Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Ten

Good afternoon. Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter ten of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. We are expecting a cold snap this weekend. I for one do not like the cold. I prefer warm weather with a soft comfortable blanket encircled around me. An adjacent heat vent is also preferred and if there is winter sun shining through a nearby window that is also a plus. I sometimes question why I live where I do. A warm sunny desert often sounds so appealing. But then there would be snakes and tarantulas. Last night I dreamed a large green hairless tarantula bit my leg. I woke up with a start. I was able to fall back to sleep but then dreamed of my twin brother whom I only knew as a puppy. He was talking to me politely about something, but I didn’t trust him. I don’t remember him being untrustworthy, but I felt he was up to something. I also fear a bath is in my near future. Maybe that looming event is the root of my nightmares. And with that thought here is chapter ten of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Enjoy.  

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the Parti Poodle

Chapter Ten

Curtis studied the surveillance video, but he still couldn’t determine why the criminals looked familiar.

“I’ve called the police,” Ray said, “and they have a couple of officers who should be at your place in a couple of minutes, so we’d better drive back to meet them.”

“Alright. Let’s go.”

Ray and Curtis drove back to the duplex and pulled their vehicles into the driveway just as the patrol car eased up to the curb. A male officer and a female officer disembarked the car.

“Hello, officers,” Ray said climbing down from his truck.

“We got a call about a break in,” the female officer said.

“Yep. We got the crime recorded on my surveillance tape.”

“They take anything?”

“Well, they got my tenant’s dog killed.”

“Really? How?”

“They left the door ajar when they broke in and the dog ran out into the street and got hit by a delivery truck.”

“Sorry to hear that. Well, let’s look at what we have here.”

“Did it look like a forced entry?” the male officer asked.

“No,” Curtis said siding up to Ray. “The video showed they picked the lock.”

“Hmm. Maybe what we have is a couple of professional thieves.”

“Maybe.”

The two officers stepped up to Curtis’s door and studied it. “Yeah, the lock looks to be intact,” the male officer said. “Doesn’t appear to be a forced entry. In fact, they locked the door when they left. Have you been in the apartment since the break in?”

“No,” Curtis said. “No one has.”

“That’s good. Then it should be as these criminals left it. Go ahead and open the door.”

Curtis unlocked the door and the four of them stepped inside. The two officers noted how immaculate the place looked.

“You keep a clean house,” the female officer said. “Why don’t you look around to see if anything is missing.”

Curtis carefully searched through his kitchen and around his breakfast nook. Nothing seemed to be out of place. He glanced up at the corner where he’d hidden the surveillance camera, and it looked like someone had spraypainted the lens.

“Nothing seems to be missing,” he said. “I’ll go check my bedroom.”

Curtis headed into the bedroom and noticed immediately his comforter was askew. He usually made the bed neatly before heading to work and Haven had always kept it that way. But the plain white comforter seemed to have been tousled. Maybe the location of a scuffle.

He checked his closet, dresser drawers, computer desk, and under his bed. Everything seemed to be in order. He checked his hidden strongbox where he kept a stash of cash. All the money was there.

“The only thing out of place,” he said returning to the living room, “is my bed looks disheveled. I always make my bed up before I go to work, and Haven never messes it up.”

The two officers marched through the bedroom door and studied the bed.

“We’d better get the blacklight,” the male officer said.

“Blacklight? Do you think they came in here and hooked up?”

“Never hurts to look,” the female officer said.

After the officers left and Ray drove home, Curtis sat down on his couch with a cup of green tea and reviewed his own surveillance video. He scanned to the part where the two intruders entered his home. He leaned in and studied them carefully. They were obviously looking for something. He watched one of the hooded creeps head into his bedroom and the other survey the kitchen and living room. The crook looked up into the surveillance camera. He hopped up on the breakfast nook and proceeded to spray paint the lens.

Curtis quickly rewound the video to take another look at the guy. He did a freeze frame just as the creep’s face came into view. Then Curtis felt all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. There was no doubt about it. It was Lance. That rat bastard had broken into his house and killed his dog!

Curtis stood up and roared. He grabbed the sides of his face and stamped his feet on the ground. Those creeps he worked with had taken their pranks beyond the pale. He marched out into the kitchen, yanked open his utensil drawer and began hurling silverware against the wall. It took a couple of minutes before he realized someone was knocking on his front door.

“Who is it?” he said.

“It’s Earl,” Earl said. “Are you okay in there?”

“Oh…yes. I’m just…putting some things away.”

“Sounded like that Zuul guy from Ghostbusters came over for a visit or something.”

“No. No Zuul in here. I was just…putting some things away.”

“Really? I’ve never heard you put things away that loudly before.”

“Yeah, well, I felt like being…loud.”

“Okay, man. I’m sorry about Haven.”

“Thank you. I appreciate you taking her to the animal hospital.”

“Absolutely, man. I hope they catch the guys who did it.”

“Yeah. I hope they do something like that.”

“What?”

“Thanks, Earl.”

Curtis listened as Earl headed back to his apartment. Then he looked around at the mess he’d made. He sighed and left the strewn silverware everywhere and went back to his couch, plopped down and continued watching his surveillance tape. He rewound it and watched it again from where the two scumbags entered his home. He focused on the one who wasn’t Lance. It had to be either Grady or Irving.

And then he realized it was a woman. How had he not figured that out before? Makenna. Of course, Makenna. She’d picked the lock. She’d probably concocted the sick plan, the rotten little slut!

Curtis jumped up and paced around stepping on table knives, spoons, and forks as he went. He couldn’t take this lying down. He had to act. But how? The more he thought the more he believed Grady and Irwin were in on the whole rotten scheme too. All of them had set out to kill Haven. They probably planned it at The Steamed Bean drinking those overpriced coffees while he stayed in the office. He was going to tear them to pieces. He was going to get revenge.  

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 HOLDOVERS (2023)-PEACOCK

American movies have been going downhill in recent years but occasionally there is a bright shiny star amongst the rubble. This week two of this film’s lead actors rightly took home Golden Globes and I was overjoyed. I only have three complaints: Dominic Sessa should have also had a nomination; Alexander Payne should have had a nomination and most perplexing of all why in the world didn’t this fantastic original script by David Hemingson get a nomination? It’s easily one of the best screenplays of the 2020’s original or otherwise and I hope the Oscars recognize its brilliance and give it a nod.

Alexander Payne has a stellar list of credits to his name, and this film is amongst his best. Set over a two-week period during Christmas vacation at a prestigious boy’s New England boarding school we meet history teacher and longtime curmudgeon Paul Hunham (Paul Giamatti in a career best Golden Globe winning performance), a brilliant single alcoholic intellectual who has absolutely no patients with his spoiled lazy wealthy students. In fact, he fails most of them on their final test. One of the students Teddy Kountze (Brady Hepner) manages to argue for a makeup test which Hunham agrees to give immediately. However, Angus Tully (Dominic Sessa) who has a rivalry with Kountze argues it isn’t the right time for a makeup test with Christmas break starting that afternoon and could they take it when they come back. After listening to Tully’s argument Hunham rescinds the offer, leaving the boys to face their parents with their horrific grades.

Worse still, during a last-minute phone call with his mother Judy (Gillian Vigman) Angus finds out he cannot go home for the holiday and is stuck at the school with the other “holdovers” which includes Kountze, two younger boys Jim Kaplan (Ye-Joon Park) and Ian Dolley (Alex Ollerman) and fellow classmate, cool and hip Jason Smith (Michael Provost). Mary Lamb (Da’Vine Joy Randolph in a much-deserved Golden Globe winning performance) the head chef at the school is also staying over to cook meals for the left-behind boys. Mary has gone through a horrific recent tragedy and bravely struggles to maintain a strong front. Paul Hunham has been chosen by the rest of the staff, who dislike him almost as much as his students to be the boy’s guardian until classes recommence.

But as luck would have it Jason’s father decides to call a truce with his son who refuses to cut his long flowing blonde locks. Jason invites the boys to accompany his father and him to a ski resort, provided they are granted permission from their parents. Paul contacts and gets permission from all the parents…except for Angus’s mother which leaves a modified Angus alone at the school for two weeks with Paul and Mary.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Nine

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here with chapter nine of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week has been a bit more normal. My novelist’s ankle is healing up well although she is not fully recovered. As she is moving around better, the Maltese and I do not require the services of…Him, although he says he still does some of the work. However, I have not been going out on my usual walks much. This has made me melancholy and I stare out the window at the open road and hope for a time when I shall gleefully traverse it. The Maltese was given a much-needed bath today, and I was granted a pass. I will be getting one tomorrow so I can put off my horror until then. I am looking forward to the New Year and am making a resolution to write even more stories and perhaps some genres I have not penned before. I hope you all had a marvelous New Year’s Eve. I stayed up till midnight and rang in 2024. I was told I could not partake of the sparkling cider as it has too much sugar for my teeth. Next time I will have a few laps of it anyway. And on that thought, here is chapter nine of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. S’il vous plaît profiter.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Nine

Curtis drove home to his duplex and parked in the driveway. Earl was no longer sitting on his porch. Curtis killed the engine and sat looking out the window. A light rain began to spatter on the windshield. He still had Haven’s collar clenched in his left hand. After a moment he looked up in his rearview mirror and saw his landlord’s truck pull up and park. His landlord hopped out of his vehicle and walked up to the driver’s side of Curtis’s car.

“Hey there, Curtis,” he said.

Curtis rolled down his window. “Hello,” he said.

“Ray told me about your dog.”

“Yes.”

“Well, he and I had a little tete-e-tete while you were gone and we thought it was downright odd your little dog got loose, us knowing you to be a fastidious type of person and all. So, I thought maybe you and I could look at the security footage of the outside of the duplex.”

“Okay,” Curtis didn’t want Ray to know about the surveillance he’d covertly installed inside his apartment.

“You can come over to my office and we’ll have a look-see. You know where my office is?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“Alright, then. I’ll meet you there.”

Ray hopped back in his truck and Curtis followed him over to Ray’s offices. Ray owned several duplexes around the area. He’d made his money working as an engineer and then settled in Curtis’s small town. Retirement didn’t suit him, so he purchased the duplexes, fixed them up, modernized them and did well enough to buy himself the truck he was driving and take his wife on a month-long trip to Europe.

“Every year,” Ray said, “we get more and more folks from out of state moving in who think they are going to be living in a better place than they left. But the problem is they bring their former state’s problems with them. My thought is maybe the reason your little dog broke out was because one of these out of towners broke in.”

