Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty-Six

October 17, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce the forty-sixth chapter of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week I had the most embarrassing experience. I will tell you this could be graphic. I will do my best to be discreet and tasteful in my description of the events. I was out for a walk with my novelist, and I did my business as it were, and my novelist noticed some blood. Alarmed, she immediately swept me up, headed home, called the veterinarian who most fortunately had an opening, and drove me over. I detested going to the veterinarian and I was trembling the entire way. Once inside I trembled even more. My novelist carried me up to the desk and we were quickly escorted into one of the patients’ rooms. The nurse came in and took my information as I sat quivering on my novelist’s lap. I was then set on the counter and the young and kind doctor came in. She examined me and realized my anal glands were swollen. The doctor and nurse then took me back to the medical area where she attended to my discomfort and relieved me of my issue. She then kindly returned me to my novelist with my derriere feeling a bit out of sorts but better. They told us that was all that needed to be achieved and sent us home. I am feeling ever so much better after that. And that is this week’s spooky Halloween story. Here now is chapter forty-six of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Joyeux et effrayant octobre!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty-Six

After Curtis read Fia’s note he peered out the window blinds. Just as he suspected, the accountants had followed him home that night. He saw Grady’s van parked across the street. He carefully folded the note back up and slipped it into the pocket of his blazer. Then he grabbed his keys, headed outside, locked the door, hopped in his Honda and backed out of the driveway.

From the minivan the accountants watched him take off. Grady turned on the engine and headed after him.

“Don’t get too close,” Makenna said.

“You’re driving next time,” Grady said.

“Just don’t let him know we’re on his tail.”

“You think we might get back in time to swing by McDonalds?” Irwin asked. “I need to get some dinner before I work on those accounts.”

“If you say one more word about your accounts, I’m going to slide open this door and shove you out.”

“I’ve seen her do it too,” Lance said. “It’s gruesome. Besides, McDonnald’s sucks.”

“No, it doesn’t. I collected all four of those adult Happy Meal toys and sold them online for two thousand dollars.”

“Are you yanking my chain? You made two thousand dollars off those things?”

“Mint condition and brand new.”

“Nobody makes two thousand dollars…are you serious? Those things are weird.”

“Yeah, well, they’re two thousand dollars weird.”

“I wanted the one with the white hat,” Grady said.

“Shut up about your plastic dolls and keep your eyes on Cook,” Makenna said.

“Looks like he’s heading for the mall.”

“I haven’t had a Hot Dog on a Stick in ages,” Irwin said. “When I was a kid, I used to get a Hot Dog on a Stick then afterwards I’d get a frozen yogurt with gummy bears and strawberries.”

“I always got Reese’s Pieces,” Lance said.

“Turn the car,” Makenna shouted at Grady. “We’re losing him!”

“Shut up,” Grady said. “He’s merging, not turning.”

“Keep an eye on him. At this rate he could be heading towards Canada.”

“I could use some Tim Hortons right about now,” Irwin said.

“What is your obsession with junk food?”

“What kind of treats did you like as a kid, Makenna?”

“None. I was always dieting.”

“That sucks.”

“He’s heading for the lake,” Grady said. “You think Cook has lakefront property?”

“Maybe,” Makenna said. “There’re some smaller cabins out there.”

Curtis glanced in the rearview mirror and saw they were still on his tail. As he continued down the winding path, he realized there was still enough light outside for him to notice the spring flowers and the fresh green leaves on the trees. He cracked his window and breathed in the faintest smell of the cherry blossoms like the ones Fia had pointed out at the mall. He sped up and was able to put some distance between himself and his pursuers. As he approached his Aunt Odette’s cabin, he made a sharp turn into the driveway and rushed to park the car inside the garage, shut the door, killed the engine and remain quiet.

“He turned there,” Grady said and pulled the minivan into the driveway. “This looks like a place with an attic.”

Makenna scowled. “I don’t like this.”

“Why?” Lance asked.

“Firstly, I don’t see Cook’s car. Secondly, it’s too easy. Cook’s too smart to be easy.”

“Look,” Grady said. “You wanted us to follow Cook home. We followed him home. You wanted us to follow him here. We followed him here. And now you’re telling us something isn’t right? None of us have time for this. We all have a job to do.”

“Not if we end up in prison for breaking and entering. Not to mention animal cruelty. Then you can kiss your job goodbye. I’m telling you; this is a trap.”

“Trap, Schnapp. I couldn’t care less. I’m going in there to see what Cook is up to and fix his little red wagon.”

“Fine. Go ahead and trot your little hooves right in that cabin and get your pork loins handed to you. We’ve followed him all the way out here. There’s no need to rush now.”

“All those in favor of going inside and dealing with Cook say aye,” Lance said.

All three men said “aye”.

“All those opposed?”

“Nay,” Makenna said.

“The aye’s have it. Let’s boogie.”

“Have a blast.”

“Oh, no,” Grady said. “You forced us out here, you’re going in,”

Makenna narrowed her eyes. “Fine.”

Irwin slid open the side door of the minivan and he, Lance and Makenna disembarked. Grady jumped out of the driver’s side door. The four of them headed for the front porch. As they did, Makenna kept a close eye on the left-hand pocket of Grady’s jacket where he’d put the keys to the minivan.

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: EDGE OF TOMORROW (2014)-NETFLIX**

If you are on the hunt for a stellar science fiction film you’ve not yet seen, look no further than this week’s pick based on the novel All You Need Is Kill by Hiroshi Sakurazaka. This is a smart, riveting, entertaining, edge of your seat film about a military officer who gets shanghaied by a ruthless general after which all sorts of wild things happen. The script is co-written by none other than Oscar winner Christopher McQuarrie along with Jezz Butterworth and John-Henry Butterworth, and deftly directed by Dough Limen. The special effects here are outstanding and hold up superbly after ten years.

