It was a hard life being a detective. Being a part of law enforcement meant you had to do things that ordinary folk couldn't even dream of, such as letting your wife do all the work around the house while your too busy mucking around trying to bust drug dealers; or watching TV. All we detectives get to dream of now is about catching murderers and convicting felons. Though, those long years were far behind me now. i happily could say that i have retired from being a detective. last week, the whole office had a party to send me off. And as tradition goes everyone bunched a bit of their own hard earned cash together and they got us a send off gift. That gift was two two-way tickets for a luxury cruise to some warm south pacific island, for my wife Elsa and me and the returning tickets. the gift was so thoughtful that it made me stop hating Captain Price and his smug asshole face, at least for a moment.
"Come on you Stuart, even at 60, you're not so old that you've lost your mind yet?" some one said, mockingly. It seemed as though my old age makes me think about things in third person all time, probably due to to many damn noir films. i looked back at the voice, it was Elsa. figures, its not like anyone else had that horrendous nagging voice.
"Coming Honey, i love you so." i said in a jolly manner, not wanting to concede my marriage before she died of natural causes. as long as she though i was happy she was at least less contrived. Marriage, worst decision ever.
As i mulled that though over in my head, we walked together walking toward the boarding ramp to the ship, a man dressed in a traditional red suit with a black hat was taking tickets two couples ahead of us. i rummaged though my coat to find the tickets so he wouldn't have to say those criminally annoying words. but before i could find my tickets the other two couples had already gotten theirs punched in and had boarded the ship.
"Tickets please" he said to me. i continued to search to no avail.
"Tickets please, sir" he said again. That pretentious scumbag, if only i had a gun and some cocaine on me i would have shot him dead on the spot, planted the drugs, and said he was resisting arrest. the thing i regret the most about being retired is not being able to whip out my gun and badge at any moment. you could get out of any situation with those two assets.
"Here i have them, Honey" Elsa said, she reached into her bag and two tickets appeared in her hand. she passed them to the boarding-goon. that bitch, she had them this whole time.
"I love you, what would i ever do without you" i said while she giggled and i plotted murder.
"here are your tickets sir, have a great trip." the man in red said handing back the now punched-in tickets.
"Oh i will, have a great day" i paused a moment to read his name of the employee pin, "Josh Weaver" making note of it in my mind so i could check the onboard records later and burn down his house at a later date.
"I've always been so scared of going on trips, but now that the kids are gone and you're retired. this was definitely the right time to finally start enjoying our life" Elsa said. At least someone would be enjoying this trip, two solid weeks of nothing but being around her i thought about. the thought almost made me shutter. there had better be a really big bar, or else i might not make it.
"It's going to be wonderful, don't worry nothing bad will happen, its just going to be you, me and a wonderful time." i said as i choked out the words.
“You are an inept captain” the captain’s brain said, but he didn’t spend much time listening to him. He was a damn good captain damn it, and damn anyone who said differently. Not only was the boat leaving the port, he didn’t even crash it on the way in. If he was a teacher, he would give himself at least a passing grade under No Child Left Behind. Modern Nautica Society Monthly even declared that he was “a…captain who should never…not…be in control of a boat”, and he took their advice to heart, he hadn’t left his boat in years. The Why Won’t You Love Me was the “boat…on the ocean” as Don’t Ever Go Near this Boat Annual called it, it could cut through water like butter through warmer butter. His boat was pretty damn good, etc. “Time to see my next customers!” Captain Reptilian said to no one in the room, but his brain heard it. A lot of time people would think that he was crazy, but he wasn’t crazy, he was just arguing with his brain, who would never agree with any of his awesome ideas, like that time he was going to add a sick battering ram to the boat. One day he would defeat his brain, but it was not this day. Today he had to “talk” to “clients” about how “safe” they were going to “be”, but words were just words, they held no meaning to Captain Reptilian, especially not after the incident…that day when that thing happened. He approached a overhanging balcony thing, which was on the surface of the boat, built in so people could make speeches, and there would be a time when the speechmaking ability of the captain would fail, but it was not this day. “Hello” Captain Reptilian said. “You are not going to die on this boat” The Captain still said “In fact, you are much more likely to die OFF this boat than ON this BOAT!” He learned in oratory class (5.99 with any other Phoenix Institute purchase) that one should emphasize words to inspire people. “So don’t worry, short of a gasline explosion, rabid cobras in the lower deck that failed to defeat with mice, rabid mice or slipping, you will not die on this boat”. “Hahaha” The captain thought to himself “if someone falls overboard or I crash, they won’t technically die ON the boat will they!” “If you sink the boat they will die on board” His brain said, but screw that guy. Just then someone was murderered, what up with that?
It was Sunday morning, and the moon was rising high in the sky like a golden cantaloupe with wings. One Joke Horse was down on his luck, pushin' daisies out the grave, and banking on a high straight in the rough diamonds. When he woke up, the Man was at his door.
"I'm the man." he said.
"I realized that," One Joke Horse drawled. "Or as they say in Texas, may's well gamble your wallet when your money is light."
"You're playing with fire."
"You're pushing your luck."
"You've drawn the fool gambit in an empty suit of cards, and the house of glass is falling like a tower of cheese."
"Alrighty, you've bested me. Or as they say in Texas, save the mule if it costs the pony."
"You owe me $500,000."
"I paid you back last week. Or as they say in Texas, don't count your debt."
"You think you're moving the tiles like a chessmaster, don't you. But the snare is closing around the jaw of the rabbit!"
"Fine, I'll pay you back tomorrow. Cool your reins, pardner."
"Not this time, Horse. This time, you do a job."
"What kind of job? Or as they say in Texas, don't tie a steer to a burning bush lessn ya know what flowers it bears."
"Top secret. Your debt will be cancelled and you will be a Diamond Guest of the casino for years. Now, here's the folder. Your alternative...is death."
Captain Price hated. To be more specific, Captain Price hated humanity. He also hated animals. He also hated jelly. To save time enumerating the list, "Captain Price hated" will be sufficient.
It was Tuesday afternoon, and the sun shone bright over the Mogarvus River as the Why Won't You Love Me set sail. Captain Price hated boats.
"Why do I have to take this cruise?!" Captain Price exangsterated. There was no answer, because he was alone, like always. Then he remembered. It was that Stuart punk. He'd been eyeing the Chief's Chair for as long as the Chief could remember. Now he was growing old, and Captain Price could finally win the endless battle for supremacy that only he knew about.
If he could just live another 15 years, that damn punk would grow old and retire, finally proving to the ages that he was unworthy to fill Price's shoes. This cruise was the perfect opportunity to keep an eye on Stuart.
After all,
it's when no one's watching you that's the perfect time to be watching
you.
naming a ship "The Why Won’t You Love Me" was a strange name for a ship, Stuart thought as he walked down the hall of the ships open afterdeck. Elsa clung to my arm tightly as if she was going to take my blood pressure with her claw-like hands. this sensation on my arm was juxtaposed by the sea air was refreshing.
it had only been a few hours since we had left dock and so far nothing eventful had happened. surely being retired wouldn't be as droll as this. if i had been back on land in my office i could have been finishing that string of seemingly unconnected murders by the El Luchador de Capos, the greatest crime boss in our city. he always kept his hands clean, but we were close to nailing him to the second case. it was almost too sad to look back on the past and all that time away from my wife.
"Hey Stuart, look over here there's a pool!" Elsa said. wow good job, sherlock holmes would be pretty damn proud of you Elsa. oh wait no he wouldn't.
