Monday’s Fun Read on the Bumbling Detectives –
Captain Courageous asks Gillis and Pickle if they know how to stop the city from becoming a giant landfill of crime and corruption. Gillis has the answer.
Dill bent over the corpse and stared into the deceased’s cleaned out intestines, “I only hope the deceased was dead after the killer cut his head off.”
“Novel idea, mind explaining it to me?” asked Gillis picking up the deceased’s head and snapping a selfie with it.
Dill caught the selfie action. “Why the photo, Gills? This one puzzles me.”
“I think it will turn Wendy on. She’s a medical examiner. She’ll see me taking an interest in her work when I show her the selfie of the deceased’s head and me.”
“Brilliant strategy. You ought to send your strategy into one of the men’s magazines. They’re always looking for great pickup lines. With this move, you took pickup lines into a whole new level. As far as my theory about hoping the deceased was deceased after they cut his head off it goes like this. Consider for a moment that the pain center is in the brain. I got to figure a monkey’s brain works somewhat like a human brain only because they have fingers and toes. So if the monkey’s brain is in the head, which is now in your hands and the monkey’s body is in front of me, there’s no way they can communicate unless both body parts have blue tooth or are on the same network. That’s what I was doing messing in the monkey’s cavity. I was looking for wifi or a modem. Since I couldn’t find a modem or other technology in the monkey’s cavity, it’s my theory the killer took it. Find the modem, find the killer. It’s a possibility we have to consider if we’re going to solve this case.”
When Pickle made a valiant, yet futile, attempt to talk smart Gillis inevitably suffered from a gas buildup in his lower intestine. The level of gas in his lower intestine was directly proportional to the absurdity of Pickle’s intellectual discourse. This time was no different than other times. Gillis had no alternative but to lift his left leg and let one rip, “You hear that? I think a car backfired.”
Pickle looked up and said, “I think you set a world a record. That was about seven seconds long. I told you not to eat the bean burrito at lunch. Oh my, that really is bad, might be a top ten classic. If we an record these, you might make the Guinness Book of World Records. Remind me not to use the men’s room when it’s your time. If Wendy says anything we’ll blame the smell on the monkey. He won’t be able to disagree.”
Gil tossed a half smile at Pickle, “Thanks for the confidence in getting a world’s record. Normally, when I let one rip, they’re silent. Nobody knows it’s me. There’s no way to record them. It’s like a tree falling in the forest. If no one hears it fall, does it make a sound?” Gillis said and then immediately regretted saying it.
Pickle answered, “There’s like ten ways to look at this philosophical problem, Gills. First, you got to look at from the point of view of the tree …”
Gillis interrupted Pickle hoping to change the conversation, “Dill, you know why they call the medical examiner the ME? If you read it, you think you’re talking about yourself.”
“I got no answer on that one. That’s another of life’s pearlexing questions.”
“Do you mean, perplexing questions, Dill?”
Dill put his hands in jeans pockets, he hunched his shoulders and took a step toward Gillis, “I know you are the senior partner. I know you are much smarter than me. One thing about me, I’m autistic and I have a gift for remember how to spell and the meanings of words. I mesmerized the entire dictionary when I was six.”
“You mesmerized it?” asked Gillis trying to carry a meaningless conversation a little further.
“It was as easy as filling a paper cup with a urine sample for my fiscal exam, which by the way I passed with flying geese.”
Gillis quit trying, he didn’t want to challenge the misuse of fiscal in play of physical. Pickle would never admit to being wrong on word usage. Gillis turned his attention to the driveway. He said, “I think I see Wendy’s car pulling up the driveway. I hope she doesn’t try to bust my balls, Dill, because she knows it’s a definite turn on for me. I’ve been playing hard to get. It’s crazy, but the harder I play to get, the more she throws herself at me. It’s all I can do to stop her from ripping my clothes off and doing the dance with me.”
“You have all the moves. I’ve been studying you and the way you work the ladies. It’s like I’m watching the man who wrote the book on how to make a woman fall into your bed in three easy steps.”