Aliens known as Mimics have invaded the earth. And Major Willam Cage (Tom Cruise) is more than happy to be the television spokesperson for the battle that will stop them. That is until he is called into the office of General Bringham (Brendan Gleeson). Bringham, a stone-faced warmonger, tells Major Cage he is being sent to the front lines to film the suicide mission battle to attempt to stop Mimics from completely overtaking Europe and the world at large. Stunned by this assignment, Cage tries everything from reason to blackmail to make Bringham see that he clearly is not fit for battle. But as Cage leaves the general’s office he is arrested, tasered, and wakes up to meet Master Sergent Farrell (Bill Paxton) who gleefully leads him to the barracks with the rest of J Squad. The next day Cage is whisked off to battle where he crosses paths with highly honored Full Metal Bitch better known as Rita (Emily Blunt) and he finds out they are both doomed…or are they?

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty-Five

October 11, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce the forty-fifth chapter of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Yesterday was one of the weirdest days of my novelist’s life. It started out innocuous enough. She’d planned to drive to Costco. On the way she discovered the entire street she usually drives out to get there was closed for construction. She followed the traffic to the detour and then decided not to take it and go further around. In doing so she managed to get lost. She pulled into a business park and shut off the engine. She then called…Him to help her figure out how to get home. While she was waiting for…Him to call back, she got a phone call from the dentist asking if she was running late. Caught completely off guard and thinking her check up was next week, she had to reschedule her appointment for two weeks out.

Now, over the weekend on Sunday afternoon my novelist sat and began writing a speech she is planning to give. She is rather passionate about the contents, and she began punching her fists in the air and yelling out what she had written. She felt her chest starting to become tight and she was hoping it would go away, but it was still bothering her on Wednesday. So, when she returned home after her botched voyage to Costco, she called her primary care doctor to see if she could get an appointment. They told her to go to the emergency room as a precaution to get checked out for any cardiac issues. She reluctantly did and four hours later (which isn’t too bad really) after they had done a thorough number of tests, she found out she had no cardiac issues, and she’d probably pulled some muscles in her chest. So, she came home and prepared to go to a meeting that evening. Just as she was getting ready to go, she dropped her gold ring. She told me it did not make a sound when it fell. She searched everywhere for it, but it was nowhere to be found. I assisted her of course, but to no avail. She returned home after her meeting and after we looked everywhere again, we found it had fallen into a small bag of knitted items, thus the reason for the silent fall.

She did not sleep well last night either. I caught her getting up at one in the morning to play solitaire on her computer. I had to tell her that sort of behavior isn’t going to help her sleep any better and after all the oddities of the previous day I would be best served if she got to bed before I give her a stern reprimanding. And with that thought, here is chapter forty-five of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Que vos journées soient moins bizarres que les nôtres.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty-Five

Just after Fia and her father Mr. Dupree returned from their meeting with Sheriff Bob, the receptionist’s phone rang. Fia hopped up to the desk and took the call. She wrote something down on the Dupree Tax Agency stationery and carried the note over to Curtis and placed it face down on his desk. Curtis lifted the note and read its contents. Then he carefully slipped it into the top drawer of his desk. Before getting up to retrieve his afternoon cup of tea, he locked the top drawer with a small key attached to a keychain and slipped the keys into his jacket pocket.

The only other person in the office to take note of this note situation was Makenna. Her laser stare examined the meticulous care Curtis took with the information he had received and decided to have a tete-a-tete with the only other woman in the office.

“How have you been doing?” she said to Fia after strolling up to the receptionist desk.

Fia looked at her from behind false eyelashes. “What do you mean?”

“With the whole kidnapping matter.”

“Better than I anticipated.”

“It must have been horrible locked in an attic against your will.”

“I managed.”

“I would have found out the identity of my captor at all costs.”

“I think you might be underestimating my kidnapper.”

“I never underestimate anyone. Do you remember something? Is that why you went and talked to Sheriff Bob today?”

“He wanted me to look at some mug shots to see if they jogged my memory.”

“Did they?”

“I’m not at liberty to say. Is there something else you needed, Makenna?”

“I just wanted to let you know anytime you need someone to talk to I’m a great listener.”

Fia nodded. “I don’t doubt it.”

Makenna smiled and headed back to her desk. She sat down and leaned over to Lance. “They’re in on it together.”

“How do you know?”

“She’s not under duress.”

Just then Curtis returned from the breakroom and set his cup of tea on his desk. He sat down and returned to his work, never unlocking the top drawer to look at the note.

Makenna, Lance, and Irwin all left the Dupree Tax Agency at staggered times near the end of the day. Each one parked their car over in the grocery store parking lot across the street. Then one by one they hopped into Grady’s minivan with the tinted glass and hid inside.

Grady remained in the office until Curtis headed out to his Honda Accord. He followed him out and climbed into his minivan. He waited there as Curtis pulled out and started to drive off. Then he started the engine, and the four accountants began to follow the Honda. Grady kept a car between his minivan and Curtis’s Honda so as not to be suspicious.

“Looks like he’s just heading home,” Irwin said.

“Maybe,” Makenna said. “Don’t lose him, Grady.”

“I won’t lose him,” Grady said. “If you wanted to make sure you didn’t lose him, you should have been the driver.”

“I don’t own a minivan. How was I supposed to pile everyone into my Jaguar?”

