Post by Jeff Purse on Jul 28, 2013 16:15:45 GMT -5
“We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face... we must do that which we think we cannot.”
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It was a late and cold night. I had just got done straightening up my office. The cleaning lady had come in and moved a couple of things around, to dust. Plus, I had to clean up after her; she always leaves a little bit of grim that I feel I need to pick up. Don’t ask me why, you would never quite understand the madness behind the man. But none of that was important now, as there was a knock at the door.
Jeff: Come In.
I said, very calm, very…stoic like. She opened the door and strutted in like a beautiful…um…she was just really pretty and the way she walked made me smile. Her name wasn’t important, though it was Kari. But again, not that important. She seemed to want something…something from me. But what was it. She sat down, and looked up at me with those big…brown eyes…
Kari: Jeff, will please stop narrating? There is-
Jeff: Kari, I told you I am doing Ultimate Showdown Noire for the match. You have to play your part.
Kari: I just have a lot to do today and I don’t want to…
Jeff: come on you don’t even have a big part, you have a small little part at the beginning, so…please?
Kari: Fine…
Jeff: Alright. Anyway…where was I…Oh right…
She looked up at me with those big brown eyes. Something on her mind, I know, but what…well…she opened her beautiful mouth to ask me.
Kari: Jeff! Public…Private Investigator Jeff, I need help. Someone has stolen the W from the Ultimate Showdown Match. We need to find it before they do something vile with it!
Jeff: I don’t know. It’s been a while since my last case…
Kari Come on Jeff, I don’t have all day.
Jeff; Kari…just…please.
Kari: (sighing) You are the only one who can find who stole the W. Please P.I. Jeff?
She seemed to really want my help. It had been a while since I took a case…not since last time, when I went one on one with noted mob leader Jonny Fly. He was a tough cookie, but I decided after beating him, and cracking the case, that I would hang up my Private Investigator boots. But this beautiful girl asking me for help, well, I suppose that was the one thing that could have pulled me out of my retirement. I reached across the desk and shook the girl’s hand.
Jeff: I accept.
Kari: K great.
Jeff: Wait, Kari…we aren’t done yet.
Kari: You said it would be quick.
Jeff: M’am, who do you think could have stolen the W from The Ultimate Showdown?
Kari: Jeff come on you…
Jeff: Kari….?
Kari: Well, detective. I will tell you who I think did it. It had to have been Odin Balfore, Thomas Buckley, Polar Phantasm, Jay Price, Nathan von Liebert, or Eric Price.
I knew the names…
Kari: Can I go now?
Jeff: yes Kari, you can go now.
She got up and left, in somewhat of a huff. She was as aggravated as she was beautiful. Anyway, I knew the names. I knew them well. I have encountered each and every one of them before in my life. Odin Balfore, the old man in the retirement home. He doesn’t think he should retire, but everyone else does. Then there was Thomas Buckley, the young chap who cleans pools for a living. Polar Phantasm, my old detective partner. Jay Price, our old secretary. Nathan von Liebert, the man who shovels poop down at the carnival. And of course, Eric Price, owner of EPPW, and famous douche bag. I had to start somewhere, though, and my first lead was Odin Balfore. I grabbed up my keys, and I grabbed up my cool Noire style hat that I bought specifically for this, and headed out the door, after putting on my trench coats. Trench Coats are awesome.
I jump in my pitch black Lincoln Navigator. It’s a great vehicle. I had it customized to have a lot of boom boom and a lot of vroom vroom. I drove down the highway, to the city. I had to go to the Old folk’s home to talk to Odin Balfore. I was a bit excited to see him, I hadn’t in a while. Nobody had actually seen him in a while. Nobody really cared that he had sort of dropped off the face of the earth. But I cared. For now, at least for this part. I pulled up to the Old folk’s home and walked in. The girl at the front desk was young, pretty, but had no idea what was going on.
Girl at Desk: I am sorry, what was that?
Jeff Purse: I am here to see Odin Balfore.
Girl at Desk: Ok, are you his…grandson?
