Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter thirteen of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week my novelist and I had the honor of watching the film Pachyderme, a beautiful and disturbing story nominated for an Oscar for Best Animated Short Film. My novelist was going to include it with her other film pick this week (one of the live action shorts nominated). Unfortunately, the film is no longer running on YouTube. We would humbly ask the Academy to make all nominated shorts, animated, documentary and live action, available to the public on some streaming service or services prior to the Oscar ceremony. We aren’t even asking for the Academy to run them on YouTube per say. We are just asking for all of them to be available to stream. It would be great to feature all of them as a package on one or more of the services but that’s probably asking too much. Pachyderme is an exceptional film which, like many of these gems, begs to be seen by a worldwide audience. It was an extraordinary experience watching this mini masterpiece and we hope it finds a steaming home so we can recommend it at some point in the future. And with that thought here is chapter thirteen of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Enjoy!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the Parti Poodle

Chapter Thirteen

Fia started to wonder if she had remembered her mace. She usually kept it in her bag but last night she’d switched bags before going out for drinks with Bexley. She’d been tired when she’d come home and wondered if she may have left it in her smaller bag. She picked her bag off the floor and rummaged around inside.

“Looking for something?” Curtis asked.

“Lip balm,” Fia replied as calmly as she could.

“Lips get chapped this time of year?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

Fia felt around her bag and could not seem to locate the can of pepper spray. Panic surged through her. She couldn’t locate her lip balm either. Fia glanced out the window and noticed the terrain becoming more rural. “How far out does your aunt live?”

“A way.”

“So, what is it your aunt needs?”

“She needs me to pick something up.”

The Honda continued down a winding road. Fia looked out the window again and realized they were heading towards the lake. “Your aunt’s place on the lake?”

Curtis didn’t answer and accelerated the speed of the car.

“Maybe we should head back to the office. It’s getting late.”

“Open the glove compartment please.”

Fia glanced at the glove compartment and carefully opened it. Inside were a couple of flash drives, a sunglass case, a set of leather driving gloves, an ice scraper, and a small stash of granola bars.

“Hand me one of those granola bars, please.”

Fia grabbed one of the granola bars and handed it to him.

“Open the wrapper for me, would you?”

“Can’t you open it yourself?”

“I’m driving.”

Fia studied him then sat back in the passenger’s seat and looked out the window. The lake was visible now. Rain started hitting the windshield. The air felt muggy. Claustrophobia moved in on her. She was sure she’d left her mace in the other handbag. 

Curtis saw the cabin coming up. He knew he had to keep his cool. He turned off the road and drove down the gravel driveway. He shut off the engine, unfastened his seatbelt and opened the doors.

Fia grabbed her handbag and disembarked the car. They headed towards the clearing where the two-story cabin stood. Curtis walked up the steps to the door as Fia stayed on the gravel clutching her handbag and watching him closely. Curtis opened the screen door, which made a menacing squeak and unlocked the cabin. He pushed open the door and turned to Fia. “Come on in,” he said.

“Your aunt isn’t here?”

“She’s in Canada right now.”

“Why is this so urgent if she’s in Canada?”

“She wants me to pick up a couple of paintings to get ready for auction.”

“I took a few art classes in college. I’d like to see them when you bring them out here.”

“I need to package them up before I put them in the car. You could help me.”

Fia considered the idea. “Alright,” she said feeling more at ease believing Curtis had a purpose for this trip. She moved up the steps and into the cabin. When she got inside, she was surprised to find how modern and minimalist the place felt. “This is nice,” she said gazing over at a curvy red chair. She noticed when she looked at it from the side it doubled as a bookshelf.

Noticing her fixation on the piece Curtis said, “It’s not the most comfortable chair in the world.”

Fia’s eyes moved to the curved floor lamp that stood beside it. It had two feet for a base that reminded her of a cartoon character, pronounced curved piping, and a rounded stark white flying saucer shaped shade. She gazed over to the bay window overlooking the lake where an arctic blue Marylyn Bocca lips couch stood. “Some of this furniture must be quite expensive,” she said.

“Aunt Odette is always collecting art. Some of it is valuable and some is just plain odd.”

“I think she has great taste. I love that lighting on the ceiling there. It really sets off the room.”

“You mean that glass thing up there that looks like a coral reef?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, she loves that one. I think it’s a Chihuly.”