“Yeah, I really feel sorry for you.”

“Just shut up and drive, would you?”

Grady followed Curtis out of the downtown area, over the bridge, and up the hill where they made a right at the light and drove until they reached Curtis’s apartment.

“Ugg,” Lance said as Grady parked across the street from the duplex. He lives in an even worse place than I thought.”

“Shut up,” Makenna said. “Let’s see what he does.”

“I need to get to work on the Davis case this evening,” Irwin said. “I need to finish their taxes by Thursday.”

“No one cares. We’re all busy with clients’ taxes. But right now, priority one is to stay out of prison. Sit back, relax, play a game on your phone, and shut up while I figure out what to do about Cook.”

“Looks like he’s heading into the house,” Grady said.

The accountants watched as Curtis disembarked his car and headed for the front door.

“Probably going to play with his stocks and sip his green tea,” Lance said. “The guy’s a douche.”

“Check out this guy,” Irving said as Curtis’s neighbor Earl stepped out of his apartment and headed over for the chairs and table on his porch. He wore his terrycloth bathrobe, a t-shirt from a local saloon, a pair of flipflops, and a fedora.

Lance laughed. “This guy is rich.”

Earl set a paperback and a can of Mountain Dew down on the table. He plopped down in his chair, picked up the book and opened it on his lap.

“What do you think he’s reading?” Irwin asked.

“Fifty Shades of Gray,” Lance said and everyone except Makenna burst out into laughter.

“Shut up,” Makenna said. “We’re trying to frame Cook for Fia’s kidnapping. If he staged this whole crime, he’s going to head back to whatever place it was he had an attic. Either that or Fia is going to show up. We need to be there when he makes that mistake so we can report him to the cops before he tries to frame us as well as peg us for the break in and the escape of his stupid mutt.”

Inside his apartment Curtis slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and retrieved the note Fia had given him. He’d never really locked the note in his top desk drawer. He’d become fascinated with sleight of hand in middle school and kept up the practice through high school as well. He was aware of the importance of the note and didn’t want anyone to know it had never left his person. Especially since one of the tricks his fellow employees had played on him was filling his desk drawers with coffee beans. One way or another, they had a way of getting into his desk. And so, he unfolded the note and began to read.

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: BABY REINDEER (2024)-NETFLIX**

Winning four Emmys this year for Best Limited Anthology Series, Best Lead Actor in a Limited or Anthology Series or Movie, Best Supporting Actress in a Limited or Anthology Series or Movie, and Best Writing for a Limited or Anthology Series, Baby Reindeer may be one of the most bizarre original limited series made to date. It is a dark comedy and an autobiography of the show’s creator writer and lead actor Richard Gaad who does an excellent job in all categories as he examines the sometimes amusing, sometimes heartbreaking accounts of his life when he worked as a bartender struggling to become a comedian. It is based on Gaad’s original one-man stage-play Baby Reindeer that premiered at the 2019 Edinburgh Fringe. I will warn you this show is not for everyone. It is bold, brave and raw with disturbing, albeit important subject matter that is neither for younger viewers nor for the faint of heart.

Donny Dunn (Richard Gaad) is a young Scotsman who works at a London pub. Even after their breakup, he still lives with his ex-girlfriend Keeley’s (Shalom Brune-Franklin) mother, Liz (Nina Sosanya). One day while tending bar a heavy-set forty-something woman Martha Scott (Jessica Gunning in a stunning performance) walks in and sits down at the bar. Martha claims to be a lawyer who knows a lot of prominent people but for some reason doesn’t have the money to pay for the cup of tea she orders. Taking pity on her, Donny says it is on the house. Unbeknownst to him, this small act of kindness will snowball into the biggest nightmare of his life, and open doors to the unspeakable horrors of his past. If you have never seen the show, that’s all you need to know. After you view the entire series, I recommend you watch the now famed Piers Morgan interview.

Rounding out the cast are Emmy nominated Nava Mau as Terry, Mark Lewis Jones and Amanda Root as Donny’s father and mother, and Emmy nominated Tom Goodman-Hill as the bone-chilling Darrien.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty-Four

October 4, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter forty-four of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. I have spent much of this week reading through my tale to see how I wish it to end. Unlike my novelist’s works which require a lot of research and reworking, my stories are done like a chain where I write a link I think will fit into the last. I am planning on finishing it up soon and just wanted to make certain I had not gone entirely off the tracks. This is the longest of the six stories I have penned and, in many ways, the most challenging. I am presently in the process of consulting with my novelist on what I shall write next. We will let our readers know what we decide in the weeks to come. Until then, here is chapter forty-four of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Jouir!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty-Four

“He’s onto us,” Makenna said sitting down at her desk.

“How do you know?” Lance asked.

“He took the croissant. I’ve only ever seen him eat a croissant once. He eats that oatmeal for breakfast, the one he gets at the co-op store at the end of the street.”

“Yuck! That stuff tastes like racoon fur.”

“Not that I’d know that but, yeah. Point is he knows.”

“What are we going to do?”

“What do you think we’re going to do? We’re going to make sure the kidnapping gets pinned on him and not us.”

“We don’t even know he did it. We have no proof.”

“We did it and I think Dupree’s kid is in on it. What a great way to lash out at her dad: stage her own kidnapping. Curt must have said something stupid.”

“Like what?”

“I’ll have to listen to the recording.”

“You recorded him just now?”

“Absolutely.”

“I should have thought of that.”

“Well, you didn’t so…and we’ll follow him.”

“Follow him?”

“We’ll follow him home after work tonight.”

