The Big GenChat Caper

Chap. 1

Lightning flashed, thunder lumbered through my head like the sound of several bowling lanes greeting the tender ears of a hangover. I trembled as I reached for my pack of coffin nails.

My hands shook when I lit up and inhaled the delightfully noxious fumes deep into my lungs. The room was dimly lit and the match glowed off my fingers, reflected on the wall, showed me what a hole my new office was.

Things had changed a lot of late in this crummy little cyburg. For one, I had quit my job as piano player at the Tahiti Lounge, a pleasant little backwater dive located a few doors down from ChatControl. The pay hadn’t been great, the customers a little surly at times, but I had liked the place. It was where I hung my hat, where I worked and lived.

Alma had sold the joint to Daybreak12, the woman who had broken my heart like a toddler tearing up his father’s remote. I could live with that. Life had taught me how to swallow my pride like a chicken bone caught sideways in your throat. However, Daybreak kept forgetting to pay me. I think she still owed me for two months. She offered to make it up in trade, but even I have my pride. I had walked that path before and wasn’t about to put the token in that toll slot again.

So I resigned and moved into this office. Twinkletoes5, my secretary, still stopped by every day to do the paperwork, pay the bills, wash out a few things, and look after me in general. However, a lot of the time I was alone, and I wasn’t used to being alone.

I took a deep drag of the numbing smoke, picked up my bottle of mineral water, and moved to the window. Outside it was as dark as my mood. The street lights weren’t working again, but then a lot of things weren’t working, including me, and my rent was due the next Monday.

Daybreak’s purchase of the Tahiti wasn’t the only change around here. A few months before, Gil Bates, the most notorious gangster in ChatWorld, had jumped the modem and taken some equipment with him. I never found out what he took, but it had helped him to assume the identity of one of the most powerful men in the computer business. His first act had been to purchase ChatWorld.

Since then everything here had gone down the drain on a handcart to hell’s toilet. Tech staff had been cut to the bone, and things no longer ran right, as if they ever did in the first place. For example, there had always been some freezes in here, where everyone and everything would just stop for a few minutes or sometimes hours. Now on a daily basis the place locked up like my bowels after a good Italian dinner.

I checked my watch. It said 8:30. That didn’t mean much since it was always 8:30 in here. I figured I had about six more hours before Twink showed up. A man could smoke a lot of coffin nails and drink a lot of mineral water in six hours. He could also go to the bathroom quite often, too.

Things looked as grim as a schoolboy encountering a quiz in subject where he had never cracked the book. I was contemplating a trip to a local pub for something a little stronger when suddenly I was roused by the sound of a knock on the door.

*****

When ChatWorld was created one of the unforeseen consequences was that pieces of people’s emotions and thoughts flaked off and floated around the place like a rummie on an ether binge. Eventually, these flakes cohered and formed cyber-beings. Few people were able tell these beings, who became known as “flakes”, from those who came to the rooms from out there.

I’m one of those flakes. The name is Moonlight, Al_B._Moonlight. As I said, I used to be the piano player at the Tahiti Lounge. I also had a detective agency on the side. It was now my full-time job, but if things didn’t start picking up soon if was going to have to learn to say “and do you want fries with that, sir?”.

*****

As I walked toward the door, I could see silhouetted through the dingy frosty pane a shape like most men only encounter in their dreams before they wake up to a slightly damp set of sheets. I only hoped that it was a case and not some dame a collection agency had sent because they knew how hard it was for me to say no to a good set of legs.

I fumbled at the door, finally remembered to pull it open, not push it out, and has nearly knocked over by the sight that assaulted my eyes like a bag of wet Jell-O. She was about my height, built solid like a brick crapper, but had one of those shapes like an Italian sculpture. Her lips were as luscious as a hot fudge sundae and her eyes had that “what can I do to you next?” look. I could think of plenty of things.

Suddenly my stomach plunged like a drunk diving for the porcelain god. I knew this dame from the Tahiti. We had had our run-ins, some of them not unpleasant. The woman owned a tongue that could move in many directions at once. She also had more notches on her gun handle than Wyatt Earp. She was a good case of the bytes waiting to happen. Her name was JetteBabe.

“Hello Albie,” she sneered swishing by me with a sway to rival a California earthquake. “Well, I see that your taste in decorating matches your taste in clothes.”

She moved to the tattered recliner in the corner of the room and threw my extra set of clothes on the floor. Ceremoniously, JetteBabe sat down and looked at me expectantly. The look always made me feel uncomfortable, like I was supposed to be doing something but didn’t quite know what.

I offered her a swig off of my bottle of mineral water. She looked at me in disdain, reached in her purse, and pulled out a can of Old Ethernet beer. I was amazed. Her lack of manners was matched only by her paucity of taste in booze.

“So what’s up, sweetheart?” I asked as I lit up another coffin nail.

“Albie, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot sister.”

“You live in ChatWorld and are actually a flake, right?”

“You got it, doll.”

“Then why do you talk like something out of a 30’s detective novel? I’ve never understood that.”

I shrugged and sat down on the edge of my desk where I could get a better view of her legs. If the conversation was going to go nowhere I at least wanted to enjoy the scenery.

“So Jette, what brings you to my office? Bored at the Tahiti and looking for a little action on the side?”

“You wish Albie. I’ve told you before you’re not my type. I prefer men who at least bathe. No, as much as I hate to admit I need your help. I’m in trouble, and, as we know, the word in the rooms is that when you’re in trouble go see Al_B._Moonlight...”

“That’s true, sweetheart, trouble is my middle name. Actually, I have no middle name, only an initial...”