“You think Haven got out because someone broke into my place?”

“We’ll see. If your place did get broken into, I’ll change the locks. Got a new and improved lock system. I’ve been putting them in my other units. I’ll make your and Ray’s place a priority.”

“Thanks, Ray.”

“Not a problem. Let’s take a look-see at the video. Say, how is your little dog? Is the vet keeping her overnight for observation?”

Curtis sighed. “No. Haven died today. The vet said she sustained injuries from getting hit by a car.”

“Hit by a car? I’m sorry, Curtis. That just sucks. Let’s see if we can get a good look at whoever’s on the tape.” Curtis and Ray headed into the office. Ray moved behind his desk and turned on his surveillance system. “Let me rewind the video a bit and see what we’ve got.” Ray rewound the video all the way back until they saw two people in hoodies walk up to Curtis’s front door. “And look at what we have here.” The two men leaned in and studied the two intruders. “Ever seen those two before?”

Curtis focused, trying to get a good look. “They look familiar, but I can’t quite place them,” he said.

“I wonder if it’s those guys in that house down the street that just got rented.”

“Maybe…no. There’s something familiar about them though.

“Can you make out their faces at all?”

“No.”

“Neither can I. I’ll see if I can get a closer view.” Ray attempted to adjust the zoom on the surveillance, but it didn’t help. Then they saw one of the two people picking the lock. “Wow! I am changing you and Ray’s locks immediately. You should check around your house and make sure nothing got stolen.”

“I don’t own much of value. I don’t understand why anyone would want to rob me.”

“Crooks aren’t always the sharpest crayons in the box. Sometimes they just break into places for the thrill.”

“Yes, but they seemed to be targeting me specifically since they had a key to my apartment.”

Curtis and Ray continued watching the tape which at this point was basically staring at Curtis’s front door. “You know,” Ray said. “It looks like they left the door ajar. Kind of stupid don’t you think? Draws attention…” Suddenly, the door opened wider. A moment later one of the hooded criminals burst outside and ran towards the street. “There’s Haven!”

Curtis watched Haven sitting on his front lawn still alive and full of pep.

“Hey, buddy,” Ray said. “Are you okay?”

Curtis realized tears were running down his cheeks. “Yeah, sure,” he said quickly wiping one away with his sleeve. “I’m just anxious to catch these guys.”

“Look! The other one just ran out the door.”

Curtis watched the second criminal who seemed frazzled. The criminal lurched forwards and Haven turned and ran towards the street. A few seconds later they saw the delivery truck with the neighbor’s flowers screech to a halt.

“I’m sorry, Curtis. This just sucks.”

“Well,” Curtis said quietly. “At least I know I didn’t leave the door open and cause Haven to escape.”

“Earl and I never thought you did, buddy. That’s why I wanted us to watch the tape.”

“Unfortunately, I still can’t recognize these creeps who broke into my house.”

“Well, your residence is basically a crime scene now. We should call the police and have them check inside to see if they can lift any fingerprints or find some DNA or something.”

Curtis nodded. “Yeah, we probably should.”

“I’ll give them a jingle and see if I can’t get a couple of officers to come over and have a look-see.”

“Could you restart the tape from where these two jerks show up on my porch. I sincerely believe they look familiar, and I’d like to see if I can identify them.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

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: OLDBOY (2003)-NETFLIX

Finally, at long last, one of the masterpieces of the new millennium is now beautifully restored and remastered and streaming on Netflix. From its mesmerizing opening to its shocking ending and everything in between, this is an exercise in masterclass storytelling and cinematic moviemaking. I will warn you right off the bat this film is for genuine cinephiles only. This is not for the casual movie watcher. This is not for kids. This is not for the faint of heart. This is a twisted film in every sense of the word, and I mean that in the best way. As Roger Ebert said in his review of the film, “But content does not make a movie good or bad — it is merely what it is about.” And the less you know about this movie going in the better the experience is going to be.

On a dark and rainy night in 1988, twenty-five-year-old Oh Dae-Su (Choi Min-sik in the role of a lifetime), a loud vile drunken businessman finds himself in jail acting erratically. After his friend bails him out the two men stop at a phone booth on route to Oh Dae-Su’s little girl’s birthday. Oh Dae-Su calls home and drunkenly tells his family he will soon be there. He hands the phone to his friend partway through the conversation. His friend talks to his family and when he hangs up, Oh Dae-Su is nowhere to be found. Only the shopping bag carrying the little girl’s present, a set of white feathered angel wings is lying in the wet street. 

Oh Dae-Su has been kidnapped and finds himself in a bizarre prison: a strange hotel room with no windows and no way out where he is to stay for fifteen years. Once he is released into the middle of a green field in 2003 inside a suitcase (a scene likely borrowed from Krzysztof Kieslowski’s 1994 masterpiece White) he finds he has five days to locate his captor and find out why he was imprisoned. If I told you more, it would be a crime.

The gorgeous cinematography was done by Chung-hoon Chung, the film was expertly directed by Park Chan-wook. The story is loosely adapted from the manga series Old Boy written by Garon Tsuchiya and illustrated by Nobuaki Minegishi. And the fantastic top shelf screenplay is written by Hwang Jo-yun, Lim Jun-hyung, and director Park Chan-wook. Rounding out this impressive cast are Oh Dal-su as Park Cheol-woong, Seung-shin Lee as Yoo Hyung-ja, Ji Dae-han as No Joo-hwan, Kim Byeong-Ok as Mr. Han, Kang Hye-jeong as Mi-do and Yoo Ji-tae as Woo-jin Lee.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Eight

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter eight of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Christmas Eve started out so well and then the unthinkable happened. My novelist was coming down a flight of stairs, missed the last step and sprained her left ankle right at the stroke of midnight. She cried out in pain and required assistance to get to her feet. Her ankle is now swollen and bruised, and she is unable to get around much at all until it heals. I have been waiting on her hand and foot, staying by her side, protecting her. She has been putting ice on the injury and has taken some Tylenol (she hates medicine) and has started putting Voltaren Gel on the wounded area. Not a great way to spend Christmas but then again it could have been worse.

Him has been put in charge again. He insists on bossing everyone around. He even barks at my novelist when she tries to stand up. A genuine brute if you ask me. When he sits down, I take it upon myself to jump on his chest, stare him down, and lick his face incessantly, an act he abhors.

Hi. I’m Him and I’m trying to keep this whack-job household in order. First your novelist gets sick, Gigi, and then she sprains her ankle by missing the last step of the stairs. And now I’m stuck taking care of you and the little snowball while she rests up…again.

Well, I never! Just because you’re in charge, temporarily I might add, doesn’t give you the right to boss me around. You can boss the Maltese around as much as you like but I am more than capable of taking care of myself and my novelist thank you very much.

Yeah? Let’s see you open a can of dog food.

I am perfectly capable of…how do you open a can of dog food?

I’ll give you a hint. Your brand has a pull tab.

What is a pull tab…never mind. I’ll look it up on my novelist’s phone.

Yeah, you do that.

Apparently, all ll I will need is a flathead screwdriver.

This ought to be good…

I will slip it under the pull tab and lift it up and pull it back. And while I am attempting to accomplish that task here is chapter eight of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Bonne Année! And Happy New Year!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Eight

Curtis came home to find his neighbor Earl who lived in the other apartment of the duplex sitting on his front porch.

“Hello,” Curtis said confused.

Earl looked at Curtis, opened his mouth then shut it again. Finally, he said, “I have some bad news, Curtis.”

“What kind of bad news?”

“I was pulling into my driveway this afternoon when I saw something lying on your porch.”

“What was lying on my porch?”

“Haven.”

“Haven?”

“She was lying there, and I walked over, and she looked odd, and she had this shallow panting she was doing. And she wouldn’t look up at me. She just kept lying there. So, I ran into the house and got a blanket, and I wrapped her in it, and I drove her to the emergency animal hospital…”

Curtis turned and ran to his car.

“I didn’t know your phone number,” Earl called after him, “so, I waited until you got here.”

Curtis started the engine and hit the gas. He went screeching down the street, panic surging through his arteries. The kind of panic that sucks you into a vortex and cuts you off from the world. All that mattered was Haven.

Curtis found himself stopped at the four-way intersection. He looked down and saw his hands shaking on the steering wheel. He looked up again. If this had been a different time of the day, there would have been fewer cars. But it was rush-hour and even in a small town like his there was still traffic.  

Finally, it was his turn. He charged through, passed the first turn, turned right on the second and barreled up the grade to the end of the business building at the back of the property where he pulled into the first parking spot and killed the engine. He burst out of the car and locked it with his key fob and ran through the sliding doors.

“May I help you?” the young receptionist at the desk asked.

“My dog…a little Yorkie…female…my neighbor…uh…Ray brought her in today. He found her…he found her unresponsive outside my house.”

The receptionist began to calmly look through the information on her computer. “Your name, sir?”

“Curtis Cook.”

“Hmm…oh, yes. Curtis Cook. Haven. Ray…” she muttered Ray’s last name. “Yes. Let’s have you go into room number three.” The receptionist got up and walked around the desk and slowly led Curtis to room number three. They stepped inside. “The veterinarian will be with you in a few minutes.”

Curtis watched the receptionist close the door leaving him sitting on the wooden bench with his back against the wall. As he stared at the examining table a yard or so in front of him, his stomach tied into knots. A cloak of dread encircled his shoulders and the weight of it made him hang his head. As he gazed at the floor, he saw a thin crack in the polished cement. He wondered how it got there. He breathed as deeply as he could, his ears perked to the sound of voices outside the door moving about in the restricted medical area where his little dog was, and he could not go.

After about fifteen minutes passed the receptionist knocked on the outside door. “I just wanted to let you know we have coffee, tea, hot chocolate, hot cider and some snacks out here,” she said.

“Thanks,” Curtis replied just wanting to see the doctor.

She left and several more minutes passed. Finally, the handle on the doctor’s side door turned and another young woman entered. “Hello, I’m Kit, Dr. Thoroughgood’s nurse,” she said marching up to the screen by the examining table. “He’s the one who’s been caring for Haven. He’ll be in in just a moment.”

“How’s Haven?” Curtis asked. “When can I see her?”

“Dr. Thoroughgood will be in shortly to discuss that with you.”

“Can you tell me what happened to her?”

“Dr. Thoroughgood can tell you all about that as soon as he gets here. Right now, I need to ask you a few questions. Do you have pet insurance?”

“I…no.”

“Hmm. Well, I will tell you today’s visit is going to start around six hundred dollars.”

