The "Expletive-Deleted" Case - Entry 5

I was enjoying the vivacious flavour of my Lawson Detective Agency © Brand Meaty-Lasagna, one of the many varied selections off the new LDA-Approved Crime-Solving Dinner Edibles Menu, when Randy came in looking as though he had not only seen a ghost, but had been beaten up by one too; small, faint fingernail-scrapes were evident on his wrists; his golf-shirt was frivolously un-tucked and rumpled; his eyes stared off vacantly, having seemingly been jarred into submission by what he had witnessed. He was returning from a "field-trip" to Tabitha Shinkleblossom’s estate, holding an armload of documents and photographs that would hopefully bolster our case against the maniacal senior who had attacked my car just a day earlier.

I asked him how he had avoided the pick-axing that had been inflicted on my car during the earlier skirmish, and he responded with a laboured blink and a quavering voice, mumbling softly that he no longer held fear in his heart, or any emotions at all, for that matter, after the ordeal he had weathered at the hands of Shinkleblossom. I looked him over with a squint, noting that he didn’t really look all that worse for wear, and his thousand-mile eyes finally looked in my direction, betraying the depth of his psychological damage. Before he even mouthed the words, I knew: The maniac geriatric had become enamoured with Randy, and he had been exposed to what no man could have been properly prepared for in the form of a crazed, blue-haired mass of wrinkled anger wrapped in leather bondage straps.

The forever-suppressed sexual-appetite that was unloaded upon him, the realization, shame, and degradation of unrelenting old-person sex, the haunting imagery burned into the frontal lobe of the scarred mind...all this was visible in those milky, lost eyes as they rolled back into his head, leaving Randy to drop his file-folder and collapse on the unyielding cement of the office. For the first time in the Lawson Detective Agency’s history, as I stared at the face-up, thankfully black-and-white picture of Tabitha Shinkleblossom covered in whipped cream and fishnet stockings, I was speechless.

Of course, this meant war; this affront, much like Randy, would not stand.

Entry 6