Snowed - A Craven Danger Mystery
By hudsonmoon
- 753 reads
“It says here it’s the biggest blizzard ever!” said Craven. “Even bigger than the biggest one before that! And that was pretty darn big, Betty.”
“If I had a nickel for every time I heard that I’d be buried under a pile a nickels as big as an iceberg. Bigger even than the one that got in the way of the Titanic when it made its maddening voyage.”
“You mean maiden voyage.”
“Says who? I say if ya take a boat an’ put that boat in an ocean that's ninety nine percent water and one one percent iceberg, and said boat meets up with said iceberg then ya got maddenin’ voyage written all over ya poop deck. And ta get back ta this blizzard business, Mr. Danger, I don’t think the weather is some kinda contest ta be judged and given medals to. It’s gonna do what it does whether anyone likes it or not. I say leave it alone. Ya get up in the morning, ya stick ya head out the window and ya figure it out in two seconds. Hot. Cold. Rain. Snow. Ya don’t need a head like Einstein ta tell ya ta close the darn window, ya lettin’ all the heat out!”
“Good point,” said Craven.
“I was talkin’ ta you, Mr. Danger. It’s freezin’ in here! Please close the darn window. I'm gettin' goose bumps on my lambs wool mittens. Now, what’s the idea?”
“I was lookin' for my pigeons.”
“What pigeons?”
“My carrier pigeons, Betty. Since business ain’t been doing too good here at the Double Danger Detective Agency, I figured I’d save us a ton of dough by cutting back on some expenses. The phone, for instance. So, instead of picking up the phone and dropping a dime to call the bill collectors, I stuck a reason-for-non-payment note on the backs of all the pigeons and sent them to all the folks we owe dough to. I made about a dozen pigeon calls about a week ago, but I ain't heard back from the pigeons yet."
"These pigeons a yours, Mr. Danger."
"Yeah, Betty?"
"They know where they're goin'?"
"Sure they do, Betty. I trained them myself."
"Yeah? And who the heck trained you?"
"Jimmy, the old booze hound pigeon guy who lived on the roof with his pigeons. He told me that the Florida sun had his name on it and he was ready to come down from the roof and dig his toes in the sand before he died with his head in a bucket of bird feed. So we cut a deal. He gives me the pigeons and a map and I get him a one-way bus ticket to Miami Beach. I had to sell my stamp collection to get it, but I couldn't turn down a deal like that."
"Map?"
"Yeah, Betty. He said all I had to do was show the pigeons where I wanted them to go and they'd get there. So I give him the bus ticket and he gives me the map."
"Was he laughlin' when he give you the map? Or did he do it with a straight face."
"Oh, it was all very business-like, Betty."
"So this bum's in Miami Beach hustlin' the locals and we're stuck here with the filthy birds?"
"Oh, he never did make it to Miami."
"Ya mean he's still on the roof?"
"He made it off the roof all right, Betty, but it wasn't easy. He was chasing a pigeon that didn't want to be chased. And them that saw him fall say he actually flapped his arms on the way down to the pavement."
"Ya know, Mr. Danger, maybe you should go down to the bus station and get us another bus ticket to Miami Beach. I need to put that brain a yours on defrost."
"Can we afford it?"
"We can't afford not to. It's either you brain or my wits. We can't lose both."
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Comments
must be all that snow
must be all that snow affecting Double Danger's brain. I'm sure he gets those bird-brained ideas from booze hounds that have done bird. Nuff said. A story that flies and flaps and the main characters fres. Ouch.
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Yer wrote it good Mr Danger
Yer wrote it good Mr Danger creator... So easy to read. Keep takin' the tablets.
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Thrilled to see Craven neck
Thrilled to see Craven neck deep in snow with a filthy pigeon. Quirky as ever. I'll keep writing if you do.
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