“Six hundred dollars?”

“Yes. But we have a couple of pet insurance companies we can recommend.”

“It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?”

“Well…yes.”

Curtis stared at her blankly.

“But going forwards we recommend pet insurance to all our patients. However, since Haven is not covered, we need to know how you would like to pay for our services today.”

“Credit card I guess.”

“Well…oh, I think the doctor is coming in.”

Curtis heard the door open, and a tall strong looking man entered. He put some sanitizer on his hands from the dispenser near the door.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Thoroughgood,” the doctor said rubbing his hands together before reaching out his hand to shake Curtis’s.

Curtis reached out his hand and shook the doctor’s. Curtis noticed the doctor had a firm handshake.

“Well, Curtis. I have some bad news, I’m afraid. Haven didn’t make it.”

“What?” Curtis said stunned.

“She suffered internal bleeding from injuries she sustained from a car hitting her.”

“A car? That’s impossible. Haven is a very well-behaved dog. She never runs out into the street. And I always secure the house when I go to work.”

“I’m sorry, Curtis. But she must have found a way out and wandered into the road at the wrong time.”

Everything around Curtis turned inwards as if the world was suddenly reduced to a single breath of air. The doctor continued talking but his words were muted and useless to Curtis. Music had suddenly made an exodus from the universe.

“Again, I’m sorry mister…?”

“Cook,” Curtis heard himself say.

“By the time your neighbor drove her here there was really nothing much we could do.”

Curtis listened to the doctor’s heavy footsteps fade away as Thoroughgood walked back to the door and left.

“You can pay at the desk.”

“What?”

“You can pay at the desk, Mr. Cook,”

“Is that it?”

“We’ll give you a call tomorrow to decide how you’d like to proceed from here.”

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 SHOOTING (1966)-HBO MAX

In addition to streaming on HBO Max, The Shooting is also streaming on Crackle, Freeve, Peacock, Plex, Roko and Tubi.

The Golden Globe nominations came out two weeks ago on Monday, December 11th and reminded me of how far American film has fallen. Three of the six Best Dramatic Film nominations are foreign films and all three are also nominated for Best Motion Picture – Non-English Language. American films of late have little to no imagination or originality. And so, this week my pick is something completely different. If only American film making could get back to this level.

Listed at number twenty-one on Rotten Tomatoes 100 best westerns of all time and easily one of the most intriguing films I’ve ever had the pleasure to see is this fantastic enigma called The Shooting. This film is a puzzle, a riddle even, and one where you must pay attention to every single detail because if you don’t you won’t understand the fabulous home run of an ending this masterpiece delivers (albeit I may have liked it better without the slow-motion effect). Take notice of the character’s names, especially their meanings, and the use of color throughout. The film is directed by Monte Hellman and written by Carole Eastman. Hellman did not have Eastman rewrite any of the script. However, he started filming on page ten to take out expository material about Gashade’s ride back to the camp, which only worked to make the script even stronger.

Willet Gashade (Warren Oats), a former bounty hunter turned miner, returns tired and worn out to his peaceful mining camp after a long absence to find one of his partners Leland Drum (B.J. Merholz) dead and buried with a makeshift tombstone and his other partner child-like Coley (Will Hutchins) aiming to shoot anyone who comes by. Willet’s brother Coigne appears to be missing.

After Willet manages to get Coley to calm down, Willet tells Coley he believes someone had been tracking him as he made his way back to the camp. Coley tells Willet that a couple of days ago Leland and Coigne had gone into town, had too much to drink and Coigne had accidentally trampled a man and a child. Willet asks if they are dead, and Coley says he believes they likely are. Two days ago, Coigne took off, and shortly after someone came to the camp and shot and killed Leland, likely in retaliation. But Coley hid and was unable to make out the identity of the shooter.

The next day a young woman (Millie Perkins) shoots her horse dead on the hills directly above the camp. The gunshot alerts Willet and Coley and then they see her standing above them. She comes into their camp, asks to purchase a horse, and offers Gashade money to help take her to Kingsley but refuses to tell them her name. Gashade reluctantly agrees and their strange adventure begins.

Rounding out the cast is a young Jack Nicholson who plays a sadistic gunslinger named Billy Spear. Nicholson also co-produced the film along with Hellman and executive producer Roger Corman. John Herman Shaner was associate producer.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Seven

Good afternoon. Normally Gigi would be introducing the blog but this week I am. I am the one known as Him. And I want to give you my side of the story. These dogs are a pain in the neck. Spoiled to a fault. I mean they whine when they want to go outside, they whine when they want a treat, they whine when it’s suppertime and they whine when they want to sit on your lap. And then when one sits in your lap the other one either protests or starts a fight. They get me up at six in the morning. Sometimes five. Maybe if I were a farmer that would be acceptable. But I’m no farmer and this is insane. I don’t know how Gigi’s novelist puts up with these two. I’m about ready to trade them in on a mutt. There are some seriously nice dogs in the pound who would love a home and would be better behaved. Maybe I should box these two up and make a trade.

Are you talking to my audience?

Yes, I’m talking to your audience, Gigi. And I’m telling them what a pain in the neck you are.

That is most rude.

Yeah, I don’t think so.

And why aren’t you wrapping my Christmas gifts.

Your Christmas gifts? You’re on the naughty list, poodle. You’re not getting any Christmas gifts.

I am not on the naughty list. Santa sent me a letter saying so.

Santa sent you a letter. Right.

I have it right here. Allow me to read it: “Dear Gigi, you are no longer on the naughty list. You will be getting lots of presents this year. Sincerely, Santa Claus”. See. Now go wrap my gifts.

Why should I wrap you gifts if Santa Claus is going to deliver them to you?

Because…

I am Tucker and I am a Maltese. I am now going to bark the song Jingle Bells.

What? Not again! You dogs suck!

Listen to Him. Do not bark that stupid…

I just wanted to wish your audience Happy Holidays., Gigi

I…well…okay.

Maybe we should all wish your audience Happy Holidays.

Okay. Fine. Him, what do you think?

Sure, why not.

Okay one the count of three. One, two, three!

Happy Holidays!

And now here is Chapter Seven of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Joyeux Noël!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Seven

On Wednesday afternoon at exactly 12:15 PM, Makenna and Lance pulled up along the sidewalk of the street where Curtis’s duplex resided.

“Have you got your ski mask?” Makenna asked.

“Right here,” Lance said waving it around.

Makenna scowled. “Don’t be an idiot. Stick it in your hoodie pocket and don’t take it out until I say so.”

“Yeah, alright, okay, whatever.”

“It’s stupidity like this that makes me not want you tagging along.”

“I put the ski mask away, okay? Get a grip. Sheesh.”

“We’re going to follow the plan exactly as we planned it. Otherwise, we’re going to get caught. And I don’t want to get caught. Just like I don’t want to get caught cheating on my taxes.”

“You cheat on your taxes?”

“I just…I don’t want to get caught.”

“Alright, already. We’ll follow the plan exactly as we planned it.”

“Now let’s put our hoods up and get out of the car.” Makenna and Lance disembarked Makenna’s BMW and headed quietly up the street towards Curtis’s duplex. “Keep your hood up and your head down. The place likely has some sort of surveillance system.”

“I guessed Cook the Books probably had one.”

“More likely the landlord had something installed. You’ve got Grady’s dog crate, right?”

“I thought you were bringing it.”

“No, we agreed on this. You would bring the dog crate and I would put the dog in it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” Makenna threw up her hands. “Let’s go back to the car and get the crate. We’re losing time.”

“I’m sorry.”

“This is the second reason I didn’t want you involved with this part of the plan.”

“You can’t do this kidnapping alone, Makenna.”

“Yes, I can. And don’t use my name. Who knows what kind of audio recording is listening to us around here.”

“You are so paranoid.”

“Only because you tagged along. If you didn’t, I’d have the dog in the car and be on my way to the safe house by now.”

They arrived at the car and Makenna popped the trunk. Lance reached in and grabbed the handle of Grady’s dog carrier. They adjusted their hoods and headed on route to Curtis’s duplex. Makenna motioned for Lance to head around to the back yard. Lance circled right, and she circled left. They met in the backyard which had a simple patch of green lawn and was surrounded by a wooden fence with a gate which they both entered. Makenna snuck up to the back door and took a few small thin metal tools out of her pocket and began to work the latch on the door.

“Can you actually open that?” Lance asked. Makenna glared at him and continued picking the lock. There was a click and Makenna turned the knob. They entered Curtis’s duplex and looked around. “Where do you think the surveillance camera is?”

Makenna scanned the apartment. She glanced up and thought she saw a camera in the upper right corner where the kitchen and living room met. “Up there,” she said.

Lance reached into his hoodie and produced a can of spray paint. “This ought to do the trick,” he thought, popped open the can and sprayed the lens.

“What are you doing?” Makenna snapped.

“I’m making sure the camera doesn’t incriminate us.”

“Don’t! Just…never mind.” She looked over and saw the bedroom door was cracked open. “I’ll bet the little furball is in there.”

“Ah,” Lance said and slid over to her. Makenna put her finger to her lips and gently pushed open the door. Inside they saw the small Yorkie, alert and sitting up on Curtis’s bed watching them. “You’re a cutie.”

“Shut up,” Makenna hissed. “You’re going to startle it.”

Haven yipped.

“Shh,” Lance said to Haven. Haven yipped again.

“Get out of here,” Makenna told Lance and pointed to the door.

“But…”

“Get out of this room.”

Haven yipped relentlessly. Makenna crept over to the side of the bed and sat down. She slowly extended her hand towards Haven. Haven cowered backwards into the pillows her bright green hair bow twitching slightly as she went.

Makenna reached into her pocket and produced a small Ziplock bag. She unzipped it, took out a treat, and held it out for Haven. “Come here, sweetie. I’ve got a goodie for you.” Haven cautiously crept closer, craned her neck forwards, and sniffed the treat. As she did Makenna leaned in closer. Haven did not like this and hopped back.

“Come on, sweetie.”

Haven remained cautious and did not move. Makenna narrowed her eyes and scooted closer. “Come on. Take the treat.”

Haven looked at the treat then at Makenna. She wagged her tail. Makenna leaned in closer. Then closer. Suddenly, Haven flew off the bed and took off for the door.

“Rotten little mutt!” Makenna yelled.

Lance, who had left the front door cracked open, didn’t see the little dog scurry past him and wiggle through the breach until it was too late. “Uh, oh,” he muttered warily.

