Ms. Daybreak12

Chap. 1

You can learn a lot about someone by watching them in a mirror. There are little details and subtleties that become apparent that otherwise you might miss. Like watching me tie my tie. If you looked at me and my stonewall face you might have thought it was an okay world for this joe. However, if you stared at my reflection you would have noticed a slight tremor in my hands like a gin rummie when he gets the first whiff on a brewery tour.

I was wearing the new black suit that Twinkletoes5, my secretary, had bought me. She said that for an occasion like this I needed a new one, and given my cash flow and credit rating, she purchased it for me.

I gave up my pursuit for a decent knot and looked around the room. Twink had left to shop for a new outfit. She had been gone for two hours, and I had managed to turn the place into a pig sty. My housekeeping was only matched and surpassed by my bookkeeping.

I lit up a coffin nail and tried to not get ashes on the new suit. I picked up my lukewarm cup of java and walked to window. Sipping the tepid brew between corrosive puffs, I watched the children play in the street below. A lot had happened in GenChat of late, and I was still unable to get the feet under the legs of all the change.

The name’s Moonlight, Al_B._Moonlight. I play piano in a little backwater chat dive called the Tahiti Lounge. I also run a detective agency on the side. I’m pretty good at what I do in both jobs. However, I had let someone down bigtime on both, and now the piper was calling home the cards to pay the chickens to roost.

I looked at my watch. It said 8:30. Twink would be returning soon, and then it would be time to go. I looked around for the new biege London Fog trenchcoat she had bought me. I found it laying in the corner under a pile of newspapers. It was pretty wrinkled, but I figured if I wore it for a while they might shake out. The coffee stain on the front was another matter.

As the door knob turned I brushed the ashes off the front of my coat. I turned to view a sight that made me hormones sit up and whistle dixie. It was Twink, and she was wearing a new black calf length dress that was tight enough that you didn’t need a road map to follow the curves.

“Nice outfit, sweetheart,” I said as I lit up another HardDrive and collapsed against the wall in a fit of delightful nicotine palsy.

“Thanks, Al,” she replied as she swayed across the room to straighten my tie. “A girl’s got to look her best at a time like this, I guess.”

“Well, you paid the ticket and bought the farm on that one, doll. You make the cat’s pajamas look like Aunt Millie’s flannel nightie.”

“Thanks, Al, I think. Say has anyone dropped off their rent?”

The building where my office was located had been owned by kindly old Mac Tosh. He had once been one of the most powerful men in the computer industry, but by the end he was scraping rust stains out of the toilets in his rundown building. Then he bought a ticket for a seat on that trolley to the big chat in the sky during one of my recent cases. It was discovered he had willed the building to Twink.

She had renamed it Tosh Heights and had done quite a lot of work to spruce it up. Luckily for her, since I usually couldn’t make my rent, she had cheap labor for the projects. I had learned such things as how to drive a nail straight and that spackle wan’t a term for some act you commit in a private room.

“Oh, about half I’d say, Twink,” I answered as I watched her brush some more ash off of my suit. “You know how they are. Besides most are too broken up about...you know...”

“You’re right, Al,” she said in a voice as sweet as molasses on a stick. “We won’t worry about that today...it’s a real shame, you know...I mean about her...”

“Yes it is, sweetheart, but none of us know when the conductor’s gonna punch our ticket.”

“You seem to be taking it well, Al. I mean...you were there...and you did know her well...”

“Who didn’t?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Twink, she was about as friendly as linebacker visiting the quarterback, but she had the sexual appetite of a weight watcher in the ice cream shop. She was good case of the bytes waiting to happen. When she walked in the room, virus scan alarms went off.”

“I get your point, Al. Maybe you’re still a little bitter over what she did to you?”

“Hardly, doll,” I replied as I lit up another coffin nail, “I slid the slippery path into that cave once, but I put my club away when I saw her coming again. I worked for the woman. I knew what she was capable of.”

“How’s Cubbie holding up?” she asked, trying to veer the subject into another port.

“Fine, I guess. He was there, you know, in the supply room. I think he was the latest notch on her holster, too. I’m not sure though. You needed a scorecard to keep them all straight.”

“Are they expecting a good crowd?”

“I imagine so. Every male chatter will be there crying, and every female chatter saying a prayer of thanks. I also expect to see a few sad salesmen for private room paraphernalia. They’re going to take quite a business hit. The leather shop’s also expecting a dip in sales.”

“Oh, Al, sometimes I just wanted to scratch that hussy’s eyes out for what she did to you, but I never wished to see this happen to her.”

“Me neither, doll. Just rest assured that someone’s going to pay for this or my name isn’t Al_B._Moonlight.”

“Just one thing, Al. Who’s going to pay for you working on this case?”

“Cubbie got The Tattler to pick up the tab in return for the exclusive story.”

“And they are paying you...”

“Fifty cyber-bucks plus expenses.”

“Oh, Al, now we’ve talked about you increasing your retainer. You just can’t survive on what you charge, especially if there’s going to be no piano job at the Tahiti anymore.”

“I know, Twink. Old habits die hard. Besides, the scuttlebutt is that she willed the lounge to an astute business woman. We’ll see what happens.”

“Well, I guess we better go.”

I nodded and stubbed out my nail. Twink walked to the door, and I followed enjoying the view. As we closed the door behind us, I offered her my arm. She smiled sadly, linking her soft dainty limb through mine.

We headed down the hall. It was time for the funeral.
Chap. 2

We got the Tahiti about 8:30, which gave us about ten minutes before the funeral started at 8:30. (It was always 8:30 in ChatWorld. That was just another of those unexplainable things about the place.)

The funeral was for my boss, Daybreak12. She had owned this gin joint located in the hinterlands of GenChat. She had been conceited, overbearing, stubborn, sex-crazed, and unreasonable, but I was going to miss the kid. She had had a heart of gold that she wore on her sleeve.

Twink had stopped by earlier to make sure the lounge was properly decorated for the affair. The barrel house was done up with black ribbons wrapped around all of the ferns. Over the bar was a banner that read Goodbye, Daybreak - We Knew Ye Well (Who Didn’t?).

I made sure Twink got a good seat, and then went to my piano. We had found an envelope in Daybreak’s office that had spelled out the details of how she would have wanted her funeral to take place. I glanced over the songlist: Honky Tonk Woman, I Am Woman, and Woman (Have You Got Cheating On Your Mind?). I looked at the end of the list and cringed. She had requested Louie Louie for the finish. I knew she had done that just to bug me.

The lounge was filling up like an alkie’s drawers after a glass of buttermilk. It was as packed as sardines in a school bus. Whether to mourn Daybreak’s death or to gloat over her passing, everyone in GenChat wanted to be there. Even the Voice Of Infernal Chat, GenChat’s underground FM station, was covering the event.

I noticed Cub_Reporter sitting down front. His face was as wet as the star halfback’s pants during a dance with the prom queen. Cubbie was one tough customer, but he had fallen for Daybreak like a ton of wet mush. Get in line, kid, I thought.

I also spied SingleDiety walking around the room, collecting dough. He had run a pool on Daybreak’s death and was cleaning up like an eraser on a chalkboard.

I chorded slowly into Honky Woman, attempting to add at least a little pomp or circumstance to the number. The room got as quite as a presidential aide testifying before Congress. I looked up to see Father_Mike take his place behind a podium that had been hastily built out of Old Ethernet beer crates.

“We come here to mourn the passing of one of our own,” Father_Mike said to the attentive crowd, “who has passed on, we hope to a better world, though I wouldn’t bet the orphanage’s endowment on it.

“Daybreak12 was...many things...to many people. I see from looks on the faces here many of you knew her well, perhaps too well. She will be missed like...a sister...no, a cousin...no, one of those people who drop by looking for a free lunch when you’ve rented a new video...well, she will be missed. I really have no more to say.”

With that he sat down. It was time for Daybreak’s eulogy. I winced when I saw who had been selected to deliver it. It was JetteBabe. She was a solid package of woman, a real looker even in my book. However, she was also mouthy, crude, and lewd. She had a reputation that made Daybreak look like a nun.