I dodged the ashtray she threw at me, admiring how her significant platform jiggled in the process.

“Okay, so what’s the scoop, the dope, the story on the eleven o’clock news, doll?”

“It’s the Tahiti, Albie. There’s rumor of a hostile takeover.”

“I know, Daybreak bought it.”

“Why don’t you just let the water flush under the bridge? No this is different. The Bates Boyz are leaning hard on her.”

“Who hasn’t?”

“Albie! Listen! It isn’t just her. They’ve taken hostages: SadieMoo, Wallflower, ChipaWhey, and even my latest, Darn_Satan...”

“Too bad, sister,” I said between puffs, “don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“And they’ve taken the piano...”

“Okay, that does it! Even a flake can only take so much! Consider me on the case. Of course it will cost fifty cyber-bucks plus expenses.”

“Deal, Albie.”

I stubbed out my nail, put the cap on the bottle of mineral water, picked up my hat, and walked to the door. I waited for JetteBabe to go out first so I could get a good view of that carriage of hers as she moved it along.

It was time for a little visit to the Tahiti.
Chap. 2

I followed Jettebabe through the door into the Tahiti. The sound of chat engulfed me like syrup covering a waffle:

· thecoyone says, "singeldiety Hey what's up?"

· Cleverpainter says, "AL...MY GOD I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN FOREVER"

· Mewriter says, "hi al"

· Jettebabe sways to the bar, orders an Old Ethernet

· You say, "i don't come here often"

· Carjak tries to hug Al hello stranger, how ya been?

· Mewriter says, "i saw blood when i cut myself shaving"

· You tell Daybreak12, "i'm only here to check on the missing piano"

· Cleverpainter pops Slip upside de head

· Daybreak12 tells you, "ok"

· singlediety leaves.

· Daybreak12 rummages behind the bar.

· Cairn__ leaves, heading for the MeetMarket.

· Daybreak12 says, "Carjak .. come help"

· Cub_Reporter will have an Irish Coffee, thank you.

· Daybreak12 says, "Carjak.. tstop yappin & get to work.."

· thecoyone says, "it's such a nice day out!"

· Keokuk leaves, heading for The Baths.

· Zoltar says, "Bing am I to old for you, smiles"

· Carjak asks what would everyone like?

· Iced_tee enters.

· Cleverpainter giggles at Slip

· Copper66 will have a Candian Coffee, Thank you.

· thecoyone says, "good...."

· Cleverpainter (((((HUGS TO ALL)))))

· JetteBabe pours Old Ethernet in her coffee

Some things, like a good case of foot fungus, never change. One of them is the bantering in the Tahiti. I thought if you added up the i.q.s of the crowd you might come up with a number about the size of Daybreak’s cup size. Still, something about it was like going home to mother.

I automatically moved to my old table. There were a couple of chat-wanna-be-lovers sitting there. I told them to go find a private room and kicked them out. JetteBabe sat down with me, and we waited to be served.

By the time the waitress, Carjak, finally got around to us my mood was about as dark as the lighting in the room. She politely pointed to my coffin nail and to the new “No Smoking” sign that hung just below the “No Age/Sex Check” sign. I in turn politely pointed the middle finger of my right hand at her and ordered a mineral water. Jette asked for another Old Ethernet.

“Well, Albie,” Jette said while stealing a drag off my coffin nail, “seems like old times, huh? All we need to be going is groping each other madly, or punching each other out...”

“...or both.”

“You know, Albie, if you ever got off your high horse we could be a pretty good team, like Burns and Allen, Crosby and Hope...”

“...Booth and Lincoln.”

She sighed and turned to her drink. I stared at the bare stage stripped of its piano like a tree laid naked by a overly hormonal beaver. I could pretty much give a rat’s ass about the people the Bates Boyz had taken hostage. Frankly, in a place like this they were merely cannon fodder. There were plenty more where they came from.

But the piano set my rancheros to boiling. I had done everything on that piano except commit an act of bestiality with a panda and in my pre-mineral water days I might have done that. I started to vow to have my revenge when I was interrupted by the sight of the most stunning set of arguments in ChatWorld making their point.

“Hi Daybreak,” I sighed as I braced like a masochistic patient in a sadistic dentist’s chair.

“Hello, Moonlight, how goes the detective business?” she asked as her perfume assaulted my nose like a jackhammer.

“Not bad,” I answered between puffs, “Jette here just hired me for a job.”

“Gee, and you refused such ‘work’ from me. Tsk, tsk, now you’ve lowered yourself to her standards.”

Jette and Daybreak locked eyes, glaring icicles and innuendoes at each other. I sat between them and had a good idea how a cape felt at a bullfight. Jette picked up her beer. I could see she was contemplating whether throwing it would be a waste of booze. Daybreak stood with her hands on those hips that I knew had ground better men than me into submission.

The lounge became so quiet you could hear an anvil drop. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and watched. I stood transfixed by the two magnificent bodies in front of me. Only one thought stayed in my mind. I tried to choke it down but it erupted like a gulp of warm sloe gin.

“Cat fight!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Everyone was looking at me like the naughty school boy caught passing gas. Jette and Daybreak jumped on me and started trying to depants me. I struggled but it was a doomed effort, especially once Daybreak got those legs locked around my chest. I had encountered those thighs before and lost every time.

Suddenly a shot rang out. One of the patrons, Cub_Reporter, grasped his leg and fell to the floor. I spied two dark shadows - one tall and lumbering, the other short and twisted - sprint out the fire exit.