Jeff Purse: I am actually here about a theft.
Girl at Desk: I am sorry to hear…um…we don’t have a patient here with that name.
Jeff Purse: Um, sure you do.
I could tell she was lying; she was covering for the old man. I-
Girl at Desk: Sir, who are you talking to?
Jeff Purse: I…look I am a wrestler for the WCF, and I am doing something here because of a match I have coming up. Can you just say, oh, Balfore, room 11D.
Girl at Desk: What?
Jeff Purse: Say that and I leave.
Girl at Desk:…
She told me it was room 11D. Then she sent her goons after me. Two guys dressed in white. She kept calling them security, but I know goons when I see goons. They ‘escorted’ me out. Of course they would, they were working for Odin. He was an old guy, but he was also a pain in the ass. And a bad guy. He was just the person who would have stolen the W. I snuck in the back, and made my way to his room, 11D, and found him lying in his bed, on his last breath.
“Odin Balfore”: (Jeff dressed up as Odin. In this part, the camera cuts back and forth from Jeff and ‘Odin’) Hack, cough, HACK! Well, well, well, if it isn’t Jeff Purse. The best private detective this side of the Mississippi.
Jeff Purse: Odin, you ignorant slut, WHERE IS THE W?
“Odin Balfore”: I don’t know what you are talking about young man. I am not strong enough to steal the W.
Jeff Purse: Don’t be silly, you are super old and fat, but you are still a big guy.
“Odin Balfore”: It’s just how it seems, Jeff. Of course, we all know that not everything is like it seems.
Jeff Purse: What?
“Odin Balfore”: What?
Jeff Purse: What did you just say? That doesn’t make any kind of sense.
“Odin Balfore”: Jeff, I am old. Nothing I say makes any kind of sense. HACK COUGH HACK.
Jeff Purse: Right…DAMN! So, you have no…nothing that I can use?
“Odin Balfore”:…
He passed out after that. Apparently, old Balfore can’t stay awake longer than ten minutes even to talk to someone as amazing as I am. Oh well, I left quickly, as the goons were coming back. I decided to visit my old nemesis, the man who dug shit, the man only known as Nathan von Liebert. Well, sometimes he went by the name Vlad. But that’s only if he saw blood. Don’t ask me how that made any sense what so ever, because I don’t know how either. I do have the distinction though, of bring Vlad out of Nathan with words alone. Apparently, I piss Nathan off enough to really bug him enough to make him pull his alter ego out. I had to be careful; I didn’t want to cause any trouble or drama at the carnival. I…uh…shit the carnival left town. Um…I mean…while the carnival wasn’t in town, the porta johns were, and that’s where he worked anyway, down in those holes…shoveling shit. That’s also where he lived. I walked up, and before I could even say anything, he began threatening me.
“NvL”: (Jeff paid someone to attach a recording of him being Nathan in the hole.) What do you want Jeff Purse. Can’t you see I am busy here? I am trying to make dinner.
Jeff Purse: What do you mean Liebert? Trying to make dinner in a shithole?
“NvL”: That’s right. I am going to have poopdogs for dinner. You want to one? I have one here with an exceptional amount...urgh….amount…ugh… (Jeff on the recording is making himself sick; he stops and takes a deep breath.) an exceptional amount of corn.
Jeff Purse: NvL, that is disgusting. I want to know what you did with the W. Where is it?
“NvL”: I don’t have the W, I could never have the W. I am not skilled enough to steal the W. I will stay here and shovel shit for the rest of my life Jeff, because I have no other chance at any kind of success whatsoever.
Jeff Purse: Damn it NvL. Take a shower.
“NvL”: Shut up. Me and my hand are going to have fun tonight.
Jeff Purse: Whatever. I don’t care about you.