I sighed as I watched her stumble to the podium. She was as stinking drunk as a skunk on ex-lax. She dropped her notes and turned her back to the audience as she bent over in her black leather mini-skirt to pick them up. I didn’t mind. It was one fine view.

“We’sh are here to mourn the passhing of...”, she slurred as she bent over to look at her notes, “oh yeah, Daybreak 12...Daybreak wash many thingsh to many peoplesh...”

Jette broke down uncontrollably and wailed, “Oh hell, I don’t know what to shay! The bitch, what I am I going to do without her? There’s no one elshe here worth breaking a sweat or wind to argue with! She wash like a shishter to me! Oh god, I’m gonna missh her! We even talked about playing lickety split....”

With that she couldn’t go on. Twink got up and helped her back to her seat. She got Jette a cup of coffee and offered the poor dame a hankie. Jette blew her nose and then wiped her forehead with it. She sat there crying like a babe lost in the junkyard.

Everyone sat uncomfortably quiet while I finished the songs. Then it was time to carry Daybreak’s closed casket out.

Appropriately, the Adonis quadruplets had been chosen. They were Daybreak’s type, as buff as the shiny hood of a muscle car and as dumb as a rock in the shade. Clad only in strategically placed fig leaves, their sinews rippled on their well oiled limbs as they lifted the casket.

They dropped it when their attention was distracted by a small child eating a candy bar in the front row. Father_Mike cleared his throat, and they remembered why they were there. They lifted the casket to their shoulders like it was no heavier than their combined i.q.s.

While they carried her out, I played a solemn version of Louie Louie. As they reached the door, I pulled a HardDrive out of my pocket and lit it while still chording with my left hand. Immediately, I felt like someone had lovingly tapped the back of my head with a 2 by 4. I coughed wildly, tears streaming down my face, my lungs searing with a pain not unlike an elephant sitting on your chest. It was times like this that made one appreciate a good smoke.

After everyone had left, I sat at my piano and took a long cool swig off my mineral water. It seemed to clear my head a little. As I closed the lid of the piano, Twink and Cubbie came over. Twink sat down beside me, and I felt the front of pants get uncomfortably tight.

Cubbie looked as mad as a wet hen in a hornet’s nest. He paced back and forth taking swigs off of a bottle of Old Ethernet. Everytime he tried to talk he broke down sobbing. The poor guy had had it bad for the dame.

“Al,” he finally said, “I just can’t accept this.”

“Well, you better buddy unless you’re into necrophilia,” I replied as I lit another coffin nail and tried to ignore the fact that Twink was leaning rather suggestively against me.

“But..but..we just have to do something,” he slobbered.

“Don’t worry, Cubbie, I’m taking the case. Just hold onto your pants and horses, keep your nose clean and a stiff upper lip, let a smile be your umbrella.”

“What?”

“Sorry, Cubbie, I tend to get carried away. Just tell your editor that I will take the case.”

I felt Twink’s elbow in my ribs. I was going to try to ignore it until I noticed her right eyebrow was arched. I had learned long ago not to disregard that arched eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, one thing, Cubbie,” I interjected before she could elbow me again.

“What is it, Al?” he asked.

“About me retainer...”

“Don’t worry, Al. The editor was delighted. He accepted your offer. Heck, he even said he would have paid a lot more than what you asked for.”

“Uh...sure..okay.”

I heard Twink sigh. I decided it would not be a good time to look at her. In fact, I figured I probably should send her back to the office by herself.

“Oh, Al, one more thing,” Cubbie said.

“What is it?” I said hoping to distract Twink.

“We found Daybreak’s will. She gave the Tahiti to Twink.”

“What?”

“Well then, Mr. Piano Player,” I heard Twink’s voice over my shoulder, “I suppose you know where the broom and mop are? Well, mister, you just better get this placed spruced up before you start on your case. Oh, and Al?”

“Yes, Twink,” I answered with a sigh of resignation.

“Clean up around your piano. It looks like the inside of doghouse.”

I nodded and went to get the broom. It was going to be a long afternoon.
Chap. 3

By the time I had finished cleaning the Tahiti my hands and back ached like a sore tooth at the candy factory. Twink was a sweet dame, and I cared for her more than I did anyone else in this crummy little cy-burg, but when she got on a tear she had all of the compassion of a marine drill instructor.

While I put the cleaning equipment away I noticed that she had left. It was probably for the best since I didn’t want to discuss the retainer issue with her at the moment. We seemed to fighting a lot more lately, but I wasn’t surprised. Frankly, I still had no idea what she could ever see in a joe like me.

I kicked some chatters out who had the audacity to sit at my table. I plopped my dogs down and ordered a mineral water from the new waitress, Contented_Cow. She was a chatter from the Midwest who was a computer tech or a telephone operator or something like that. She had been employed at the lounge for a few weeks.

I eyed her closely as she walked to the bar and back. First, she had one of those bodies that you wanted to write home to Uncle Elmo about. All the curves were there and in the right places. I was enjoying the scenery.

Second, I had noticed that she hadn’t gotten along very well with Daybreak. Our “retired” employer had been about as much of a pain as a corn in a new pair of shoes, but there was something else about their run-ins. It was like they had known each other somewhere else. I placed her down on my list as suspect number one.

I lit up a HardDrive and inhaled slowly, taking as much pleasure as possible from the impending damage to my lungs. The caustic smoke pounded at my chest like a bull on steroids. I sweated like a pig on a spit at the Fourth of July picnic. My eyes watered like an Amazon river. I sighed, sat back, and enjoyed the rest of the coffin nail.

I was starting to drift off on the slumberland express when I felt someone trying to get my attention with a billyclub love tap on the bottom of my shoe. I opened my eyes and saw one of GenChat’s finest towering over me like a mountain of bad debt.

“Haul your carcass out of the seat, Moonlight!” he growled with all the warmth of a granite pillar. “Officer_Bob requests your presence for a conversation!”

“And if I don’t want to go?” I asked as I stretched.

“When was the last time you finished second place in a debate with a nightstick?”

“I thought as much. Hold onto your keister. I need to get my coat.”

I went behind the bar and picked up my suit coat and trenchcoat where I had dropped them. I dusted off the footprints and shook out the wrinkles. Then I signed my tab and left a modest tip for Contented_Cow.

I followed the fuzz out of the door. It was time to go talk to Bob.

*****

Officer_Bob and I went a long way back, or maybe we didn’t. I wasn’t really sure.

When ChatWorld was created, the techs discovered that thoughts and emotions were flaking off the chatters. After a while these started to cohese together to form cyber-beings. At first the the techs tried to find a fix but finally gave up. The cyber-beings seemed relatively harmless and added a certain color and charm to the place. Eventually, the beings became known as “flakes.” For all practical purposes they are indistinguishable from the chatters.

I’m one of those flakes. I have my own life, put my pants on two legs at a time like everyone else, but at my core there is someone else’s memories. Most of the time it doesn’t bother me, but sometimes the “flake memories” can make things as hairy as the back of your neck at the barber shop.

So, as I recollected, Bob and I used to be partners on the force. Then something happened, something he still held against me like a cyber-simola on the lap of a hooker, but I had no idea what it was. Whether it had really happened or not, I didn’t know, but Bob seemed to think that it did. I had never figured out if he was a chatter or a flake, either.

“Well, Moonlight, about as much of a pleasure as usual to see ya,” he growled as I slumped down in a chair in his office.

“The pleasure is always mine, Bob,” I replied.

“Ha, ha, Moonlight. Still the comedian. Maybe we can get you a slot at Open Mike.”

He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of rotgut and two water glasses. Then he remembered that I was his guest and reached back into for a bottle of mineral water. He threw it to me and then filled with his tumbler with hootch.

As he sipped the whiskey he stared out the window, lost in thought. I noticed that he looked tired and like he literally had aged over night.

“Well, Moonlight,” he said quietly, “so your boss died.”

“Yeah, Bob. Didn’t see you at the funeral.”

“I don’t go to funerals, Moonlight. It reminds me of...well you know...”

I nodded though I had absolutely no idea of what he was talking about. He stared out the window again. I had never seem Bob look so troubled.