Makenna burst out of the bedroom like a frenzied ferret. “Get that thing, you idiot!”

Lance lurched for the front door and burst outside to find Haven sitting on the grass looking at them wagging her tail and panting.

“Come to daddy,” Lance said as he took a slow step towards the dog. “Come on…come to daddy…”

The second Lance was in arms reach, Haven turned and ran. Now on a normal day there would be no traffic on the street in front of Curtis’s duplex. Today, however, one of the neighbors was having flowers delivered. When Haven took off, she bolted towards the oncoming delivery truck.

Makenna heard the engine rumbling down the street. “No!” she yelled as she ran towards the sidewalk. “Stop!”

The truck’s tires screeched to a halt.

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: METROPOLITAN (1990)-HBO MAX

Here is a Christmas movie many of you have probably not seen. Before the television shows Gossip Girl and Gossip Girl there was this more sophisticated and smarter film which contains a lot less soap factor and a lot more wit. Featuring a young and at that time mostly unknown cast (for many of them it was their first major motion picture) the story is set in Manhattan during the holiday season which is also what is known as the Deb (debutante) Season where the young wealthy teenage elite meander through a course of various parties dressed in haute couture dresses and black and white tie tuxedos. The more interesting time they spend together is the downtime after the parties than the parties themselves. The kids who are required to pair off and escort each other to these shindigs often end up gathering in one of the parent’s swanky townhouses late at night sitting about and discussing, or at least attempting to discuss cultural and philosophical ideologies. Or at least as best as teenagers can do in their own microcosm of a world. The film has a bit of a different flavor from the John Hughes films of that time, but it is still amusing, engaging, and interesting to watch. 

The film was written and directed by Whit Stillman, and it is an impressive feature debut. It remains a charming, cultured comedy for those out there who would like to try something different from the usual holiday fare. The cast includes Carolyn Farina, Edward Clements, Chris Eigeman, Taylor Nichols, Allison Parisi, Dylan Hundley, Isabel Gillies, Ellia Thompson, Dylan Hundley, and Will Kempe.  

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Six

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter six of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week has been most depressing. My novelist has fallen ill and has remained in her room for the last couple of days. The Maltese and I are being looked after by…Him. Him is a reluctant dogsitter. Him is under the impression we are spoiled. Spoiled indeed! It is not spoiled to want to go on walks. It is not spoiled to expect meals at a certain time. It is not spoiled to be able to sleep on my regular bed (although the bed I am borrowing is comfortable). And it is not spoiled to want my novelist back. I am heartbroken. I sit outside her door and whimper mournfully. My holiday season has come to a screeching halt. I am concerned Santa may not come. We still do not have our Christmas tree up. We have not hung our stockings. We have not decked our halls. Woe is me. Woe is me. Not only am I stuck with the Maltese I am stuck with…Him. I am hoping my precious novelist is on the mend and will reemerge tomorrow. Until then my heart is dourer. But being a professional I must power through. And so, dear reader, I bring you chapter six of Certified Sadistic Accountant and hope your holiday season has been jollier than mine.  

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Six

Curtis entered the office Tuesday morning on time (his on time). The last thing he wanted to do this weekend was head up to his Aunt Odette’s cabin on Big Lake and take old dusty paintings down off a wall and put them in whatever packaging she had stored in her attic.

He headed into the breakroom to brew himself a cup of coffee to take to his desk and sulk. To his surprise he found Fia already there filling the tea chest.

“Good morning,” she said with a lilt in her voice.

“When did you get here?” he asked.

“Daddy and I got here at seven-fifteen.”

“Mr. Dupree is here?”

“He’s in his office.”

“I’m always the first one in.”

“I guess we beat you.”

“I guess.”

“How come you don’t stop at The Steamed Bean before you come to work like the other accountants?”

“I’m trying to save up some money.”

“Money for what?”

“My future.”

“How’s that going so far?”

“Well, acually.”

“Are you going to buy a new car or something?”

“No. Sometimes saving money isn’t about buying something.”

Just then, Dallas Dupree entered the break room.

“Good morning, Mr. Dupree,” Curtis said.

“Morning, Cook. My daughter is going to shadow Bexley today.”

“Oh, good.”

“Don’t get any fresh ideas.”

“Dad,” Fia said embarrassed.

“Sir, I…,” Curtis said equally embarrassed.

“Truth is her mother just wants to get her out of the house. I think our croissants just arrived.”

Curtis headed for the door, but Fia blocked him. “No, no, no,” she said. “I will let her in.” Fia glided over and opened the door. “Good morning! Welcome!”

“Who are you?” the girl asked, bringing in the pink cardboard box of fresh croissants.

“I’m Mr. Dupree’s daughter but today I’m the receptionist.”

“Groovy,” the girl said and handed the box of croissants to Fia.

“Dad, where do you want these?”

“In the breakroom,” Dallas Dupree said.

Fia took the box and headed into the breakroom. Dallas walked up to the delivery girl and handed her a tip, “Thank you, sport,” he said. “My daughter is going to be the receptionist while Bexley’s on vacation.”

“Cool,” sport said. “My sister went on spring break. She spent all her spring quarter tuition money.”

“I see.” Dallas was delighted he had never let his daughter go on spring break. Her internet shopping sprees were terrifying enough.

Fia returned from the break room and said, “I’m going to The Steamed Bean to get a skinny vanilla cappuccino with whipped cream and pastel sprinkles.”

“The coffee I have stocked here is excellent,” Dallas said. “I picked out a special brew just for the office.”

Fia looked at her father blankly.

“I drink it every day,” Curtis said holding up his cup. “And it’s a lot better than buying an overpriced cup of coffee that, over the course of a year, will cost you your total annual IRA contribution.”

“Fine,” Fia said, tension in her voice. “I’ll drink your coffee, daddy.” Then she headed back to the break room.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, sport?” Mr. Dupree asked the delivery girl.

“I’m not allowed to drink coffee,” she said. “My parents won’t let me.”

“Well…good for them. We’ll see you tomorrow, sport.”

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Dupree.”

“See you tomorrow, sport,” Curtis said cheerily.

The delivery girl looked at Curtis, grimaced, and left.

“Daddy,” Fia called from the break room. “Do you have any Italian syrups in here?”

“For coffee?” Dallas asked.

“Yes.”

“There’s refined sugar, raw sugar, fake sugar and local honey.”

“Yuck. Okay, well, I’ll figure it out.”

Dallas sighed and said to Curtis, “I can’t keep up with the changing trends these kids are into.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dupree. “I know your coffee is excellent.”

“Thank you, Cook. But I think you and I are the only ones who drink it.”

Mr. Dupree headed upstairs to his office. A couple minutes later Bexley unlocked the front door and stomped inside. She tossed her skull patterned umbrella into the umbrella holder, threw up her hands and announced, “My bags are packed.”

“That’s so exciting,” Fia said jubilantly as she emerged from the break room holding her cup of coffee. “You’ll have so much fun.”

“Yes, I will. Maybe I’ll enjoy myself so much I won’t come back. Alright, let’s go over what you need to know.”

The two young women walked behind the receptionist’s desk.

“This is the phone,” Bexley said pointing to the phone. And these are the buttons. “If a call comes in you press this button, pick up the handset and say, “Dupree Tax Agency, Fia speaking. How may I direct your call?” And when they tell you whom they want to talk to you push the button again and then push the button of the person they want to talk to. I’ve got a chart here to show you which number corresponds to which accountant including your father.”

“Sounds easy enough,” Fia said.

“It is…until you get a second call. Then you push the second button and say, “Dupree Tax Agency, Fia speaking. May I put you on hold? Then you wait for them to say yes, push the second button again which puts the second caller on hold. You go back to the first caller by pushing the first button and say, “I’m going to transfer you now,” and then you push the first button again and then dial the corresponding number of the accountant they want to talk to and then you push the button of the second caller and say, “How may I direct your call?” Then you wait for them to say whom they want to be transferred to and then you push the second button, dial the number of the accountant they want to talk to and transfer them to that accountant.”

“What if there’s a third caller?”

“You do the whole thing except you have to say to the third caller, “Dupree Tax Agency, Fia speaking. May I put you on hold?” And then you wait for them to say you can put them on hold, push the third caller’s button, take care of the first caller, get back to the second caller and ask them who they want to be transferred to, push their button, then dial the accountant’s number, get back to the third caller, ask them which accountant they want to be transferred to, transfer them and then you take a big drink of coffee and go back to reading your book.”

“Wow.”

“It’s not as confusing as it sounds. You also greet clients as they come in and direct them to their accountant. Then you go back to reading your book. I’ve read a lot of books doing this job.”

“Is there anything else you do?”

“If I’m bored, I water the plants and if I’m really bored, I clean up the breakroom.”

“The breakroom always looks spotless.”

“I get really bored a lot.”

Fia turned and caught Curtis looking at Bexley and her. They stared at each other for a second before Curtis averted his eyes and focused on his computer screen.

Just then there was a knock on the front door and the two young women turned to see the four accountants standing there with pastel coffee cups in their hands. Fia walked around the receptionist desk to let them in. She glanced at Curtis. He did not look up at her. She unlocked the door and the accountants entered and headed for their desks.

“Hey, Cook the Books,” Lance said enroute to his chair.

“Good morning,” Curtis replied.

Lance looked at Curtis’s and noticed Curtis had a picture of Haven sitting there wearing a purple ribbon in her hair. “Still got that dog?”

“Yes,” Curtis said. He’d had the picture sitting on his desk for nearly a year and found it odd Lance asked about it now. “Why? Are you thinking about getting a dog?”

“Something like that.” He nodded his head at the receptionist desk. “Dupree’s daughter’s kind of cute, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, she’s pretty.”

“I’d do her.”

“I don’t think Mr. Dupree would appreciate that.”

“You’ve got to stop worrying about what the big guy thinks. Besides she’s of age.”

“It’s a good way to lose your job.” Curtis glanced at the receptionist desk. “Do you think Bexley’s going to find a boyfriend down there on spring break?”

Lance scoffed. “No.”

Curtis nodded.

“Besides, I’m going to ask her out when she gets back.”

“What? You can’t do that!”

“Why?”

“What’ll…what’ll Makenna say?”

Lance shrugged his shoulders and grinned. “I was just joking, dude. She’s never going to go out with you.”

Curtis felt his face flush. “I never said I liked her.”

“Didn’t have to.”

“You’re a douche, Lance.”

“Yeah, well you’re an easy target. And good luck with this year’s bonus award. You’re going to lose that too.”

