Chapter 3

But, Anyway, Enough About Me

This is just the most fucking bestest thing in the world!

It's Pretty Misses Ingots and her fish headed old geezer pal! Friends, at last! Free moi, at once, please, you fucking bastards, where are you going with the keys, my man? Fucking apeshit I am going to be once I hit you once, twice, into the drink, my little bozo the clown me says! Now let me out of here, you bozos! It's time I be set free! Arr, me matey, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, laddie? Ain't it such a grand occasion that we be meetin' on, aren't you sure you're gonna - hey, what's that?

Is that a fucking panzerfaust in there?

No, it ain't my fucking myopia, darling. That's her! It's Exanova! Fucking dope! I have to get her back to the chancellor before oh, well! I got her picture anyway. Now I can say I'm over here, bozos! Untoward, aren't you, sirrah? Hey? Hey? Are you calling me hey, you! Mr. Eggplant Head with the runny nose and the two uptight friends and his pants that look like a hey, you, yeah, you, let me, why I oughta!

"Oh, Detective! Off him."

Oh, nice burn. "Off him.". Like, offer me a job or something? Nice! Gonna get me a whole new office and a clothing iron that works for once and a- hey, hey! What's that? Oh, you're gonna play hard to get, huh? You old softy, you, oh, you shouldn't have! Another fucking death threat and I might've started to hate you, old man, not love your daughter's a fucking slut, dude!

"What did you say!?"

Oh, you tell me, buster!

"Yeah! And so are you, kiss my arse, you incestual fuckhead!"

I was this close to bringing up the fact that he was dead certain that I couldn't ever deduce that he had been Exanova's rapist as well, but she was this close to douching it all out of her, so I had to say, this wasn't my first rodeo-clown-export-tational-family-fucking-dungeon-or-grave-robbing-rather-, did he say what I think he said?

"She's not going with you, Detective! She's going to be sacrificed to the Great God of Death, you say? What nerve! Punish the prat!"

Oh, another great burn, old man! Calling me a hippy as well? Like I'm just gonna binge eat and laze around and talk to the trees and the warbler ants and whatever, my old scrooge, you shouldn't have!

Oh, I'm just delighted, for round two. Let's see what the cat says, eh?

"And she's not my daughter. That's strange. Are you sure, Detective? I think you'd better have a closer look!"

Oh. My. God. And then it happened. He was stripping her bare! She was letting him molest her! Oh, man! This is sick! This is the sickest shit I- huh?

"Sir, I am Tiffany's mom's uncles-"

No, it wasn't gonna be like that, huh? It's gonna be a big reveal, the end to the story, but what could it all fucking mean, you freak? That you disobeyed orders and became a maid in another Frenchman's diseased eunuch's parlor study once or twice a year, abroad, or whatever, old man?

She's 21, for God's sake! Can't you just tell her the truth, old man!? She needs to know!

"Oh, my, god!" I said in fucking chains that I was, oh, is he gay too!? So he has boy's in his sex dungeon, not just his cousin-fucking sizzelf, no sirree Bob, I did not need this to be my final hour one fucking bit, you fucking rapist scoundrel cock-sucking bimbo doll having sex-slave purchasing - huh? You mean she's still underage, moron? No way, no how! I read the manual on this lame Funyun's adroit meaningless screbabble game of love-and-let-meth-chase-me-down-and-rape-me-to-the-ends-of-the-friggin'-concourse! He had a concaved willy, I knew it at that point when he frigging raped me, I-!

"She's a robot, sir. Now, let me say, good sirrah, that you have got guts, but I have all-"

"You're nonsense, old man!"

"Shut up, sirrah! Goodbye, Detective!"

"Fuck you, you old child rapist!"

"Oh, sick burn, Detective!"

"I'm not a detective, you fucking sconehead! I'm with the fucking Angel City P.D., numbnuts! And I ain't here to disown you, now am I, frigging tie me up and rape me right now!"

Instead, what they thought I'd rather do was whet my bacon stones.

He left with his lousy troubadour's and his mechanical whatchamacallit and skedaddled without the decency to tell me he was having me over for dinner later!