“What if he just drives home and makes tea and plays with his stocks?”

“Then we’ll follow him again tomorrow.”

“How many nights do we have to follow him home?”

“What’s wrong with you? Do the bolts in your neck need tightening? We follow him every night until he screws up.”

“Who’s going to drive?”

Makenna narrowed her eyes and tapped her red lacquered nails on his desk. Then she snatched up her pastel Steamed Bean coffee cup and marched over to Grady and Irwin.

“Hey, Makenna—” Irwin started to say.

“Cook is onto us.”

“What?” Grady said.

“He knows we broke into his house. He knows we plotted to kidnap his dog.”

“How?”

“Lance screwed up. Look we need to follow him home from work tonight. Grady, you need to drive.”

“I’m a good driver,” Irwin said.

“You can drive next time.”

“Idiot,” Grady said to Irwin. Then he looked at Makenna. “Cook knows?”

“I think he’s the one who kidnapped Fia and he’s trying to pin it on us. That was the reason he wasn’t here for Sheriff Bob-o’s sting.”

“How does he know?”

“That’s what I aim to find out.”

“But why follow him home?” Irving asked.

“Because I think he’s going to lead us to the place he kept her.”

“You don’t think he held her at his apartment?”

“No. I think he actually has access to a house with an attic.”

“How?”

“That’s what I intend to find out.”

“Look,” Grady said. “Irwin and I were never involved in the whole dog debacle. I don’t see why we need help you follow Cook the Books home tonight.”

“You were going to harbor the dog. And Irwin was going to write the ransom note.”

“But we didn’t.”

“You conspired to and that makes you guilty. All four of us are accomplices in this dead dog situation. You two, me and Lance. If you even think about bailing on me and Lance and I get arrested, Lance and I are prepared to back up each other that you planned the whole thing and all we did was carry out your orders. Now be a good boy, Grady and be the driver tonight so we can all follow Curtis’s Honda home tonight and find out what he’s planning next.”

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: MEMORY (2023)-SHOWTIME**

It’s always a delight to come across a quiet unassuming thoughtful independent film sporting an interesting character study and a fabulous actor to play the part. This film happens to have two interesting characters played by two fabulous actors and is tenderly written and directed by Michal Franco. Sylvia (Jessica Chastain) helps people. She works as a social worker for mentally challenged adults. She is a former alcoholic who attends AA and has just celebrated her 13^th anniversary of being sober. She has a teenage daughter named Anna (Brooke Timber) who she protects fiercely including having an elaborate security system at her New York apartment. Her younger and more financially successful sister Olivia (Merritt Weaver) encourages Sylvia to attend her high school reunion. Sylvia reluctantly goes dressing as casual and somber as she can. When she arrives and Olivia and her friends decide to go out on the dance floor, a man comes over and sits down beside Sylvia. He doesn’t say anything. He just smiles.

Irritated by his presence, Sylvia doesn’t say anything either. She picks up her purse and leaves the party. But as she heads to the subway, she realizes the man is following her, unnerving her even more. When she gets off at her stop, she hurries inside her apartment and flips on the security system. When she peers out the window, she finds the man is outside looking up trying to figure out which apartment is hers. Sylvia warns Anna to stay away from the windows and keep out of sight.

When Sylvia gets up the next morning the man is still there lying in the street near the next door tire dealership wet and cold trying to keep warm under a garbage bag. She gets him to give her his identification and finds out his name is Saul (Peter Sarsgaard). She calls his brother Issac (Josh Charles) to come pick him up. Issac explains to Sylvia Saul is suffering from early onset dementia and Issac’s adult daughter Sara (Elsie Fisher) later comes over to Sylvia’s place and asks if her if she would be willing to be a caretaker for her uncle. Sylvia, who unlike Saul has memories she can’t forget struggles with whether she should take the job.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty-Three

September 26, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good morning. Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter forty-three of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. My novelist has somewhere she has to go today and if she gets up early, I get up early. One cannot allow one’s novelist to galivant off on her own. Novelists are unbalanced creatures. They require a great deal of management. My novelist says there is nothing more disturbing or destructive than a manager, but she will just have to accept that I am in charge. She is off to assist a relative with their Shakespeare text. My novelist, as you may know, studied theatre as well as writing. When one analyzes Shakespeare text one has to go through the dialogue word for word with a pair of Shakespeare lexicons: A-M & N-Z. Tedious, of course, but what a word may mean in one play in one character’s dialogue may be different in another’s and so the work must be done. I must be there for emotional support and make sure they are flipping the pages properly. Wish me luck on this endeavor as it is a history play that we will be working with. Until next week, please enjoy this forty-third installment of Certified Sadistic Accountant. ‘Mal à l’aise est la tête qui porte la couronne’— (Henry IV, Part 2, Act 3, Scene 1)

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty-Three

Curtis, who had left to retrieve his water bottle from his car headed back inside through the rear entrance.

Hey, Cook the Books,” Lance said. “You’re late this morning.”

“I got here at my usual time,” Curtis said holding up his water bottle and shaking it. “I forgot this in my car.”

Curtis glanced at Makenna. She had an odd look on her face like she was reading his mind. He set the water bottle on his desk and sat down at his computer. As he began working on the Rutan account, he saw Fia descending the stairs after leaving her father’s office. She headed behind the receptionist desk and sat in her chair.

Suddenly, the phone rang. Fia picked it up. “Dupree Tax Agency. How may I direct your call? Oh, Sheriff Bob. Thank you for calling—yes‑yes, that’s right—yes, I’d like to do that—yes, that would be fantastic—talk to you later—bye.”