"Hey Elsa do you want to head inspect our room, we haven't even seen it yet, Honey?" i said in the most respectful tone way i could, though she could still sense that what i really wanted to do. it was true, i wanted to see the room, she thought i wanted some quality alone time with her. What i really wanted was to find out if there was a personal mini-bar, and drink spirits until i was so drunk that i felt that escorting Elsa around the whole ship would be a grand old time.
i checked my room key that came with the ticket; the number for the room was 249. As we came up to the room, something didn't feel right. my detective instinct altered me to the open door of my room. i reached for my gun, only to find it absent from its regular holster. pushing Elsa away, i put one finger in front of my mouth and motioned her to be quiet. I edged my way through the door, a phone was off its base and a dial tone was coming from the top speaker.
i approached the phone slowly, no one else was in the room. i felt it was safe enough to pick up the phone and did so.
"Who is this?" i asked.
"It's an old friend, Stuart. you put me away for a long time, but this time your going to be the one thats trapped in a cell" said a voice on the other side.
"I'm going to say this one more time," i said forcefully into the phone, "Who is this?"
"Great Minds Think Alike" the voice said, the call was then ended from the other side.
"Damn." was the only thing i could say as i brushed the hair out of my eyes. This was not going to be a relaxing cruise after all.
Dr. Salvador found the dead body right after the ship set sail, even though it didn’t have sails so that phrase wasn’t accurate. But he found the body when it left the port, it was in a room, he didn’t remember which one. It wasn’t Dr. Salvador’s job to report dead people, only to make sure they didn’t end up that way in the first place. It also wasn’t his job to remember which room it was located in, or what that body looked like, so he felt justified in not caring. If there was a murderer on the boat, good for him, he was at least performing adequately at his job. Then Dr. Salvador was murdered. His dying words were “I need a…doctor”, and since he was a doctor it was quite ironic for him to say that. His body drooped to the floor like dog ears, one of those bloodhound type dogs. He died from 3 poison needle injections in his neck, this wasn’t the murderers M.O.S (modus operation system), and the doctor just brought poison along with him. So eventually someone found the body of the doctor, but they were quite busy, so no one talked about the murder until later. MEANWHILE: Captain Reptilian was happy his speech has gone so well, no one even died (OR DID THEY???), so he gave himself a gold star, and added it to his “Gold Star Board”, of which he now had 3. He had already plugged the coordinates into the navcomp (Navigational Companion), so now all he had left to do was sleep in his cabin until they arrived. As long as no one bothered him it would be his first successful voyage. Ticket Collector never tried to board the boat, since he was afraid of the water, which is also why he escaped from his mother’s womb so quickly and was born in only 4 months. No one on the ship ever talked to him again.
Once upon a time, two people had sex. Four months later, Josh Weaver was born. Eighteen years later, Josh Weaver joined the Flamingos De Los Fuegos Muertes. Three weeks later, he finally had a gun, a tattoo, and self-respect. Two days later, he shot a man. Fifteen years later, he got out of prison, got back on the street, and swore that he'd take up a respectable job like his father. Seven hours later, he was a ticket man.
~~~
It was a stormy Sunday night. One Joke Horse walked into a gun shop. It was unsuccessful, since it was closed. One Joke Horse banged on the door.
"EH? What do you want, tourist? Soy es loco nocto."
"I want to buy a gun. Or as they say in Texas, can't shoot the moon without a shotgun."
"Well, I'm closed. Quesa tomorrow."
"Unfortunately for you, your competitor was open." One Joke drew a small pistol out of his trenchcoat and held it up to the manager's head. "Give me a 12-gauge shotgun, 2 77-magnum pistols, and 3 cases of ammo, or you'll be walking out of here with 3 cases in your brain. Or as they say in Texas, don't fight a bull when you're caught on his horns."
"No comprende, loco."
"Wrong answer." BLAM!
~~~
It was Monday morning. Dr. Salvador arrived at his clinic ready for another day of working. "There's a man here to see you, doctor," his receptionist suggested. "He's in your office."
Dr. Salvador injected himself with his standard Monday morning rainbow cocktail, then went into his office. He opened the door and a shotgun barrel greeted him.
"Good morning, doctor," said the voice behind the barrel. "I have a favor to ask you...and no is not the answer. You're going on a cruise."
~~~
The Man laughed.
"Do you think anyone will ever find out about our scheme?" asked The Woman.
"Inconceivable," replied The Man. "Only two people alive know even the slightest fraction of information about it; one of them is a lowlife gambler who's about to get on a one way cruise to hell, and the other is a 34 year old ticket boy. I think we're pretty safe. Have some more champagne."
"Well, alright...I guess we have something to celebrate, after all."
"And more within a week. More than the world can ever imagine."
~~~
When Captain Price arrived at the scene of the murders, he was just searching the boat for a shrimp cocktail and a reliable spy camera. Unfortunately, his searches were cut short, as the first stairwell he climbed down had two corpses at the bottom, entangled in a rigor mortis mess, like when headphone wires get tangled but for corpses.
"STUART!" he yelled. Whenever anything goes wrong, Stuart must be involved somehow...
i thought i heard a voice of that smug dick-headed Captain Price calling my name, though it was probably nothing. i could still remember that time when he tried to seduce a woman he was investigating. she told him she loved him, he told her everything, and she booked it out of the city. that was the day Major Price became Captain Price. that was the base half-off deal of my life.
i shook the thought out of my head, i was retired now, the force was in my past. what was really important was two things. one; there was some past advisory who was on board this ship. secondly, they knew where i was living. it wasn't safe in this room anymore. i backed out of the room and looked at Elsa's eyes.
"Elsa, we have a problem. we have to leave" hopefully her first. in a boat. with no oars. actually scratch the boat. just push her off.
"What are you talking about Stuart? you better not be trying to get away from me already." she said as i contemplated if i could have made the last sentence any god damn clearer. maybe she didn't know what the word "we" meant. maybe she was some type of evil lizard that was trying to suck out my soul by having me restate everything i say. probably the latter.
"Elsa, one of the men i put behind bars back when i was a detective is on this ship, and he might want revenge. WE need to go inform the captain immediately." i said as simply as i could have putting emphasis on "we". her eyes lit up with intrigue and she clasped her hands together.
"Oh how wonderful! This is just as if it came from one of my detective novels" as i resisted the urge to throttle myself due to the her absolute ignorance to the gravity of the situation. "Does this mean i can be your assistant for this case?" i simply nodded at her statement while i really should have said, 'Sure! now go get me a bottle of scotch and two glasses with some ice in them. you're not a real detective if your not completely smashed' but that almost sounded like a bonding experience.
i turned away and began to walk away from the room, she followed. the smile on her face now had to come from the idea that she thought she was now a detective too. it was only a matter of time before she got a pipe, and began calling me Holmes.
The only right place to start, like i said earlier, was to inform the captain. he could alert the boat security and we weren't that far from dock, we could just head back for a while. he could lend me the list of everyone onboard and i could phone the cops and have them do background checks. surely "Great Minds Think Alike" had trapped himself in another cage again, he just didn't know it yet.
Although i knew nothing had happend yet, i had a bad feeling about this whole charade.
Something had already happened yet, but no one knew it. There were already 3 dead people on the boat, 2 from murder and 1 was a evil spirit haunting the lower decks. At least that is what Captain Reptilian thought, but he was the foremost expert on ghosts, since he wrote his doctoral thesis on haunted ships. Of course he didn’t actually receive his doctorate because of the narrow minded selection committee claiming his paper was “wrong” and “did not use periods”. Regardless he had received a number of reports of things falling over in the lower decks, ergo there was a ghost.
So there Captain Reptilian sat, in his captain chair, gazing into the great unknown that was the water. He sat serenely until some sort of human barged (GEDDIT!!!) into his captain chambers. “I need a list of every passenger on this boat, and I need you to return to dock!” Captain Reptilian didn’t turn his chair to meet the man, waiting to build tension; sadly he didn’t have any pets to stroke menacingly. He swiveled in his swively chair slowly, adjusting his captain’s hat down to make him look angrier. Reptilian didn’t actually care if people disrespected him, only that people thought he cared that they disrespected him.