“Really? Wow. When I buy my own house after grad school, I’m going to ask my dad for one.”

Curtis raised an eyebrow. “Won’t you have loans to pay off?”

“No.”

“I see. Anyway, the pieces I need to get are that thing over the couch,” he said pointing to a still life of pansies in an antique gold frame above an olive-green Scandinavian midcentury modern sofa, “and then there’s another painting in her bedroom. Would you mind doing me a favor? Could you take that one down while I go get the coverings?”

Fia shrugged. “Sure.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

Curtis left and headed towards the stairs. Fia gazed at the painting. It looked out of place amongst all the modern furniture. Just the same she found the fragile flowers striking and pleasing to the eye.

Out of curiosity she walked over and sat on the red bookshelf chair. She disagreed with Curtis. It was quite comfortable. She decided it was the attention to the wooden curves that fit the body well. She could see it as a fabulous set piece for one of her performance art shows. She imagined crawling in and out of the structure, placing props on it, and making the chair seem as if it had come to life.

“Fia,” Curtis called returning to the room.

Fia hopped out of the chair and darted for the painting.

“I’m going to need your help getting this packaging out of the attic.”

“Why?” she said.

“It’s a walk-in, but she’s got so much stuff up there I can’t get to it. I’d need to slink around places I’m not small enough to fit.”

Fia studied Curtis. Maybe her apprehensions about him were far-fetched. But she was skeptical about heading upstairs into an attic. “I don’t like attics,” she said. “I almost fell out of one once when I was in preschool.”

“It’s a walk in with a door. It’s like stepping into a room.”

“I don’t feel comfortable about this, Curtis.”

“I’ll keep you safe. Come on.”

Fia sighed. “Fine.”

She set her handbag down on the green couch and followed Curtis out of the room, around the corner to the left and on to the stairs. They ascended to the second floor and then onto the attic. Curtis pushed the door open and Fia followed him inside where he pointed to the back corner. Fia surveyed the room and its contents. Everything was neat, clean and in its place. Fia could see a clear path to the back of the room.

“You couldn’t get back there?” she said pointing.

“It’s too cramped,” Curtis insisted.

“I mean this is the most organized attic I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s deceptively difficult to navigate.”

“As soon as I get back there and get this stuff, we are packing those pictures and going back to the office.”

Fia started making her way through the sculptures and other paintings Curtis’s aunt had stored. Curtis watched Fia until she had almost reached the back. Then he spun around and headed to the door.

“Hey!” Fia yelled.

Curtis slammed the door shut and locked it before hurrying back down the stairs.

MY BOOKS

You can check out my books Chicane and all five installments of the Musicology book series Musicology: Volume One, Baby!, Musicology: Volume Two, Kid!, Musicology: Volume Three, Twist!, Musicology: Volume Four, Sweetie! and Musicology: The Epiquad on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback editions. You can also check out Musicology’s web site at www.musicologyrocks.com and vote for who you think will win Musicology!

STREAM OF THE WEEK: THE WONDERFUL STORY OF HENRY SUGAR (2023) NETFLIX

Who would have thought Wes Anderson, amid a phenomenal film career, would suddenly decide to make a short? Well, be glad he did because this delightful forty or so minute film on Netflix is well worth the watch. And it was nominated for an Oscar for Best Live Action Short Film. Based on the Roald Dahl short story and shot like a play (think Rushmore) with its delightful sets and superb cast, it is a clever whimsical meditation on the power of generosity.

The story, told with all the characters taking turns as the narrator starting with Roald Dahl himself (Ralph Fiennes who also plays the Policeman), begins with a wealthy man named Henry Sugar (Bennedict Cumberbatch) who inherits a large sum of money from his father. Henry’s first desire is to gamble with his windfall. After receiving his inheritance, he finds an unusual thin book in his father’s library. The book turns out to be a medical report by a man named Dr. Chatterjee (Dev Patal). The report is about Imdad Khan (Ben Kingsley) a man who can see things without using his eyes. The report says that as a young man Imdad sought out The Great Yogi (Richard Ayoade who also plays Dr. Marshall) after seeing him in a circus act. Imdad studied with The Great Yogi and continued studying the craft for many years afterwards to accomplish the skill. Desiring to acquire the skill as well, Henry begins a disciplined study of the skill himself, learning some important life lessons along the way.

Look for the uber cool Jarvis Cocker of the rock group PULP in a few different cameos.