The "Expletive-Deleted" Case - Entry 6

Randy’s photographic evidence detailing the magnitude of Tabitha Shinkleblossom’s sexual proclivities was embarrassingly complete, right down to the stirrups and velvet lasso; however, he was sent to find evidence of a different sort, details that could put Shinkleblossom away for fraud and attempted-murder, and what he gathered was of no help at all. Still, this case had gone far beyond what was expected when that filthy, expletive-laden note was first sent through the Lawson Detective Agency Hotline...the seemingly self-penned ransom note from a psychotic old woman had resulted in fundamental damages to my car, and Randy being unable to hold down solid foods. No, this case was taking me into the realm of vigilante-ism, and I was constructing a plan of insidiously malevolent revenge when Randy awoke from his slumber, muttering nonsense and looking stricken, as though he’d been forced to sit through a time-share seminar; I made up a batch of Mrs. Fandango’s Blightless Wormhole Manitoban Third-Eye Coffee, as that was the schizophrenic blend, and fed Randy into the blissful realm of Forget & Move On.

With his psychological problems on the backburner of his broken stove of a mind, Randy was able to help me concoct a "ransom note" in similar tone of the one we had received from Shinkleblossom; the plan was to throw her into a state of confusion by taking credit for the crime she had reported, the theft of her ivory cane, a crime almost certainly committed by her herself. Then, her mind reeling from the impossibility of the scenario we laid out, we would hit her where it hurt: Sending an unmarked van full of commandoes crashing into her secluded home, terrorizing the old lady with bayonets, tear gas, and violence heretofore unknown to the seniors community since the Great Social-Security Scam of 1996. I had just gotten on the phone with a few of my unemployed, lunatic, former South American commandant friends, when Randy pointed out that maybe, just maybe, attacking on old lady and promising what was likely full-scale suburban warfare was not all that conducive to solving the case at hand...the aforementioned missing ivory cane. While I agreed in principle, that the Lawson Detective Agency was, indeed, founded on the principle of solving cases on the cheap, it took some convincing to not barrel forward with plans to annihilate this sociopathic harlot, and this came quickly, as Randy reminded me that, if followed to the letter, my plans would not only be considered "illegal", but would also be frowned upon by the Detective Community at large.

Dammit, I thought, he’s right: Our image couldn’t take another hit like the infamous "You Didn’t Solve the Case and I Want My Ten Bucks Back" incident of two years ago...we were just coming out from under that rock, and I needed no further reminders of what that had done to our fledgling business. No, we would have to go at this Shinkleblossom with a softer touch, and I knew just how to do so. We headed to One Duke, where I would fill our bellies with bourbon and our minds with the plan.

Entry 7