“You ever have a question, I’m teh guru on how to turn a woman from flicker to flame,” said Gillis bending over and peering into the deceased’s vacant cavity. Gillis took a ballpoint pen out of his shirt pocket, and stuck it in the monkey’s now vacant cavity.
Gillis said, “I’m trying to figure out what organs the killer took and what organs he left in the monkey. You know what a kidney looks like?”
Pickles lit up, “I know the answer to that one. A kid’s knee is smaller than an adult’s knee. What size knee does the monkey have?”
Gillis tried to remember what useful purposes Pickles served. He mentally made a list, he plays a good bad cop. He intimidates the criminals with his size. He never questions my direction.
“Gills, did the monkey wear contacts? I’m thinking out of the box here,” said Pickle sticking three pieces of gum into his mouth.
Gillis wasn’t quite sure where Dill was going with the comment. He answered, “Doesn’t matter, he won’t need them now.”
“I got a theory about the crime, Gills. Want to hear it?” asked Dill facing a maple tree relieving himself.
“I want to hear it Dill, but be careful where the runoff is heading. You don’t want your urine to confound the crime scene. If you shake it more than twice, you’re playing with it,” Gillis laughed.
Dills said, “Thanks for the advice, I don’t want anyone to misconstrue what I am doing. I’m no perverted. Anyway, my theory is this was a theft gone bad. If the deceased was wearing contacts, the killer decaped him to get the contacts. Contacts are expensive, especially if you don’t wear them.”
Gillis scratched his head, he heard a rumbling in his lower intestine, it was the first sign of another gas build up. Listening to Dill wore him out. He thought he needed to start recording everything Dill said and put it into a book when he retired. Lots of ex cops write books and get movie deals made from their books. He pictured himself in a second career as a rough tough, ruggedly handsome cop staring in his own television show.”
Dill took him away from the pleasant fantasy, “Listen up, Gills, Wendy, is walking toward u, and the way she is looking over at you, your night is not going to end early if you know what I mean.”
Gillis waved at Wendy, “Hey Wendy, got a cute dish for you, gutted and all.”
Wendy flipped Gillis and Pickle the bird, then added, “Bite me.”
“Nice! Your mother know you talk like that?” said Gillis. Then he whispered an aside to Pickle, “She goes wild when I word fight with her.”
Wendy flipped Dill and Gillis both middle fingers.
“Good thing we got a good working relationship or I might take this seriously. Don’t take this wrong, but you are looking very hot in scrubs. You wearing anything under them? I’m only curious in case I have to wear scrubs at some point in the future. Let’s have beer when you’re through then we can watch Netflix at my place,” said Gillis.
Wendy who has a black belt in Brazilian jiujutsu said, “Give me an excuse to wrap you up into a ball and kick your ass through the goal posts.”
“I love it when you talk dirty,” said Gillis fist bumping Dill.
Pickle tossed a shrug of his shoulders, “Nothing offends me. It’s my way of driving people who don’t like me nuts.”
Every once in a blue moon, make three blue moons, Pickle talked like a Zen master. Gillis couldn’t figure it out. Gillis said, “Where’d you get that bit wisdom? I’d like to practice it.”
Pickle was still taking iPhoto’s of the dead and decaying monkey. He said, “I got it from my mom’s fifth or eighth boyfriend. I couldn’t keep track she had so many. No guy lasted more than eight months with her. I learned to see it coming before the boyfriend did. This one boyfriend, Alvin, he was always high on pot or peyote. I think Mom liked him because I could always hear her saying, yes, yes, and more frequently at night. Mom, generally was very agreeable.
One day, Alvin was rolling a joint and I was in the room watching him. Mom came into the living room and called him a dirtbag and told him to get out of the house and to take his dope with him. I’m not sure where she got the attitude, but that was mom. Living with her was like riding a rollercoaster. Alvin smiled at her. She tossed a major insult at him when she told him his wiener was smaller than her thumb. He kept smiling. She cussed out his mother. She cussed out his grandmother. Mom was a professional when it came to cussing. Man, she was good. Alvin kept on smiling.”