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 KILLER (2023)-NETFLIX

This week’s pick is not for all tastes as it is not a redemptive story by any means. But it is a riveting one just the same. Similar in ways to Kill Bill and based on the French graphic novel series The Killer by Alexis “Matz” Nolent and illustrated by Luc Jacamon, the story is about a cold-blooded nameless hitman known only as The Killer (Michael Fassbender) who is methodical and unbending in his work. We watch him and listen to his thoughts as he prepares to take down the target he has been paid to assassinate. But even the best laid plans can go wrong. Knowing he is on the run he uses a series of aliases based on television characters to take varying flights. He finally returns to his compound in the Dominican Republic only to find it has been brutally invaded and his lady love Magdala (Sophie Charlotte) in the intensive care unit at the local hospital. Realizing his equally lethal peers have come crawling out of the woodwork to destroy him he decides he needs to deal with them the only way he knows how and promises Magdala’s brother Marcus (Emiliano Pernía) he will make things safe again. Thus, bringing us to the top of Chapter Two.

Rounding out the cast are Charles Parnell as The Lawyer, Hodges, Kerry O’Malley as Dolores, Claybourne’s office assistant, Arliss Howard as The Client, Claybourne, Sala Baker as The Brute and Tilda Swinton as The Expert. The characters in the story who are closer to humans tend to be the ones with names. The film is directed by the talented David Fincher.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Five

Good morning. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter five of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. The holiday season continues, and we have yet to put up our tree. As my novelist is allergic to Christmas trees, we are required to have an imitation one. We keep it in a special tree bag and every year we take it out and put our ornaments on it. I do so wish we could have a real one. My novelist would like a real one as well, but alas that is not possible. The Maltese does not have an opinion on the matter which comes as a shock to none of us. One unfortunate joy of the holiday season is sipping a cup of hot cocoa. As I am a dog, chocolate in any form (except the occasional white chocolate) is a no-no. The fragrance of it though is intoxicating. I adore the way the little marshmallows bob on top like magical buoys. Or how gorgeous whip cream encircles it like the zenith of a mountain with a small candy cane inside and green and red sprinkes adorned the top. Oh, how my heart longs for hot chocolate! But that is another matter. For now, I wish you happy holidays and present chapter five of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant.  

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Five

“We need to come up with something that’ll really catch him off-guard this time,” Lance said as the four accountants sat in the back corner of The Steamed Bean discussing their clandestine plan.

“I think he’s got to believe he won an even bigger contest than just a concert,” Irwin said. “Say, a trip to Hawaii or something like that.”

“No, no, no,” Grady said. “It must be colossal. We need to do something that will blow his mind.”

“What does he love more than anything else?” Makenna asked. “If we really want to get him this time you need to go after something he loves.”

“That’s a little sadistic, don’t you think? I mean I’m all for messing with the guy but going after something he loves? That’s nuts.”

“Didn’t he buy a dog last year or something?” Lance said.

“A dog?” Makenna said. “What kind of dog?”

“Some little pocket furball. The kind my sister would own.”

“That’s it. We’ll kidnap his dog.”

“Whoa,” Grady said. “That’s illegal.”

“So what?” Lance said. “It’ll be fun. It’s not like we’re going to get caught.”

“I don’t know,” Irwin said. “That sounds cruel. Even for us.”

“We need a way to break into his house,” Makenna said before sipping her red eye espresso.

“Do you think his place has cameras?” Lance asked.

“Of course, it has cameras. He’s a douche not an idiot.” Then she turned to Irwin and said, “Irwin, you have the best artistic sense. We need you to design the ransom note.”

“I’m flattered. I’ll do it. But I have a bad feeling about this.”

“Grady, we need you to take care of the dog.”

“I haven’t had a dog since I was a teenager. We had an Irish Wolfhound.”

“Curtis has a lap dog. It will be an easier experience than taking care of an Irish Wolfhound.”

“I don’t know,” Lance said. “My great aunt had a Maltese, and he was horrible. Always waking her up in the middle of the night wanting to go outside. Had this relentless bark. Couldn’t train it to stop barking on command.”

“You don’t think this little rug wolf is going to keep me up all night with its barking, do you?” Grady asked.

“I sincerely doubt it,” Makenna said. “It will probably just sit in your lap and fall asleep.”

“Do you have a dog?”

“I have an iguana.”

“Whoa. That’s cool.”

“Sometimes he does unspeakable things, but I usually forgive him.”

“Okay, I’ll watch the little furball. But I’m not going to break into Cook the Book’s house just to nab the little guy.”

“I’m the one who will be breaking in. I have experience.”

“I’m breaking in with you,” Lance said.

“Not a chance. You’ll bungle the job.”

“I won’t bungle the job.”

“When was the last time you broke in and robbed someone?”

“College. I broke into a professor’s office.”                                                                                                                

“Really?” Irwin said.

“Really.”

“Fine,” Makenna said. “You can be my assistant. We’ll also need to grab the dog food Cook feeds the little puffball. We don’t want it to eat the wrong dog food. It could get sick.”

“Great,” Grady said. “That won’t be a monster sized problem or anything.”

“We’ll nab the dog food too,” Lance said. “So, when are we going to do this thing?”

“Soon,” Makenna said. “Before Tax Day if we really want to get under Cook’s collar.”

“How about Wednesday?”

“Agreed. We will do it on Wednesday. Irwin, get started on that ransom note tonight. Lance and I will break into Cook’s house at lunchtime. We’ll leave our phones at the office so there is no trace of us going there. Grady, give me a copy of your house key when we meet for coffee Wednesday morning before we head into the office. Then Lance and I can take the dog straight to your house and come back here at the end of lunch and no one will notice a thing.” 

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: UPGRADE (2014)-HBO MAX

This week’s movie is a science fiction story about artificial intelligence. And it starts out great. A few years in the future we meet Grey Chase (Logan Marshall-Green in a likeable performance) whose occupation is working on and restoring sports cars in his home garage, the kind of cars that still require a human driver. Grey is married to Asha Trace (Melanie Vallejo) who works for an AI tech company that makes self-driving cars amongst other things. One evening after Asha returns from work Grey needs to deliver one of his restored cars to a wealthy young man named Eron (Harrison Gilbertson). Grey asks Asha to accompany him and bring her self-driving car with her, so he has a ride home. When the couple arrives, which requires a long trek to get to the house, Ashe finds out Eron is Eron Keen, the peculiar but brilliant founder of one of her company’s competitors. Eron tells her in so many words her company is hardly his competitor, and he is working on a new product that will help enhance humankind and shows off his newest invention which looks a bit like a Hexbug.

The couple heads home in Asha’s self-driving car when the vehicle short circuits, takes the wrong route and crashes. Grey and Asha find themselves on the wrong side of town, with the wrong crowd “rescuing” them from their high-tech vehicle. A brutal incident occurs which ends up leaving Grey seriously injured. So injured, in fact, he may need Eron’s new product to become whole again.

The film is riveting and engaging. Logan Marshall-Green gives the film a wonderful sense of humor and I look forwards to more of his performances. The ending, though logical, falls a little short, which is sad because it is a terrific concept, well penned and on the precipice of greatness. I am not sure if the ending was writer/director Leigh Whannell’s original vision or if producers messed with it or what exactly happened. But the first three quarters of the film are smart, droll, clever, and well-paced which makes the movie well worth the watch.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Four

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter four of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Today, I have been drugged. It is a most unpleasant experience. Because I apparently have a neurotic distemper which caused me to end up in the emergency hospital. I must take medication to avoid another grooming accident. Therefore, a few hours before I am due at the groomer’s, my novelist has given me what we shall refer to as “magic peanut butter”. The first concoction the vet came up with did not affect me much at all and my novelist was concerned I would end up wiggling around as it were and wind up getting cut again. When it comes to medication, I am a heavyweight you see. And so, she went back to the veterinarian, and he gave her a new concoction which has had a slightly stronger effect. To test it my novelist had me take the medication and after two hours went by, I went for a ride in the car, an activity which I loathe. After the ride my novelist decided that this second concoction was strong enough to allow me to have partial grooming rectified and thus, I am being returned to the groomer to restore me to my beautiful self. And so, I am presently lying on the bed and relaxing as my novelist waits for the medication to take effect and then I shall…be…whisked off to that place I dread…I dread almost as much as…as the vet. Until…then…I…shall…I shall…introduce chapter…chapter…four of my…story…Certified Sadistic Accountant…ZZZ…woof…ZZZ…

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Four

Curtis had one luxury in life: a Yorkshire Terrier who had been the litter’s runt. He’d purchased the pup for half the asking price of its other brothers and sisters and named it Haven. Curtis originally wanted a larger dog, a medium sized dog even. But the five-pound Haven and he hit it off so well it was love at first sight. Curtis couldn’t imagine any other dog in his life. She was his most precious possession.

When Curtis wasn’t at work, he and Haven went everywhere together. In the warm months he would drive her to Mountain Crest Park and walk her around the pond. They would stop at a picnic table and have lunch and he would teach her tricks. In the cold months he bought her a soft wool sweater and took her to the Christmas tree lighting downtown. He even snuck her into the local theatre a couple of times by hiding her in his jacket. When the lights went down, she would crawl out and curl up on his lap quietly as he treated her with the occasional kernel of popcorn. Haven always started out sleeping at the foot of Curtis’s bed. But in the middle of the night, she would curl up beside him. Occasionally she would hear coyotes howling and she’d cuddle closer.

Curtis was certain Bexley would love Haven almost as much as he did, even though she owned three Siamese cats she’d trained as attack animals. Bexley came into work one morning talking about how the trio of felines had mistaken the pizza delivery guy for an assailant and chased him up a tree. The pizza parlor did not sue Bexley, but she did agree never to have an order delivered from them again.

When Curtis came home from work on Monday, April Fool’s Day, Haven trotted up to him, put her paw on his leg and wagged her tail gleefully. “Don’t worry,” Curtis told his furry companion. “As soon as Bexley gets back from spring break, I’ll ask her out on a date, and you’ll get to meet her cats and the three of you will become the best of friends.”

He gave Haven a pat and then went into his kitchen to make dinner. A year ago, Curtis would have a TV dinner to put in the microwave or the oven. But now he’d learned to be a relatively proficient cook and chose to make clam pasta that evening. He reached into his grocery back and took out a package of whole grain angel hair pasta, a bag of white mushrooms, a shallot, a pack of clams from the seafood department, a pound of Roma Tomatoes, a bunch of parsley, and a jar of capers.

