hardboiled cat

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    DAILY DOODLE – 09.26.2017, hardboiled cat, the finale

    By / September 26, 2017

    Her blood swerved its way through the cracks of the road, like a river finding its way through the canyon. Two-Tone the Tortoise headed towards his car with a grim look on his face.  The dame was his daughter.  I was still wrapping my brain around the awkwardness of it all as the police lifted… Read more

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    DAILY DOODLE – 09.22.2017, hardboiled cat, the reservoir

    By / September 22, 2017

    The gun shot still echoed on the air. The birds cawed in the sky, complaining at me that I had disturbed their quiet.  The brute lay gasping his last breath at the water’s edge.  Some of his blood was seeping out into the reservoir.  I had a quick cringe thinking at some point that was… Read more

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    DAILY DOODLE – 09.21.2017, hardboiled cat, the brute

    By / September 21, 2017

    “Two-Tone says stay away from the girl, else it won’t be your nose that just gets broken!” The swelling had already started.  The butt of the gun had caught me square between the eyes, and they were flowin’ like the melting glaciers off old Mount Hood.  I could barely make’em out any more as he… Read more

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    DAILY DOODLE – 09.20.2017, hardboiled cat, the dame

    By / September 20, 2017

    She had spotted me in the crowd… At least, I thought she had.  The fact that she was now standing in my doorway assured my suspicions.  She had all the class of one of them upper west-side broads, but her style was nothing better than them two-bit dames you find in the seedy clubs no… Read more

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    DAILY DOODLE – 09.19.2017, hardboiled cat, the bouncer

    By / September 19, 2017

    So…uh, do you like…work out? Tony “Two-Tone” Tortugas’ bar was called the “Pajamas”.  It was a ritzy place where those who liked to pretend to be rich hung out with their plated jewelry and fashions long out of style, but still chic in the seedy circles.  Tony’s dogs guarded the door, letting only those with… Read more

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    DAILY DOODLE – 09.18.2017, hardboiled cat

    By / September 18, 2017

    The stench of injustice hung in the air like a used litter box. This case was going no where with more twists than a pretzel.  The old lady who hired me was dead on the floor of that wretched apartment of hers and the cops were calling it a suicide. I knew better. The blown… Read more

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