I picked my hat up off the floor, dusted off my coat, looked at the women and said, “Well, I guess it’s time I go to work.”
Chap. 3

As I stepped out the door I lit up another coffin nail, delighted by the numbing sensation it brought to my entire body. I shuffled down the dimly lit street, trying to miss the piles of refuse that lay on the sidewalk and in the gutter. Bates had also cut the maintenance staff to the bone, and the place was always a mess.

I noticed that a growing number of business were now closed with To Open Under New Management signs hanging in their windows. Not many of the private rooms were open either. In the past they went like hot potatoes at the county fair: Mamma’s_in_the_Kitchen, Rocky_Looking_For_Peachfuzz, Leather,Leather,Leather, etc. Now they were closed tighter than a nun’s crotch. The neighborhood has going downhill.

My feet carried me aimlessly to the destination I had in mind. Every gumshoe has a place where he can put his ear to the rail and his finger on the pulse of the situation. I had mine. It, too, had changed ownership but was actually opened for business.

The room used to be Rick’s Cafe. It had been one of those restaurants where the grease laid as thick on the floor as in your arteries. Recently, it had been sold and reopened as The Master Chef. There was a certain pretentious air to the place, but at its heart it was still the little steak and eggs with a friendly cup of joe dive it had always been.

As I entered the sounds of chat mixed with the aroma of the food:

· Al_ready says, "do you know john39?"

· Angel_381b sits and pouts with cayrn

· Cayrn orders her and Angel a coke

· Ladidi69 wants a coke too cayrn

· D-p is here, but just not talking much

· Angel_381b thanks Caryn and smiles

· Caryn hands Di a coke too

· Ladidi69 smiles in appreciation

· D-p says, "brb"

· Caryn says, "k"

· Yellowcat89 says, "Al_ready r u talking to me"

· Cayrn says, "brb too"

· Angel_381b sits, pouts and drinks her coke

· Al_ready leaves.

· Mimi_30 is back

· Cadman23 enters.

The dreary atmosphere seemed to match the rest of GenChat, but I paid about as much attention to it as a husband to his wife during Monday Night Football. I was looking for one person in particular and could give a flying leap about the bunch whimpering around the counter.

Then I saw him, one of the oddest figures to ever cross over the modem into ChatWorld. He was the owner of The Master Chef. Tall and lanky yet rather stuffed in his ill fitting tuxedo, his story sent chills down the spine of even the most hardened chatter. His name was The_Cook.

The story, as I remembered it, was that out there he had been a simple cook plying his trade from estate to estate. Then he hit upon a plan. Using his culinary arts he starved to death some and fattened others into docility. In the end he married the heiress and became the master of the estate with his former employers working devotedly for him.

At least that is what I believed had happened. One of the problems being a flake is that you are a collection of other people’s thoughts and emotions. The story could have been true or it could have been from some obscure novel. I was never sure and, frankly, no longer worried about it very much.

In the old days I had come to Rick’s Cafe looking for WeazelBoy, a slimy little snitch who would have sold his own mother for a pack of coffin nails and a pint of Scuzzie Scotch. However, Weaz had bought a ticket on the trolley to the Big Chat in the Sky.

Now, I came here to see The_Cook. He seemed to know every piece of dirt that came down in GenChat. If anyone knew the dope, the scoop, the skinny on the situation it would be him.

“Hi Cookie,” I said as I walked up to him.

He looked down his nose at me and asked, “Reservation for one?”

“Cookie I just need to bend your ear a little.”

“Reservation for one?”

I sighed and greased his palm with a cyber-lincoln. He would give the info I wanted if he had it, but first he always insisted on playing this little game.

“Ah yes...Moonlight...table for one by the...,” he looked down at the abe and continued, “by the kitchen. FishWarf, please seat this gentleman.”

I took my seat and looked at the menu. At the prices they charged I decided to stick with a cup of joe. I checked the water glass and dinnerware. At least they were clean these days.

The waiter brought my java. About the time the cup was lukewarm The_Cook joined me. He plopped down and immediately started wolfing down a large meal. It never ceased to amaze me how he ate and yet stayed so thin.

“Well, Moonlight, what can I do for you today?” he asked between bites. He ate like a pig but at least he had manners and didn’t talk with his mouth full.

I slipped a cyber-jackson under his plate and said, “Things are getting stranger than a Democratic senator applying for the priesthood. Businesses closed down, GenChat going to the potty for the dogs, you know the score. Now the Bates Boyz are leaning hard on Daybreak...”

“Who hasn’t?”

“I know, Cookie, but they’ve kidnapped chatters, stolen my old piano, and now they shot a chatter right in the lounge. How come they don’t bother you?”

“Let’s just say I have an ‘arrangement’.”

“You paying protection money?”

“Do untamed pontiffs defecate in the shubbery?”

I bit back saying anything about him stealing my lines and asked, “So what’s the news, the gist, the lowdown on all this?”

He picked up the andy, slipped it into his vest pocket, and looked at me expectantly. I slid another jackson his way.

“It is like this, Moonlight,” he said as he piled into his dessert, “Bates is setting GenChat up for something big. I’m not sure what, but he’s trying to buy out every business in here. I have an arrangement for now, but there is an agreement that when I’m told to scoot, I leave with no questions asked.”

“So that’s all you know, and it cost me forty-five for that.”

“Forty-eight fifty plus tip. Don’t forget you have to pay for the coffee. Sorry, that’s all I know...but I can steer you to someplace where you might find out more...”

I sighed and slipped him my last abe. This was getting expensive, and if he didn’t get give me something better I was about to hang him out with the laundry and the baby’s bathwater.

“There’s a room that has been bought out...remember For Gaelic Only?”