Curtis chopped up the shallots, mushrooms, garlic, tomatoes, and parsley. He put some olive oil in a pan and sautéed the shallots, mushrooms, and garlic. Then he added in the clams and put some water on to boil. He shook some salt and pepper over the sauce and stirred it. When the water began to boil, he put in a fistful of the angel hair pasta. Then he finished the sauce with the parsley and capers.

Haven trotted into the kitchen to investigate the delightful aroma. She sniffed at the air and let out a happy bark as Curtis removed a baguette from his grocery bag, snatched a bread knife out of his wooden block and sliced three pieces of the loaf.  Haven cocked her head to one side as he buttered it.

After dinner Curtis sat on his leather love set, he’d purchased at a local furniture store when he’d moved into the duplex. Haven jumped up on the couch to join him and they were about to watch an action movie when Curtis’s phone rang. It was his dad. This surprised him as his parents hadn’t called for weeks. He was reluctant to answer it as he had really wanted to see this movie, but he picked up the phone and said, “Hello?”

“Hello, Curt, this is dad.”

“Hi, dad.”

“I just wanted to call to ask if you could do us a favor.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“You know your Aunt Odette? The one who owns a cabin out on Big Lake?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, your aunt has three paintings up there: one in the living room and one in each bedroom.”

“Those old oil paintings?”

“Yes, those. She was wondering if you could go up there this weekend and pick them up for her. You would need to wrap them up. She said she had some packaging supplies in the attic that would work.”

Curtis rolled his eyes. “What does she need the paintings for?”

“Apparently, she had the paintings appraised recently and they’re somewhat valuable. She wants to sell them at this auction. I’ll drive up to your place next week, pick them up and take them to her.”

“Dad, it’s tax season. I can’t just go galivanting off to Big Lake.”

“Yes, I know it’s tax season, but we really need your help on this. Your aunt wants them soon and she can’t get up there right now.”

“Why not?”

“She’s doing some sort of conference in Nova Scotia, and she just can’t make it.”

Curtis did a Picard palm face. “Alright, dad. I’ll go up to Aunt Odette’s cabin on Big Lake and pack up these…oil paintings and bring them back to my humble abode. But you’ll have to pick them up after I get home from work because I’m busy.”

“Alright, son. I’ll drop by in a week from Wednesday. I’ll get there in the evening, say seven. Does that work for you?”  

“Yeah, seven works. I’ll call you if I’m running late.”

“Sounds fantastic. I really appreciate this, son. “Your aunt will be so happy.”

“Okay, dad. I’ll see you a week from Wednesday. Tell mom hi for me.”

“I will. See you then, Curt.”

“Bye, dad.”

Curtis’s dad hung up and Haven laid her chin on Curtis’s elbow. “I have no idea how I’m going to get the time to do this, Haven,” Curtis said. “I mean this is tax season crazy time. Couldn’t they wait a couple weeks? Why do they have to do this right now. I mean Aunt Odette has had years to sell those things. But she asks my dad to fetch them now?”

Haven looked up at Curtis with sympathetic eyes. Curtis sighed, gave her a gentle pat on the head, picked up the remote and shut off the television.

“I’ll go work now,” he grumbled. “And I’ve been looking forwards to this movie.”

He picked up his little Yorkie and set her aside. Then he got up, slogged into his bedroom, and sat down at his desk. Haven hopped off the couch and trotted into Curtis’s bedroom to comfort her beloved owner.  

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 BIG LEBOWSKI (1998)-NETFLIX

This week’s movie is a great blast from the past all fans of the Cohen brothers should see and pretty much everyone else as well. I had forgotten how hilarious the film is and how great it still looks to this day, including the famous cardigan sweater designed by Pendelton. The story starts out with our narrator The Stranger (Sam Elliot) who tells us about a legend called The Dude (Jeff Bridges in an iconic role) who is an out of work laid back California guy who hangs out with his friends and fellow bowlers Theodore Donald ‘Donny’ Kerabatsos (Steve Buscemi) and Walter Sobchak (John Goodman in a fantastic performance). One day he is rudely awakened by a couple of thieves who break into his humble abode and mistake him for The Big Lebowski and foul his precious rug. Upset by the occurrence, The Dude (whose last name is also Lebowski) heads for the house of the wealthy The Big Lebowski (David Huddleston) and demands he pay to have his precious rug cleaned as The Big Lebowski was the one the criminals were after in the first place. The Dude is welcomed at the door by The Big Lebowski’s assistant Brandt (Philip Seymor Hoffman) and when The Dude meets Lebowski, Lebowski refuses to pay a dime. However, Lebowski does, after a few days, have Brandt contact The Dude concerning his trophy wife Bunny (Tarra Reed). Apparently, she was kidnaped by a trio of nihilists (Peter Stormare, Flea, and Torston Vogus) and they are demanding a ransom. The Big Lebowski wants The Dude to be his bag man.

In the meantime, Donny, Walter, and The Dude find themselves facing stiff competition in their bowling tournament against a team whose star player is Jesus Quintana (John Turturo in a scene stealing performance. In fact, the first scene between Quintana and the three guys is one of my all-time favorites). And The Dude finds himself contacted by Lebowski’s feminist adult daughter and artist Maude Lebowski (Julianne Moore) who has her own take on the kidnapping.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Three

Happy Thanksgiving! It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter three of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. I must tell you Thanksgiving has been most distressing. My novelist gave me one task: find Butterflake rolls for our Thanksgiving feast. I could not find them anywhere. Everywhere I searched there were plenty of other rolls: King’s Hawaiian rolls, dinner rolls, hard rolls, variety bag rolls. I could find every roll except Butterflake rolls. I was at my wits end. I employed the Maltese…

Gigi employed me. I am Tucker and I am a Maltese.

Yes, yes, yes. They know you are a Maltese. Anyway, I hired an Uber to drive us to all the different grocery stores to look for Butterflake rolls as poodles are not allowed to have driver’s licenses. This still irritates me. That said, I trotted into each store’s bakery department and bread aisle and searched everywhere. Shoppers kept coming up and wanting to pet me. It was more than a little rude. I merely dodged them and let them pet Tucker instead.

They pet me and it was good.

No one cares. Anyway, I checked all the bakeries and bread aisles in vain. Just as I was about to give up and use this blog as a soapbox on which to rant about the absence of Butterflake rolls from Thanksgiving, I finally located them in the bakery of the last grocery store I checked. They must have just put them out. They are different than the Butterflake rolls I am used to which have vertical sections. These are shaped more like a cinnamon roll or a whirligig with a spiral structure. They looked tasty enough so I brough them home. They are being put in the oven even as I write.

To all the grocery stores out there, I beseech you. Please do not deny me Butterflake rolls ever again during the holidays. They are the finishing touch to any holiday feast.

Yum, yum.

Hush up. Here is chapter three of Certified Sadistic Accountant. I wish you a joyful Thanksgiving dinner…hopefully with Butterflake rolls.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Three

Bexley turned and tromped over to the receptionist’s desk in her combat boots, her stack of bracelets jangling as she went. She grabbed the key and as she headed over to open the front doors, someone came tapping on the glass. Bexley peered outside and saw a familiar face. Fia Dupree, the 4.0 college student and daughter of Mr. Dallas Dupree stood there as the driver of a cab was unloading her blush colored Tumi luggage out of the trunk.

“Daddy!” she squealed as she rushed through the doors, saw Dallas, and ran towards him with open arms. Fia wore a rose-colored long-sleeved Steve Madden fit & flair mini dress, an olive-colored corduroy baseball cap, and hot pink Converse high-tops. Rhinestone Ettika earrings sparkled from her earlobes. Under her cap her blonde hair was set in large curls and long lush mink fur fake eyelashes adorned her lids.

“I thought your mother was picking you up from the train,” Dallas said somewhat confused.

“I wanted to surprise you, daddy. Besides, I think it’s fun to see where you’ve worked all my life. I remember coming here when I was a little girl and watching you do taxes.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“I remember coming here on Halloween and dressing up as a pixy or a witch and giving out candy from my Halloween bag to all the accountants.”

“I don’t remember that at all,” Lance said. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”

Makenna gave Lance a nasty look.

“You were in grade school, Lexington,” Mr. Dupree growled. 

From his desk, Curtis studied Fia. She looked different from the last time he’d seen her. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. “Congratulations on your 4.0,” he said to her.

Fia turned and looked at Curtis. He was that creepy looking nerdy guy her dad had hired a few years ago. “Thanks,” she said.

“We’d love to have you here, buttercup,” Mr. Dupree told her. “But its tax season you see.”

“I know,” Fia said a little disheartened. “I just thought it would be super fun to surprise you.”

“I’m sure the taxi driver is waiting for you. Tell him you’ve decided to go to the train station and tip him well.”

“Well…I guess I’ll go meet mom,” she said. “I’ll text her and let her know where I am.”

“Awe, let her stay,” Lance said. “We didn’t hire anyone this year as a temp accountant and the desk in the back is vacant.”

Dallas turned and glared at Lance. He did not want his daughter hanging around the office. “It would be best for Fia to head home. Best for everyone. She’s had a long quarter.”

“I get the hint, dad,” Fia said irritated. “I’m heading back out to the taxi. She turned, her blonde curls bobbing on her shoulders. 

“You know, Dallas,” Bexley said.

“Mr. Dupree,” Dallas said.

“You could hire your daughter to take my place while I’m gone.”

“Take your place?” Fia asked, turning back around.

“I’m going on spring break and your dad says he’s going to have a hard time getting a temp to fill in for me. But you know the office and the clientele well. You’ve been coming here on and off all your life. You could be the temporary receptionist while I’m gone.”

“That sounds…”

“No,” Mr. Dupree said. “Fia’s been working hard all quarter. She needs the rest.”

“I’ve been working hard too,” Bexley said. “I need a break too. You think it’s easy working for you? We get a real suck-fest of clients slogging in here telling me to smile more and wear more professional clothes. Firstly, these are professional clothes and secondly, do I look like the kind of person who smiles? There’s no way I’m going to smile at those fake and bake tanned sleaze-bag lawyers or that one farmer who always leans into the desk and tells me how good I smell. What does he think I am, an apple pie?”

“I think it would be fun,” Fia said, a lilt in her voice.

Mr. Dupree glared at Bexley. If she wasn’t such a good receptionist, he’d fire her on the spot. “The rest of my accountants agree with me. Fia should take the week off and you shouldn’t be running off to spring break.”

“I always worked during my spring break,” Curtis said. “That’s how I helped pay my way through college.