He broke the silence in a quiet voice, “I knew Daybreak, Moonlight.”

“Who didn’t?”

“Cut the crap, Moonlight, before I give ya a taste of a knuckle pita! I loved her, Moonlight, we had a history.”

“Bob, you could write a ten volume set on Daybreak’s histories.”

“I’m warning ya, Moonlight! One more crack like that, and ya better get an appointment with yer favorite orthodontist!

“I know what she was and what she was like. Hell, the woman had all the warmth of a witch on amphetamines. But I really cared about her, and I want the scum who did this to her. But I don’t want him behind bars.”

“What do you want Bob?”

“I want to take him out back for a long discussion, if you know what I mean, and then to spit on his grave! But this badge is in the way. That’s where you come in.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Christsakes, Moonlight, do I have to draw you a picture before I buy you the roadmap?

“Look, my hands are tied on this one. I know we’ve had our differences, but I’m willing to bury the hatchet someplace besides your back for a while. I want to hire you to find her killer.”

“Hmmmm, okay, but about my retainer...”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, fifty cybers plus expenses. I can cover it. I’ve had some good luck at the track lately.”

“Okay...it’s a deal. Have you come up with anything?”

“Naw, been nosing around like a dog in heat, but when I pull back the covers the cupboard is bare.”

“Well, then I better get to work.”

“One thing first. If you try to double cross me on this one, Moonlight, yer gonna be brautwurst for breakfast! I want the killer and I want him bad! And one more thing.”

“Yes, Bob?”

“...Good luck, Al. I’m rooting for ya on this one.

Without another a word he turned back to the window and his whiskey. I don’t even think he heard the door close behind me.
Chap. 4

When I got outside, I stopped at the corner, lit a coffin nail, pulled up the collar of my coat, and leaned against a lamp post. The effect was like some Sam Spade wanna-be in a second rate detective story.

Bob had given me a new piece of gristle to chew on like a dog with an old biscuit. My list of suspects was growing like the hair in Aunt Millie’s left ear. First, I had Contented_Cow. There just was something between Daybreak and her that hadn’t been kosher in Denmark.

Second, I couldn’t discount Twink. As much as I cared about the dame, and as unlikely as it was that she could rub anybody out, she did benefit from the Tahiti owner’s demise. Twink was starting to amass quite the little real estate empire in GenChat.

Now I could add OfficerBob to the slate like a bag of oranges to the grocery list. He said that he wanted the killer, but he could possibly have been throwing me a bone with another scent. Jealous lovers had been knocking each other off since time began its tick tock march through the web of eternity.

No, this one was starting to turn out to be a fine batch of buttermilk.

It was starting to mist, and the streets and sidewalks were as slick as carnie barker’s spiel. I notice there was a comotion going on up by the corner. I let my mind drift like a kite in an alley and wandered down to check it out.

A ‘61 Rambler stationwagon had lost control and plowed into the side of a delivery truck. The authorities had brought in the Antidiluvian Brothers firm in to clean up the mess, but they were having a hard time. The truck was loaded with squid. If you have ever tried to pick up one of them you know they are about as slimey as an Economics professor. Multiply that by several tons, and you’d get an idea what the clean up crew was going through.

As I watched them struggle with the melange of mollusks, I weighed my options like a dieter on the day after Christmas. I added two and two on my suspects but kept coming up with three or five or something like that. I made a note to have Twink show me how to use the calculator.

I looked at my watch. It said 8:30. I just had time to stop by my office and change before my next set at the Tahiti. I stubbed out my nail, pulled down the brim of my hat, and wandered on.

When I got to the building I stopped to light up a another nail. I looked up to see a figure disappear around the corner. It was a man, about my height, wearing a fedora and a trenchcoat. Something about him seemed familiar, but I couldn’t quite place my finger in the keyhole. I shrugged and went inside.

Twink was sitting at the desk going over some papers. She was wearing the loose blue number that made me want to die and be reborn as a hockey puck. She hardly seemed to notice my entry.

“Hi, Twink,” I said as I threw my hat and trenchcoat on the sofa.

“Oh, hi, Al,” she replied as sat back and gave me an eye popping stretch. “Sorry, I was busy going over the Tahiti’s books. I hardly noticed your entry.”

“That’s okay, sweetheart. How do the figures look?”

“Well...let’s just say that Daybreak was not the most astute business woman. I swear the hussy left the place to me just so I’d go out of mind going trying to figure out her bookeeping.”

I sat down and leaned my face into my hands. Running my fingers through my hair I stared at Twink. I was starting to see a side of her that I hadn’t before. I wasn’t sure if I liked it.

I also didn’t like what I had to do next, but I saw no way out from behind the eight ball. I lit up another coffin nail, leaned back, and relaxed for a minute. Then I hiked up my courage, girded my loins, and brace myself for what I had to do.

“Say, Twink, I need to ask you something,” I said as I exhaled.

“What? Uh? Oh, sorry, Al, it’s just these figures are about as twisted as Daybreak’s taste in men. I’m sorry, Al, present company excepted.”

“Sure, doll, no offense taken. I need to ask you something.”

“What, Al?”

“Where were you the night Daybreak bought the ticket to the post-life farm?”

“Well, let’s see...Al! You don’t suspect that I did it, do you?”

“Sorry, doll, I’ve got to cover all the bases if I’m going to get the runners home. You did gain from her demise.”

“Al_B._Moonlight! Why I never! How could you suspect me? I didn’t know she was going to will me that sorry excuse for a gin joint!”

“Well, you had other agendas with her, Twink.”

“You mean how she treated you? Al, if I went after every woman in GenChat who used you, why I wouldn’t have time left to do anything else! And if I killed all the women here who broke your heart, I don’t think there would be a female left in the place!”

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I have to know.”

“Well, then I was on the other side of the modem, taking care of my business out there. If you don’t believe, you can just check with...well, never mind...”

“Check with who Twink?”

“...Well...with...my boy friend...”

I felt like I had just cut face and been slapped with a handful of cheap aftershave.

“Okay, Twink,” I said quietly. “No need then. I believe you.”

“Oh, Al, I’m sorry. I should have told you, but it’s just so complicated.”

“That’s okay, Twink. I understand. You have a life out there, and I’m just a flake. No need to explain. I don’t have a deed tatooed on your backside.”

“But, Al, I need to tell you...”

“Don’t bother getting out the violin for the Dear John letter. I got to go to work.”

“Okay. Can we can chat later.”

“Whatever, Twink,” I said bravely as I pulled my heart out of my socks.

“Oh, Al, I just remembered that there’s a shipment of liquor that just arrived at the lounge. Could you unload it before you start your set?”

“Sure, Twink, you’re the boss.”

I stopped at the door and looked back at her. She had returned to the books trying to pretend that I was already gone. I was starting to see her in a new light and didn’t know if I cared for the way the shadows were laying.

I walked out and headed down the hall, only pausing for a second by the stairs with the idea of turning back around.

Chap. 5

I shuffled down the street with my heart in hand between my legs. As far as Twink was concerned I was probably just another toy in the crackerjack box of cyber-space. I would have spent more time feeling sorry for myself, but I needed to get to work.

It didn’t take me long to unload the hootch. One of the few advantages of working for Twink was that my body was in the best shape it had been in years. I could actually walk up a flight of stairs without stopping for a coffin nail halfway.

Still, her orders did bother in me in some ways. I didn’t know what the “B” stood for in my name, but I knew that it sure wasn’t “tote.”

I walked into the front of the lounge and was greeted by total chaos and mayhem:

· Preggers69 says, "Whatta ya think gf shall we put on our appreal???"

· LyndonAnne just found out she made a D on her William Faulkner exam

· Joan_Deere says, "I'm here, it's sunny,65 deg.,smell like spring.............."

· LyndonAnne cries......I wanted a phuckin B!!!!!!!!

· Preggers69 says, "ohhhhhh Right ON Lyndie!!!!!!!!!!!!! at least it wasnt a F"

· Dad_in_Drag what the hell...is being ignored now

· Contented_Cow_ waits on tables.

· Preggers69 says, "CONTENTED_COW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Get me an Old Ethernet!!!!!"