“You think you can barge (GEDDIT!!!) in here and order the captain!”…The Captain said.
“I am an officer of the law, and if you don’t turn around this boat I will hold you in contempt of court!” The detective who had a name said. “Objection! I am invoking Sea Law, which means I can make all of the decisions and my word is law, therefore YOU are obstructing an investigation, book’em!” There was no one else there, so nothing actually happened, but the Captain said book’em first, so he totally won that exchange. There was a woman there, but she didn’t count, because she was a woman and Reptilian hated women, mostly because his brain was a woman.
“Listen; there is a murderer (!) on this ship, one of my former convicts, probably coming back to strike vengeance and so on.”
“Your points make sense” Reptilian didn’t understand, but he wanted people to think he understood. “But I can’t turn around the ship, I already put the navigation coordinates into the computer, if I changed them I would have to manually drive the boat, and they never taught me such complex techniques in boat school.”
“DEMINT!” The angry detective said, he didn’t want to swear in front of people in front of his wife. “Alright, well I need a list of everyone on this ship; he’s probably using an alias, which is what people use when they don’t want people to know who they really are! We’ll go passenger by passenger to see if anyone is missing and try to find him before it is too late!” It was already too late, because the first body was…THE MURDERER!
“That sounds good, I’ll run it by my superiors.” Reptilian entered brain mode. “What should I do brain?”
“DO THE DETECTIVE'S PLAN!”
“Sorry detective, but I have to drastically change everything about the plan.” NOBODY TELLS THE CAPTAIN WHAT TO DO!
It was the day after the “The Why Won’t You Love Me” had launched, and Josh Weaver was sitting at home after another long day of work. But he couldn’t relax. Something was buzzing at the edge of his consciousness, and he intended to find out what it was. He strapped on his household magnum pistol, kicked open the front door…Then he decided against the impulse, opened up a beer, and sat down for another evening of high quality network television. The news was in full blare when he turned it on, covering some local interest story. “Next on AHQ news: is your wife cheating on you? Four unexpected signs that the unthinkable may be true…right after this! Oh, and there have been an unknown number of murders on a ship offshore. More on that after we finish the interesting stories!”
Josh knew this was just a coincidence. Just a drug smuggling gone wrong, or a freak incident, or something strange like usually happens. But he couldn’t escape the feeling that his bad luck had followed him right out of prison. In one year of ticket selling, Josh had sold tickets to a plane that crashed, an opera where a riot broke out, a fire in a crowded movie theater, and a Journey concert. It was a bad year. But this time, fate had gone too far. Josh was getting to the bottom of this. He strapped on his household magnum pistol, kicked open the front door…and was met with a fist to the face.
~~~
One Joke Horse had never been on a cruise before, and he was living in the lap of luxury. Four vodkas, an attempted mugging, and a vicious hangover later, he set about remembering why he was on the boat to begin with. Then he opened the folder, and the task before him hit him like a freight train full of lead.
“Guess I’d better set to work,” he said. “Or as they say in Texas, can’t blow up a cruise liner without breaking a few eggs and a sweat!”
He left his room in the chaotic shambles that seemed to follow every place he visited for more than a minute and snuck down the hall towards the boiler room. No point in getting caught – after all, he couldn’t enjoy his Diamond Guest membership at the casino if he didn’t make it back, now could he? ~~~ “Many a crime boss knows the value of a skilled minion. But few appreciate the unique benefits that an unskilled, or, if you prefer, incompetent, minion can bring. For example, on a cruise ship where violence is expected to take place, handpick a doctor who lacks all aptitude to serve as the resident sea surgeon. The resulting mayhem will make a perfect diversion for any evil shenanigans your plan requires. Incompetent minions also make perfect bait for the law. If one of your best men gets arrested without a gun blazing showdown, the law will be suspicious. But when some junkie bum from off the street is not quite subtle enough about a mission requiring subtlety, well, that’s just par for the course, isn’t it? No reason to believe he was trying to get arrested, now is there? As my son, and the eventual heir to my crime empire, or Crimepire as I like to call it, you have to know these things. I expect the pathetic half-eaten horse carcass of power I have here to sprout into a full-grown zombie unicorn by the time you’re through. Understand, boy?”
Back in the cabin of the ship, the ships controls turned on in unison displaying pictures of murders, i recognized the pictures immediately. Captain Incompetent obviously had never seen this phenomenon as he immediately ran for the an emergency box on a wall labeled "Houdini's Emergency Exorcism Kit" he smashed the glass with his elbow took out a scroll no less then a millenium old and started expelling bizarre chants.
"What's happening stuart?" Elsa asked, if she was any more intelligent then Captain Reptillian, she would have known that the ship itself had been hacked.
i go to inspect the console. a text file appeared on the screen it started to list a series of characters.
->From: Great Minds Think Alike -> To: Stuart "Redman" Dale -> -> Its b33n a long t1me. -> i have contr0l 0ver the boa7. -> everyon3s life 1s in my h4nds -> 7he b0at is rigged to s1nk -> -> PS: tw0 h4ve d1ed, Elsa w1ll b3 n3xt.
i read over the last line three more times and then read the entire thing to everyone else especially so the Captain Not-Good-at-His-Job could hear what had been written. again my mind got caught speaking on the last sentence. As i rolled the thought around in my head i something suddenly clicked. if she was died, then i would be free of her... my god. after 40 years of hell (marriage) could i be free? i immediately swung around to the control pulled over a keyboard and started typing.
-> Get her if you can.
i wrote clearly and simply. after a minute of silence the captain spoke up "Get out i have a job to do," when no one reacted he raised his voice a little "My superiors will be very cross to see you've cross them"
"i dont work for them, i cant cross them Captain Braindead. i said earlier, im a detective damn it."
"can you read rude-probably-named intruder?"
"course i can, i just read you that murder's message"
"Then you can clearly read my name on my badge" he flaunted around a badge that said 'Captain Reptillian'. he looked like he was some child with a 'hello my name is' sticker attached to him.
"What type of family name is 'Reptillian'," i mumbled sarcastically under my breath, he didnt hear, "Call me Detective Dale"
"But that woman called you Stuart" he commented
"You aint my wife."
"But i am your captain, so i can call you whatever you want, Stuart" he said in a 'that'll show him' way. he then got really mad looking and turned around and yelled "SHUT UP BRAIN I CAN DO WHAT I WANT AND YOU CANT TELL ME WHAT TO DO."
Damn. i thought. why do i always get stuck with the crazies.
“Ain’t no new thing” the second in command who had been in the room the whole time said. He wasn’t really the second in command, but one day the second in command died, and since he was the janitor, he took his uniform and no one noticed the difference. He still had his habits however, and would clean the ship most days, and give advice on his off days. His name was Second in Command Gipper-Thompson-Freewell-Orson, but most people called him Second in Command Giptofor, because people thought they were very clever. “We get murders on this boat non-stop”
“Yeah that’s right, NON-STOP!” Third in Command Griot said, who mostly just affirmed and repeated what Giptofor said.
“If you think a sinking boat is gonna change things you’re wrong, ain’t gonna solve my problems, man I got problems…”
“He’s got problems, oh yeah!” Detective Dale was experiencing a mix of confusion and annoyance, but couldn’t figure out which emotion to act upon. Captain Reptilian was used to this, and thought whatever Giptofor said was sound advice, as janitors were usually quite wise.
“Do you think this boat sinking is gonna get me e-qual-ity?” Giptofor was black. “Suddenly all of you care about a sinking ship? Where were you when the lower class was sinking under Reagan? You want to stop a murderer? Where were you when the police were murdering my family? This boat is where the hatred is, and it ain’t because of some murderer! Oh, and we should begin looking for bombs or other explosive devices, because there is no other way this guy can crash a boat in the middle of the ocean”
“CRASH A BOAT!”