I left to the sounds of Nathan von Liebert throwing up. Mostly because he was thinking about porta potties and poop. That stuff is gross, though, and I am going to stop talking about it before I throw up again. I was getting nowhere and fast. I had to find the missing W. I figured I would go with a friendly face; I would visit my old secretary, Jay Price. He was busy, of course, playing with his camel when I pulled up. His camel was the Geico Hump Day commercial. I know, it’s pretty awesome, huh? Anyway, I approached him, he was drunk…that’s one of the reasons we had to let him go. He got drunk a lot. His eyes were somewhat glazed over, which is how I could tell.
Camel: HUMP DAYYYYYY!
That camel could be obnoxious, but it-
Jay Price: JEFF, Me and the camel are going to go swimming in the river, you want to come?
Jeff Purse: No, I am doing the Noire thing…remember, I sent you a script.
Jay Price: Oh…yeah I decided to fuck that and go swimming instead. Come on Camel!
Camel: HUMP DAYYYY!!! YEAH!!!!
They went riding off into the sunset. Jay was supposed to say that he was mad that he got fired, and he was supposed to give the clue of seeing Thomas Buckley poking his head around the W, however, Jay decided to get drunk and go swimming in some river. Who knows what river he was talking about; there is a ton of rivers in this area. And camels can’t swim anyway. I don’t know why he thought that was a good route to go, but hey, it’s going to be hard for him to pull a camel out of the river. Though he may get it done. That’s Jay Price for you though, incompetent and loveable, all at the same time. Anyway, I was midway on my way to see Thomas Buckley, when Thomas Buckley gave me a call on the telephone. I was a bit suspicious, but I answered anyway. It couldn’t have been Buckley; he was too green, he wasn’t going to blow an opportunity like that just for a W. Or would he? The phone rang again, because I was talking so much that it went to voicemail. I answered.
Jeff Purse: Hello, BUCKLEY!
FPV: Hey Boudle.
Jeff Purse: No, he doesn’t say Boudle.
FPV: Oh, right, sorry…hey don’t I get quotes.
Jeff Purse: Sorry, but once you do it right you can have them. Anyway, So Buckley, what have you got for me?
“Thomas Buckley”: So Jeff, you think you are so smart? You think you know who took the W? Well, let me tell you, I DIDN’T DO IT! But I do know something about it.
Jeff Purse: What?
“Thomas Buckley”: Information isn’t cheap.
Jeff Purse: I don’t think someone with only two wins has the right to throw his weight around.
“Thomas Buckley”: You know that’s not very nice.
Jeff Purse: Shut up. Stop being a fan boy and start being a man. Tell me what you know or I will beat your ass super good at Ultimate Showdown!
“Thomas Buckley”: Sounds good. There is someone you may not have expected to have stolen it. The Priest, Steeltoe Joe. He likes stealing things…like verses from the bible. Though he has no real talent whatsoever.
Jeff Purse: Those are some big words for a little man Buckley, are you sure about that?
“Thomas Buckley”: Yeah…Jeff you have really shitty hand writing.
Jeff Purse: Damn it Frank, just do your best!
“Thomas Buckley”: Ok…um…Steeltoe Joe is the losers pasture. He likes-
Jeff Purse: Pastor. He is the loser’s pastor.
“Thomas Buckley”: That makes more sense. If you knew how to write then...
Jeff Purse: Just…skip…skip to the end ok?
“Thomas Buckley”: Ok. Oh, you know what, never mind, Steeltoe Joe has no drive or heart. He would never steal the W, because he has so many L’s to keep him…um…cannon.
Jeff Purse: Cannon? Come on man that says company.
“Thomas Buckley”: Well next time have Kari write your damn script. She has great hand writing.
Jeff Purse: Fine…good bye Frank.
FPV: PEACE!
I hung up the phone. He was always the most difficult of people to deal with. That only left two other possible suspects who could have stolen the W. Eric Price, or Polar Phantasm. I wonder which one it could have been. The evil, corporate tycoon or my old detective partner. I decided to visit the offices of EPPW; I had to get to the bottom of this. I had to find out what Eric Price did with the W. I didn’t think that my old partner, Polar, could do such a vile thing and steal a W. I rolled up to EPPW headquarters, formerly the much better WCF headquarters. Steve Orbit, an undercover detective who works as a pimp, showed me the back door of this place. It’s easy to get in. See, it opens really easily.
