Marden |
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#12
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"I was doing the macarena, if you must know", she replied. "The rats have the steps down, but your roaches couldn't dance their way out of a paper bag."
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#13
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To which I quickly replied, "Oh, a wise gal, eh? Listen, sweetheart, nobody likes a wise gal."
"Okay", she said, "actually, I was looking for my lost umbrella." |
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#14
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"You won't find any umbrellas in there," I retorted, "Umbrellas are for English nannies and comic book villians. I'm strictly a trenchcoat and Panam hat man."
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#15
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"But I know I left it someplace", she whined.
It was getting difficult for me to be patient with her, but then I remembered those legs, and gave her another chance. After all, the detective always gives the dame another chance, right? |
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#16
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So I told her, "Unless that's one of those golden umbrellas I heard about, you don't need it. You have me to protect you now."
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#17
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She looked back at me with a scornful look that said better than words that she wasn't easily impressed by chauvinistic displays of chivalry. "Not golden; more precious than mere gold", she said. "I bought it while in Malta, and it has certain...sentimental value to me."
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#18
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"Uh oh", I thought -- this babe might have been involved in the famous Maltese Falcon case. Of course, that would have made her incredibly old -- about a hundred -- and she sure didn't look it. Nor did those legs.
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#19
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"Finding things", I replied, "is what I do." I grabbed a fresh notebook from my desk and scrawled, "THE CASE OF THE MALTESE UMBRELLA", across the top of the first page. "Now, tell me, when and where did you first notice your umbrella was missing?"
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#20
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"Just this morning, when I walked outside and discovered it was raining. I looked everywhere, but no umbrella. So I came here, since I'd heard that you were quite adept at finding...things..."
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#21
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"Keep your mind on the case, keep your mind on the case," I kept telling myself. But it was no use.
__________________
If the representatives of the people betray their constituents, there is no recourse left but in the exertion of that original right of self-defense which is paramount to all positive forms of government. --Alexander Hamilton |
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#22
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She was quite a doll, and those legs kept crossing my mind. Especially, every time she crossed them.
It's hard, being The World's Greatest Private Detective. |
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#23
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And everytime she uncrossed those legs it got harder.
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#24
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Can you describe the umbrella? And would it also be of "sentimental value" to anyone else you can think of, Miss . . . um. . .
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#25
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Before she could answer, a police sergeant with his gun drawn barged through my front door. "What the Hell is wrong with you people!" he shouted, "Didn't you hear the gunshot upstairs?"
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