· Preggers69 ^5s the guy in front of you

· CodeCordonBlu grabs Contented_Cow and tackles her and staples her to the floor so she can't leave!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

· Preggers69 says, "Lyndie im gonna go change gf gotta start control of the union69"

· SyddleByrne . o O ( Soupi was here and she didnt say anything to me...what do I have leprosy today or what? )

· YUMMY_HO is back

· YUMMY_HO is looking at all the pm's flying over my head, like Jan Brady looked up at Marsha in that damn starting of that show

· TriteOldSong my ho's

· Joan_Deere says, "I like a man with a sense of humor!!!!!! How's your day?"

· Santa’sHo says, "YO YO UNION69 meeting now in progres"

· GummerHo thanx Cc!!!!! Smooch for ya....but you might have to pay for the smooch

· GummerHo is listening to the Union coordinator right now

· Santa’sHo runs to huggles the funny ass soupi

· Soupi7 says, "QUEENIE GUMMER MAMA"

· NormaRay says, "so, we got the hos here tonite?"

· Santa’sHo says, "LMKUAO at YUMMY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

· GummerHoLMTBHAO (LAUGHING MY TEEFLUSS BEETCH HO ASS OFF)

· Santa’sHo says, "Yummy go over to da new pimp mobile the one i came g riding in and get you your teefs back dere in da glove box"

· GummerHo pimps over to Trite.........where is my Dentu-cream you was gonna by my Ho Ass??

· YUMMY_HO says, "YO, I WANT TO GIT ME TEEF, BUT I WAZ TOO GIT THIM BRONZED WIFF A CUBIQ ZORKONIA INN DAT TOOF BUT DA PIMP DEED KNOT GIT DHAT DONE FOR ME"

· GummerHo dam.....them are some big ole alphabetz letters ain't they???

I sighed as I sat down at the piano. I got out my tip jar as I surveyed the poor excuse for a crowd. There were more johns out there than in a men’s room at the bus station.

The cyber-hookers added quite the air to the joint. I thanked the technicians in the control booth that now I only drank mineral water. I remembered once in my younger days waking up next to a rather large female chatter who was cooing to me to tell her more about god. I lit up a coffin nail and broke into Good Hearted Woman.

I tinkled the ivories while my mind wandered back over the case. I had to dismiss Twink as a suspect, though after our conversation I would have rather nailed her hinnie to the tree on this one. I shrugged it off. No matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t stay mad at that dame.

I started to play Works Hard For Her Money. So for now that left two. Bob I would question again later, when he calmed down, if he ever calmed down. The joe was always wound up about as tight as petite pantyhose on an ample bottom. However, Contented_Cow was working, and I could get to her after my set.

I played Louise for my closing number. When I finished I cleared out the tip jar and moved to my table. I signaled Contented_Cow to bring me a fresh mineral water. Then I lit up a HardDrive and allowed the smoke to jackhammer my lungs into ecstasy as I watched her sway across the room in a pleasing manner.

I kicked back a chair and offered her a seat. She nodded and slid into the seat trying not to reveal too much under her skin tight ultra-miniskirt. She failed, but who was I to complain?

“How’s tricks, sweetheart?” I asked as I drank in the view like a hungry joe at the buffet.

“I beg your pardon?” she huffed in a manner that made me almost fall out of my seat while watching her torso. “Are you insinuating that I am one of those ho’s?”

“Keep the temp on the pressure cooker down to slow boil, doll. I just wondered how you were holding up after Daybreak’s demise.”

“Oh. Well, you know. It’s quite the change for the staff, a new boss and all...can I tell you something in confidence, Al?”

“I’ll zip it, shut it, lock it, and throw away the key. And I don’t mean my pants either.”

“Okay. Well, it’s this Twinkletoes5. I thought Daybreak was hard to work for but she seems like my first grade teacher after this witch of a drill instructor.”

“That hard, huh?”

“It’s just that she knows the law and what she can get away with. I won’t say that she breaks the rules, but she bends them about as far as you can!”

“So she makes you mad enough to spit like a goose at a hound?”

“Uh, I guess so.”

“And didn’t Daybreak make you that angry too?”

“Yes, she did. Say, just what are getting at, mister?”

“Just wondering where you were the night Daybreak bit the big one.”

“That’s hard to say. She bit the big one many a night.”

“Don’t get cute with me, sister. I’ve had a bellyful about up to here. You know what I mean.”

“Well, okay. Say, would you like to go private and maybe have a chat about it? My tounge is double jointed.”

“No way, Cow. Look you’re stalling like a car at the intersection of First and Main. You’re dragging your feet like a gravedigger with a handover. Come straight with me, sweetheart. Ante up, I’m seeing your bluff.”

“Okay, okay, just simmer down. I have an alibi. I was here in the backroom with...do I have to tell you?”

“Does bread go better with sugar?”

“Okay! I was here with Twinkletoe’s boyfriend!”

You could have pasted a feather to a board and knocked me over. Something was wasn’t kosher in the loaf of rye, but I didn’t want to tip my hand to Contented_Cow. I took a long swig off of my bottle of mineral water and lit up another coffin nail.

“Okay, doll,” I exhaled slowly through the smoke, “I’ll have to check that out, so don’t be thinking about making like a library and booking. Now you better get back to work.”

She gave me a nervous glance over her shoulder as she walked away. I hardly noticed because I was watching her backside sway like a tire swing on an elm tree in the wind. She was one fine looking piece of real estate.

I scratched my head and started to try to sort it out. Two suspects with the same alibi. Either one of them was lying or else I should page this joe for tips on how to handle the dames.

Then out of the corner of my eye I noticed a shadowy figure watching me. Before my eyes could focus on him, he turned and disappeared into the smokey crowd. All I saw was the back of his trenchcoat and fedora.

I stubbed out my nail, signed my chit, and left a modest tip. It was time to go have that talk with Bob.
Chap. 6

I lit up a coffin nail as I walked down the street, cupping the match against the cold wind that blew like a cheap hooker on a Saturday night.

I ran the scorecard through my mind and checked out the suspects. So far I’d ruled Twink out, but Contented_Cow was still in the running. However, between the two of them they thrown a new monkey wrench into the ointment. Just who was Twink’s boyfriend? Which one had he really been with, and which one was using him as a cover? And who was the joe I kept seeing in the fedora and trenchcoat? This case was starting to have more questions and fewer answers than a geometry final.

My coffin nail was getting dangerously short so I stubbed it out and stopped in front of an alley to light another. I took out a HardDrive and reveled in the ambrosial throb I felt strafe my lungs and heart.

Maybe I was too wrapped up in my thoughts like a gawdy Christmas gift, or maybe I was too enraptured by the coffin nail, but either way I didn’t realize someone was behind me until it was too late. I felt the love tap of a hard object of the back of my head. As I struggled against the impending darkness I was drug like a lump of old meat back into the alley.

A punch connected with my midsection, I assumed to get my attention. I was slammed and held face first against a brick wall. As I spit the flakes of brick and mortar from my mouth a few more punches connected with my ribs and softer regions. If there had been any fight left in me it had now flown south for the winter.

“Okay, Moonlight,” a muffled voice said, “we usually don’t like to give warnings, but in this case we’re giving you one. Back off on this case, or else.”

“Or else what? You’re going to cancel my cancel my subcription to PlayNet?”

“Or else you’re going to be sucking last week’s gravy through a straw at the bottom of the river! We mean business, Moonlight! Push us, and you’ll find out what a canceled subscription really means!”

They added a few more punches to the back of my body and few kicks to the back of my legs to emphasize their point. Then I was spun around and clipped like a turkey in the jaw. I went down like overcooked asparagus at lunch.

Through the stars and dim light of my fading consciousness I watched three figures saunter from the alley. Two were about as big as the back side of sixteen wheeler full of bowling balls. The third was wearing a fedora and a trenchcoat.

I went out like a light switch at bedtime.

*****

I had no idea how long I had been out when I finally crawled from the alley. My body felt like I had been on a hell march through Disneyland and my head like I’d been watching too many infomercials on television. I managed to crawl over to a wall and slide down against it, my fedora falling next to me.