“You should try to find someone on the boat experienced in defusing bombs.” Captain Reptilian’s Brain said. “Just make sure you don’t cause a panic.”
“I”VE GOT IT!” Captain Reptilian said. “We need to find a man who can diffuse these bombs!”
“GOTTA DEFUSE THEM BOMBS!” Griot responded to the call.
Captain Reptilian went to the boat wide sound system. “Fellow passengers, there is no need for panic, but there is a murderer on the boat, and probably bombs, it would be lovely if someone could come to the captain’s station who has experience in bomb diffusal.” Captain Reptilian’s Brain was only smart enough to think of good ideas, not smart enough to think of what he would do with them, but such is the nature of brains to think and not act. “Thanks for your time, oh and this screen says that all communications with the outside world are dead, so don’t worry about calling the coast guard, just relax and enjoy the buffet.”
Sitting in the darkest chair in the darkest room, smoking a lone cigarette, the only sound a fait huffing and the occasional cough sat a man. He said in the gruffest voice imaginable “Not this again”. There sat Bunker Gravel, the foremost expert in bomb defusal, on vacation from his last vacation at the Hotel Camblastria, which was his vacation from the Hamptons. He stood up and headed to the door. “Why can’t I relax for once, goddamn terrorists picked the wrong boat/hotel/town on the wrong day”
“CAN’T RELAX!” Griot said instinctively on the other side of the ship.
One Joke Horse took the bomb out of his tattered satchel, and kneeled down on the ground in order to reach the rear side of the ship’s main boiler. He began to configure the wires, trying to remember the last remnants of his electrical engineering degree that still remained in his brain after years of gambling and debauchery had chased away most other memories.
“Now, let’s see, red goes to blue, green to red, orange to lavender, and-“ “Hold it right there pardner.” It was…Bunker Gravel!
“I’m gonna tell you what I told the Swedish bank robbers, the Cambodian freedom fighters, the Russian Mafia, and…well, you get the picture. No one, and I mean NO ONE, gets in the way of Bunker Gravel’s goddamn vacation! I will skin you alive, eat your heart, and break your liver into child-sized chunks if that’s what it takes to get one goddamn minute of relaxation without someone yelling about a bomb, or a hostage, or a threat! Now drop the bomb before I drop you!”
Unfortunately for Bunker Gravel, his long soliloquy had given One Joke Horse plenty of time to locate, load, aim, and prepare his trusty Magnum, and One Joke Horse fired just as Bunker Gravel made a moving tackle forward towards the bomb. Both succeeded – the bomb went skittering across the floor, flying down a hole in the ventilation, while the bullet went skittering deep into Bunker Gravel’s lung, bringing his tackle to a premature halt.
“Maybe…now…I can finally get…some goddamn…rest…” wheezed Bunker with his last words. ~~~ Elsa was irritated. The nerve of that man! We finally get away on a nice cruise, some place we can be alone together, and he just has to spend his time cavorting with the ship’s captain and solving murders!
“Well, I’ll show him,” she thought to herself. “I’ll solve the murder before he even can and show him that his wife is still useful for something!”
Right about then, she walked past the boiler room, where a disheveled man was walking out with a gun sticking out from the waistband of his pants and blood covering his shirt, cursing under his breath.
“Hmmph, the hooligans they allow on cruises these days. In my youth, a man like that would be keelhauled! Now, to investigate the ship’s library to find detective novels for inspiration…” ~~~ One Joke Horse realized that the woman he had just walked by was the woman he was supposed to kidnap right as Elsa realized that there was something slightly suspicious about a passenger walking out of the boiler room with blood on his shirt. They both turned around and simultaneously yelled “You’re coming with me!” Unfortunately, One Joke Horse had the Magnum, so his command was slightly more convincing. Elsa followed him into the boiler room, where he proceeded to write his next “letter to the captain.”
After I send this, there’s no way that detective could do anything except drop the investigation and run to the rescue of his wife, thought One Joke Horse. Just as planned… ~~~ Bunker Gravel awoke. It was like every weight on his shoulder, every strain in every muscle had been lifted. He looked up and saw nothing but moonlit sky and crystal clear stars above. Before him, a giant, celestial gate stood, and angelic anthems played, making him weep with their beauty.
“If this is death,” thought Bunker Gravel, “I could get used to it.” He approached the gate, where an old man whose face was lined with infinite wisdom and age stood, tensely turning the pages of a giant, golden book.
“Bunker Gravel,” said St. Peter. “Thank God you’re here! Some of the angels are rebelling against the leadership of the archangel Gabriel, and, well, they have a bomb, and we thought you could, you know…” Bunker Gravel paused in his steps, and took a deep breath, inhaling every last particle of air his lungs could hold.
“GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMNNNNNN ITTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!”
Detective Elsa was on this case like moss on a tree. after arriving in the Why Won’t You Love Me's library, her maternal instincts knew what to do.
"Hey Mr. Librarian" she said to someone who vaguely looked as though they worked here. he was doing janitor like things so "Could you point me to the Sherlock Holmes section?
"Missy my name's not 'Mr. Librarian', can't you read the pin." he pointed to two pins on his chest. across the two pins was written "Second in Command of Janitoring Gipper-Thompson-Freewell-Mason: Brother of Second in Command Gipper-Thompson-Freewell-Orson"
"I'm sorry i cant read, women dont need to read they only need how to make beds do dishes and clean the house" she said simply.
"Then what the hell do you have reason for lookin' for a book then" he incredulously looked at her as if she was part of the Great Boat Book Burning Banditos of 05.
"I like the pictures!"
"right then," he paused to collect his thoughts. "we dont have a section for Sherlock Holmes, but last i checked they were in the English Murder Mysteries starring Robert Downey Jr. section, right next to the Ancient Egyptian Prophetic Manuscripts section.
"Thanks Mr. Librarian! Have a happy day!" she said as she walked off in the wrong direction.
"I pity the man who wed that dunce," said Gipper-Thompson-Freewell-Mason as he went back to janitoring the ground as he 360 no scoped the some dirt with a mop. how the dirt got on the boat was a mystery in itself.
As Elsa walked around the library wondering around trying to find English Murder Mysteries starring Robert Downey Jr. section she came across a nice looking man that looked vaguely familiar. the thought crossed her mind that it could have been that meanie from the boiler room.
"HEY YOU!" she called out to the man. he immediately panicked looking around for someone cops. he pulled a gun from his waistband and pointed it at Elsa, seeing no one else in the vacant library. because seriously when theres bars, pools, and gambling who the hell spends time in a library.
"What do you want lady?" asked the man.
"i saw you in the boiler room earlier, and i think we got off on a bad start so do you want to be friends?" she asked giddily
"Umm, yeah sure..." He put his pistol back under his belt
"Whats your name?"
"I dont have a name, but in texas they call me, One Joke Horse."
"Sounds familiar, my name is Ace Detective Elsa, wife of the great Detective Stuart "Redman" Dale. I'm helping him search for a murderer! i the murderer's code name is 'Great Minds Think Alike' Do you want to help? you must be a Detective too because you have a gun. they wouldn't let any non-detective on this boat if they weren't a detective. i love being a detective it makes me feel so empowered, as a woman i know that i should be in charge because thats how women are. and you know-"
"LADY!" One Joke Horse interrupted "As they say in texas, it takes two crows to make a murder"
"OMG!" Elsa exclaimed "Your right One Joke Horse, There must be two murderers on this ship! your so smart!"
One Joke Horse put both of his hands over his face to shield himself from the stupid exerted from this woman.
"now that we figured that clue out, i feel like were really close to catching the criminals! Lets go Find those Detective novels now!" she said as she walked towards the Ancient Egyptian Prophetic Manuscripts section.