“What was that all about?” Lance whispered to Makenna.

Makenna shook her head but didn’t answer.

There was a knock on the front doors. Everyone turned to see Sheriff Bob and Deputy Gunther standing outside. Fia hopped off her chair and went over to the door to let them in.

“You got here fast,” Fia said.

“We were in the neighborhood,” Sheriff Bob said. “Did your dad want to go with you?”

“No, I’d just assume not trouble him with it.”

“I don’t think he’d mind under the circumstances.”

“Just the same, I’d rather go alone.”

“Suit yourself.” He turned and looked at the accountants with a sunny smile. “How are you all doing this fine morning? I don’t think Gunther and I got the chance to tell you folks about how much my officers and I appreciated your help the other day.”

“You’re welcome,” Lance said prompting Makenna to give him a shove.

“Anyway, I just wanted to thank everyone for helping us out that morning—”

“Except you,” Gunther said pointing to Curtis. “You never did show up.”

“I explained my absence to Mr. Dupree,” Curtis said.

“Yeah, maybe.” He turned to Fia and said, “Let’s head over, shall we?”

“Okay,” Fia said and followed the two officers out the door.

“Who’s going to answer the phones?” Grady asked.

“Hey, Cook,” Irving said, “why don’t you answer the phones since you didn’t bother showing up for the sting.”

Curtis looked around the office. Everyone was looking at him. “Fine,” he said and got up from his chair and headed to the receptionist desk. He was just about to take a seat when the phone rang. “Dupree Tax Agency. How may I direct your call?”

Makenna crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair studying him. She knew he knew but she didn’t know what he was planning to do next.

Lance leaned into her and said, “What do you think Fia’s talking to the cops about?”

“Who cares,” she said. “What I want to know is what’s going on in Cook’s medulla oblongata.”

“Looks like he’s trying to score points with the big guy by answering the phones.”

“There’s something wrong with him.”

“You can say that again.”

“No, there’s been a shift in him. Like he’s hiding something. We’ve got to do something. Plan something. Get prepared.”

Lance stood up. “I need a croissant. You want one?”

“Bring me two.”

“You must be hungry.”

“Just bring me two.”

As Lance headed towards the break room, Mr. Dupree descended the stairs. He looked over at the receptionist desk and panicked. “Where’s my daughter?”

“Everything’s fine,” Makenna said. “She just went to help Sherriff Bob with something.”

“Help him with what?”

“Probably the kidnapping case.”

“Why didn’t she tell me about it?’

“She didn’t want you to worry.”

“If she had something to tell Bob about the kidnapping, she should have let me know. I just talked to her this morning about it.”

“Maybe you should just go call the police station and ask what’s going on.”

Mr. Dupree looked around the office at the faces of his employees. “Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I should do.” Then he turned around and headed back up the stairs.

“Here you go,” Lance said strolling out of the break room and heading over to Makenna’s desk with a croissant in each hand.

“Set them down,” she told him.

Lance set the two paper plates on Makenna’s desk. She snatched one up and headed over to the receptionist’s desk.

“Didn’t look like you’d gotten your croissant this morning,” Makenna said to Curtis.

He looked at the pastry then at her. “How…thoughtful,” he said.

“Have you bought a new dog yet?”

“Haven just died, Makenna.”

“Huh. So, why didn’t you show up to work on the day Sheriff Bob set up his kidnapper trap?”

“I realized I made an error on the Plowman account. It was bothering me so much when I woke up, I went straight to my computer to fix it. When I finally figured out what the problem was, I the day was over.”

Makenna nodded her head. “Interesting. You almost never make a mistake.”

“The main thing is Fia’s safe.”

“Right.”

As they locked eyes with each other the phone rang. “Thanks for the croissant,” Curtis said picking up the handset.

“Anytime.”

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: AS GOOD AS IT GETS (1997)-HBO MAX**

All genres have at least a few good movies. Even genres some film aficionados don’t care for. This week’s pick is an excellent example of how to make a romantic comedy: great characterization, a superb cast, smart dialogue, and a very well penned script like this one written and directed by James L. Brooks who was nominated for an Oscar in both categories. This comedy even dares to clock in at two hours and nineteen minutes, and it never drags. Perhaps because the film was made in the 1990’s when there was a plethora of superb landmark filmmaking going on, scripts like this one could get made. Now we’re stuck on the precipice of another Oscar season of mediocre dreck. Maybe since the fallout of the writer’s strike and Covid has thinned out, great films might make a comeback. But for now, perhaps it’s just as well to seek out great entertainment like this one and weather the storm.

Melvin Udall (Jack Nicholson in a fantastic Oscar winning performance) is a misanthropic romance writer who hates everyone. He detests his gay neighbor, artist Simon Bishop (Greg Kinnear in a solid Oscar nominated performance), Simon’s agent Frank Sachs (Cuba Gooding Jr.), and Simon’s Brussels Griffon, Verdell. He makes cutting remarks to customers in restaurants, managers, maids, neighbors, party goers and just about anyone who irritates him. In fact, the only person on the planet Melvin does like is Carol Connelly (Helen Hunt in a charming Oscar winning performance), the only server he’ll let wait on him in the same restaurant he frequents every day. Carol is too world weary for her age and the only person in Melvin’s world who has a sharp enough wit to snap back at him, which he secretly admires.