The few people who walked by either avoided eye contact or else threw a few coins in my hat. One even suggested I would make more money if I played guitar or did magic tricks.

I finally collected my wits like a book of stamps, dusted myself off, and pocketed the coins from my hat. I winced to my feet, leaning against the wall while the world spun around me like a sloe gin carrousel.

I stumbled down the street to the GenChat Precinct. They had just moved into their new headquarters across the street from ChatControl. The building was shiney and clean, but I knew that inside I would find the same old stories of hardluck, misfortune, and the song-and-dance ponyshow of crime.

“Geez, Al,” Officer_Bob growled as I stumbled into his office, “aren’t you taking this undercover stuff a little too far? You look like you’ve been on the wrong side of the backside of wherever it is you’ve been.”

He threw me a towel and a bottle of mineral water as I slumped down in a chair. I wiped off my face and slammed down the mineral water like a hockey player going for an empty net.

“Just been on the wrong end of a knuckle discussion, Bob. You got any cyber-profin?” I croaked like a spastic frog.

Bob nodded and threw me a bottle. I ripped off the childproof cap with my teeth and slammed a bunch of pills into my throat, followed by another greedy gulp from the bottle of water. Then I sat back and closed my eyes for a minute, hoping the pain would be gone when I opened them.

It was to no avail. When I peered out from my throbbing head I still felt like I’d been having a lunch inside a tower bell at noon.

Bob sat on his desk in front of me and asked, “So any luck yet, Moonlight?”

“Not a lot, Bob,” I replied. “Ruled out Twink but still am looking into the new waitress at the Tahiti. I also found out that there’s someone who would rather not have me nosing around on this this case.”

“Yeah, that’s obvious, or else you fell behind with your bookie again. So what brings you here?”

I sighed and continued, “I need to ask you some questions, Bob.”

“What about, Moonlight?”

“Like, where were you the night Daybreak bit the big one?”

“Which one, she bit so many...say! You don’t think I did it?”

“Sorry, Bob, you know the routine. I gotta check everybody. I even questioned myself.”

“And your alibi?”

“I was having a romantic interlude with my left hand.”

“Christ sakes, Moonlight, I loved the broad! I hired you to find the killer!”

“I know, Bob, but I’ve had people do such things before to throw my dogs off the scent. A spurned lover is an awfully strong motive. Just fill in the blanks for me, and we’ll put this entry form to rest.”

“Well, it’s kind of embarassing, Al. You promise to keep your mouse in the trap?”

“Whatever comes around, the buck stops here. You know that’s how I work.”

“Well, okay. You know my life was been pretty empty. I mean, besides my joke of a love life. So I contacted Father_Mike. He set up this thing for me...”

“You mean you’re going to the Singles Only Bingo Night?”

“No, not that! Well, once a week I’m taking orphans bowling. Now don’t tell anyone! I don’t want to blow my image, you hear? Anyway, that’s where I was that night. Father_Mike with vouch for me.”

I surpressed a grin and a gaffaw. I was about to say something else when suddenly one of Bob’s flunkies burst in like a well timed enterance in a Grade B detective movie.

“Bob!” he gasped breahtlessly. “We got him!”

“Got who?” Bob queried while I lit another coffine nail and listened in.

“Daybreak’s killer! We just nabbed him!”

“What? Are you sure Mahoney? Remember the Oswald thing?”

“This is different, Bob. We’ve got proof. He had all sorts of notes and things that belonged to her.”

“Okay, well who is it, man? Spill the franks with the beans!”

“Cub_Reporter from The Tattler.”

You could have heard a bag of spam drop in the office as I jumped to me feet and yelled, “What!?!”
Chap. 7

Once again you could have glued a feather to a shovel and knocked me over. I knew Cubbie, knew him well, and figured he had about as much chance of killing Daybreak as I did of owning a third pair of socks. He was being framed like a bad picture at a cheap motel.

“Bob, you’ve got to be kidding,” I said as I lit up another coffin nail, “Cubbie has about as much chance of knocking someone off as you do of winning the trifecta.”

Bob scratched his head and replied, “Dunno, Moonlight. The proof is in the whiskey, ya know. We seem to have his keister nailed to the board on this one.”

“Mind if I talk to him?”

“Guess not. Can’t see any harm in it. I doubt if even you could mess this one up for us. Besides, he’s asking to see you anyway.”

Bob and Officer_Mahoney led me down a hall where the smell of fresh floorwax mingled with the screams from behind closed doors. We entered a dimly lit room. When my eyes adjusted I saw Cubbie huddled on stool like a shipload of immigrants.

He had a swollen lip and was sporting a shiner. There was a bright light shining directly into his face. I assumed that it wasn’t there to help tone up his tan.

“Al! Thank god you’re here!” he exclaimed like a churchboy behind the altar with a little too much communion wine in his gullet.

“Okay, Cub_Reporter,” Mahoney growled, “it’s about time for you to come clean like a dishrag.”

“But I told you I didn’t do it!” Cubbie whined.

“Yeah, and my mother had no children who weren’t braindead either! I’ll show you, you little twerp!”

Mahoney started to backhand Cubbie, but I caught his arm in mid-motion, grinding it to a halt like a brick truck running into a cement wagon. He glared at me. I glared back. For one thing, I knew that Cubbie was innocent. For another, I didn’t like bulllies. I had just walked in and already had had a bellyful of the cop’s beef and brisket.

“Calm down, Mahoney,” I scowled through clenched teeth, “my client doesn’t have to put up with your gruff now that I’m here. You want to question someone, go sit in the can and look down.”

“I’m warning you, Moonlight,” he replied, “I would rather have you in the hot seat. You push me a little more, and we’ll see that how tough you...”

“Can it, Officer_Mahoney. Moonlight would eat you for breakfast and still have room for steak and eggs,” Bob interjected.

“But, Bob, just ten more minutes and I swear we’ll have Cub_Reporter singing like a computer technician doing database management,” Mahoney pleaded.

“I said can it! Now get out before I bust your chops! I want Daybreak’s killer more than the next guy, but I want this done right, nothing thrown out in court, you understand? Now get out of here before I have you polishing parking tickets with your backside!”

As Mahoney lurched by me, I smiled and said, “Your approach is all wrong. My Aunt Millie always said you catch more Indian Mill Moths with carbohydrates than with vinegar.”

“You come from one weird family, Moonlight,” he grumbled in reply as he closed the door behind him.

I lit up two coffin nails as I sat down in front of Cubbie. I handed one to him, and he gratefully took a long drag. He collapsed into a heaving heap of coughing. The poor joie had forgotten that he didn’t smoke.

I turned the light away from his eyes and said quietly, “Talk to me, Cubbie.”

His wheezing subsided, and he said, “Well, Al, I was so mad when Daybreak died. I just had to do something. I thought maybe I could check things out, find out some stuff, and then compare notes with you. So I tried to put myself in the killer’s mind. I jotted down a bunch of stuff. That’s what the fuzz found.”

“Stories ain’t enough to fry you like a truckoad of shrimp, Cubbie. What else happened?”

“Well, I got a call. The voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t recognize it. It was muffled. I was told to go wait outside of Ma and Pa’s if I wanted info on the killer. I complied, but no one came. When I got back to my apartment the cops were waiting.”

“So someone planted evidence in your place like a eucalyptus.”

“Yes, Al.”

“And you were set up like a lane of bowling pins.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I believe you, Cubbie. I do need to ask you one thing, though.”

“Go head, Al.”

“Where were you when Daybreak bit the big one?”

“Which time?”

I sighed and went on, “The night she bought a seat on the ski lift to the Next Incarnation Mountain.”

“Oh, when she died?”

“Yes, Cubbie, when she died.”

“You know that I was in the Tahiti, Al.”

“Anyone else there?”

“Just Contented_Cow and some guy she was with.”

“That guy, Cubbie. Can you describe him?”

“No, he had his back to me. He was wearing a fedora and a trenchcoat. That’s all I can tell you Al. Sorry.”

I turned to Bob and asked, “Can you let the poor kid go? I’ll vouch for him.”