Security: Hey, what are you doing?
Shit, the goons are back. I run down the hall, dodging working employees. There is a man with a giant stack of papers. You never really get this chance ever, I had to do it. I ran into him. The papers went flying up in a crazy paper cloud, just like it does in the movies. It was magical. The goon also tripped over the paper guy, so…win win for me. I found the office of Eric Price. It was more like a storage closet with a paper sign that said Eric Price. I kicked the door down, and inside…there…was…where the hell is he? Steve? Steve? Oh, he appeared at the door, wiping doughnut powder off of his face.
Steve Orbit: Sorry, I got hungry.
Jeff Purse: Steve…you are Eric remember?
“Eric Price”: Oh right…um…HOW DARE YOU BURST IN MY OFFICE JEFF PURSE! I should have you arrested for not showing me the proper respect
Jeff Purse: Eric Price, you ignorant slut. Tell me where the W is!
“Eric Price”: But…you already used that line on Old man Odin.
Jeff Purse: That’s right nigga.
Steve Orbit: Watch it.
Jeff Purse: Sorry. Anyway. How did you know I called him an ignorant slut?
“Eric Price”: I monitor everything that goes on around here. I am the all knowing, all respectable, all peeing, Eric Price.
Jeff Purse: Nice. Did you add the all peeing part? I mean, um…Shut up I will ask the questions. Did you steal the W, Eric?
“Eric Price”: No. You know as well as I do that I have stolen many a W in my day, but not this one.
Jeff Purse: Damn it. I hate you Eric.
I got up and ran out, slamming the door behind me. I did that out of disrespect, actually. He was always running around demanding that people respect him, but fuck that guy. Anyway, that only left one possible person. My ex partner. It was incredible, to me, that it was him who did this. He was the only one left. I had deducted that it couldn’t be Odin Balfore, he is the worst. He is old and useless. He struggles to stay alive, but he is going to die soon. I decided it couldn’t be Nathan von Liebert because he is a smelly nobody. He tries really hard to stay current, even though he has nothing to cling to.
He gets lucky sometimes, however, his luck gets worn out fast. It couldn’t be Jay Price, because…well if he would have stuck to the script you would have heard how Jay just doesn’t want it enough. It couldn’t be Thomas Buckley; there is no way he could pull such a thing off. Of course, the information he gave me about Steeltoe Joe keeps that guy out of the running of people who had the fortitude to steal the W. It wasn’t Eric Price; he is just a little bitch. Which meant one thing…it had to be Polar Phantasm. I drove to find him…in his office…at Cryogenix Hq. I knocked on his door, and a slow, creepy, come in came from the other side. I walked in…and there he was….sitting in at his desk…..grinning…
Polar Phantasm: Hello, Mr. Purse.
Jeff Purse: Why did you do it, Polar?
Polar Phantasm: I didn’t do anything, Mr. Purse. I have been sitting here all day.
Jeff Purse: Yeah, thinking about the future, huh?
Polar Phantasm: Don’t be so egotistical Jeff. (A small smile) No, I was thinking about our future. We should partner up again. Be the best damn Detective team this side of the Mississippi.
Jeff Purse: No, I have to find out who stole the W first.
Polar Phantasm: Jeff…you don’t know.
Jeff Purse: No, I am trying to figure it out. All the clues point to you…
Polar Phantasm: No, that’s…not…all the clues point to you, Jeff.
Jeff Purse: What?
Polar Phantasm: That’s right Jeff all the signs point to you…You stole the W from the Ultimate Showdown Match.
Jeff Purse: NO, NO, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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The scene opens to Jeff sitting at his desk in his office again. He is smiling.
Jeff Purse: Yes, that was a skit I put together, I call it Ultimate Showdown Noire. Ha. I hope you realize what I was trying to get at. The W in the Ultimate Showdown match it mine and mine alone. I will stop at nothing to get that win, and everyone in the match better watch themselves. I am not someone who goes down easily. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go prepare for my match.