“Yeah, I stumbled in there once. I still have nightmares about the soccer songs.”

“Well, I have been told that room is headquarters for this entire operation. You may find out more there. But, Moonlight, be careful. Do you know who’s running this show for Bates?”

“No.”

“It’s your old nemesis, TwytstedPair.”

I felt my rancheros shrivel up and try to crawl up inside my body. TwystedPair and I had been adversaries for a long time. I still carried the scars on my rectum from one of our encounters. Last time I had barely gotten out alive when Bates jumped the modem. Still, I saw no way out of it. I had to find the piano.

“Thanks, Cookie. We’ll see you around.”

“Not if I see you first, ha, ha.”

I declined the complimentary after dinner mint and strolled out of The Master Chef. The visit had cost me nearly my entire roll. I decided to head back to the office and see if Twink was in and bum a few bills from her. She knew I was good for it.

I turned and headed down the street, dodging the pieces of paper that tried to wrap around my face. Suddenly, I stopped and stared at one flier that I was ready to throw away. It read:

NOTICE OF INTENT TO VACATE:

THIS ADVISE THAT THE GenChat #3 OFFICE BUILDING HAS BEEN SOLD. ALL TENANTS ARE HEREBY GIVEN SEVEN DAYS TO VACATE THE PREMISES. ALL WHO DELAY BEYOND THIS DATE ARE BEGGING TO BE DOG WASTE.

That was the location of my office. I had not heard anything about it before. In fact, kindly old Mr. Tosh had seemed very happy just the other day when I talked to him. Something smelled like last week’s diaper. I hurried toward my office.
Chap. 4

When I arrived at the office building I noticed old Mr. Tosh was having a discussion with some goons. He was losing the debate badly. Luckily, they weren’t the overly large variety so I figured I could handle the rebuttal for him.

“Excuse me,” I said as reached in my pocket and wrapped my right hand around the roll of quarters I had for playing the slots later, “but this seems terribly unfair to me. Mr. Tosh is a nice old gent, even if he is one brick short of a full load. Wouldn’t you rather finish this in a more peacable fashion?”

“We’s’ll shows yas, peactible!” one screamed spitting into my face.

“I gather from your poor vocabulary and beggaredly dental hygine that you must be some of the Bates Boyz.”

“Yez, faggut! An’ now we’s are gunna cuntinue dis with yas!”

I ducked his swing and came up with the roll of quarters into his sternum. Immediately, I swung my hand down and connected with the second one’s left knee cap. The third one froze, his mistake. I grabbed a garbage can lid and introduced it to his face. The second was starting to try to get up so I connected the toe of my right shoe to the soft skin under his chin. He went out like my Uncle Elmo on Christmas Eve.

“Thanks, sonny,” Mr. Tosh said as he dusted himself off, “ten years ago I would have taken those coots myself!”

“Sure, Pops. I hate to see an unfair fight. Rubs my grain the wrong way up the backside.”

“Call me Mac, sonny. They wanted me to sell the building to them. I had said yes but changed my mind. This is all I got left. You know my life wasn’t alway like this, running a beatup building in a rundown neighborhood. I once had power. I held the computer world in my grasp. I had the ultimate operating system....”

“Sure, Mac,” I said quietly as he spun off into his story.

I had heard his tale before and sometimes wondered if it was true, but not today. The light was on in my office, and I could see a shape through the window that made me ache down to my heels.

“Yes,” he rambled on, oblivious to me starting to walk away, “I had it all, but I got too greedy. Tried to make everyone do it my way. Then that rascal Bates came along. He stole my system, my ideas. Now he wants my building too...say...Moonlight...”

“Yeah, Mac?”

“Thanks for the help.”

“Anytime.”

“And about your rent due next Monday? Well, I heard you’re a little tight.”

“Tighter than than 34D bra on a 42C chest.”

“Well, don’t worry. You got until Tuesday now.”

“Thanks, Mac,” I said as I walked through the door and headed up the steps.

*****

I opened the door to the office and couldn’t believe it was no longer the shambled mess I had left earlier. The place was as tidy as a bookkeeper’s bank account. Everything had been picked up, the furniture dusted, and the window was ajar allowing what passed for fresh air in GenChat into the room. Through the cracked door into the bathroom I could see my other set of clothes had been washed and were hung up to dry.

I pushed in the door and spied Twink sorting through my bills. She was wearing a light blue cotton dress that showed off those magnificent legs of hers. Her long blonde hair lay loosely across her chest which moved in a not unpleasant manner.

The sight made my eyeballs fall into my pockets. There were a lot of good looking women in ChatWorld, but, frankly, few of them could hold the paper sack that Twink’s lunch came in. I would have used the word stunning, but it would have been totally inadequate.

I coughed. Twink looked up with a beaming smile and ran across the room to me. She stopped at the agonizing point that seemed to be the line between us: close enough to perk my interest, far enough to make my rancheros ache. I could really fall for that dame, but I was only a flake. She had a real life out there. I had no idea why she wasted her time on me.

“Oh, Al,” she gushed, “you’re back!”

“True as hitting a nail on the fanny,” I said as I lit up a coffin nail, “and I see you’ve picked up again.”

“Oh, Al, it was such a mess. Sometimes I swear you you don’t live like a person, you live like a bear.”

I shrugged as I went to the icebox to get a bottle of mineral water. The scent of her perfume was intoxicating and making me a little weak kneed. I had to sit down and clear my head.

“So what’s up Twink?” I asked while attempting to hide the fact I was sweating like a race horse and breathing hard like a heavy smoker who just an up four flights of stairs to cop a view of the only one in this crazy cyber-universe that he cared about.