“Well, we haven’t set bail,” he hinted.

I pulled the RAMex Twink had given me off my wrist and threw it to Bob. He put it on his, looked approvingly, and nodded.

As we walked out of the station, Cubbie said, “Gee, thanks, Al. I was afraid they were going to put me back in that holding cell again.”

“Tough customers in there, Cubbie?” I asked as I lit up a HardDrive and collapsed in an estatic paroxysm, purring like a puppy.

“Let’s just say a few more hours in there, and I wouldn’t be sitting down for a while.”

“Okay, Cubbie. You just go home and keep your nose and your sleeve clean.”

“Okay, where are you going, Al?”

“I gotta figure out who’s been beating on me and setting you up. I need to stop by my office. I’ll call you later.”

I turned and headed down the street. I walked for five minutes before I remembered my office lay in the other direction.
Chap. 8

I walked into my office and found the room to be as about as steamy as a soap opera. The place was dimly lit. I heard the shower turn off as I closed the door.

Suddenly, Twink stepped out of the bathroom clad only in a towel. The damp cloth clung to her figure which arced in all the right places. Her long white legs caught my attention as I gazed slowly up her body. As she reached up to dry off her hair my eyes were riveted to her front like a nail to a brick. I sat down on the sofa and lit up a coffin nail.

“Oh, hi, Al,” she said uncomfortably as she reached for her bath robe.

“How’s it going, sweetheart?” I replied as my hormones started to settle back down to a dull roar.

“Al, we need to talk,” she said as she set down next to me on the sofa.

“Yes, we do, but first I need to ask you some more questions.”

“You still think I did it, Al?”

“No, doll. I don’t, but I need the dope on this boyfriend of yours.”

“Why? What are you implying?”

“I’m implying that everytime I make a move on this case he pops up like a piece of toast or a monkey with a banana. He’s been seen with most of the suspects, and...”

“And what, Al?”

“Nothing Twink.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her about his tryst with Contented_Cow.

“So who is this guy?” I continued.

“Oh, just some guy I met on the other side of the modem. I don’t see where you really need to be sticking your nose into my business. I say that the book is closed on this subject, mister.”

“Sure, Twink, whatever you say. You’re the boss,” I growled between puffs.

“Now what exactly does that mean?”

“It means that I’ve had about a bellyful of your attitude lately, doll. You’ve been placing more orders than a kleptomaniac at a fast food restaurant.”

“Al, I’m just trying to run a business.”

“Yeah and me into the groundwith it.”

“Al, I’m just trying to look out for what is best for both of us.”

“Yeah, well maybe you can just look out for your own for a while. I’ve had just about all I can take. I am not your stooge or your flunky or your servant. I didn’t think I could get mad at you, Twink, or if I did that I couldn’t stay that way. Now I’m not so sure.

“I really care for you, sweetheart, but a guy can only take so much before he’s fed up like a bull with a feedbag. It’s like I look at you and don’t know who you are anymore.”

“Oh, yes? Well, it’s a twoway street by this crosswalk, Al. I’ve got to take care of my life and business on outside. In here, I have to look after this building and now the Tahiti. On top of that I have to go practically everything for you except brush your teeth.

“And what are you doing while I’m taking care of all of this? Off playing piano? Or playing your cop and robbers game? Or chasing your way up some floozie’s skirt? Meanwhile, I stay here and oversee everything, pay your bills, wash your clothes, and on and on. Is it any wonder that I like it when some gentleman wants to pay me a little attention?”

She had a point, but so did I. Besides I was about as made as a hornet’s nest in the bucket of beer. I’m usually an easy going kind of joe, but this had been building for a long time. I was angry enough to spit nails at a car tire.

“Hey I never asked to be like this,” I ranted on. “You try walking in these shoes and not get corns. I’m a flake, for the love of god. I have no past, and if they decide to flip the switch tomorrow my future goes down the toilet bowl. You know what that’s like? You know how low that makes you feel?”

“You could always jump the modem,” she interjected.

“I’ve been out there Twink, and I like it less than I do in here. It’s scary. In here I least know the score.”

“So you’re implying you are doomed either way.”

“That’s about the size of the ballpark, doll.”

“Then there’s no way out of this jam?”

“I guess not. Maybe I should just leave.”

“Al, no! Please, I couldn’t imagine my life without you. Maybe we’ve both made some mistakes but that’s no reason to say it can’t change.”

“Sorry, Twink, but there’s been just too many leaks into the water under that bridge to go on. I’ll send someone by later for my things.”

I turned and started to walk the door when I heard her plead over my sholder, “Please, Al, just turn around for a second.”

I sighed and slowly spun around. The sight I saw bruised my jaw when it hit the floor. Twink had taken off her robe and was as naked as a dog. Her eyes pleaded for me to come back, and who was I to disappoint a dame like her?

She molded perfectly to my body, like she had always belonged there. Her trembling lips were soft with aniticipation. Her breath quickened, her body arched and hardened as she struggled to unbuckle my pants. We were all arms, legs, and desire at the moment.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.
Chap. 9

Twink scooted to the bathroom like a seal sliding across the ice on his rancheros as I walked to the door. I could make out a dim fetching shape through the frosted glass as I attempted to straighten my tie and ran my fingers through my hair.

The sight that greeted me made my hormones unpack for a holiday. She was about my height, long brown hair with matching eyes, and a thin figure that was filled out in all of the right places. She wore a twenties style bopper dress that was short as my credit rating.

Her name was Rosetta_Stone. She was a dj for VOIC. I wasn’t sure why she was standing at my doorway. Her eyes said business, but her body was definitely set for pleasure.

“Hi, Al,” she said in a low husky voice that tingled to the bottom of my boxers, “I thought you were out, but I noticed the light on so I thought I’d stop by.”

I lit a coffin nail and answered, “Been here for a while, doll. Why did you think I was out?”

“Oh, I thought I saw you walking off down the street,” she continued as she sedutively twirled my tie.

“What do you mean?” I asked trying to keep my mind focused while her chat pheremones hit me with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

“Oh, I saw someone come out of the building when I got out of the cab. He was wearing a fedora and a trenchcoat, so I thought it was you. Are you busy or can I come in? I have something to discuss with you.”

“The door’s always unzipped..uh...open for you, sweetheart.”

As I walked back to the couch I noticed that Rosie was about a half a step behind me. Either she was extremely interested in me or else she had the body space requirements of a Chinese bus rider on New Year’s Day.

I sat down on the couch. While she reclined rather close to me, the bathroom door opened. A disheveled Twink emerged, desperately trying to straighten her hair and clothes. She gave Rosie a look that probably wasn’t unlike the one the captain of the Titantic gave to the iceberg.

“Why, hello, Rosetta,” Twink said with enough frost to cool the buns of an eskimo, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Yeah, Twink, I can see you were busy with other things,” Rosie replied, half suppressing a sneer and a grin.

The room became as quiet and as uncomfortable as a Sunday church service when Uncle Elmo was hung over and Aunt Millie was in heat. Twink gave me a look that would have fried the dead like a omelet, huffed, picked up her purse, and swayed to the door.

“Well, you two look busy, so I guess I’ll just go see how things are going at the Tahiti,” she said testily.

Before I could answer Rosie said, “Sure, dearie. Don’t let the door hit your keister on the way out. Oh, and Twink?”

“Yes?”

“You might want to rebutton the blouse right.”

Twink slammed the door, Rosie burst out laughing, “God, I love to yank her chain! She takes us just a little too seriously, Al.”

Then her face sobered, she touched my right arm lightly, and she asked, “Is everything okay, Al?”

“It’s up and down like a school girl’s head in my lap, Rosie,” I said as I lit another coffin nail. “But that’s neither here nor there, but someplace else where you’d need a road map to find the way to the john. What brings you to see me?”

“I have a message for you from him.”

“You mean?”

“Yes.”

“But I thought he was in Tibet or Monte Carlo or Rancho Cucamonga or someplace like that.”

“He was, but he was here, now he is gone again.”