Then Elsa woke up and realized she wasn’t in a library, and One Joke Horse WAS a murderer, and there was no library on the ship, and that Sherlock Holmes was a myth. Giptofor did have a brother on the ship, but Elsa didn’t know that, but she also didn’t know that she was pyskik. Either way, she was tied up in a chair, it was a pretty nice chair, made of wood, held together by nails, etc. She was in the coal furnace room, because the ship also ran on coal just in case the solar, oil, geothermic and wind engines failed. The room was hot and smelled of coal, because there was coal dust everywhere, and Elsa couldn’t see, because coal dust was everywhere. Elsa knew this from her time as a coal miner, or maybe she was never a coal miner and she was just hallucinating, because coal dust was everywhere. That would at explain the library, and how she would forget about who kidnapped her, and then ask the person who kidnapped her to help her find her kidnapper. Elsa should have paid attention to what happened earlier rather than rushing.
Back at Bunker Gravel’s corpse, he was dead.
Back at the main deck, there was absolute chaos. Partly because all of the passengers knew there was a bomb on board, partly because there was a murderer on board, and partly because the buffet ran out of fried chicken. The security guards were trying to keep order, but they had no security training. All except for one man. Mario “M60” Mallone, a marine who served in the Vietnam War, knew how to maintain order. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn’t by killing civilians randomly, it was through hearts and minds. So M60 started building a school on deck, and through this good will eventually everyone calmed down, partly because they brought more fried chicken. M60 had a dark past, and some mysterious for being on the boat, but whatever.
Back at the Captain’s quarters, Captain Reptilian was reading a boat on how to stop a terrorist attack on a cruiseline, but most of the advice pertained to not letting terrorists on the boat, which totally didn’t help. Everyone else had already left to do whatever they thought was best to find the murderer/s/diffuse the bomb, leaving Captain Reptilian and his Brain alone in the command deck. Suddenly a message came in from the Mystery Murderer (which is the nickname Reptilian thought of, but no one appreciated his wit). It said something along the lines of “Some woman captured, you don’t stand a chance, you will all die, etc.”
Reptilian didn’t know, since he only knew how to read in languages he didn’t speak. It did mention that detective guy, so Reptilian decided to find him, and for the first time that day, agree with what his brain said. The last place the detective said he was going was…the lower decks…which totally had a ghost in it.
When Josh Weaver woke up, he was chained on top of a large coffee table. That table appeared to be the centerpiece of a conference room that was lushly decorated in garish shades of red. “Where am I?” pondered Weaver groggily.
“The 18th floor,” replied a man behind him. “Of what?” “There’s an old saying: dead men need no knowledge.” “I thought it was ‘dead men tell no tales’.” “Oh, you’re right. My bad. In that case: you’re on the 18th floor of the Casino Tiburon, soon to be the 17th floor, then 16th, 15th, 14th, well, you get the picture… until you reach the ground.” “So…I’m taking the elevator out of this place? How do you fit this table in an elevator, anyway?”
The man’s laugh was unsettling, a grating, hyena-like whine. “Oh.” “You see, you know too much about the ‘The Why Won’t You Love Me.’” “I don’t know anything! I just know vaguely who boarded it, and even that I don’t even remember clearly…I was hungover at the time! Don’t kill me!”
“Accept your death like a man, boy. And when you get to hell…tell them Morski sent you.” Then the man picked up the table like it weighed nothing more like a lollipop, and hurled it out the window like it was a lollipop that had murdered his parents.
~~~
“Why did you kidnap me?” “Seriously, woman, that’s the sixth time you’ve asked me that in the past twenty minutes, and the sixth time I’ve refused to answer. As they say in Texas: don’t beat a dead horse ‘less you plan to make it your coat.” “My husband’s a detective, you know.” “How could I know not something that you’ve reminded me of twenty times?” “He’ll put your ass in jail, just you wait.” “I’ve been counting, you know.” “Huh?” “Counting the number of times you said your husband was a detective. It’s not even an exaggeration. You have literally said the phrase ‘my husband is a detective’ twenty times in less than an hour.” “Well…he is.”
~~~
Captain Price had a motto. His motto was “The Price is Right,” and he liked to quote it whenever one of his subordinates disagreed with him on a decision. It was the kind of joke that was mildly funny the first time, enough to make you smile briefly, but then each time it was used after that, it felt like a nail being driven deeper and deeper into your skull until you want to rip out your brain just to make the pain stop. “The Price is Right!” exclaimed Captain Price. Stuart winced. “Sir, I’m pretty sure Elsa did not fake her own kidnapping. For one thing, she writes at a 6th grade level, and this kidnapper is clearly at least a high school graduate. For another thing, why would she even want to pretend to be kidnapped?” “Attention,” said Captain Price. “My god, you may be right!” exclaimed Stuart. “She heard the murders and thought it would be a perfect time to play at being kidnapped and get everyone talking about her. Well, I’m not playing ball.” And he stormed off. “I was just trying to get the crew’s attention to get another shrimp cocktail,” admitted Captain Price. “But anything that makes Stuart unhappy is fine with me.”
Christian: Stuart who was feeling free-er then ever was enjoying his time away from Elsa. He was laying down on a towel on the main deck sunbathing in the light the sunscreen bottle in his left hand and a four liter bottle of Chris Martin Gin. everything was going swimmingly except for the infrequent person running around screaming "WERE ALL GOING TO DIE". at least until someone walked up to him and cast a shadow over him. Stuart looked up, nodding his head in a drunken way.
"the hell you doing boy? get out of my sun." he said while eyeing the blur where his eye should be.
"I've got your wife and now I've came to get you!" said the blur.
Stuart reacted lazily "Whatever, go do something else im busy"
"Fine" the blur stated "but you better be ready next time."
Stuart rolled over,
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Josh Weaver is dead and died horribly via being thrown off the side of the boat and then getting chopped up by the ships rotor. No one saw him die but everyone knew what happened because everyone thought they were either a Detective or a Lizard.
Josh Weaver was in Heaven. apparently it was a lazy day as Saint Peter at the gates of heaven was on coffee break and the gate was open with a sign on it saying "if you killed someone go 5 miles right and down the staircase. PS: Homosexuals, members of other religions and Atheists are fine to proceed unless you solicited people on a daily basis."
Not knowing what to do he just proceeded as the man he never killed anyone. he just shot someone and they may or may not have died. either way it was not his fault, it was the Hospitals fault for not being good enough at their job. so he entered anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elsa had suffered some massive brain damage. she felt along the side of her head and noticed a large bruise on it that she did not remember having before. she had thought for a moment that she was trapped in a room again and tied to a chair and there was no such thing as the ship library. but there she was all mostly safe next to Mr. One Joke Horse. he looked as if he still needed to go somewhere or do something important.
but what could be more important then spending time with me? thought Elsa
She then tried to recount the horrible hallucination from earlier, she remembered that she was surrounded by coal. coal dust. The Engine!!!
"oh i must go see Stuart i think i have just found a clue! Wont you come with me?" she said the to the horse.
"No." he stated and walked away.
she frowned. "some people these days. they have no manners what so ever" she said just loud enough so he probably could have heard it. and she started walking to where she knew Stuart would eventually be. The Bar.
Stuart had no idea how he knew Elsa was kidnapped, since no one ever told him. He also wasn’t sure how he was sunbathing on the lower decks, where he was. How strange it was to experience all of these things which HAD NOT HAPPENED YET. Stuart contemplated these things while sunbathing on the lower decks. Suddenly Captain Reptilian arrived, barging through the door, seemingly running away from something.
“GHOSTS!!!!!” Captain Reptilian was running away from ghosts.
“Did you actually SEE any ghosts?” Stuart said unbelievingly and quizzically and sarcastically.