The scene fades to black.
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It was a late and cold night. I had just got done straightening up my office. The cleaning lady had come in and moved a couple of things around, to dust. Plus, I had to clean up after her; she always leaves a little bit of grim that I feel I need to pick up. Don’t ask me why, you would never quite understand the madness behind the man. But none of that was important now, as there was a knock at the door.
Jeff: Come In.
I said, very calm, very…stoic like. She opened the door and strutted in like a beautiful…um…she was just really pretty and the way she walked made me smile. Her name wasn’t important, though it was Kari. But again, not that important. She seemed to want something…something from me. But what was it. She sat down, and looked up at me with those big…brown eyes…
Kari: Jeff, will please stop narrating? There is-
Jeff: Kari, I told you I am doing Ultimate Showdown Noire for the match. You have to play your part.
Kari: I just have a lot to do today and I don’t want to…
Jeff: come on you don’t even have a big part, you have a small little part at the beginning, so…please?
Kari: Fine…
Jeff: Alright. Anyway…where was I…Oh right…
She looked up at me with those big brown eyes. Something on her mind, I know, but what…well…she opened her beautiful mouth to ask me.
Kari: Jeff! Public…Private Investigator Jeff, I need help. Someone has stolen the W from the Ultimate Showdown Match. We need to find it before they do something vile with it!
Jeff: I don’t know. It’s been a while since my last case…
Kari Come on Jeff, I don’t have all day.
Jeff; Kari…just…please.
Kari: (sighing) You are the only one who can find who stole the W. Please P.I. Jeff?
She seemed to really want my help. It had been a while since I took a case…not since last time, when I went one on one with noted mob leader Jonny Fly. He was a tough cookie, but I decided after beating him, and cracking the case, that I would hang up my Private Investigator boots. But this beautiful girl asking me for help, well, I suppose that was the one thing that could have pulled me out of my retirement. I reached across the desk and shook the girl’s hand.
Jeff: I accept.
Kari: K great.
Jeff: Wait, Kari…we aren’t done yet.
Kari: You said it would be quick.
Jeff: M’am, who do you think could have stolen the W from The Ultimate Showdown?
Kari: Jeff come on you…
Jeff: Kari….?
Kari: Well, detective. I will tell you who I think did it. It had to have been Odin Balfore, Thomas Buckley, Polar Phantasm, Jay Price, Nathan von Liebert, or Eric Price.
I knew the names…
Kari: Can I go now?
Jeff: yes Kari, you can go now.
She got up and left, in somewhat of a huff. She was as aggravated as she was beautiful. Anyway, I knew the names. I knew them well. I have encountered each and every one of them before in my life. Odin Balfore, the old man in the retirement home. He doesn’t think he should retire, but everyone else does. Then there was Thomas Buckley, the young chap who cleans pools for a living. Polar Phantasm, my old detective partner. Jay Price, our old secretary. Nathan von Liebert, the man who shovels poop down at the carnival. And of course, Eric Price, owner of EPPW, and famous douche bag. I had to start somewhere, though, and my first lead was Odin Balfore. I grabbed up my keys, and I grabbed up my cool Noire style hat that I bought specifically for this, and headed out the door, after putting on my trench coats. Trench Coats are awesome.
I jump in my pitch black Lincoln Navigator. It’s a great vehicle. I had it customized to have a lot of boom boom and a lot of vroom vroom. I drove down the highway, to the city. I had to go to the Old folk’s home to talk to Odin Balfore. I was a bit excited to see him, I hadn’t in a while. Nobody had actually seen him in a while. Nobody really cared that he had sort of dropped off the face of the earth. But I cared. For now, at least for this part. I pulled up to the Old folk’s home and walked in. The girl at the front desk was young, pretty, but had no idea what was going on.
Girl at Desk: I am sorry, what was that?
Jeff Purse: I am here to see Odin Balfore.
Girl at Desk: Ok, are you his…grandson?
Jeff Purse: I am actually here about a theft.