We were talking about perhaps the strangest character in all of ChatWorld, Enricco_Bizarro. He worked at VOIC when he wasn’t on one of his cyber-treks. Little was known of Enricco, and the less said the better. What thoughts lurked behind his mirrored sunglasses were best not addressed by chatters and flakes. He had helped me before when I had amnesia. I would not take any message from him lightly.

Rosie leaned close to me, her perfume piledriving into my perked senses, and whispered, “His message is ‘Look in the mirror, my friend. The secret lies there...’”

“What in the name of a burnt out cpu does that mean?”

She shrugged and answered, “Who knows? You know Enricco is as about straight forward as an alley in San Francisco. Well, enough of that business. Do you think Twink will be back soon?”

“I doubt it, why?”

“Well, then we’ll just have to take care of my other errand.”

“Which is?”

“Hormone straightening,” she gasped as she grabbed me by the tie and pulled me down on top of her.

I thought of resisting for about an instant. Then her tounge found my mouth. It moved in directions that I didn’t think were physically possible. I also remembered the hips underneath me could yield in a simlar matter. Besides, who was I to disappoint a doll like Rosie?

I tried to flick my coffin nail into the ash tray but missed. As I disappeared into her arms I just hoped that it had not fallen on my suit coat.
Chap. 10

When I awoke Rosie was gone. I stretched and laid back to collect myself. As usual, I was a little sore after our encounter. The dame had more moves than a dog digging for a flea with its hind paw.

I sat up and reached for my pants. I noticed there was a paper rose laying on them. Rosie had a nice touch for things like that. I also noticed that she had been going through my desk drawers. I shrugged and let out a small laugh. The woman was always nosing around for the skinnie on a story.

I lit up a coffin nail, sat back, and watched the dust dance gently in the fading shadows of the late afternoon sun. My mind drifted back to another afternoon with Rosie. It was after I had retired from boxing. I was troubled after killing someone in the ring. She came to me with great concern. Our eyes locked, our lips met...wait...another flake memory...damn!

I checked the program I had booted up earlier on the computer when I had gotten up for a coffin nail. It had finished running. I scrolled down the screen to confirm my suspicions. Then I collapsed like a bad pun on the couch.

The building was as quiet as a mute statue on a cold sunny day. I closed my eyes and relaxed. I was starting to drift off when I was startled by a loud knock on the door.

I tried to ignore it, but the persistant beating grew louder with each rap. It was sounding like someone was using a nightstick. I sighed, buttoned my shirt, and went to answer it.

I opened the door and faced the last person in GenChat I wanted to deal with at the moment, next to JetteBabe. I turned and walked back to the couch, lighting another HardDrive on the way. The paroxysm of nicotine nirvana ripped through my lungs like a bulldozer as I collapsed into a heap of spasmodic coughing and wheezing.

“God, Moonlight, maybe you should switch to lights,” Officer_Mahoney growled.

“It’s okay, Mahoney. It’s one of the few pleasures I have left in life.”

Surveying the mess and spying the nylon Rosie had left behind, he growled, “I really don’t want to know what the others are.”

“Well, what brings you to my office Mahoney?” I asked between puffs. “I’m sure it’s not for some warm brotherly bonding.”

“Ha, ha, Moonlight. Bob is right. You are a comedian. How would you like to try a few one liners with my nightstick?”

“How would you like to eat it from the backend, Mahoney? I don’t have time to play your pentyante mumbley peg games. Either lay your ticket on the table to be punched or go jump on another trolley.”

“Sheesh, Moonlight, why do you have to talk so weird? Anyway, I’ve got a message for you from my boss.”

“From Bob? What does he want now? These cases take time.”

I noticed Mahoney remove his revolver and train it on me as he growled, “No, from my boss, Moonlight. You’d been warned. Now it’s time you pay the piper with the pig in the poke.”

“God, and you think I talk funny?” I said as I lit up another coffin nail and surveyed the situation. “Heck, not even I could follow that one.”

“Ha, ha, Moonlight. Laugh now while you can. In a few minutes you’ll be yesterday’s oatmeal!”

“So you’re working a double take, Mahoney. What’s the scoop on that one?”

“The boss pays a lot better.”

“So why you still wearing the blues?”

“The boss figured that a man on the inside was better than a bird in the doghouse. Besides, I needed the health benefits.”

“So, I gather your boss is the one behind Daybreak biting the big one.”

“Which one? She bit so many.”

“Her death, tofu brains.”

“Oh, yeah, he is.”

“And he framed Cubbie.”

“Like a cheap picture in a motel room.”

“And he’s the one who’s been following me. No need to answer. I just want to know who he is.”

“Sure, why not? You’re not going to be spilling any beans with six feet of dirt in your mouth. Steady yourself, though. It’s a shocker. The boss is...”

If he ever said the name I never heard it. All sound was suddenly drowned out by the whirl of a large motor and a set of blades outside my window. Mahoney turned about three shades whiter than a high school boy on Sunday morning after the Saturday night dance.

He turned to me with terror stricken eyes and mouthed, “No! That was supposed to be the backup plan. It’s...”

He never got any further. The sudden spray of a machine gun cut through him like a hot knife going through cold dog waste. I hit the floor like a marine wretching in his boots. Mahoney fell, the reflection of the helicopter glimmering in his lifeless eyes.

The machine gun continued to spray the room like a cat marking its territory. Slowly, I inched over to where Mahoney’s gun had fallen. I grasped the rod in my hand and bellied my way over the window.

I took a deep breath and waited for the machine gunner to reload. When the firing ceased I leaned out the window, took quick aim, and shot the one good shot I could get in before he started up again.

My bullet hit the rudder propeller. Careening madly out of control, the helicopter had to break off its attack and bid a hasty retreat. Some would have thought I had made a great shot. However, I had been aiming for the pilot. I never was very good with a gun.

I went over to Mahoney. He was as gone as a beatnik on a red port binge. I hoped that for his family’s sake he had kept his life insurance premiums paid up. The department had a good plan.

I searched his pockets, but found only his car keys and some breath mints. I checked his wallet. All it contained was his i.d., his chat password written on a piece of paper, a few cyber-bills, and a rather old condom pack.

While I counted the money and put it in my pocket, I dropped the paper with his password. When I picked it up I noticed a faded address on the other side. I found a lamp that still worked, turned it on, and the laid the paper on the bulb. Faintly, I made out 5151 ODBC Way.

I decided to check it out after I called Bob. Then I noticed what was left of the phone was laying on top of the kindling that used to be my desk. I would have to stop by a pay phone on my way.

As I left the office I turned to survey the damage. The place was toast. Twink was not going to be pleased.
Chap. 11

Going to the address was like shooting bullfrogs in the dark while wearing a blindfold, but I really had no other option at the moment. If I wanted some answers I needed to get down and root the turnips.

I got off the trolley and surveyed the neighborhood. 5151 ODBC Way was located in one the seedier sections of GenChat. It had once been a prosperous cyber-industrial zone. However, most of the businesses had relocated to 3rd cyber-world chatrooms. Now all that remained was the hulking buildings and a whisper of the memory of the dreams that fled from them.

The warehouse didn’t look any different than the rest. It only stuck out like a sore thumb with salt rubbed in the wound by a epileptic butcher because I was looking for it. I located the door to 5151, but it was locked up like my Uncle Elmo’s drawers when he found religion.

I looked to make sure no one was watching. The street was deserted like the dance line for the ugly girl at the senior prom. I opened my wallet, got out my pick, worked the lock like a hooker licking a popcicle. I pushed the door slowly, tensing as the hinges creaked. If I ever got any luck in my life maybe some day I would find a door that didn’t need oiled.

As I entered the dusty dimly lit room my nose was assaulted by a smell not unlike a ripe gym locker. I sighed quietly and breathed through my mouth, resigned to the fact that my adversaries always ranked hygine low on their list of priorities. Ahead of me I could see a light streaming softly from under a door.

I could hear muffled voices. Outside of the fact one was female I couldn’t make out the conversation if my bet on the third race depended on it. Then I remembered that I had a shot glass in my pocket. I had picked it up in the Tahiti to throw at the loser who always requested Louie Louie. He had shutup because he couldn’t talk with some dame’s tongue in his mouth, so I had pocketed the tumbler.