“Shut up, Cook!” Mr. Dupree snapped.

“I think it would be a great idea for your daughter to work here, sir.”

“This is going to be so much fun, daddy,” Fia said clapping her hands.

“Then we’re settled,” Bexley said. “I’ll start packing tonight.”

“It’s a dream come true,” Fia said.

“It’s going to be a nightmare,” Mr. Dupree muttered.

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: TWAS THE FIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS (2023)-APPLE TV+

This week’s pick is a documentary about a lawyer who wants to decorate his house with many, many lights and decorations and invite anyone who wants to swing by, and he’ll supply hot chocolate, cotton candy and other goodies. But his local Homeowner Association does not want him to do it. Seems like a lightweight silly story. Except it’s not. It’s a microcosm of present-day America and at times its downright chilling. An examination of a wolf or wolves who wear sheep’s clothing.

The tale takes place in Idaho in a quiet neighborhood where every house is a McMansion. Jeremy Morris is a lawyer who starts out by showing us his storage unit neatly packed with an abundance of Christmas ornaments, some which he inherited and others which he purchased himself. That is how many decorations this guy has. Even though he lives in a McMansion he still needs a neatly arranged but near full storage unit to store his Christmas decorations. He is fascinated not just by Christmas but also by American Heritage motifs. And he says his mission in life is to save Christmas. He claims his hero is Clark Griswald from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. He also appears to like The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. It is unclear, however, if he has ever seen or was inspired by A Charlie Brown Christmas or The Little Drummer Boy. Jeremy is a graduate of Liberty University School of Law. He originally wanted the documentary to be a multiple part series and contacted the director Becky Reed on more than one occasion to let her know.

Prior to Jeremy and his wife and three young children moving into the opulent Idaho neighborhood, Jeremy had a house in the city limits where he abundantly decorated it with lights and decorations. He invited an extensive crowd of holiday revelers to come view it. He didn’t, however, want or thought he needed to get a permit for his festivity which, after he decided to advertise it online began getting hundreds of hits. And so, he and his wife decided to find a house outside of the city limits to host an even larger Christmas event.

Jeremy and his wife did not purchase a farmhouse on a large piece of property with no one around for acres. Nor did they purchase a large empty lot with no one around for acres and build a house on it. Instead, they chose a house in a Homeowner Association neighborhood where all the residents who live there have a document of laws they agree to live by and depend on the same streets to get in and out. A fair number of said residents are retired.

Interviews with Jeremy’s parents tell us what Jeremy was like as a child, what his childhood was like, and his lifelong ambitions. I would encourage you to carefully watch the last scene with them and listen intently to what they have to say about their son.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Two

Good morning. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce the second chapter of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week my novelist had me do a test drive on some new medication so that when I go into get my grooming, I will not have another mishap. The medication is designed to help me relax more and not be as high-strung. We poodles are quite high-strung, but I am higher-strung than most. I detest travel and as my novelist needed to go somewhere this weekend, I accompanied her. I took my medication a couple of hours before we left to see if the dosage the veterinarian suggested worked. It did not. I was not phased at all. I was in complete charge of my faculties. My novelist was aghast. She was hoping the quarter pill the doctor prescribed would be sufficient for me as it is a rather large and potent pill, and I only weigh six pounds. But apparently, I am a heavyweight, and my novelist must call the veterinarian to ask how much more she can up my dosage. In the meantime, I was given a bath which was awful but not as awful as usual as my novelist tried to make it short, calming, and succinct. This I was grateful for. I relaxed the rest of the day writing in the late afternoon to prepare for my blog post. And so, here it is, chapter two of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Disfrutar!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Two

Right after Sport left, the door opened and two of the accountants, Grady, and Irwin, entered the agency. They were each carrying a pastel-colored cup with “The Steamed Bean” printed on them with an Easter Bunny below the words.

“Hey, Cook the Books,” Grady said. “How’s it hanging?”

“It’s hanging well,” Curtis replied. “I think it’s going to be an outstanding tax season.”

“Think you might win the big prize this year?”

“I think we’re all hoping to win the big prize,” Curtis said forcing a smile.

Grady grinned at Irwin who grinned back. “Yeah, you keep hoping, Cook,” Irwin said and took a pull off his coffee.

Just then the other two accountants Makenna and Lance strolled into the office. They too each carried a pastel cup with “The Steamed Bean” printed on it with a little yellow chick below the words.

“Sup dudes,” Lance said running his fingers through his freshly cut hair. Lance always had his hair cut at Satin, a barbershop for men where the stylists were young women who wore bikinis. “Where’s the big guy?”

“Mr. Dupree is up in his office,” Curtis said.

“You would know, wouldn’t you Cook the Books. Say, what time do you get here every day? “You’re always here before the rest of us.”

“I…just try to be prompt.”

“I think you’re more than prompt. I don’t think you have anything else to do with your time.”

“I have lots of things to do with my time,” Curtis said absentmindedly picking up a Rubik’s Cube off his desk and fiddling with it.   

“Yeah? What did you do last night after you got home from work?”

“I walked in the door and fixed myself something to drink.”

“What did you drink?”

“I made myself a cup of Citron Green Tea.”

“That’s not a drink, Cook.”

“Sure, it is. It’s a beverage.”

“A shot of bourbon is a drink. A glass of scotch is a drink. A pina colada is a drink. Citron Green Tea is not a drink.”

Curtis narrowed his eyes. Lance was a grade A jerk. “Citron Green Tea is good for you. I like to live a healthy life.”

“But you don’t live much, do you?”

“What did you do after you fixed your tea?” Makenna asked with a smirk.

“I looked over my finances,” Curtis said.

“How are your finances doing?”

“Quite well, actually.” Curtis smiled at Makenna who stared him down like he was a rat. This caused Curtis to sink low into his chair.

Just then Bexley the receptionist hurried inside. She shook out her skull patterned umbrella and tossed it into the large metal umbrella holder by the receptionist desk. The group of accountants turned towards her and saw it had started to pour down rain outside.

“It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” she said setting her pastel cup with “The Steamed Bean” printed on the front with a picture of a duck underneath the words.

Bexley stomped behind the receptionist desk in her combat boots and straightened her ankle-length skirt. “Is Dupree in yet?”

“He’s upstairs,” Curtis told her.

“I need to talk to him,” she said, fiddling with the jingly bracelet-stack on her arm.

“What about?” Lance asked.

“I’m going on spring break.”

“But it’s tax season. We need a receptionist.”

“Dupree can get a substitute receptionist. It’s not like this job requires thinking or something.”

“Is this an April Fool’s joke?” Makenna asked.

“No, this is not an April Fool’s joke.”

“Good morning, troops,” Dallas Dupree said opening the door of his upstairs office and dancing down the stairs. “Are we ready to have a great tax season?”

“I need to talk to you, Dupree,” Bexley said marching up to him.

Mr. Dupree,” he said correcting her. “Come up to my office.”

“Here’s fine.”

“Okay. Let her rip.”

“I’m going on spring break.”

“Spring break? What do you mean spring break? It’s tax season!”

“I’m leaving for Palm Springs on Thursday.”

“Thursday?”

“There’ll be a lot more people at the airport on Friday. Besides the Thursday flight was cheaper.”

“Is this an April Fool’s joke?”

“No, this is not an April Fool’s joke.”

Mr. Dupree turned to the group of accountants. “Is this an April Fool’s joke?”

“No, this is not an April Fool’s Joke,” they said in unison.

“Let me get this straight. Our receptionist has decided during the busiest time of the year to take off for Palm Springs and take part in spring break. Come to your senses, Bexley. Wait until May. It’s a beautiful time to take a vacation and you could avoid the crowds at Palm Springs or almost anywhere else that time of year.”

“Look, Dupree…”

Mr. Dupree.”

“…if I want any chance of finding a boyfriend, and let’s face it this place isn’t exactly rolling in eligible bachelors, I need to go on spring break.”

“Spring break is the worst place and time to find a boyfriend. All anyone does at spring break destinations is hook up and party.”

“You know that from personal experience, Dupree?”

Mr. Dupree and that isn’t the point. The point is you are being remarkably selfish and unprofessional. When you took this job, you knew this was a tax accounting agency and that tax time almost always occurs in April. I need you to be managing the front desk at this time of year taking phone calls and greeting clients.”

“My priorities have shifted. I’ve decided I’m too young not to have a social life. Besides, you could just hire a temp while I’m away.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to hire a temp these days?”

“You hired me as a temp, didn’t you?”

“Originally, but…”

“It’s only for a week.”

“It’s almost time to open the doors,” Dallas said exasperated. “Get to work at the receptionist desk and we’ll discuss this later.”

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: A HAUNTING IN VENICE (2023)-HULU

This week’s pick is a good old fashioned ghost story adapted from the book Hallowe’en Party by Agatha Christie. Sir Kenneth Branagh has been reintroducing the Hercule Poirot character to modern movie audiences starting in 2017 with Murder on the Orient Express, and later with Death on the Nile in 2022 . A Haunting in Venice is probably my favorite so far. The film deviates a bit from the novel. Set in Venice, the story begins with the famed opera singer Rowena Drake (Kelly Reilly) hosting a seance to try and speak to her young adult daughter who drowned. Retired detective Hercule Poirot (Sir Kenneth Branagh) is urged to go to the party by his friend, famed mystery writer Ariadne Oliver (Tina Fey). Oliver has been trying to expose nurse turned medium Joyce Reynolds (Michelle Yeoh) but cannot figure out how she performs her seances and hopes Hercule might be able to figure it out.

Reluctantly, Poirot goes to the séance, skeptical of Reynold’s ability to talk to the deceased. Poirot arrives to find out that the home Rowena Drake lives in is supposedly haunted by children. At first, he is suspicious of the experience, until one of the members of the party is murdered and he begins to see a little girl appear to him in different parts of the house who looks like she could be Rowena’s daughter.

The film is wonderfully moody and has a gorgeous set design by John Paul Kelly and beautiful cinematography by Haris Zambarloukos. Branagh’s directing is top notch as always and all the performances are first rate. A classy mystery for grownups. 