“…No, but the lower decks are haunted by ghosts, everyone knows that, what are you STUPIIIID?”
“…so why are you here…” …
“Oh, I received a message that your wife has been kidnapped by the Mystery Murderer!”
“Yeah, I already know…”
“How did you find out, I just received the message an hour ago!” Captain Reptilian said, to remind you who is talking.
“Oh, I just assumed she was kidnapped because whatever. And then the murderer just told me a few minutes ago, affirming my random assumption”
“Oh…well, that is all I wanted to say, soooo…yeah, ummmm…”
“Fine, I was just leaving, you can’t get any good sun in the lower decks anyways. I’ll protect you from the ghosts. I was just thinking, I need a drink, where is the bar on the “The Why Don’t You Love Me?”?.
Meanwhile, at the bar. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me your story son?” The friendly bartender said. The bar was empty, but Tenderson Bartleberry couldn’t stand silence, so he just continued talking as if there were people there. Ever since the free buffet started serving alcohol, no one came to the bar anymore. Every once in a while he would get a stray disgraced soldier, on the edge cop, frat group or criminal, but mostly it was just silence. Suddenly, a person walked through the grimy door and arrived at the grimy bar.
“I need the hardest alcohol you got barkeep.”
“The best I got is Xnth Power Whisky, it will kill you, and you will die.”
“That’s a start.” Stuart said, he did all of his best work while dead.
Josh Weaver, who obviously could not be falling out of a boat when he was pushed out of the window of a casino and who was not yet dead, continued to fall until, since Morski had misaimed his throw, he landed in the bay below. He gradually floated out to sea, since he landed coffee table side down, until, by a freak coincidence, he was spotted by the navigator of the “The Why Won’t You Love Me”. Unfortunately, he thought Josh was an unusually large piece of driftwood, and Josh was left to float on until he reached Africa and was freed of his chains and became part of the Mohambus desert tribe, where he lived out the rest of his life as an expert fish gutter and a ticket salesman for the local witchdoctor’s magic shows. ~~~ Elsa woke up again. “Man, the fumes in this engine room really do a number on you,” she thought. “I had that dream again, the one where I was free and talking casually with One Joke Horse. But why would he free me when he could use the threat of my kidnapping against my husband? That would just make no sense at all!”
“MAKE NO SENSE AT ALL!” replied Griot from next to her. One Joke Horse had kidnapped him just to shut him up, but so far, it wasn’t working.
“Or what if that unrealistic dream was a vision of the future? Maybe I just need to convince One Joke Horse to set me free…let’s see, an hour of nagging usually worked to get my husband to do what I wanted…”
One hour later, Elsa was still in the engine room, this time with duct tape over her mouth. ~~~ Upon watching Josh Weaver drift out to sea, Morski knew there could be a potential problem on their hands. If he reached the boat in time to stop the casino’s evil plan, The Man would be ruined! And that would mean no more free guns and ammo for Morski! Morski instantly boarded a rapid power speedboat in true action movie style and roared out towards the “The Why Won’t You Love Me”.
One Joke horse felt a chill down his neck. His well trained instincts taught him to never forget about his instincts and so he knew that he wouldn't. or would they forget him. (??!?!)
although he originally had not planned for these kidnappings happening he now had to incorporate them into his plan. That woman, annoying as she was, mentioned there being two murderers on this boat in her delirious state. and she thought i was only one of them. she also babbled about someone named "Great Minds Think Alike", his parents must have not loved him very much to give him that name. considering his own name, he decided to take back that thought.
Suddenly he was snapped out of his chain of thoughts by a audible clang and the sound of a struggle. he turned around to see what was happening, but kicked up coal soot blotted the area out like a Yper Hawk in Texas over its pray.
it was a good thing birds were weak against bullets.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Stuart as annoyed as he was knew he couldn't escape now. Captain Reptilian had lead him into the boiler because he kept saying that his "captain sense was telling him to go" but i also overheard him mumbling how his "brain" was telling him to go back to bridge and port the ship at some random port or use the internal cameras to help locate Elsa and Groit. we soon arrived at a door that was loosely attached to the frame that guarded the light from inside the boiler room.
I pressed my ear against the door, gunfire and the sounds of struggle could be heard. though the thin metal sheet. it was faint, but it was there. Elsa's terrified scream.
"We should make a tactical retreat, we dont have any weapons and by the sound of it Elsa might already be dead, also she's probably not here." Stuart hesitated under the scrutiny of Captain Reptilian, "God bless her soul, and stuff. alright lets get out of here."
But before i could move past him in the corridor he blocked my way and said "Damn it, i cant let anyone else die, and you might be right." Captain Reptilian stepped back from the door a bit. "But you sound a whole heck of a lot like my Brain right now!"
Yelling and screaming he kicked through the thin metal door. inside the room was a man with a trusty looking magnum holding a gun towards some black cloud of dust. as the cloud cleared it could be seen that there was two chairs, one filled with Griot, and the other one empty. i entered the room and began moving around the side of it behind a large boiler. Why did the ship have a boiler anyhow? shouldn't it be using modern engines rather then steam power? It was a thought of later, but he wrote it down in his notebook just for reference. if anything it was something to send to the health and safety committee of ships or something like that.
Captain Reptilian pulled out a radio transmitter and aimed it at the suspicious man. "Give up! its over!" he said with some invigorated reserve of power.
"No?" the man said. obviously confused at the Captain's makeshift weapon.
That gave me a perfect opportunity to strike. i kicked the gun out of the man's hand and slammed him to the ground with the same techniques i would use on teenage delinquents, defenseless drunk people and loiterers years ago.
"I have you now Great Minds Think Alike!!" I yelled at him, but instead of a confession or a monologue he only looked at me with a confused stare. "Your tyranny has ended, your letter to us is evidence that you are the murder and theres nothing you can do to get out of this one"
"I'm not who you're lookin' for! i love kittens! i'm the detective on this case!" the man shouted as he tried to get out of my firm hold on him. Stuart's detective instincts told him that there was at least one lie in his series statement.
"Prove it!" Captain Reptillian said who was now beside me still holding his radio within the range to cover in him in harmless frequencies normally used for communication purposes.
"O.J. Horse is my real name. Im a detective tracking this 'Minds Are Great' guy and he captured me down here, ask that guy tied up, he can vouch for me!"
"You were shooting at him!"
"no i was shooting at someone else, the something that took that woman. he was too quick!" O.J. Said truth-filled-ly.
i picked off the ground O.J. and moved him in front of Groit. "Groit, do you know this man?"
He seemed to recognize O.J. instantly and his head and bobbed his head up and down, but a restraint prevented him from saying anything. as soon as Captain Reptillian removed it and the bindings around him and the chair. Groit lulled without the support and collapsed on the ground.
it was only then i noticed two bullet wounds on Groit. letting go of O.J. i checked his pulse. he was thankfully still alive, but it had looked like he had passed out or possibly into a coma where he could conveniently not tell us more about this O.J. man. either way, he needed immediate medical attention immediately.
"O.J. Did you do this?" i asked.
"'No one's innocent when you've got murderers murdering.' My detective teacher always said." after hearing that i knew i could trust him. those words used to be imprinted on my old detective badge back when i was on the force.
"Wise words my friend. i'll trust you for now, it was obvious you were just trying to shoot the assailant and missed because of the smokescreen."
"Yeah. That's what happened."
"What are you fools doing, we need to STAT get my third officer to sick bay STAT, because STATistically he's going to bleed out STAT." the captain said in a panic.
"He's right lets talk about all this once we get this man to safety. I'll get his legs you get his arms."
And just like that a group for justice(?) was formed.