“Well, Al, just going through these bills of yours. I swear it’s hopeless! You barely could make ends meet when you worked at the Tahiti. Now the loss of that job plus the rent on this place. I just don’t see how you can make it.”

She let out a sigh. I was watching her chest and nearly fell out of my chair.

“Well,” I said as I cleared my throat, wiped my face, and shifted to a more comfortable position, “there’s always the band.”

“Oh, Al, that band never gets jobs. You’re lucky if they get to play a benefit.”

“We do have a gig tonight.”

“Really?” she beamed nearly blinding me with that flashing smile, “Where is it? What does it pay?”

“Well, it’s at the MeetMarket. And it really doesn’t pay, just one of those pass the hat things. But it’s a start.”

“Oh, Al, I just don’t know what I’m going to do with you. And I suppose she will be singing with you?”

“Rose, yeah, she’s our vocalist.”

Twink let out a jagged sigh. I thought I saw the glimmer of a tear in her right eye, but it was probably from the dust in the room. I decided maybe I could perk her up with the news of the new case.

“Oh, I got a new case, Twink.”

“Really, Al? That’s great! What is it, and what does it pay.”

“The usual fifty, plus expenses...”

“I told you you needed to increase your retainer.”

“Old habits die hard, Twink. Anyway, JetteBabe hired me to look into the problems in the Tahiti.”

“Oh, her. And I suppose that means you will be seeing that Daybreak woman? I still want to claw her eyes out for what that hussy did to you!”

“That’s eggs in another bucket, Twink. And as for Jette, she’s a looker but I’d trust her about as far as a prostitute would trust Jack the Ripper.”

I noticed her hand tremble as she sighed raggedly again and said, “That never stopped them or you before, Al.”

Twink was decidedly aggitated. I couldn’t figure out what was going on. Maybe she was interested in me, but I couldn’t see why. I had no idea why she even bothered being my secretary when I couldn’t pay her piddle.

She walked across the room and stood staring down at me. My eyes looked up that great body and were locked in her gaze. As she leaned toward me I had a good idea how Tokoyo felt when Godzilla was on the way. I closed my eyes and waited.

Suddenly, even through my closed eyes I saw a flash of light. It was followed by a thundering explosion that knocked Twink into my lap. She felt like she belonged there as her curves molded to my body. I buried my face into her hair for an instant delighting in the sweet fresh aroma. Then I had to get up to see what had happened.

Through the window I spied a car blazing on the street. There was man on fire screaming in agony next to it. As he collapsed I realized it was old Mr. Tosh. Well, he won’t have to worry about his operating system anymore, I thought.

I heard a car door slam. I looked in the direction of the sound and saw the shadowy shape of a sedan scream around the corner. I wasn’t sure of the color but had a good idea.

I looked at Twink. She was terror stricken. She probably needed to be held, but I didn’t have time for that. I put my mineral water back into the icebox and picked up my hat.

“I’ll be back in a little while, Twink.” I said as I walked to the door.

“Oh Al, where are you going now?”

“Gonna go nose around. Something just isn’t kosher, and I want to know who left the ham in the kitchen.”

I bummed a cyber-jackson from Twink before I left. I almost kissed her on the cheek but decided it would just be a waste of time. What would she want with a joe like me?

As I scooted around Mr. Tosh’s body on the street, I wondered why anyone would have wanted to off the poor old duffer. It made no sense, he was harmless. Something didn’t smell right, and I knew for sure it wasn’t Denmark.

I also wondered if this meant I could stall a little longer on coming up with the rent.
Chap. 5

I decided to head back to the Tahiti and see what was up there. It was starting to rain. I put up my collar at the traffic light while watching some idiot do his Gene Kelly impression. It takes all kinds to make a chatworld, I thought, as I viewed him splashing merrily in the puddles until he was blindsided by a cab.

When I opened the door to the lounge the eruption of chat hit me like tobacco juice from the lips of some crazed java junkie. Jette was “holding court”:

· Syddlebyrn says, "to shoot my computer then myself"

· PistonfromDetroit1968 should leave before he gets in trouble

· JetteBabe looks at Piston....runs over and grabs him and says PLEASE don't go

· PistonfromDetroit1968 looks at Red, smiles , think you know

· CMe3PO huggles him

· JetteBabe looks at piston

· Syddlebyrn says, "I have a distinct chance of being disabled for the rest of my life"

· The___Sot grabs a bottle of crown

· JetteBabe watches piston

· RedOooLaLa looks at Piston in The corner

· CMe3PO sits on kastanza

· JetteBabe looks at Coke....what the heck are YOU looking at?

· MissingKittens says, "DUDLEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

· The___Sot says, "i am so sorry syddle"

· Dead_PurpleDinosaur looks at Jett

· Dave_Dudlee says, "hi ladys"

· Syddlebyrn says, "I'm fed up at the world right now"

· MissingKittens jumps up and down

· Coke__Slut says, "Looks like nothing to me!"

· JetteBabe will not be pushed....

· JetteBabe says, ";shoves Coke in the tiki pool"

· Dead_PurpleDinosaur looks at Jett again....

· The___Sot says, "you have my email right?"

· Coke__Slut grabs jette's by the hair and drags her in

· JetteBabe slaps Coke

· JetteBabe laughs HA!

· PistonfromDetroit1968 cant watch this

· Dave_Dudlee picks kitty up and scratches her

· Coke__Slut knocks Jette one upside the head

· Corn_Wholeo smiles and winks at jette

· MissingKittens prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrs

· Coke__Slut graps on to Pistons arm

· JetteBabe gets the WHACKING stick out!