But even with Carol, Melvin cannot keep his acerbic remarks to himself. One day he makes a brutal comment about her son Spencer (Jessie James) who has acute asthma and is constantly ending up in the emergency room. In the meantime, Simon, who’s art show is not doing as well as expected, takes on a new model, a streetwalker named Vincent (Skeet Ulrich) who has friends who plan to rob the painter. The two incidents converge and send Melvin who suffers from acute OCD on an unexpected journey that surprises not only Melvin but the others in his life as well.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty-Two

September 19, 2024September 27, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good morning. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce Chapter Forty-Two of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. I will soon be wrapping up this tale and begin an entirely new story soon. It’s hard to believe I have been writing this one for almost a year. Today, I am taking a day trip to visit relatives. We are having a family summit. It is imperative I go along as someone must run the show. And the best person to run the show is always a poodle. I plan to command and demand and inform as that is what poodles are best at. I detest riding in automobiles, however. I long for the day I can take a train. I love trains. I have never taken one and it is a dream of mine. I revel in the idea of looking out the window and watching the world roll by. My novelist and I rewatched most of The Commuter this past week and I absolutely adore it. Yes, it is a guilty pleasure with a terrible ending, but it is so much fun. That said, I am up early, looking over my notes and preparing my speech and practicing pounding my paw. I am going to be magnificent. And with that thought here is Chapter Forty-Two of Certified Sadistic Accountant.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty-Two

Thirty minutes later, Makenna, Lance, Grady and Irwin all arrived at the Dupree Tax Agency each carrying a pastel paper cup from The Steamed Bean. Grady and Irwin turned and headed into the breakroom to retrieve a fresh croissant. Makenna marched up to Lance.

“Why do you think Cook the Books never reported us to the police?” she said.

Lance shrugged. “He never knew it was us.”

Makenna narrowed her eyes. “Of course, he knew it was us. You think that surveillance system of his wasn’t running when you spray painted the lens? He got a great look at your face. He knew exactly who you were. The more I think about this whole out of the blue kidnapping thing with Dupree’s kid, the more suspicious the whole thing seems.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Exactly how stupid are you? We’ve been giving Cook a hard time ever since he stepped foot in this office. Yeah, he seems all polite and hardworking and such. But I think underneath all that façade is a sadist waiting to pounce. I think he staged this kidnapping, and he wants to pin it on us.”

Lance blew a raspberry. “We didn’t kidnap Dupree’s kid.”

“No. But I think Cook looked at that video and thought, maybe he could get Dupree’s daughter to help him stage a kidnapping. She could get out of working here and he could get us back for all the times we messed him. Then he’d keep that tape of us breaking into his house to make us look like criminals. And then pin a kidnapping charge on us a well as a break-in to really make us suffer.”

“That’s nuts.”

“Maybe. But if I were Curtis I’d be out for some serious revenge.”

“We didn’t even steal anything.”

“No. But that pocket rat of his got killed when we were at his apartment. Even if he can’t prove it.”

Lance took a sip of his coffee. “I’ve been wondering if there was another surveillance camera at his duplex.”

Makenna leaned over and tapped her long red manicured nails on Lance’s desk. “The landlord,” she said. “You’re right. There’s more footage. We need to do something.”

“Like what?”

Makenna stood up and folded her arms. “I’m thinking.”

Just then, Fia unlocked the front door and stepped inside. Both accountants looked at her with anxious eyes. She looked at no one and headed up the stairs to her father’s office.

“Fia,” he said when she stepped inside and closed the door. “You decided to come in today?”

“I didn’t want you answering the phones, Daddy,” she said.

Mr. Dupree chuckled. “That’s sweet of you, dear but you’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

“I want to finish my spring break time here at the office. I would feel better if I did.”

“Alright.” Mr. Dupree watched his daughter turn and head over to the door. “Fia?”

“Yes?”

“Cook…Curtis Cook my accountant said something interesting to me this morning.”

“What?”

“He said he wondered if it was an inside job.”

Fia turned around and looked at her father. “An inside job?”

“Are you sure you didn’t recognize something familiar about your kidnapper?”

Fia bit her lip. “Why would one of your accountants want to kidnap me?”

“I don’t know. It’s perplexing they sent a ransom note but never wanted money.”

“I know. I read it.”

“The more I think about it, the more I think Cook may be right. I think someone in this office might be out for revenge.” Mr. Dupree picked up a signed baseball from the wooden stand he had sitting on his desk and began fiddling with it. “I don’t think it’s Makenna and I don’t think it’s Lance. Each of them won the tax bonus contest during the last two years. Grady hasn’t won it since Curtis started working here and Irving’s never won it. But then again neither has Curtis…are you sure you didn’t see the face of your captor?”

“Daddy, the attic was dark and-”

“See, that’s what’s so strange. None of my employees has an attic. How did you end up in an attic?”

“How do you know none of your employees has an attic?”

“Because all their addresses have an apartment number. None of them live in a house so none of them have an attic. But somehow, they were granted access to one.”

“I need to get down to the receptionist desk to take-”

“You aren’t in on this, are you, Fia?”

Fia’s heart was thumping. “I didn’t kidnap myself, daddy.”

“This isn’t some twisted performance art piece, is it?”

“Daddy-”

“Because this whole attic thing is driving me crazy.”

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: CIVIL WAR (2024)-HBO MAX**

This week’s movie is a recent release now playing on HBO Max. If you are a fan of the brilliant 28 Days Later, you will love this non-zombie road trip about a dystopian United States where a small group of journalists head off in a van to get an interview with the president as rebel factions prepare to siege the Whitehouse. This is a tense and unflinching story written and directed by Alex Garland with some interesting effects used to put the audience in the position of press on the ground and in the middle of the action.