The room, and all connected rooms were incinerated instantly, the coal dust magnifying the class 2 explosion into a class xtreme xplosion. After the fire settled in the veranda of the classy dining room, (which sat right next to the coal room because the person who designed the “The Why Won’t You Love Me?” was actually psychotic AND on crack) a face popped from behind the metal door (which separated each section of the boat into more subsections, called clusters, this section was classified Oval-H-Cluster-W).
“BLAST A CHANCE!” Ace Chacer said. He had been trying to come up with a cool catchphrase for years, and that one didn’t sound right either, and would go to the literal catchphrase graveyard along with “Catch that buzzer” and “Waaay Down!” Ace Chacer wasn’t concerned, he would have more time to come up with a catchphrase, he was still young. After finding his master Bunker Gravel dead and hearing about the bomb on board, Ace Chacer knew that it was his moment to shine. So what if Bunker Gravel told him “You are not my protégé, stop following me around, you have no idea how to diffuse bombs, everyone is going to die if you do that, etc”, Ace Chacer knew in his heart that bomb diffusal was his calling. He had perfected the school of bomb diffusal he created called “Blastonomics” in which you diffuse bombs by putting bombs on them. In this case it actually worked, therefore disproving that it was his fault when that glacier exploded after he carpet bombed all of the C-4 on it. Either way, he had saved the boat from being destroyed, which was good, because no one else seemed particularly concerned about the bomb on board, even though it was announced over a loud speaker.
Ace Chacer walked away from the charred remains of the room to look cool to no one in particular until he heard a cry back inside the boiler room and turned around to find who it was, mostly so he could walk away coolly again, but in front of people. When he reached the boiler room he found a person, who was black, and another person. “Looks like they got your brother.” Second in Command Giptofor said. “THEY GOT MY BROTHER!” Third in Command Griot said. “Groit lived such a full life.”
“SUCH A FULL LIFE!”
“I guess we should go get him medical attention, since he appears to be in a coma, there is a medical bay on the top floor, which you should know.” Giptofor said in a cold yet warming way. Griot didn’t even respond, so broken up over the comafication of his brother Groit. Griot had been tied up by the murderer, and in the last second in all of the commotion, his brother Groit had jumped in front of the bullets destined for his body. A noble sacrifice that no one noticed since they couldn’t tell Italian people apart, which is what Griot and Groit were. Griot would have told them that One Joke Horse was the murderer, but he resented non-Italian people for being jerks and not saving his brother. He was also only capable of repeating what other people said before him in a more dramatic way, and no one said “O.J is a murderer”…at least not on the boat…O.J is guilty though.
Anyways, Ace Chacer happened upon this tragic scene, and thought for a while until he thought of something cool to say. “We better Ace this place if we want to save your…baced…friend.” Whatever, he would have more chances for cool things to say.
“Oh look, another white man who thinks he knows what is best for everyone else.” Giptofor said. “But yeah, we better do that. Also, you forgot to tie your shoes.” Ace Chacer would never forget that embarrassment he knelt down to tie his shoes in scornliness. “Let’s get to the medical bay.” And just like that a group of B list characters was born.
In other news, M60 Mallone was murdered on the top deck while constructing the teachers’ lounge of his new school. That school would go on to be named the “The Mario Mallone School for People on a Boat School”. At that moment he was just a bleeding corpse however, and the murderer didn’t seem particularly interested in all of this interpersonal relationship stuff that the other murderers seemed so distracted with, better to just murder stuff.
As the sun set overhead, the two noble teams of heroes both began their tasks. The crack crime-solving team of One Joke Horse, Detective Stuart, and Captain Reptilian began their investigation of the lower decks, searching for any clues that could lead to the killer. Meanwhile, the B team of Ace Chaser, Griot, and Giptofor began the long journey to the medical bay, which was on the very bottom floor of the boat since the original designers, as mentioned before, were on crack.
As this was happening, Elsa was dead. The exact circumstances surrounding her death were vague and uncertain…was she shot? Did she die in the massive, multi-room explosion, making Ace Chaser technically the third murderer on the ship? Only one thing was known…she was as dead as an ostrich in a blender.
~~~
Tenderson Bartleberry was mixing a cocktail. It was called the Peruvian Acid, its main ingredient was cobra venom, and its commercial success was due solely to the fact that many men will do anything to impress women, even drink a pitch black beverage which requires both a signed waiver and a signed will to order it. A man walked into the empty bar, dressed in a trench coat and a trench hat.
“What can I get you, pal?” “One dead bartender, no ice please.” And he pulled out a tranquilizer pistol and shot Tenderson in the neck, then poured the Peruvian Acid down his throat. Finally, the man took out a sealed envelope and left it lying in the pouch of Tenderson’s apron as he slowly died of poison.
~~~
The B team reached the hospital wing, but a line of sad looking nurses blocked the door to the room. “I’m sorry, sir,” they told Griot, “but Groit didn’t make it.” “DIDN’T MAKE IT!” howled Griot, weeping hysterically. “His last words were something to the effect of ‘avenge my murder, brother’” “BROTHER!” swore Griot vengeancefully.
If Ace Chaser were a real protégé, this would be where he comes up with soothing words of comfort for Griot, mixed with a firm promise that the real killer would pay. As it is, the best he could manage was “Sorry, man. That really ain’t ace of the murderer guy. But Ace Chaser is chasing the case! If only I had a lead to base something on.”
Stirred by intense sorrow and rage, for once in his life, Griot sacrificed his beloved call-response dialogue style. “One Joke Horse is the murderer,” he coughed out roughly, unaccustomed to putting together full sentences on his own. “Right. Let’s ace his face!” And the B team had a new mission.
~~~
Captain Price was livid. The murders were unsolved, the crew were panicky, the passengers were reckless. Price couldn’t even get a drink after that asshole bartender went and committed suicide over some unrequited love. But most worrisome of all, Stuart was nowhere to be found. That meant only one thing…he was off plotting to take over the police department! Just then, a strange noise distracted Price from his paranoid daydream. He was the only one on the top deck of the boat, since the navigator was taking the evening off to play shuffleboard, so he was the only one to see the grappling hook land and Morski come climbing up onto the boat. He was also the only one to shoot Morski in the chest with his sidearm, and the only one to watch him fall back into the water, punctured to death. He looked at his clip. There was one bullet left. “This one’s for Stuart,” he grumbled, and vowed to keep a close eye, and a closer gun, on the punk until this whole thing blew over.
One Hour Earlier...
Elsa gagged on the stifling charcoal colored dust. The room was in chaos, she could hear gunfire. the only thought that emerged from her rapid panicked thoughts was for Stuart, her white knight in shinning armor.
"Racist!" she heard clearly over the chaos.
"Yo who said uh black nigga cant be uh whitey knight an don't make me pull mah gat!" continued the distinctly "urban" voice.
"My Stuart will come for me!" Elsa insisted to herself. then everything went grey as if time seemed to take one last exhale as it gave up on the continuum and moved to another universe. maybe one which had a good educational system and margarita mondays at Ulysses's Universal Tavern.
Out of the dust, which seemed to be no longer blinding, a black man wearing distinctly ghetto rags with a large chain with a clock around his neck appeared.
"Damnnn Gurrrl." he stated intellectually, "Bitch, Yo muh motha fuckin nigga, yo' 'boutto git smok'd Ya' know what I'm sayin'?. Yo ah could save you but it would cost you Jus' like Orenthawl James."
"But who are you?"
"Yo ah be da master o' tyme an' space, a.k.a 'Time is of the Essence,' don't make me shank ya befo it's yo tyme!"
"you seem like a nice man, ok lets go!"
"Yo im sorry but da only way ta save you iz ta kill you and shit." Said Time is of the Essence, and just like that, Elsa's soul was torn from her body, killing her.
But, she didn't feel dead. she felt better then ever. she looked down at her newly translucent etherial body.
"what happend, am i a ghost?"