“Nothing made him mad?” asked Gillis.
“I don’t know if nothing made him made. I know what scared the hell out of him and he ran out of the house with only his boxers on.”
“What happened?” asked Gillis.
Mom left the living room. She hollered from the kitchen. “Alvin, I apologize. The way you zoned out is a major turn on. I am so damn hot, I can’t stand myself. you are the best. Take off your pants and let’s get it on.”
“You heard all this? Did it bother you?”
“Why would it bother me, Gills? Mom was being mom. She never hit me. She was always nice to me. The rest of the stuff that surrounded me I like to think of as my education. That’s what I love about mom. She treated me like an adult. Alvin practically ripped off his shirt and pants and shoes and socks. He’s standing up with only his polkadot boxers on looking like he had three legs. He hollered out, “I’m ready for you, kitten.’ Kitten was his nickname for her. Mom hated cats and the poor fool couldn’t figure it out. Next thing, Mom comes into the living room with a carving knife in one hand and a butcher knife it the other and she said, ‘I am going to castrate you.’ That was the last I ever saw of Alvin.”
“Your mom was very persuasive,” said Gillis.
“True. I’m not sure Alvin taught me anything. But I learned to float about the craziness that filled my life. It’s why in critical situations I’m as calm and as lobster in a boiling pot of water. Ask me whatever you want to ask me, Gills. First, I’m making you the odds on favorite to go to bed with Wendy tonight even if she is still married, which I don’t know. I hear rumors.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” said Gillis scratching his groin and thinking maybe a mosquito got him while he showered with the window open.
Pickle stared at Gillis, bent toward him squinting his eyes. He straightened up and said, “Your piece is off center. It resembles road kill. You ever see a squirrel been run over by twenty zillion cars? That’s what it looks like laying that way on your head. Not a good look.”
“Thanks for the honesty, Dill.” Gillis adjusted his hair piece with a can of soda in one hand and Philly Cheesesteak sub in the other. “How’s it look now?”
“Not bad, but you dribbled mustard on it from your sub. Not to worry. The mustard put a natural blonde streak in your brown hair. It’s a good look. Now you got movie star looks. Don’t be surprised you get a screen test sometime.”
“Thanks, Dill. When I get to a mirror I’ll make a decision to see if I want to have the streak made permanent. Here’s my question. I can’t tell if you are classified as white, black, brown, Asian, or another category I missed. Not that it makes any difference to me. I’m curious, is all. What do you put down for race when you have to fill out a form? I’ve always wanted to ask you this question but couldn’t find the right time. The timing now is perfect.”
Dill was sticking a forefinger in one of the monkey’s empty eye sockets. He placed his middle finger in the other eye socket. He stuck his thumb in the monkey’s mouth. Dill stood up with the deceased’s head dangling from his right hand like it was a bowling ball. Dill said, “I ask if I can write in ‘all the above.’ It’s only fair. Mom told me during the time of her ovulation when I was conceived she had sex with four different guys. She said there was a white guy, a black guy, a Mexican, and a guy from Singapore. Then she said, there may have been a fifth or sixth, she couldn’t remember she was so wasted.”
“I got it. Thanks for sharing, Dill,” said Gills thinking this was too much information. It made him admire Pickle more than he did before, because Pickle always spoke well of his mother. Pickle had a gift of going with the flow wherever the flow was going.
Pickle was swinging the monkey’s head back and forth in a wider and wider arc. He said, “I ever tell you my Mom got an award …”
Gillis interrupted Dill. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear about the award. He said, “Must have been for Mother of the Year.” He quickly segued into a new thought, “Be careful with the head, the ME hasn’t examined it yet. Nice of Captain Courageous to set up a special unit and put us in charge. This case fits perfect into the Bizarre Crimes Unit.”
“I think you misheard the Cap, Gils. I think he said, the Brassiere Crimes Unit. No offense intended, but have your hearing checked. Can you give me a hand with the deceased’s head? It’s stuck. I was trying it on to see if I should buy a bowling ball this size. It’s a perfect fit.”