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter One

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle back to introduce the first chapter of my new story Certified Sadistic Accountant.  I am delighted to say that my cone came off yesterday. My novelist will be getting me a new grooming appointment soon which is less delightful but at least I no longer have my cone. I got to go on my first walk in two weeks yesterday. I cannot tell you how fantastic it was to get out and move about. I was agog. I am filled with excitement over my new story. I wondered if I should have chosen to pen something with more of a holiday flavor as we are amid the holiday season. But I think it will be an enjoyable tale just the same and hopefully a rather engrossing one. And so, without further ado I present chapter one of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Jouir!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter One

On a cold and dreary April Fool’s Day, Curtis Cook, accountant and esquire parked his pale green Honda Accord in the small back parking lot of the Dupree Accounting Agency. The agency was a two-story brick building nestled in the downtown area of a modestly sized city of 35,000 people. Curtis loved tax season because it was the one time of year he really shined. The Dupree Accounting Agency employed four other accountants. And although said accountants had graduated from better business schools than Curtis, none of them were as adept as he. So good was Curtis at accounting, they nicknamed him Cook the Books. This, however, was not a term of endearment.

Despite his status as a master accountant, Curtis had never been one to make friends easily. In fact, Curtis didn’t have any real friends at all. His fellow accountants were always playing tricks on him like turning his computer screen upside down, wrapping his chair and desk in Saran Wrap, and crank calling him at lunch to tell him he’d won free tickets to a concert. These petty pranks did not go unnoticed by Mr. Dallas Dupree, founder, owner, and head honcho of the Dupree Accounting Agency. Mr. Dupree also harbored jealousy towards his exceptional employee. But he loved the steady stream of clientele Cook brought into his firm. Cook didn’t have a great rapport with the clients, but he was able to find loopholes and windfalls that none of the other accountants could find. And so, although he often praised Cook for his extraordinary accounting skills, Mr. Dupree turned a blind eye to Curtis’s persecution.

As Curtis entered the offices of The Dupree Accounting Agency that morning, he instinctively knew this was going to be an unusually good tax season. Perhaps one of the best of his career. And he was on track to reach another professional milestone. Despite being only twenty-six years old he was about to make his first $100,000. All those nights coming home to his small barely furnished duplex and sitting at his lonely breakfast nook working on his stocks, watching their performances, selling this, and buying that were starting to pay off.

The first thing Curtis did each morning when he arrived at work was make a fresh cup of coffee from the coffee maker in the break room. The other four accountants always purchased espresso from The Steamed Bean just around the corner from The Dupree Accounting Agency. Curtis used honey to sweeten his coffee since he’d read somewhere honey was healthier than sugar. And since Mr. Dupree always stocked the breakroom with raw honey from one of the local farms, he figured why not add it to his coffee.

Curtis was running late that morning and unable to make his favorite oatmeal he always purchased from the co-op located around the opposite corner from The Steamed Bean at the end of the street. But Mr. Dupree always ordered fresh croissants every morning from a little local bakery two blocks down from The Steamed Bean and around the corner on a side street. They would be delivering them in fifteen minutes. But Curtis at the ripe age of twenty-six had become health conscience since graduating from college and had only tried the croissants once…on his twenty-sixth birthday. Today, however, was…unusual. It was the only day he’d ever been late. It is important to point out that Curtis was not actually late. But in Curtis’s mind he was. He always arrived at work thirty minutes early. Today he arrived twenty minutes early. He was still the first person in the office.

Curtis picked up his coffee and went out into the main office area which included a receptionist desk and six accountant desks. Only five of the desks were filled…except during tax season when a temporary employee occupied the sixth seat. Curtis sat down in his ergonomic chair and looked outside the large front windows facing the street. It was a typical April morning: cool and damp with a slight drizzle. Alexa had told him there would be thundershowers in the late afternoon. Curtis was not a big fan of thundershowers as they made for fewer clients. And at this time of the year Curtis wanted all the clients he could take on. In fact, Curtis was hoping to increase his number of clients this year by fifteen percent. He thought that was a good number as Tax Day was April 15th. Mr. Dupree was once again offering a bonus for the most successful accountant. Curtis wanted that prize money. He was sure he should have won the past two years. But two years ago, the prize money went to Lance Lexington and last year it went to Makenna Russo.

Curtis looked up and saw Mr. Dallas Dupree enter the office. He wore, as he often did, a navy-blue double-breasted wool suit with a silk olive green tie and pocket square, and a pair of black Bruno Magli loafers. “Morning, Curt,” Mr. Dupree said.

“Good morning, Mr. Dupree,” Curt replied.

“Have the croissants arrived yet?”

“Not yet.”

 Mr. Dupree checked his Tissot Classic Dream Black Dial Steel Quartz Watch. “I was thinking of not having them set out in the breakroom today. Keep them in my office for a while. A little April Fool’s joke, you see.”

“That sounds like a plan, Mr. Dupree.”

“I think you’re right. I will hide the croissants.” Mr. Dupree headed over to the front door and gazed outside at the melancholy weather. “My daughter is coming home for Spring Break this Friday.”

“It’s her senior year, isn’t it?”

“It certainly is.”

“You must be very proud.”

“I was hoping she’d get a degree in Accounting like her father, but it looks like she’ll be getting a degree in Wingnut like her mother.”

“What degree is Wingnut, sir?”

“Performance Art. What is my daughter going to do with a degree in Performance Art? When I was in college, they never had a degree in Performance Art. I mean, you could get all kinds of oddball degrees like Cosmetology, Philosophy and General Studies. Useless things like that. But Performance Art takes the cake. Instead of buying her a college ring for graduation I might just as well purchase her a pup tent and an orange bucket. Maybe I could throw in some drumsticks so she could busk.”

“Is she heading off to grad school?”

“With scholarships no less. Apparently, that’s what they give you when you earn a 4.0 in Performance Art. The collegiate world wastes even more money by throwing it at you.”

Just then the kid from the bakery showed up with the box of croissants.  

“There she is, right on time,” Mr. Dupree said opening the door for the teen. “How are you, sport?”

“Just fine, Mr. Dupree,” she said. “I brought your baker’s dozen croissants.”

“Isn’t that marvelous. I’ll go ahead and take those from you.”

“Don’t you want me to set them in the breakroom?”

“Not today, sport. I’m going to hide them upstairs for a while. It’s a little April Fool’s joke I’m playing on the employees.”

“Okay,” she said handing him the large pink cardboard box. “Happy April Fool’s Day, Mr. Dupree.”

“Happy April Fool’s Day, sport.” Mr. Dupree gave her a tip, took the croissants, and headed upstairs to his office.

“Happy April Fool’s Day,” Curtis said to Sport.

The girl gave him a blank stare as if he were the creepiest guy she’d ever seen and left. Curtis felt a twinge of embarrassment. The same embarrassment he felt around members of the opposite sex. Especially the receptionist, Bexley. He’d had a crush on her ever since he’d started. Bexley always wore her straight dark brown hair in two braids and had textured bangs. Sometimes, when she didn’t feel like braiding it, she tied it off in sections with hairbands. She had steel blue eyes which she accentuated with heavy eyeliner and liked to wear orange lipstick to accentuate her lips. She had a stack of bracelets on her wrist that jingle-jangled and she tromped around the office in black leather combat boots and always called Mr. Dupree either “Dupree” or “Dallas”. Her complete disregard for respect made her even more luminous.

Curtis’s dream was to make enough money to impress Bexley. He often visualized scenarios of taking her out to a movie and to the best steakhouse in town…although he was certain she was a vegetarian. If he could just win the competition for best accountant this year, he knew he could gather up the courage to take her on a date.

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: AMERICAN BEAUTY (1999)-NETFLIX

When I first watched the satire American Beauty, I thought it was a solid film but not a great one. As time passed and I saw it again, I began to think about what made it intriguing. What kept coming to mind was the fact that Columbine occurred on April 20, 1999, and the film was released (limited) on September 15, 1999. And I think the timing hit a nerve with a lot of critics and film goers when it first came out.

How could a placid upper middle-class community like Columbine, Colorado, suddenly erupt into violence? The same question could be applied to American Beauty. How could a placid upper-middle class community in California suddenly erupt into violence? Why don’t we see the deadly wave coming and why do we do near nothing to stop it?

American Beauty did not set out to make a statement on mass shootings. And the film isn’t about mass shootings. But its roots are in American suburban violence. Alan Ball was initially inspired to write the script based on a highly publicized bizarre true crime love triangle where a 16-year-old girl named Amy Fisher had an affair with a 35-year-old man named Joey Buttafuoco. In 1991 after she turned 17, Amy proceeded to go to Joey’s house in Massapequa, New York, get in an argument with his then wife Mary Jo and shoot Mary Jo in the face with a .25 semiautomatic pistol. Somehow, somewhere at its core, American Beauty is a cautionary tale about the childishness of Americans, the way we focus on vanity and frivolity, and our blissful ignorance of looming treachery.

Lester Burnham (Kevin Spacey) is a middle-aged media executive who lives with his ambitious materialistic real estate agent wife Caroline (Annette Benning). They have an angst-ridden teenage daughter named Jane (Thora Birch) who is on the dance squad at school with her friend Angela (Mena Suvari). Upon attending a basketball game where the dance squad performs, Lester becomes infatuated with Angela, and begins daydreaming, examining his life, and finding ways to change to win the girl of his dreams. Lester is, however, delusional about her being underage. In the meantime, Caroline, frustrated and hungry for greater success, engages in an affair with Buddy “the King” Kane (Peter Gallagher) a successful realtor.

A new family moves in next door to the Burnhams: Former marine Col. Frank Fitts (Chris Cooper), his near catatonic wife Barbara Fitts (Alison Janney) and their teenage son Ricky Fitts (Wes Bentley). All are aptly named as fitting in is the last thing they are capable of, and the Colonel is prone to fits of rage. Frank takes issue with the homosexual neighbors Jim Olmeyer (Scott Bakula) & Jim Berkley (Sam Robards) who come to greet the Fitts family when they move in. Ricky becomes fascinated with Jane and films her from his bedroom window. By chance he strikes up a friendship with Lester and becomes his drug dealer. By the time we reach the climax of the movie, two guns have been taken off the mantle and at least one is going to go off.

From where I sit, the film’s message is to become an adult and appreciate life. Real life may be boring a lot of the time, but that doesn’t make it any less miraculous or precious. Sadly, it appears we are even more childish and more violent than we were in 1999. We’ve become more and more deluded by screens and less and less aware of the actual physical world around us. It’s been twenty-four years since the movie’s release, and we have learned less than nothing. Some critics think the film is dated and they take issue with Kevin Spacey’s personal life. But I think the film tragically becomes more powerful with age. For me it is a satire on shallowness and ignorance and how the pursuit of facades plays a crucial part in violent tragedy. American Beauty isn’t just the title of the film, it’s the villain.