"now you be one wif da world, an immortal spirit, whole without da aspects o' humanity 'nd all ye damn hood ratz.."
"But... i didn't want this."
"Yo an' ah didnt wants ta babysit cho' ass all day, so chill out. See ya later Ya' dig? K thx bie"
and just like that, 'Time is of the Essence' had already left and time went back to working regularly like a man who quit his job only to be hired by the same guy a week later at half pay due to wage discrepancies.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hours Later...
Stuart and One Joke Horse were relaxing in the bar. This was mostly due to having a dead bartender, which meant two things to any well trained detective, they could cut the area off as a crime scene, and that there was an infinite tab. Stuart and One Joke Horse were enjoying a vintage brandy, sitting parallel with the bottle in the middle dividing the two, as friends would sit. Stuart shivered, One Joke Horse noticed.
"Cold?" One Joke Horse asked. "in Texas never get cold." he stated.
"it's probably because i miss Elsa so much" Stuart yper lied.
"Sounds right."
Stuart's lie was super effective. Stuart's detective instincts, as old as they were, were still younger then him. He knew the shiver meant he being watched, but no one was nearby to watch him. could it possibly be the ghosts from the decks below that the Captain was so afraid of? maybe. Either way he was free for now of Elsa and One Joke Horse was quickly becoming a friend.
"Do you have an extra gun One Joke Horse? i dont feel right without carrying one."
He slid a colt revolver across the table as a bartender would slide some fruity spirit. Stuart inspected the gun, it was in perfect condition. he holstered it and poured the man another drink.
"On the force i could have used more men like you"
"i'm honored"
"So, One Joke Horse, did i tell you about that time i stopped a bank robbery by confiscating all the money from it the day before?-"
Just then the door was kicked down and Ace Chaser, the other Griot and Giptofor stood in the threshold.
"We've come to avenge Groit" they said in unison.
Elsa was gone, but Stuart couldn't loose his only friend on this ship that easily. He kicked over the table, if they wanted a bar fight they had could have one, besides someone had to protect the booze while the bartender was busy being dead.
The bar room was a musty shade of grey, the dead bartenders lithe blood painted the ground between where the two rival detective groups stood. How the bartender’s body got to the center of the room and why he was bleeding profusely from a poison dart was a question for doctors/forensic specialists, Ace Chaser was neither, and would kill any man who said otherwise. “Bomb Digitty” Ace Chaser said in the otherwise silent room. His declaration wasn’t prompted by anything in particular, but better to practice catchphrases on dead men, that is what the psycho bomber “Bomb Digitty” said before he died. And yes, Bomb Diggitty was really dead and not on the boat, he was really, really dead.
“Huh?” Captain Reptilian said after waiting for the air to become stale again. Captain Reptilian wasn’t used to failing to understand other people, he just usually chose to ignore reality. But what they guy who just barged into the bar said didn’t make any sense, and that made Captain Reptilian angry.
“You killed Griot’s brother…and now we’re gonna kill you!” Giptofor said to no one in particular, and then decided not to elaborate, because elaborating to dead people was a waste of time, that is what the former janitor Bobt Digtymi always said.
“Oh god you gonna get killed!” Griot said.
“I’m getting too old for this” Captain Price said, before automatically realizing his mistake “Not that I would ever give up this job and let someone else take it, and if they did I would shoot them in the face! Just like I am about to shoot whoever you are IN THE FACE!”
One Joke Horse pulled out his custom revolver from his custom holster, which was placed on his custom belt that he won at a raffle down in Baghdad, Florida. If any of these guys survived, his entire plot would be ruined; luckily they seemed averse to explaining why they were trying to kill him beyond having killed Groit, which was totally by accident for all they knew. “Nobody insults my honor and lives, like a prairie horse when you shoot it IN THE FACE!” One Joke Horse was the first person to say this in the entire world.
Stuart didn’t want to conform, so he said nothing and just drew his weapon that he brought onto the ship in the off chance he could shoot somebody. For once his vacation was going as planned.
That is what everyone said and thought before the battle commenced. The bartender didn’t think or say anything, because he was as dead as other characters that have been stated as being dead. Of which they all are.
And so the two sides stared each other down. One Joke Horse and Stuart stood with their weapons drawn, One Joke Horse trying to silence the truth and Stuart trying to defend the honor of the only friend he had ever made in many long years of being a detective. Captains Reptilian and Price were also at hand behind the detective squad, as Captain Reptilian had been sitting in the bar having an imaginary conversation with a large pickle in a jar and Captain Price had snuck into the bar two minutes before the avengers arrived to keep a closer eye on Stuart.
“This ace is wild!” yelled Ace Chaser, simultaneously failing at coining a catchphrase and failing at hitting any of the detectives with his wild pistol shots. Stuart fired back, grazing Ace and detonating a bottle on a nearby shelf.
Captain Reptilian just hid behind a table. All of this noise and shooting reminded him of his childhood growing up as a child extra in Hollywood alien movies. It was a horrible youth; he was always typecast into the same role, and all of the major actors turned away in disgust whenever he asked for their autograph. Acting in the movies had taught him two important life lessons though – a) if you never wear a blood pack, you’ll be completely safe, and b) nobody dies off camera. He took both lessons to heart, and was currently both not wearing a blood pack and completely concealed beneath a table, curled up like a lizard.
Giptofor charged at One Joke Horse, wielding his mop like a deadly spear. Unfortunately, One Joke Horse had a revolver, which he was wielding like a revolver, which is very similar to a mop except you can actually kill people with it, which he did. As Giptofor collapsed to the ground, he moaned defiantly “I have not even begun to fight!” which was technically true. Then he died.
But his death had given Griot an opportunity to sneak up on One Joke Horse, as Captain Price was watching Stuart like a hawk, Stuart and Ace Chaser were watching each other like opposing gargoyles, and Captain Reptilian was watching the stylish criss-cross pattern of the woodgrains on the underside of a bar table like a deranged, cowardly ship’s captain. Griot knocked One Joke Horse out with a quick blow to the head from his pocket sap, and then dragged him off towards his room to await the merciless justice of the streets.
Meanwhile, Ace Chaser and Stuart were engaged in a duel of both words and bullets. “You couldn’t ace a test in marksmanship!” “Your ace is worth 1. Mine goes to eleven!” “Just wait until you see the ace up my sleeve!” “No chance! I’m holding all the aces here!” This continued for a while, as they were as poor marksmen as they were wordsmen. Finally, Stuart got a lucky shot and hit Ace Chaser in the arm, making him howl in pain and drop his weapon. As Stuart drew his pistol for the killing shot, Captain Price saw the perfect chance to weaken his longtime “foe”. He drew his sidearm and carefully shot Stuart in the leg, sending him collapsing across the barroom floor.
The battle was over. Giptofor lay dead, and Ace Chaser and Stuart were sprawled across the blood and beer painted floor, one with a disabled arm and one with a gunshot leg. Captain Price had snuck out of the bar nonchalantly, whistling inconspicuously and carrying a bottle of champagne to celebrate his success. Griot had One Joke Horse captive in his room and was preparing to torture him for information. Only Captain Reptilian remained conscious and alert in the barroom, and he was biding time peacefully panicking underneath the table, until….sirens began to blare from every side and a megaphone boomed:
“This is Chief Getto of the Coast Guard! We’re here to investigate the crimes aboard this vessel! Please fetch your ship to ship rope and prepare to be boarded! And make sure your buffet has fried chicken! We love that! Not because we’re black, but because it’s delicious! Not that there’s anything wrong with black people loving fried chicken! We just don’t like to perpetuate stereotypes! Even statistically valid stereotypes! Though we’re not sure if that one is or isn’t! I mean, doesn’t everyone love fried chicken! Okay, we’ll stop talking now! Prepare to be boarded!”
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