Hey, what's that over there? Oh, yippee ki-yay, Mister Rapist over there left me with the nutsack he was twisting and tying up! Hey, loser! Are you gonna keep that act up!? Hey, loser! Let's see here. Loser A, or retarded ex-mall cop with the comic book lounging the fuck in an easy chair and not a high chair like he should be doing this late in the fucking whatever time it was, is, or is-was gonna be was-is when it gets uh-damn-,-I-better-be-fed-if-this-is-gonna-never-frigging-stop!

My worst fears were being realized. He had done and goofed up, however.

I had the last laugh.

"Oh, Mr. Detective this and scoundrel that and Heaven's to betsy I better call you a cab, sirrah, because this shit, is, now, if I may, sirrah? Hahahaha! I'm just saying, my man, it's better to be - hey! Wakey, wakey! Huh? What's this? "Scuba Gear?""

"That's my name, baby! Oh yeah! When'd you get loose, huh, boy? Let's go tell your papa!"

Oh, Goddamn. Another one?

"Heheh, yeah, sure, good one, fella! "Scuba Gear means shit for brains, am I right, buddy mall-cop rejected twerp with whole dunder party Donner-party skydiving on his yellow -!"

"Ah heard ya, loud and clear, boy! Now bend over, Daddy's gonna whup your butt, son! Put your dukes up, honey!"

And a one, and a two, and a three, four, five?

He was out cold. Musta been the aftershave party at 12 o'clock what did the trick, eh, you lowlife?

I kicked 'em one more time and went to the cell way down the hallway, the one with the looser in the outhouse midmuffin physique. She was all tied up.

I checked and checked. We had to get out the way we came in.

Mrs. Kidnapped here and I were out in the catcher's mitt, when it hit me, I was all we need!

"Detective. Good show. Boy's, catch that rascal and save yourselves the trouble! Go in armed if you like! Beat him to a pulp, boys!"

Ouch. That's gonna hurt in the morning, you pope-impersonating rascal riding pontificatingly perverse poundhouse pissant!

"Detective! Just give us a good show, all right? And Tiffany! We're leaving. Goodbye, boyfriend! Goodbye, Detective Fucking P.D. liar! I checked! There is no Angel City P.D. Detective by the name of Peter Stormare! It's a made up name! And by the way, great Detective, that one over there is a phony, also! She's made up! A figment of my imagination! You'll never catch me, my dear man! I'm all that and a bag of sour chips, my good man! So beat me once, beat me twice, beat yourself, my dear, dear, oh, sirrah! Please! Tiffany! Young Tiffany!"

"Yes, Father?"

Oh, shit. She's gonna give me a heart attack!

"What's that, another rosebud, old man? Chop chop! "And it was three in the morning when I murdered the old scone, and at two, it was just a bite to eat!"

Oh, shit!

I got out of the old man's citadel and into the cherry wagon.

Tiffany was getting away with the old man in their limousine.

The girl I was with was tucked away. But how hard could it be?

One shot was all I needed. But she was in the fucking way. If I couldn't dig hurting her, then I couldn't-

"Detective Markin? Is that you, old Detective Markin would say, it all takes it's time, sir! Heheh! No?"

Oh, man! And now she's fucking shagging the chief of police with those, oh, dear!

They're getting away!

"And if I must, they say, time does have it's whereabouts is that, good sir?"

Is she fucking stoned? What is she saying? This chick is fucking off her rocker, boyfriend, girlfriend, oh! He was saying "Nevermind!"! Oh, shit! So he's not married to his fucking daughter's boyfriend's uncle's sister's uncle fucker who got him last week with a ballpoint pen and a nosedive into the old moneypit and now he's pissed about it? Oh, shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!

Shit!

He had gotten free of the fucking market place, that thief.

What a fucking hood rat, coma tango foxtrot in the underskirts of another dime saver!

"Detective? Can you take this thing off my head? It's hard to see what's going on while I'm still fucking what? She can't breathe? And in the same sentence as that, she said, "Detective? Aren't you fucking dense, son?"

That was all it took, she said. And now she's fucking mute.