Renowned world-weary photojournalist Lee Smith (Well-played by Kirstin Dunst) who was once touted as the youngest member of the Magnum Photos cooperative, has decided to head out to Washington DC to interview the President of the United States (Nick Offerman) as the modern-day American Civil War rages on. Along for the ride are her long-time fellow college Joel (Wagner Moura), and mentor Sammy (Stephen McKinley Henderson) who warns Lee against the idea. While out photographing brutal fighting in Charlottesville, Virginia, Lee comes across and helps and injured a young would-be journalist Jessie Cullen (Callie Spaeney) from Missouri who has always idolized Lee. Jessie wants to join the group for the ride, but Lee, well versed in the dangers of war journalism, does not want her to go with them. Jessie goes with them anyway and after Lee sees some of the young woman’s work, she becomes her mentor.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty-One

September 12, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter forty-one of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week my novelist has been trying to help a couple of her relatives who are trapped in that most terrifying level of Dante’s hell, the public school system.

Apparently, public schools have the right to force students to work without pay. In other words, instead of the student taking a class, they have the right to force the student to work as a lacky for said school during a class period as opposed to the student sitting in a classroom learning a subject. They can claim there is no room in any other class during said period. And they have the legal right to do this to cover up their scheduling mishaps.

Instead of allowing the student to take a different class during any given period, the public school system can force a student to work as a lacky in the office instead of allowing them to be enrolled in a class and in return pay them nothing. Because it is during school hours, it can go under the guise of credit robbing the student of hours they could be sitting in class learning a subject. My novelist and I believe public schools should not have this right.

Schools should begin setting up student schedules no later than sixty days before classes begin. And schools should be required to send out schedules to all students attending school no later than fourteen days before the beginning of the school year, allowing the students to be able to alter any mistakes the school district may and likely will make.

After this debacle, we, and I’m sure many of you, are fed up with the incompetence of the bureaucratic American school system, their profane carnal lust for institutions, their abuse of minors, and their complete and utter disregard for logic and intelligence. And with that, here is chapter forty-one of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Dans l’ensemble, vous n’êtes qu’une autre brique dans le mur.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty-One

Curtis arrived at the Dupree Tax Agency the following day in his pale green Honda Accord. He killed the engine and headed inside the rear entrance. He was early which meant he was earlier than his usual early arrival. It was supposed to be sunny today and when he gazed out the front window of the agency that appeared to be the case.

Curtis headed into the breakroom and filled the coffee machine with beans. He retrieved a sleeve of coffee cups from the cabinet and stacked them at the coffee station. Then he made himself a cup of joe and headed out to his desk to work on his accounts.

Twenty minutes later Mr. Dupree arrived. He marched over to Curtis and said gruffly, “Cook, a word in my office.”

This was not the usual cheery greeting Curtis was accustomed to receiving from his boss. However, it was not unexpected either. And so, Curtis rose from his chair and headed up the stairs after Mr. Dupree.

“Have a seat,” Mr. Dupree said gesturing to the chair across from him and straightened his sport coat.

“You were supposed to be here yesterday. The police sent an officer around to your place of residence. You knew Fia had been kidnapped and everyone was supposed to be here yesterday so the police could carry out their sting operation. I sent all my employees an email and Sherrif Bob left all my employees a voicemail. Yet you didn’t show up by seven forty-five as you were told. Where were you and why weren’t you here?”

“I was on my way to work when…something unexpected happened,” Curtis replied.

“What happened?”

Curtis knew he had to come up with an explanation and he had to come up with it fast. “I…realized I had made an error on one of the tax forms.”

“An error?”

“Yes. I was driving to work when I realized I had somehow miscalculated something on the Plowman account.”

“That’s one of our largest accounts.”

“Yes, Mr. Dupree it is. I had to go back and check the forms. It was an unusual morning because I was running late and as you know I am never late. So, I turned my car around and started driving back home.”

“Why didn’t you just keep heading for the office and log in from here?”

“I…I don’t know, sir. I guess I panicked.”

“In all the time you’ve worked here I have never known you to make a mistake on any tax form whatsoever. Lance, now that guy is a royal screw up. There aren’t enough erasers in the world to handle his mistakes. But you? Your near flawless.”

“That’s kind of you to say, Mr. Dupree. But I assure you, I’ve made my fair share of mistakes.”

Mr. Dupree kept a steady gaze on Curtis. “Why didn’t you call the office when you realized you’d made a mistake?”

“I meant to. But I got so caught up in trying to locate the error that by the time I should have called in the day was half over. So, I just stayed at my apartment and rechecked all my other accounts.”

“Did you find any more errors?”

“No. Just the one on the Plowman account. And it was a big one. But it’s fixed now, and everything’s okay.”

“Cook, the police were certain those monsters who kidnapped my daughter would return to the agency. They wanted to make sure everyone was on deck and ready by seven forty-five sharp Monday morning. And I’m having a difficult time understanding your behavior.”

“My behavior?”

“You should have been more concerned about my daughter. We needed everyone on deck in and place and you put a dent in Sheriff Bob’s sting operation, and we were unable to catch the kidnapper. Luckily, she happened to escape and stumbled onto the church there at the bottom of the hill. The one that heads up to the high school. They drove her down here and she appears to be unscathed.”

“That’s the important part; Fia is unscathed.”

“No, Cook, that’s the lucky part. I don’t know what her mother and I would have done if she had never come back.”

“Well,” Curtis said attempting to appear as if he were surmising. “I’ve been thinking about this whole strange event, and I wonder if you’ve considered the idea that it could have been an inside job.”

“An inside job?”