Girl at Desk: I am sorry to hear…um…we don’t have a patient here with that name.
Jeff Purse: Um, sure you do.
I could tell she was lying; she was covering for the old man. I-
Girl at Desk: Sir, who are you talking to?
Jeff Purse: I…look I am a wrestler for the WCF, and I am doing something here because of a match I have coming up. Can you just say, oh, Balfore, room 11D.
Girl at Desk: What?
Jeff Purse: Say that and I leave.
Girl at Desk:…
She told me it was room 11D. Then she sent her goons after me. Two guys dressed in white. She kept calling them security, but I know goons when I see goons. They ‘escorted’ me out. Of course they would, they were working for Odin. He was an old guy, but he was also a pain in the ass. And a bad guy. He was just the person who would have stolen the W. I snuck in the back, and made my way to his room, 11D, and found him lying in his bed, on his last breath.
“Odin Balfore”: (Jeff dressed up as Odin. In this part, the camera cuts back and forth from Jeff and ‘Odin’) Hack, cough, HACK! Well, well, well, if it isn’t Jeff Purse. The best private detective this side of the Mississippi.
Jeff Purse: Odin, you ignorant slut, WHERE IS THE W?
“Odin Balfore”: I don’t know what you are talking about young man. I am not strong enough to steal the W.
Jeff Purse: Don’t be silly, you are super old and fat, but you are still a big guy.
“Odin Balfore”: It’s just how it seems, Jeff. Of course, we all know that not everything is like it seems.
Jeff Purse: What?
“Odin Balfore”: What?
Jeff Purse: What did you just say? That doesn’t make any kind of sense.
“Odin Balfore”: Jeff, I am old. Nothing I say makes any kind of sense. HACK COUGH HACK.
Jeff Purse: Right…DAMN! So, you have no…nothing that I can use?
“Odin Balfore”:…
He passed out after that. Apparently, old Balfore can’t stay awake longer than ten minutes even to talk to someone as amazing as I am. Oh well, I left quickly, as the goons were coming back. I decided to visit my old nemesis, the man who dug shit, the man only known as Nathan von Liebert. Well, sometimes he went by the name Vlad. But that’s only if he saw blood. Don’t ask me how that made any sense what so ever, because I don’t know how either. I do have the distinction though, of bring Vlad out of Nathan with words alone. Apparently, I piss Nathan off enough to really bug him enough to make him pull his alter ego out. I had to be careful; I didn’t want to cause any trouble or drama at the carnival. I…uh…shit the carnival left town. Um…I mean…while the carnival wasn’t in town, the porta johns were, and that’s where he worked anyway, down in those holes…shoveling shit. That’s also where he lived. I walked up, and before I could even say anything, he began threatening me.
“NvL”: (Jeff paid someone to attach a recording of him being Nathan in the hole.) What do you want Jeff Purse. Can’t you see I am busy here? I am trying to make dinner.
Jeff Purse: What do you mean Liebert? Trying to make dinner in a shithole?
“NvL”: That’s right. I am going to have poopdogs for dinner. You want to one? I have one here with an exceptional amount...urgh….amount…ugh… (Jeff on the recording is making himself sick; he stops and takes a deep breath.) an exceptional amount of corn.
Jeff Purse: NvL, that is disgusting. I want to know what you did with the W. Where is it?
“NvL”: I don’t have the W, I could never have the W. I am not skilled enough to steal the W. I will stay here and shovel shit for the rest of my life Jeff, because I have no other chance at any kind of success whatsoever.
Jeff Purse: Damn it NvL. Take a shower.
“NvL”: Shut up. Me and my hand are going to have fun tonight.
Jeff Purse: Whatever. I don’t care about you.
I left to the sounds of Nathan von Liebert throwing up. Mostly because he was thinking about porta potties and poop. That stuff is gross, though, and I am going to stop talking about it before I throw up again. I was getting nowhere and fast. I had to find the missing W. I figured I would go with a friendly face; I would visit my old secretary, Jay Price. He was busy, of course, playing with his camel when I pulled up. His camel was the Geico Hump Day commercial. I know, it’s pretty awesome, huh? Anyway, I approached him, he was drunk…that’s one of the reasons we had to let him go. He got drunk a lot. His eyes were somewhat glazed over, which is how I could tell.
