Hello everyone, everywhere,

This week I have once again been “set right”. Apparently all my ways are not the right ways. I’ll have to learn to live with that, I guess. My goal is to play the drums. That was my only goal in this experiment. I will try to continue to do that the best I can. If needed. That’s all I’ve got on that.

Michelle’s here today, so today is a great day. She’s going to a wedding with Dean. I think they’re getting married again, just to piss me off. How many times is she going to marry this guy to prove that she doesn’t fool around? Anyway, she’s the best, and I wouldn’t write a word of this without her. Or any of it. She’s my best friend. And that’s it.

And now it’s time to close your eyes and your thoughts, if only for a moment…and rest. May I present the next installment of…


The Case of Find the Doll – Part 2


And hang around she did. They agreed that Danny would call at 9 a.m. the next day. That call was actually returned promptly at 4:40 p.m. “Danny Spitz, Private Eye returning your call.”

The woman’s voice was gutsy, yet you could feel the ball of phlegm rolling around the back of her throat. “My name is Mrs. Frieda Hadmamal.”

“What can I do for you today, Miss Hadamalallal?”

“Again, sir, it’s Mrs. Frieda Hadmamal.”

“Oh, I do apologize.”

They arranged to meet the next morning.

“Now then, Velma, sit,” Danny said in his most practiced detective voice.

The woman seated herself, looked at Danny Spitz with fire in her eyes and said, “It’s Frieda, not Velma.”

“Of course it is. How can I help?”

Frieda leaned across the desk. Danny started to feel a chill. She smiled. He sat back.

“Mr.Spitz,” she hissed. “I want you to find my doll.”

“Madam,” Danny said. “Perhaps at your age, you might want to move on from playing with dolls to…have you tried bowling?”

Frieda recoiled and said, “Listen, you little twerp. I am a collector! That doll is worth $500,000. It was stolen from my shop two days ago. I want it back. I received a ransom call last night. They say they want $150,000 or  I’ll never see the doll again. Won’t you help me Mr. Spitzzzzzzz.” (Yikes!)

Danny composed himself and said, “Will I and can I? There’re two things to think over.”

“What the hell does that mean,” Frieda asked?

“Oh, just thinking out loud. For sure Madam, I will take your money…uh…your case,” Danny replied. “What did the guy tell you to do?”

Frieda poised herself and said, “I will pay you $5,000 to bring Dolly home.”

“Lady, for that much lettuce, I’ll bring home a dolly for myself. Get it?”

“No!” Frieda Hadmamal said. “Anyway, they said they would call in the next few days with more instructions.”

“No more worrying now, Mrs. Hatatall or Hodfifall or…you know your name. Danny Spitz is on the case. I’ll have one of my best people on this immediately.”

Danny called Glenda on the intercom.

“Yes, Mr. Spitz. How may I direct your call?”

“Uh, Glenda, have Mr. Luckless report to me right away,” Danny said.


Danny looked at Frieda, smiled, and said to Glenda. “You know, Mr. Luckless. My top man.”

“It’s ringing bells, but…,” Glenda started to say.

Danny banged the intercom button and said, “Glenda! Your husband, Lester Luckless.”

“Oh!” Glenda giggled back. “Oh yeah! Right away, boss!”

Ten minutes later, Lester Luckless showed up. Danny said to him, “I want you to take your car to this address and sit on it.”

“Sit on it boss? You’re throwing me a little,” Lester said.

Danny shook his head and said, “Lester, just watch the house. See who comes and goes.”

“So, do you want to know everything, or only what I think is important?” Lester asked.

Danny looked at the shoes he bought from the Big Melcap thing. “Lester,” he said.  “Everything. Tell me everything.”

At that point, Danny felt he might–and that’s a mighty small might–but he might have to call his nephew. This kid had an ego bigger than a full can of Spam. He called himself The One and Only. (His words, not Danny’s). He was Dick Curtain. Junior PI.

Danny’s last good thought of the day was, well, what could go wrong?


By jamesghutcheson

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