Just in time. A man in a Jos. A. Bank suit holds a spatula as he speeds off into the night. A nigger under the street light has a turd stain down the back of her Charlotte Hornet's starter jacket. Even Detective Pensive down at station could unravel this mystery. The bastard.

"Christ... this city," I mumble. A festering pile, but it's my festering pile.

I reach for my tumbler on the desk, then raise the glass to my nose. My muscle milk has turned. I flex my lats. I haven't had a dead lift in over two weeks, and if I don't get another case soon, it's gonne be three.

"Fuck it." I down the protein-rich chunks. I can feel it surge down my rippling back. Did I just orgasm?

"Mr. Spackler?" The hired help. Though she's barely hired and even less help.

"Yes, Miss Hizzla?"

"Someone's here to see you."

"Send 'em in."

"One more thing."

"What?"

"Fuck you."

The smoke hanging in the room parted as the door swung open. One long leg after another steps in. A dame.

"Detective Spackler?" Her lips quiver.

I laugh. "It's just Mr. Spackler now. Didn't you read the sticky."

"Oh, no. I'm sorry."

"No problem. Myoplex?" I head over to the bar. I already know I'm going to need all the help I can get with this broad.

"No thank you. Detective...Mr. Spackler?"

"What?"

"My name is J.. And I, I, I think I'm going to be outed."

A stifled chuckle leaves my lips before I down the chocolate treat.

"Lady, not a week goes by that some broad doesn't come in here claiming they're gonna be outed. If I had 1% less body fat for..."

"No, Mr. Spackler. I have a list! Right here!" She rips out a piece of paper from her clutch.

"Sorry lady."

"I can pay! I have a gym! It's open all night, Mr. Spackler. Yours for the using. For, for, three months."

"Seven months."

She hesitates. Then, she nods.

"Let me see that list." I take a look at the notes. Real official looking stuff. A print log from XO Java. The same shit I've seen thousands of time before.

"Lady..."

"No! Mr. Spackler! Just, just read that last line!"

Christ. Persistant little thing. I scroll down, and, I can't hardly believe my eyes.

::Mayor Rachmiel - Let's out that bitch. Two weeks.::

::Detective Pensive - On it boss.::

I pour another Myoplex quick and slam it down. Nerves. The same thing that got me kicked off the force.

"Shit... Lady, you better have one hell of a fucking gym."

Spackler, what have you got yourself into...

TO BE CONTINUED?

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1065658&forum_id=2#12527300)

I stepped into the station house. There he was, right where I left him, riding the pine at the intake desk.

"Officer Radek," I say.

"What."

"Get me Detective Pensive."

"What."

Like talking to a wall. "Is that anyway to treat your old buddy?" I grab his collar and jerk him to his feet. "GET. ME. DETECTIVE. PENSIVE!"

I drop him back to his chair. He takes a second to gather himself.

"No u."

Fuck it. I stroll down the hall. The janitor just started scraping my name off of the door.

"Hey. Who's going in?"

"They just promoted Officer To Be Fair."

Great. No matter if I do expose this, this city is still going to be flushed down the tubes. Oh well. This might just have to be a two flusher. I burst into Detective Pensive's office. The foul reak of whores from chinatown.

"Well, well, well. Thought we'd be running into each other." He says, polishing his badge.

"Spare me the pleasantries. J. Outing. I know you're involved."

"You don't know heroic women from Blue Smoke. Detective. Oh, I'm sorry, I mean, CARL."

I hold back from shoving my fist up his urethra.

"Listen asshole. Rach is going down. You want to anchor to his ship or you want to give me some information, and maybe I look the other way while you skip town?"

He doesn't respond. He just keeps polishing that badge, like a faggot.

"I'll fucking murder you, dood."

"There goes those nerves again, Carl. Shit. You were a good lifter, too."

"Still a good lifter."

"Whatever. J.? Ha. Bitch came to me weeks before you were in on this. You know who wanted her dead? EVERYONE!"

"What?"

"You heard me. She hated everything. Insufferable. Not heroic. There are thousands of people who would want her outed."

"Yeah, then why do I have this XO Java print out, Pensive? Huh?"

I throw it down on the table. He reads it over.

"Jesus."

"You're up shit creek now, detective."

He throws back his juice box of Ecto cooler, and sucks it down. Sucks it down hard.

"Carl...I gave away the password to this moniker."

I get hit in the stomach like a ton of fat chick monikers.

"What?"

"Fuck."

"To who?"

"Spackler...this shit goes deep. Deeper than I ever thought."

"Who!?"

"It's...Chief Whokebe."

I scoff.

"Fuck you, man," I say.

He looks me in the eye.

"Carl. It's Chief Whokebe. You're the only one I can trust."

And I hadn't even got to use the pec-deck yet.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1065658&forum_id=2#12527563)

Christ. Looking back it was so obvious: the egregious Pynchon and Gaddis trolling, countless Dirk 4 MVP threads, and thousands of bumps of old solzy posts. How could I be so stupid? If it wasn't Chief Whokebe, it was someone who had his M.O. down to a T. As if that was even possible.

This all ran through my head as Pensive and I crept through the sticky darkness at the wharf. We had a hot tip that the Chief had been seen entering Warehouse 174, and this was out best shot.

I motioned for Pensive to cover me as I peered through the opening of the warehouse. In the middle of the room, surrounded by crates full of Adderall, was the Chief, tied to a rolling chair. He was bleeding out of every hole, his Mav's jersey turning a disgusting shade of poop.

"Chief!" Pensive yelled, rushing in to the room.

"Stop!" I whispered, but it was too late. Pensive was already inside.

"Radek!" Suddenly, Officer Radek appeared, his side arm pointed right at the chief.

"What's going on here?" Pensive asked.

"To be fair, what does it look like?"

Out from the shadows, strode the most vile and disgusting thing this city had ever spat out, To Be Fair. It was all starting to make sense. He's got his hands on every turd floating in this city. My glutes shook. He trained his laser sight on Pensive's chest.

"You let the chief go!" Pensive yelled.

"To be fair, fine. Officer Radek?"

"What?"

"To be fair, let the Chief go."

"No u."

"To be fair, can the shit Radek!"

Officer Radek untied the Chief. "Bitchasss," he muttered.

"Are you ok, Chief?" Pensive demanded.

Chief Whokebe stood up and wiped the dried crust from his jersey. Then, he started a slow clap. A real ominous slow clap.

"You just couldn't stay away could you Pensive? Couldn't let a good thing lie? What about that pretty wife of..."

To Be Fair tapped the Chief and shook his head to let the Chief know the obvious.

"Oh, right," the Chief continued, "what about that pretty image in your head of what a wife might look like someday?"

"You son of a bitch!"

"To be fair, these knock off Adderalls are going to hit the streets, and you're going to hit the bottom of Jewdood Bay. Officer Radek?"

"What"

"Take Pensive to the back for a cement shoe fitting."

That fucking J. What has she gotten me into?

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1065658&forum_id=2#13529321)

previously, http://autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1014541&mc=15&forum_id=2#11949699

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1065658&forum_id=2#12527798)

and one more thing

fuck you

tyft

xoxo, hth, stp

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1065658&forum_id=2#12532597)

167

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=1065658&forum_id=2#14531722)