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Monthly Archives: July 2017

SEA CZAR CITY, THE DAIRES, PAGE 41, THURSDAY, MARCH 23

Two days later I returned to The Whipping Post but Horace had disappeared and the house was as empty as a promise.

This morning Constable John phoned to tell me Ginny had been picked up by the side of the river, having suffered a total bank-out.

I thought I’d pop the hood and see what rattled.

Sleave McLean, The Chintzanatty Kid said the word was the Foxs were seen in the hen house at Whipping just the night before and it was no joust.

Lox, Stock and Beryl Fox ran a salvage storage in Drasticville.

Looks like they may have wanted to do a little kit and boodle inventory but the question was why?

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LOCK, STOCK AND BERYL

 

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SEA CZAR CITY, THE DAIRES. PAGE 40, STILL EVEN LATER

“Look” I said to Horace, ” I came here because I was told there was enough shots in this house to consider it holy and that they came from the both of you.”

“There was some rabbit fire this morning that just missed me by a hair.”

“Look”, I said, “I just don’t want either of you to get hurt” and I almost meant it.

“Yeah, well beat it Eggbert, you bore me” growled the old cooper, showing both barrels.

His first shot got five points for hitting the painting over my head entitled: “The Buck Stops Here”.

The second shot removed the door knob on my way out.

I got the feeling old girdle-gut didn’t truss me anymore.

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SHOWING BOTH BARRELS

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

SEA CZAR CITY, THE DIARIES, PAGE 39. LATER THAT DAY

Ginny was on the porch of The Whipping Post when my Keister came to a stoop.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the old driller,” she said.

” Listen Toots, don’t come round here trying to horn in, your band marched long ago.”

“Ginny, I’m here about Horace, where is he?”

“The old bar is in his den and your not loaded for him.”

Inside, the place looked like a Night At Baddad.

There were women on pillows thrown all about the grumpy Sulkin’.

“Looks like the shrimp boats gone”, he hoarse whispered, “and left one behind.”

“Missed you too, Horace.”

“Surprised my damp daughter let you passed the pond.

Weren’t you two enraged to get married?”

“Nope, never that mad.”

“Well you should have.

Should have taken that digit off my hands long ago.”

“Heard there was some trouble out here.”

“Well you can’t put Ginny with a gun in a room full of sweater girls and not expect her to try and hit the broad side of a yarn.”

michael lewis art

THE BEAR AND THREE GOLDIE LOOKS

 

 

 

SEA CZAR CITY, THE DIARIES, PAGE 38, MARCH 20

Ginny and I had been an item when I was hair raising and she was the Whiplash intent on catching a crop.

But I grew a part, which widened and soon there was nothing at all.

She had money and to suffer heir loss was a serious blow to my pocket.

It was not much later, I decided to be a Private Guy.

I took a correspondence course from the Continental Oops Defective Agency.

My instructor, Dashall Lammit, scored me high on Danger Recognition and the Incorporation of the Fleet Of Foot Technique.

I received the Glass Key Award which sits on my shelf next to Lammit’s memoir, “The Big Cock Up”.

Thats how I hung my shingle that became the roof over my head.

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HAIR TODAY, GONE TOMORROW

 
 
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