· Syddlebyrn says, "I have an internal infection to top it off"

· Kastanza passes Jette a can of woop ass

· Coke__Slut graps the whacking stick

· JetteBabe knows that Coke hasn't aCLUE as to what it's for

· E-Lane says, "WB WHOLEO"

· PistonfromDetroit1968 asks Red for this dance

· Dead_PurpleDinosaur tries to buy Daybreak a drink

· JetteBabe slams Coke into the wall and goes to the bar

· Daybreak raises a condescending eyebrow at Dead_PurpleDinosaur

· Kastanza is havin a time noticin him self at the moment

· Kastanza says, “LOL”

· Coke__Slut slams a bottle of whiskey over jette's head

· E-Lane says, "lololololol@kastanza"

· RedOooLaLa says, "I can not believe Coke is fighting for piston"

· Dead_PurpleDinosaur stares at Piston

· JetteBabe interupts this fight for a message from her sponser

· E-Lane tells RedOooLaLa, "i don't think jette can believe it either."

· Coke__Slut says, "What is it Jette?"

· The___Sot says, "so syddle......wanna share this bottle of crown?????"

· Daybreak12 listens to JETTE?

· JetteBabe . o O ( excuse me...but did i say anything about a WORD from Coke?...no i didn't )

· The___Sot says, "i know syddle......"

I shook my head as I sat down at my table. It was good to see that Jette hasn’t lost her touch. She had all the subtlety of a Libyan diplomat. I ordered her an Old Ethernet and me a mineral water while she threw Coke__Slut out one of the windows.

Jette came over and sat down with her legs far apart. She nodded, picked up the beer, downed it, and let out a long belch. Since she was wearing a rather short skirt I forgave her crudity.

“Well, Albie,” she said as she wiped her mouth on her sleeve, “is that a roll of quarters in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?”

“A roll of quarters. I was going to play the slots later.”

She sighed and grabbed the waitress by the arm as CarJak walked by. I felt sorry for the kid. Jette was hard to take even if you were used to her. For someone new to ChatWorld it was like waking up on Thanksgiving morning and seeing my Aunt Millie naked by your bed.

“So, Albie,” she said after polishing off her latest brew like a marine spit shining his boots, “what brings you here? Slummin’ again?”

“No, just nosing around. Anything happen since the shooting?”

“Not much. Daybreak did hire a new band,” she said as she ordered another beer.

I looked at the stager and winced. I knew the group: The Cyber-Buncha Polka Dudes. They played an annoying polka/surf rock fusion. As they broke into a polka version of “Little Deuce Coupe” I told Jette the news about Tosh.

“That’s interesting,” she said as she inhaled still another Old Ethernet. That woman drank like she sweated and neither sight was pretty. “Let me check with our ‘proprietor.’ I think there’s something you need to know.”

I looked across the room and saw Daybreak. She was walking toward us with her latest catch. I recognized them, BuffBoyWhore1 and BuffBoyWhoreB. I had seen them around here before. They were a couple of eighteen year olds who could type all night, but if they blew their noses their heads would collapse.

“Hello, Moonlight, Jette,” she said while proudly showing off her wares.

“Hi, Day,” Jette replied, while she ordered another beer and gave Daybreak a look that could have frozen Santa’s shorts.

She continued, “Showing off your latest round of bytebait? Didn’t you know they had extended the Mann Act to ChatWorld?”

“Tsk, tsk, sweetie,” Daybreak replied, “and I see you are stuck with my last week’s laundry.”

“Cut the crap, honey. I threw one tramp out the window and wouldn’t be above doing it again. We just need some information. It seems old Mr. Tosh was just killed.”

“You mean the old guy who owned #3? He offered me a quarter once to look at his war injury.”

“Wow! And that’s more than you usually make in one of your sessions. Anyway, didn’t he tell you something about that building once?”

“Let’s see...” Daybreak mused while biting her lower lip.

My memory flashed back, and the front of my pants got damp and tight.

“Oh, yes, I remember...he told me if he ever died he was going to will the building to Twinkletoes...” she said with a quiet grin on her face.

“What??!!” I interjected.

I tried to stand up and walk, but after looking at Daybreak something was caught uncomfortably in my pants. It wasn’t the roll of quarters.

Jette laughed uncontrollably with beer spewing from her nostrils. She fell off her chair and rolled on the floor. I was tempted to kick her in the ribs, but I remembered what she did to Coke__Slut and held my foot.

“Well, Albie,” she said as she got back in her chair, “looks like the shoe has a new pair of socks. But that is neither here nor there. We need to discuss our case.”

“Yes,” said Daybreak as she sat down with us.

“Wait a minute, our case? You know I work solo,” I said while wiping the sweat from my face. The chat pheremones from this pair were so thick you could cut them with a butter knife.

“Albie,” Jette said between gulps, “this is too important to be trusted to the likes of you. We pay so we play. We decided to bury the hatchet someplace besides in each other’s back for a little while. Daybreak will stay here and keep her nose to the ground. I’ll come with you. Take it or we’ll find someone else who will.”

“Okay,” I sighed, knowing which side of the butter my bread was on.

“So what’s our first move?”

“Remember a room called For Gaelic Only?”

“Remember it? Hell, I polished off many a beer and door knob in that place.”

“Well, I have a tip we should check it out. Let’s go.”

I paid our tab and left a modest tip. Jette stood and swayed to the door. I followed her to get a better view. As we went outside she took hold of my arm. I wasn’t sure if it was for affection or because she was too drunk to walk.