A couple of tugs and the monkey’s head popped free from Dill’s hand. Gillis had the monkey’s head in his two hands and stumbled backward, flipping the monkey’s head into the air as he fell onto his butt. The head pitched high in the air, did a few forward rolls, landed and rolled over dog poop left by one of the police dogs from the team that first responded. The monkey’s head came to rest next to Gillis empty can of Dr. Pepper, which laid between the monkey’s legs.
Dill stared at the monkey, walked around it clockwise, then walked counter clockwise back to his original starting point. He put his hand on his chin, pursed his lips and closed his eyes. A long second later he opened his eyes and said, “There’s no excuse for gutting a deceased and not cleaning up when you’re through. Look at the blood splatter. The killer broke all killing and gutting protocols. There’s no excuse for that. It won’t go well in prison. The majority of convicted murderers are sticklers for following killing and gutting protocols.”
Gillis said, “Killing and gutting protocol? Where’d you hear that? I think it was a crime of passion,” said Gillis knowing Pickle often said what popped in his mind without considering if it made sense or not.
“I thinks you’re mistaken. It’s a common mistake,” Dill.
“How so?” asked Gillis wondering why he wanted further clarification from Pickle.
“The correct word is compassion. It was a crime of compassion. Whereas and heretofore, and the aforesaid word passion means like you’re helping somebody out of a jam. Don’t get me wrong, I like jam, but I prefer jelly,” said Dill.
Gillis stared at his partner and considered Dill might be living in an imaginary world, sniffing a little of stuff in the evidence room, or maybe he needed immediate referral for professional help. He wasn’t quite sure. He never said anything because Dill had the build of a heavyweight boxer, a kind heart, and he didn’t mind picking up tab whenever they went out to eat.
Gillis walked around the corpse, stared at the moonless sky and turned to his partner of five years, “Never seen anything like it, Dill. How many years I been doing this? Ten, fifteen, twenty? I lost count after eight. How about you?”
Oscar “Dill” Pickle, took a sip of Quick Trip coffee, “I don’t understand your question, Gills. You asking me how many years you been doing this? Or, are you asking me if I ever seen anything like this? As for the answer to the first question, can I phone a friend? As for the answer to the second question, I been doing it since I started doing it. I tell you one thing or maybe four things, Gill, it’s enough to to turn your stomach turn. It’s a rough one. We’ll never locate any next of kindles.”
“No need to phone a friend because I think I’m the only friend you have, Dill. Anyway, I think the word you meant to use is kin, not kindles,” said Gillis flicking through Instagram photos on his iPhone app.
“I think you’re mistaken, Gills. Like, if you says to me, ‘Dill, kin you get me a coffee.’ I answer, ‘I kin do that.’ See what I’m saying?”
Gillis scratched his balls with his left hand. He said, “I think I got jock itch or crabs. I’m not sure what it is. You know if you can get crabs from eating seafood? I eat lots of shrimp. Be that as it may, kin, kindles, kinetics, it’s all the same, Dill.”
“You got that right, Gills. FYI, the crabs you got don’t come from crabs. If crabs came from crabs all the crabs would have crabs, see what I’m saying?” said Pickle.
“I’m trying to wrap my head around it, you got a way of getting very deep, Dill. As a matter of fact, I don’t like crabs,” said Gillis still scratching. “You know what’s good for crabs?”
Pickle shook his head yes, “Tabasco sauce goes good with them. You can also flavor them with lemon or Sriracha. If you’e been eating crabs without the seasonings, I can see why you don’t like them.”
Gillis struggled to come up with an answer. Dill had a heart of gold and a brain traveling at the speed of light on a different wave length. He finally responded, “Great advice, Dill. I’ll mention it to my gynecologist at my annual physical.”
“That’s why you’re so healthy, Gills. I got to follow your example. I need a good gynecologist,” said Pickle.
Gillis carried his Philly Cheesesteak sub and walked around the deceased, “I got a question I don’t understand. Why us? Why did Captain Courageous give this case to you and me? It doesn’t make sense. If they ranked all the detectives in the department, I got to put you and me at the top of the list. There’s something funny going on, Dill. It doesn’t smell right to me.”