I placed it against the door and listened like a telephone operator on a party line.

“...I don’t think that would be a good idea, sister.”

“But I’ve done everything you want. I’ve dated you, fed you information, even kept track of where he went. What more do you need?”

“A little more than the tongue you’ve been trying to satisfy me with, sweetheart.”

“I told you I am not that kind of girl.”

“Obviously, but if you want him to not get acquainted with some cement galloshes you better start spelling another tune besides Dixie.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you better start running the business a little more like she did. It used to be a really friendly place when I visited her office, if you catch my drift.”

“Like a piece of rotten cheese, you bad man. I told you can’t do that unless it’s love.”

“Sister, the only love that matters in this crummy little cyburg comes after a dollar sign. I’m surprised a woman like you doesn’t know that. I’ve read your profile. Wouldn’t he be interested in checking out your message history from before you met.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“Do feral christendom officials lay fecal matter in the flora?”

“My god, you are so like him, but so different at the same time...what are you doing? Let go of me! Help! Help!”

That was about all of that ticket I felt like allowing to be punched. I stepped back and kicked open the door. To no surprise I viewed Twink in the clutches of a man. His back was to me so all that I saw was his trenchcoat and fedora.

Twink’s eyes pleaded in my direction as I lept on him. My hand reached in my pocket and wrapped around the roll of quarters. I clipped him on the jaw, and he went down like a bad Mexican dinner.

He pulled me down on top of him returning my blow with a similar one. I fought through the stars and tweeting birds, desperately gripping at his overcoat as we rolled across the dusty floor. It was odd. He seemed to anticipate my every move as I did his. It was almost like fighting myself.

The struggle was getting nowhere slower a truckload of slugs driving to New Jersey. Something had to give. Fortunately, it was him. After I had slammed a fist into his gut he went for a return blow to my kisser. However, I slipped before he could connect. He missed and fell like a bad set of arches.

As he lay stunned on the floor I jumped him like a dog in heat. I sat on his back slamming his head repeatedly into the floor. Frankly, a lot had happened to me of late, and I needed somewhere to vent my frustrations. Pounding him into a bloody pulp seemed like the appropriate outlet.

Suddenly, Twink was clutching at my arm trying to pull me off. There was a look of total desperation in her lovely blue eyes.

“Stop, Al!” she screamed like an owl on amphetamines, “You’ll kill him!”

“Wouldn’t be much of loss, sweetheart, from what I heard.”

“No Al, you don’t understand! Turn him over and see who he is! Oh please Al, listen to me for once! It’s Willie! It’s your brother!”

Maybe I would have replied, I’m not really sure, but the guns I heard cocking behind me made any point I would make seem moot.
Chap. 12

I turned to see myself staring down the barrels of four guns. Willie’s coterie was the usual scum one found inhabiting gangs in these parts. They were large, unkempt, and would have had to attend to night school to qualify as fools. However, I doubted if even they could have missed from this range.

“Nice fight, bro,” Willie sneered as he stood and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth.

“I should have guessed it was you,” I replied with while lighting a coffin nail.

“Yeah, you should have, but then clarity was never your cup of duck’s soup. As for the beating if I hadn’t slipped I’d have creamed your turkey, like I always did.”

“A number of golden showers have tinkled under that bridge since then, Willie. I’m not the cowering younger brother anymore.”

“Too bad we’ll never know, Al. I just can’t let you walk away from this one.”

“So what brings you back to GenChat, bro?” I asked, stalling like an out of shape basketball team with three minutes left until half. “I thought you had jumped and weren’t coming back?”

“Oh I was getting by out there, but it wasn’t the same. Day to day on the other side gets so mundane. Not the excitement you find in here.”

“You care to elaborate?”

“In here the men are real men, dangerous and verile. As for the dames, well, they are all gorgeous and alluring.”

“That’s a rather shallow assessment, I’d say.”

“Well I always believed in calling a cookie by its cover, Al. You know that. Anyway, I got bored, but I didn’t have the cyber-bucks to sit myself back up in here. Then I met this little gingersnap. She was amazed how much we looked alike. She was pretty easy to twist around.

“About the time she got around to reading the scorecard on me it was too late. I had done some nosing around, which is probably our family’s major talent, and found her message profile. Too bad you won’t get to check it out, Al. There’s some juicy stuff in there that would open you eyes wider a cup of psychoactive joe.”

“Let her go, Willie. She’ll keep her trap shut. I’m the one who you have to worry about spilling the beans in the gravy.”

“Sorry, Al, I hate to do this, but I can’t let either one of you go. I’m afraid I have to hang you out like a set of orlon curtains. Now get over against the wall, both of you!”

*****

As you know, I am a cyber-being, a flake. However, few know that when a cyber-being comes into existance, sometimes the energy splits in two and forms cyber-twins. That had happened with Willie and me.

We spent the first few years of our lives in the GenChat Cyber-Foundling Home. Then one day a couple came to the asylum for orphans and took us home. They were our foster parents, Uncle Elmo and Aunt Millie.

They soon discovered that I was incredibly strong and had other powers beyond those of mere chatters and flakes...I could pick up the tractor...and tell Uncle Elmo what color panties Ms_Comstock, the school marm, was wearing...then one day a green meteorite fell in the field...wait...that was just another damn flake memory...

Our foster parents took us to their farm where we learned the value of a hard day’s work and of a bar of soap on a rope. Uncle Elmo and Aunt Mille were twisted, perverted, and borderline socio-pathic, but their hearts were in the right place. They tried to raise us to be proper little gentlemen who only stole when no one was looking.

I was your usual little farm scamp, basically a good kid getting in trouble now and then, but there was something twisted about Willie before they even dropped the checkered flag to start the race.

In the orphanage he mugged other babies for their formulas. In grade school he ran a protection agency to shake kids down for their lunch money. In junior high he threw a fit when the cat they gave him to dissect in Biology wasn’t alive. Once we found the family dog, Arfles, totally bereft of hair. Willie hadn’t used a razor, he had employed a set of tweezers.

I somehow made it through high school and got a pinball scholoarship to the local junior college. Willie dropped out and started working in the gas staion. One day they found the owner unconscious in the backroom. The money from the register, the station’s pickup, and the owners beautiful young wife were gone.

That was the last of Willie I had seen until today. There were always rumors of his involvement in some nickle and dime scheme, but by the time I got there he was gone like a passed gas into a stiff breeze. Then I had heard he had jumped the modem one step ahead of the long arm of the law.

Now I found myself at his mercy again, like when we were kids and he had held me down to give me a nuggie and a super-wedgie. Only this time it was no longer kid games. If I didn’t think of something soon Twink and I would be eating dirt with a spoon along with our worm breakfast.

*****

We stood facing five guns with our backs to the wall. I wouldn’t say things looked grim, but I wouldn’t have taken any odds on us at that moment. We were definitely some place between the rock and the canoe without an oar.

“Oh, Al,” Twink whispered while my eyes were glued to her heaving chest, “I am so sorry. It’s just that he seemed so much like you, and I was so lonely, and he was there, and you were always so busy...and...and...”

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” I said as I lit up my last HardDrive and collapsed against the wall in a raking fit of pure nicotine ectascy and delirum. “At least you fell for a good looking joe. We’ll get out of this somehow.”

“How, Al?”

“I’m workingon it, doll. I’m working on it.”

I looked into her soft baby blues, and it was like time quit ticking for a moment. Suddenly, it didn’t really matter. If it was time for me to check out and see what was on that other side on the modem, then maybe this was the way to do it, with the one person in ChatWorld that I gave a rat’s ass about and who possibily felt the same way about me. I reached over and kissed her tenderly, reveling in the delightful sweet trembling taste of her lips.

“Oh, Al,” she whispered in a husky voice that made my rancheros crawl up my scivies, “I l...”

She never got to finished the sentence. Her words were interupted by the a high piercing shriek that was as deafening as the perfume that assaulted my nose. A high heeled boot flashed by my face and dropped the first thug like an egg roll. A spinning roundhouse kick connected to the second, and he went down like a bag of lumpy mashed potatos.