We turned right and headed down the street.
Chap 6

We crept up to the room as quiet as church mice in running shoes. The place was boarded up tighter than a Scotsman on St. Patrick’s Day. I scouted around and discovered an open window on the second floor.

In an nearby alley I found an old rickety wooden ladder. While Jette powdered her nose I lugged the ladder to the room and propped it up against the wall. I stood back for her to go first.

“What are you waiting for, Albie?” she asked.

“After you sweetheart. A gentleman always let’s a lady go first,” I replied while I lit up a coffin nail and inhaled the sweet acrid fumes deep into my lungs.

“No way, Maynard! Number one: you want me to go first so you can look up my dress; number two: whoever goes first has a much better chance of getting shot; number three: Al_B._Moonlight, you are no gentleman.”

“So?”

“So, I am not going first, you are!”

“Sorry, kid. There are two ways to do this. The wrong way and...”

“The way of the person is paying you for this job! Either you do first or you better get use to sucking grease off fry baskets because that’s all the work you’ll be finding around GenChat!”

I sighed,started to climb, and mutterd “well you’re no lady either” under my breath. She had a point, though, and, for all practical purposes, she had my rancheros in a vice. I needed this job, no ifs, ands, or “why me’s?” about it. It was do as she she said or start shopping for a cardboard condo.

I climbed through the window into a room that was as black as my mood on April 15. I stopped and Jette bumped into me. I felt a hand grope around me and cop a good feel of my rancheros which made me jump like a spastic frog.

“Sorry, Albie,” she said, “force of habit. And you do have more than a roll of quarters in there...”

I reached into my coat and pulled out two flashnights. I turned mine on and handed the other to Jette. The room was musty and littered with the usual trash I had come to expect when dealing with the Bates Boyz. When it came to housekeeping they made me look like Martha Stewart.

Sometimes when I encounter a tense situation my thoughts wander like a hitchhiker in Iowa with a Missouri map. It ends up in a strangest places as it was doing now. I knew I probably shoouldn’t mention what came to mind but couldn’t help myself.

“Jette?” I whispered.

“What, Albie?” she hissed like the serpent she was.

“I was over at Ktown’s the other night, and he had on the t.v. They we’re playing this old Abbot and Costello routine, ‘Who’s On First.’” You ever seen it?”

“Of course, who hasn’t? Why?”

“I didn’t get it.”

“What do you mean you didn’t get it? What’s to get?”

“Well, for instance, who is on first?”

“Who.”

“Yes?”

“Who is on first.”

“Beats me, that’s why I asked you.”

“Albie, Who is on first.”

“Look, doll, if I knew I wouldn’t ask you.”

“Moonlight, WHO IS ON FIRST!!!!!!!!!”

“I don’t know.”

She tried to choke back the words but they flew from her like a wife throwing crockery at her husband, “I Don’t Know is on third.”

“What?”

“He’s on second.”

“Who’s on second?”

“...NO...ALBIE...WHO’S ON FIRST! AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh, okay. Just one thing Jette.”

“What, Albie?”

“I still don’t get it.”

She screamed and threw her flashlight at me. I ducked and watched it skid across the room, stop, and spin a slow lazy circle. When it was finished circling it shone on a large sign which read GRAND OPENING!!!!!!

I walked over to the sign and attempted to ponder its meaning. I knew it was somehow tied up in this sordid business going on in GenChat. Grand Opening, but grand opening of what? What set of boxcars did Bates have up his sleeve this time?

Suddenly, behind me I heard a muffled cry . I whirled to see Jette in the grasp of a large lumbering shadow. Then I felt a stabbing pain in my left kidney and heard a sisnister twisted chuckle.

I went down like a prom queen after a condom. Everything started to fade and go dark.
Chap. 7

I awoke with a pounding headache in my kidney. I knew we were in trouble just as I recognized I would be passing blood for the next week. It was a taut jam my pickle was in this time.

I noticed that I was laying in a rather tight dark spot that moved a lot. I surmised it was the trunk of a car, probably a certain sedan with which I was all too well acquaintained. As for taut jams and pickles I noticed I was tied face first to Jette, and she was moving back and forth against me in a not totally upleasing manner.

“Oh, hi, Albie,” she grunted into my face with Old Ethernet laden breath.

“Trying the loosen the ropes?” I asked as I endeavored to ignore the swelling in the front of my pants.

“No, just keeping myself entertained. You know, Albie, you really are slime but there is a certain attraction to you. Maybe I just want to take you home and brush your teeth. I don’t know. But this does seem to be a moment to satisfy my curiosity. I mean, we’re not going anywhere and don’t have anything else to do...”

Then she clamped onto my mouth with the suction of belljar and slid a tongue into my mouth that had more moves than a Romanian gymnyst. I suddenly forgot I was trussed up in the trunk of a car and quite likely on my way to pick up that ticket to the Big Detective Gig in the Sky. All that mattered was that she was about to explode underneath me like some sex crazed Mt. St. Helens. I began to realize why she had her own harem in GenChat.

Without warning the car stopped. I banged my head against the roof, and Jette screamed “Oh mother of god!” at the top of her lungs. Despite the fact we were about to head off for Tooky Tooky Land, I felt strangely relaxed. In fact, I could have really used a coffin nail about then.

As the hood of the trunk was flung open Jette whispered, “If you ever breathe a word of this to anyone I’ll rip your rancheros out through your throat!”

“What and spoil my reputation?” I replied. “Hell, I feel like I should wash my groin out with mouthwash.”