Camel: HUMP DAYYYYYY!
That camel could be obnoxious, but it-
Jay Price: JEFF, Me and the camel are going to go swimming in the river, you want to come?
Jeff Purse: No, I am doing the Noire thing…remember, I sent you a script.
Jay Price: Oh…yeah I decided to fuck that and go swimming instead. Come on Camel!
Camel: HUMP DAYYYY!!! YEAH!!!!
They went riding off into the sunset. Jay was supposed to say that he was mad that he got fired, and he was supposed to give the clue of seeing Thomas Buckley poking his head around the W, however, Jay decided to get drunk and go swimming in some river. Who knows what river he was talking about; there is a ton of rivers in this area. And camels can’t swim anyway. I don’t know why he thought that was a good route to go, but hey, it’s going to be hard for him to pull a camel out of the river. Though he may get it done. That’s Jay Price for you though, incompetent and loveable, all at the same time. Anyway, I was midway on my way to see Thomas Buckley, when Thomas Buckley gave me a call on the telephone. I was a bit suspicious, but I answered anyway. It couldn’t have been Buckley; he was too green, he wasn’t going to blow an opportunity like that just for a W. Or would he? The phone rang again, because I was talking so much that it went to voicemail. I answered.
Jeff Purse: Hello, BUCKLEY!
FPV: Hey Boudle.
Jeff Purse: No, he doesn’t say Boudle.
FPV: Oh, right, sorry…hey don’t I get quotes.
Jeff Purse: Sorry, but once you do it right you can have them. Anyway, So Buckley, what have you got for me?
“Thomas Buckley”: So Jeff, you think you are so smart? You think you know who took the W? Well, let me tell you, I DIDN’T DO IT! But I do know something about it.
Jeff Purse: What?
“Thomas Buckley”: Information isn’t cheap.
Jeff Purse: I don’t think someone with only two wins has the right to throw his weight around.
“Thomas Buckley”: You know that’s not very nice.
Jeff Purse: Shut up. Stop being a fan boy and start being a man. Tell me what you know or I will beat your ass super good at Ultimate Showdown!
“Thomas Buckley”: Sounds good. There is someone you may not have expected to have stolen it. The Priest, Steeltoe Joe. He likes stealing things…like verses from the bible. Though he has no real talent whatsoever.
Jeff Purse: Those are some big words for a little man Buckley, are you sure about that?
“Thomas Buckley”: Yeah…Jeff you have really shitty hand writing.
Jeff Purse: Damn it Frank, just do your best!
“Thomas Buckley”: Ok…um…Steeltoe Joe is the losers pasture. He likes-
Jeff Purse: Pastor. He is the loser’s pastor.
“Thomas Buckley”: That makes more sense. If you knew how to write then...
Jeff Purse: Just…skip…skip to the end ok?
“Thomas Buckley”: Ok. Oh, you know what, never mind, Steeltoe Joe has no drive or heart. He would never steal the W, because he has so many L’s to keep him…um…cannon.
Jeff Purse: Cannon? Come on man that says company.
“Thomas Buckley”: Well next time have Kari write your damn script. She has great hand writing.
Jeff Purse: Fine…good bye Frank.
FPV: PEACE!
I hung up the phone. He was always the most difficult of people to deal with. That only left two other possible suspects who could have stolen the W. Eric Price, or Polar Phantasm. I wonder which one it could have been. The evil, corporate tycoon or my old detective partner. I decided to visit the offices of EPPW; I had to get to the bottom of this. I had to find out what Eric Price did with the W. I didn’t think that my old partner, Polar, could do such a vile thing and steal a W. I rolled up to EPPW headquarters, formerly the much better WCF headquarters. Steve Orbit, an undercover detective who works as a pimp, showed me the back door of this place. It’s easy to get in. See, it opens really easily.
