The Long Nap or Film Noir - Re-Noir'd (c) 2013 Tobe Freddo

It's been a while since I posted anything, but after Tobe re-read Raymond Chandler's "The Big Sleep," he was inspired to write some "hardboiled detective" copy of his own.  How much of the parody he will complete is anyone's guess.  For now however, WELCOME TO

By Fillitup Merlot.

Waking up in a strange city to a foggy morning is one of those things you smell before you see.  It hits you in the kisser like a pair of panties that a girl you picked up at some dive the night before would leave on your face the next morning while you were still sleeping so you wouldn't see her rifling through the wallet you left on the chest of drawers. Yeah you wake up a little wiser, a lot more broke and with a salty caramel taste in your mouth … and a smile.  You got played. She’s gone alright, but you tell yourself, “One thing for sure, I'm keeping the panties!" 

 A note on the chest of drawers catches your eye.   It has her cheap perfume scent. You're intrigued.  You didn't know she could write. You read her scrawl. You noticed she misspelled ‘penicillin’, then you wonder what she meant by "Thanks for every little thing...."  You shrug it off, walk over to the window and push it open and let the grey roll in, stench and all.  You start to think; yeah Fog City is a lot like Lucile - thick and close to the ground.  Lucile on the other hand was nothing like her younger sister, Wendy. 

For being sisters, the only thing they had in common was that visit from “Aunt Flo” every month. Wendy tried not be home when she came, but she did anyway, an unwanted houseguest who like the proverbial fish began to stink after the third day, oddly enough like a fish.  Still Wendy was not without her charms.  She had that kind of looks and voice that made men write checks that would bounce higher than a $10 trick with a new mattress.  Her Rita Hayworth legs, Veronica Lake hair and Betty Davis eyes made her a walking movie poster with “Coming Soon” written all over.  No doubt about it, Wendy knew what she had even if she couldn’t pronounce it and whatever it was it burned and it’s what was always getting her in Dutch with her old man, General Stoner.

 It was the General that now had me waiting in his foyer. He had called my old boss, Bernie from the D.A.’s office and said he had “something to show me and he wanted me to jump on it right away.”

 I told Bernie that “I don’t swing that way”

 Bernie said “It’s business.”

 I said “Not even for money.” 

 Bernie said “It involves a girl.” 

 Hmm that got my attention.  I asked Bernie “A three way?”

 Bernie said, “No, the girl is dead.”  

 I asked “Dead, dead or is she just English?” 

 Bernie said “Both!”

 Now he really had my motor running, but before I could ask anything more Bernie said

 “Just get down here, Merlot.  The old man wants to see you at Stoner Manner on Westwood off Wilshire, next Monday at one in the afternoon.” Bernie barked “You got that, Merlot?”  

 
I barked back. “Yeah, Stoner Manner, off Wilshire.”  I started to hang up the phone, but not before I heard Bernie add:

“And bring your own papers.”

To be continued.......