“First of all, Gills, it doesn’t smell right because I think the deceased has been deceased for a few hours before he was found. That’s where the funny smell comes from. Take a look at the bright side. Who else is Courageous got that has the chops to solve this case? Here we are at Folsom Sampson’s mansion investigating a murder his administrative assistant reported. Rumor has it, Sampson and the mayor’s wife may be more than social friends if you know what I mean.”
“That’s true, Dill. At the same time, rumor has it that Mayor Gibson is doing more than socializing with Courageous’s wife. None of that has nothing to do with this case. Did I just use a double negative in the same sentence?”
Pickle scratched is butt, “If you are trying to be grammatically correct, you were spot on. They changed the grammar rules so a double negative is now correct.”
“When did that happen?”
“I think it happened while we were playing eight ball at Rovers last week,” said Pickle. “Question. Can you catch crabs by hearing someone talk about them?”
“I don’t think so. I haven’t heard of anyone catching them by listening to it. I heard you can catch crabs by sitting on a toilet seat,” said Gillis scratching his groin. He stooped over the decease. Then looked up at Pickle. “I’m going to cut to the chase. This is a friggin monkey.”
“Calm down, Gills. Courageous said the mayor wants results and he wants results fast. His wife is demanding results. That’s why the thing between the mayor’s wife and Sampson is important.”
“I suppose, Dill. Say we catch the killer or killers, what are they going to get? I don’t think it’s a crime to kill a monkey, I don’t care how large it is.”
Pickle continued to scratch his butt, “I sat on a toilet at the burger place. You think the seat had crabs? I think I got them. I can feel them crawling all around. You don’t think they’ll go up my colon, do you?”
”I hope not. Maybe Wendy will know. She’s the ME on duty. I won’t let her know I’m talking about us because she has the hots for me. If she thought I had crabs, it might be a turnoff.”
“On the other hand, Gills, it could be a turn on if she’s into seafood. I know some buffets where you can eat all the Alaskan crab you want,” said Pickle.
Gillis stared off into space wondering where Pickle took a wrong turn. He shook the cobwebs out of his head, glanced at the monkey and said, “We got a decapitation. The perp or perps, as the case may be, left the monkey-head next to the body. The deceased’s eyes got gouged out. All his teeth been yanked out. All you can hope is that the deceased was deceased before he was deceased.”
“You ever thought of writing, Gills? You got a ways with words. I hopes the deceased was deader than dead because if he wasn’t there’s no way he wasn’t going to feel what was happening, especially when he got his head cut off,” said Dill swirling Dr Pepper in his mouth like mouthwash.
“Good thing you put yellow crime scene tape up to keep the reporters from trampling all over the crime scene. Why’d you think the eyeballs were gouged out? Would a normal person gouge out monkey eyeballs? Why are you taking photos with your iPhone? The lab team will take all the crime photos we need.” asked Gillis.
“Dill stooped down next to the decapitated monkey head, looked up at Gillis, and said, “My girlfriend, Chiquita, gets turned on by crime scene photos.”
“I thought you were going with Elaine?” said Gillis.
“Chiquita changed her name legally from Elaine to Chiquita to help her career. She’s into movies. About the eyeballs. It’s normal to gouge out monkey eyeballs. Say the killer had cataracts. I hear monkey don’t get cataracts. That means you can replace your eyes with monkey eyes and never worry about getting cataracts. If this is the case, I think it’s normal. What’s not normal is if the killer deep fried them. I’m not sure what goes good with fried monkey eyeballs.”
Gillis scratched his head with his can of soda and said, “Anything deep fried tastes good, even monkey eyes. I like ketchup on anything deep fried. Hell, I’d eat a dirty sock if it was deep fried and I could put ketchup on it. Can I ask you a question without you being offended?”
WHAT PERSONAL QUESTION DOES GILLIS WANT TO ASK HIS PARTNER, DILL?
Don’t think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It’s self-conscious, and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can’t try to do things. You simply must do things.