13 September 2013

Happy Boid-Day


by R.T. Lawton



Somehow, I envision two broad shouldered, heavy-set guys in dark pin-striped suits standing in front of a birthday cake which is resting on a highly polished wood bar in a classy speak easy. I see candles on top of that frosted, multi-layered cake. The candles spell out two words.

The guy in the grey pin-stripe suit and matching fedora has a five o'clock shadow that has probably been there since noon. As he leans forward to light the candles, his suit coat opens far enough to divulge a glimpse of a shoulder holster containing a blue-steel Colt .45 automatic. He also keeps a tommy gun in a violin case somewhere close by.

Then the other guy in the blue pin-stripe beckons us all closer and raises his arms. I don't know what the rest of you are going to do, but I'm going to sing. And I'm going to do it loudly. He drops his hands like a philharmonic orchestra director and leads us in song with his gravelly voice and East Coast accent.
Happy Boid-Day to you
Happy Boid-Day to you
Happy Boid-Day dear Sleuth Sayers
You're now age two.

They both blow out the candles. Then one pulls a switchblade. My nerves twitch and my feet want to run, but it turns out he's only going to cut the cake. I gratefully accept my piece. There's no way I'm going to mess with either of them two guys, cuz they know what they're doing. And, I'll be doubly careful not to get crosswise with their beautiful secretary Velma.

There can be some mean streets out there in this thing of ours if a person isn't careful, so yes sirrie, boss, I'm writing as fast as I can. One more year of crime, criminals and everything that goes with it. Nothing personal, it's just good business.

Have a good one.

10 comments:

  1. Ah, it's always the violin case!
    I remember a very nervous young trooper looking at mine one day when I was on my way to the airport terminal.

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  2. RT, thanks for a great example of showing, not just telling!

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  3. Excellent piece. (Except shouldn't "business" be spelled "bid-ness?"

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  4. Oh my, that brings back a memory from high school involving mysterious violin cases and people in 1930s style suits. I may have to tell it in November...

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  5. I ain't comin to the party til them guys leaves.

    Great post.

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  6. Very funny, RT! I like that.

    Where's Velma? She would love it. Probably on the phone, adjusting her stockings, or taking a smoke break… anything to avoid typing. She really takes the cake.

    VELMA!

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  7. Yeah, yeah, big boy. Ya got the gat and I got the gams. Whacha gonna do about it? Ya just put your lips together and blow…

    … blow them away.

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  8. Caaaaaaaake! Yuuuuuuuummmmmmmm! Virtual caaaaaaake! Non-fattening!

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  9. Ah, RT, you've accomplished what I've longed for, for two years -- finding a way to write your blog, while sticking to fiction.

    Great post! Loved It!

    --Dix

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Welcome. Please feel free to comment.

Our corporate secretary is notoriously lax when it comes to comments trapped in the spam folder. It may take Velma a few days to notice, usually after digging in a bottom drawer for a packet of seamed hose, a .38, her flask, or a cigarette.

She’s also sarcastically flip-lipped, but where else can a P.I. find a gal who can wield a candlestick phone, a typewriter, and a gat all at the same time? So bear with us, we value your comment. Once she finishes her Fatima Long Gold.

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