Security: Hey, what are you doing?
Shit, the goons are back. I run down the hall, dodging working employees. There is a man with a giant stack of papers. You never really get this chance ever, I had to do it. I ran into him. The papers went flying up in a crazy paper cloud, just like it does in the movies. It was magical. The goon also tripped over the paper guy, so…win win for me. I found the office of Eric Price. It was more like a storage closet with a paper sign that said Eric Price. I kicked the door down, and inside…there…was…where the hell is he? Steve? Steve? Oh, he appeared at the door, wiping doughnut powder off of his face.
Steve Orbit: Sorry, I got hungry.
Jeff Purse: Steve…you are Eric remember?
“Eric Price”: Oh right…um…HOW DARE YOU BURST IN MY OFFICE JEFF PURSE! I should have you arrested for not showing me the proper respect
Jeff Purse: Eric Price, you ignorant slut. Tell me where the W is!
“Eric Price”: But…you already used that line on Old man Odin.
Jeff Purse: That’s right nigga.
Steve Orbit: Watch it.
Jeff Purse: Sorry. Anyway. How did you know I called him an ignorant slut?
“Eric Price”: I monitor everything that goes on around here. I am the all knowing, all respectable, all peeing, Eric Price.
Jeff Purse: Nice. Did you add the all peeing part? I mean, um…Shut up I will ask the questions. Did you steal the W, Eric?
“Eric Price”: No. You know as well as I do that I have stolen many a W in my day, but not this one.
Jeff Purse: Damn it. I hate you Eric.
I got up and ran out, slamming the door behind me. I did that out of disrespect, actually. He was always running around demanding that people respect him, but fuck that guy. Anyway, that only left one possible person. My ex partner. It was incredible, to me, that it was him who did this. He was the only one left. I had deducted that it couldn’t be Odin Balfore, he is the worst. He is old and useless. He struggles to stay alive, but he is going to die soon. I decided it couldn’t be Nathan von Liebert because he is a smelly nobody. He tries really hard to stay current, even though he has nothing to cling to.
He gets lucky sometimes, however, his luck gets worn out fast. It couldn’t be Jay Price, because…well if he would have stuck to the script you would have heard how Jay just doesn’t want it enough. It couldn’t be Thomas Buckley; there is no way he could pull such a thing off. Of course, the information he gave me about Steeltoe Joe keeps that guy out of the running of people who had the fortitude to steal the W. It wasn’t Eric Price; he is just a little bitch. Which meant one thing…it had to be Polar Phantasm. I drove to find him…in his office…at Cryogenix Hq. I knocked on his door, and a slow, creepy, come in came from the other side. I walked in…and there he was….sitting in at his desk…..grinning…
Polar Phantasm: Hello, Mr. Purse.
Jeff Purse: Why did you do it, Polar?
Polar Phantasm: I didn’t do anything, Mr. Purse. I have been sitting here all day.
Jeff Purse: Yeah, thinking about the future, huh?
Polar Phantasm: Don’t be so egotistical Jeff. (A small smile) No, I was thinking about our future. We should partner up again. Be the best damn Detective team this side of the Mississippi.
Jeff Purse: No, I have to find out who stole the W first.
Polar Phantasm: Jeff…you don’t know.
Jeff Purse: No, I am trying to figure it out. All the clues point to you…
Polar Phantasm: No, that’s…not…all the clues point to you, Jeff.
Jeff Purse: What?
Polar Phantasm: That’s right Jeff all the signs point to you…You stole the W from the Ultimate Showdown Match.
Jeff Purse: NO, NO, NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The scene opens to Jeff sitting at his desk in his office again. He is smiling.
Jeff Purse: Yes, that was a skit I put together, I call it Ultimate Showdown Noire. Ha. I hope you realize what I was trying to get at. The W in the Ultimate Showdown match it mine and mine alone. I will stop at nothing to get that win, and everyone in the match better watch themselves. I am not someone who goes down easily. Now if you will excuse me, I have to go prepare for my match.
The scene fades to black.