“Well, Moonlight, we meet again,” a familiar voice sneered at me as my eyes tried to adjust to the bright light. “Hopefully, this will be last time. I swear you have more lives than than a rehabilitated communist!”

The familiar voice was TwystedPair, the right hand man of Gil Bates. When Bates needed muscle he called someone like Twyst’s pal RejecteDisk. But when he needed some thought added to the situation, spiced with pure unmitigated evil, he summoned Twyst. Now that Bates was on the outside Twyst ran the show in ChatWorld. Whatever was happening was pretty big if he was handling this operation himself.

“You were getting nosey again, Moonlight.” he said while lighting a Balkan Cybronjae. “I hate it when people snoop around. Reminds me of a hyper-active dog and Jette’s crotch. We’ve come too far and done too much for you to gum your shoe in the works.

“Don’t bother speaking, Moonlight. I don’t care to hear your pathetic voice. You don’t have anything worth saying that I’d want to hear. I’ve passed you by, Moonlight. I’m in the big leagues now while you’re still shagging grounders in Lubbock.

“It’s curtains for you, Moonlight. You know next to nothing but that little bit is more than I can afford. Same with the dame with you. What we have planned is big, really big, and I don’t want a couple of pismires messing it up. It’s time you bought on a seat on the Big Sleeper.”

“So won’t you fill us in before you send us off...” I asked stalling for time.

I was interrupted by a set a of nails raking across my face and voice screaming, “I said I didn’t want to hear your pathetic voice! It just reminds me of how small I once was!

“No! I won’t tell you what we are doing! I prefer you to go to your insignificant death without the slightest idea why I’m going to erase you like a bad mark on a quiz paper! All I will say is that it is bigger than a piece of gum on my shoe like you could ever comprehend...And that after we leave we’re going to have a little chat with your friend Twinkletoes!”

I bristled like a boar in heat and struggled in vain against the ropes that bound me.

“You touch her, you go near her, you enter the same zip code where she lives, Twyst and you’ll live to regret it!” I screamed.

Twyst laughed with an evil sneer as RejecteDisk lifted us from the trunk like a bag of potato chips. I writhed against the ropes but only succeeded to bringing that wicked gleam back to Jette’s eye.

“Sorry, Moonlight,” Twyst cackled malignantly, “but I don’t think you can do much about it. I just want you to know how much I am going to enjoy sharing some juicy and sweet PMs with her in a private room. Farewell!”

He flashed a cold hard stare into my eyes, then looked at his coffin nail. He threw it on the ground and rubbed it out like the idea of that slime touching Twink stepped on my heart. I vowed that even if I had to come back from the dead I would stop him.

TwystedPair looked at us thoughtfully for a moment. Then he gave us another evil grin and tipped his hat. As he turned to walk away he signaled his goon to throw us over the edge of chasm that seperates ChatWorld from out there.

Jette let out a scream that surpassed the one in the trunk and that would have woke a banshee at a barmitzvah. All started to rush by us at a tremendous pace. If the stories were true we would fall forever. Or at least it would seem like it...
Chap. 8

I struggled vainly against the ropes. All I succeeded in doing was arousing Jette. The wind that blew up her dress seemed to be heating her up too.

As I attempted to fend off her lips, I ran over any option I could think of to get out of this mess. I felt like we had as much chance as a supply-side econonmist justifying how his programs could help the poor.

Then suddenly it hit me in the face like a Spam pie. One of the powers that we flakes have is the ability to transport physical objects around ChatWorld. I had used it some, mostly as a parlor trick to increase my tips in the Tahiti. Occasionally, I employed it on a case to move a door or something.

But what I planned now was well beyond anything I had ever tried. Our only chance was if I could transport us out of the chasm. I had no idea if I could move myself, let alone a solid package like Jette, and there was no guarantee we wouldn’t come out embedded up to our knees on the side of a building.

Still, our fat was cooking with the proverbial pot roast. We had no other choice. I closed my eyes, tried to relax, allowed my mind to drift. I visualized my office. A warm soft glow surrounded me, encased me in its comfort. All started to fade. I felt the ropes slacken, and then everything went black.

*****

Twink sat at the desk in my office in an attempt to make rhyme or reason out of what I laughlingly called my books. It was late. The building was as quiet as a sixteen year old caught with his hands in his sister’s pants.

There came a slight creak from the hall, like someone was treading lightly on the floor. Twink got up from her chair and walked to the door. She put her ear to the keyhole but heard nothing. She locked the door. As she returned to the desk she heard the creak again.

Reaching for her purse and its reassuring can of pepper spray, she said in a quavering voice, “A-a-a-l is th-th-that you?”

Her only answer was a silence as deafening as a midnight stupor. Then there came the creak again. The sound stopped in front of the door, and the knob began to turn. Twink reached in her purse and took out the pepper spray. She quietly walked to the door and watched in horror as someone rattled the latch.

“W-w-w-ho’s th-th-there?” her lovely voice trembled.

Suddenly the door burst open, and RejecteDisk lumbered through, only to be greeted by a squirt of pepper spray to the face. As he fell in agony Twink started to acquaint his ribs with those pointed toed shoes she of which she was so fond. However, she failed to notice a twisted small shape slip into the room

Twinks felt a searing pain in both wrists. Her arms had been grabbed by a pair of small but surprisingly strong hands, and the nails were digging into her soft lovely arms. As she tried to break free the can of pepper spray fell from her hand and rolled across the floor.

“Well, my dear,” TwystedPair sneered, “you seem to have stopped my cohort but missed my enterance. It is a mistake you will regret and will long remember.”

“Wh-wh-what do y-y-you want? Let go of my you bad man!&#