“Maybe one of your employees…or possibly a couple of them planned this. Maybe they wanted to get money out you.”

“There was no ransom note, Cook.”

“You’re right…maybe it was revenge.”

“Revenge? Why would they want revenge? I’m just an accountant. I’m just a man who runs a tax agency. I am faithful to my wife, I haven’t committed any crimes, and I’m a member of the Kiwanis for heaven’s sake. I am an upstanding person in this community. Who in the world would want to seek revenge on me?”

“I don’t know, sir. I’m just brainstorming, sir.”

Mr. Dupree rose from his desk and began walking about. “Revenge…revenge…revenge…hmm…I just don’t see it, Cook. Everybody likes me. And besides, Fia said she never got a good look at her kidnapper. Turned out it was just one kidnapper. There’re maniacs out there, Cook. And my Fia was in the hands of them.”

“Sometimes maniacs are not what they seem. Sometimes they’re the people you see every day.”

“Is there something you’re not telling me, Cook?”

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: SIDEWAYS (2004)-HULU**

It is always a special treat to rewatch a movie that still makes you laugh, still makes you feel and most importantly still makes you think. This well-deserved recipient of the Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay by Alexander Payne and Jim Taylor, is based on the book of the same name by Rex Picket.. The same screenwriting pair also co-wrote the smart and sardonic adapted script Election based on the novel by Tom Perrotta.

Sideways is a fantastic, funny and poignant story about two former college roommates who are facing middle age. Jack (Thomas Haden Church in a wonderful Oscar nominated supporting actor performance), is an aging pretty-boy actor who is getting married in a week. Miles (Paul Giamatti in yet another brilliant performance who was wrongly snubbed by the Academy here) is a divorced morose middle school English teacher waiting to find out if his novel is finally getting published.

The two men take a trip from Los Angeles to California wine country in lieu of a bachelor party for a week of wine and restaurants. Or at least that is what Miles thinks. But Jack has a different idea in mind. He wants to party it up and get laid during his last week of freedom.

At a restaurant called The Hitching Post, a place Miles frequents whenever he is in town, Jack spots a beautiful waitress named Maya (Virginia Madson in a lovely Oscar nominated performance) and quickly realizes she is smitten with Miles, and likely has been so for some time. Maya is recently divorced and working towards her masters in Botany. Jack encourages Miles to try and hook up with Maya. But Miles still deeply and profoundly misses his wife, fellow wine connoisseur Victoria (Jessica Hecht) and doesn’t think Maya is good enough for him. The two men also meet Maya’s friend, Stephanie (Sandra Oh) a wine pourer at another establishment. Jack begins hitting on Stephanie despite Miles’s reservations. But despite his protests, Miles finds himself helplessly caught up in a chain of spiraling events.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty

September 5, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter forty of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Today I was made to go back to the vet for a follow up visit post my dental cleaning. As was expected, I was a brilliant patient and am doing well. The downside, however, is my novelist was given the green light to schedule me a grooming appointment. It is true I am shaggy at present and have part of my left front leg shaved which would be a disastrous look on any runway. But I still detest going to the groomers…no matter how spectacular I look afterwards. Not only that but I was subjected to a bath yesterday prior to my appointment today. It is not cold weather or anything, so I wasn’t cold. Far from it. But it is most detestable just the same. What is it with humans? Always bathing and preening and dragging their owners to the vet? This is a philosophical conundrum I must discuss with Bernard D. Bunny over tea this weekend. Until then, please enjoy my fortieth chapter of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Vive la saleté!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty

Curtis stepped back from the door.

“I know you’re in there,” said the voice on the other side. “I can hear you.”

“Why…why are you here?”

“Open the door. Then I’ll tell you.”

Curtis put his hands on his hips. Nothing about this could be good. “Are the police out there?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

He took a deep breath, sighed and opened the door. Fia stood there glaring at him. “Come in.”

She stomped into the house, spun around, and looked him in the eye. “You owe me.”

“Why?”

“Because I didn’t turn you in. I told them I escaped and couldn’t identify my kidnapper because I was locked in a large attic.”

Curtis took a tentative step towards her and dug his hands in his pockets. “Why did you tell them that?”

“Because I want to understand why you kidnapped me. And if you don’t tell me I will go back to the police and tell them maybe, just maybe, there might have been a stream of light that came in the door when they brought food in for me, and I might have seen enough of the criminal’s face to give them an accurate description and pick you out of a lineup.”

Curtis carefully studied her face. Finally, he said, Because Makenna and Lance broke into my house and killed my Yorkshire Terrier, Haven.”

“How do you know they were the ones who broke into your house?”

“I had a surveillance system installed in my apartment.”

“Do you still have the video of them breaking into your place?”

“Yes. And while they were in there, Lance located the camera and spraypainted the lens.”

“That doesn’t prove they were responsible for Haven escaping.”

“My landlord showed me his surveillance footage and it shows Haven scurrying out the front door and then Makenna and Lance running out after her. Haven stops at one point on the grass and looks at them, and then they begin moving towards her and she turns and runs out into the street just as a delivery truck is coming. The delivery truck screeches to a halt and Makenna and Lance stand there like they’ve just seen a flying saucer. Then they hurry towards the accident.”

“Sounds like you have enough evidence to have them arrested.”

“They’ve harassed me ever since I started working there. This time they took it too far.”

“How does abducting me work into this picture?”

“Your father stood by day after day while Makenna, Lance, Irwin and Grady pulled annoying pranks on me.”

“Maybe. But that’s probably because he was a little jealous of you. You are a better accountant than he is. He’s as much as said so. And maybe part of him didn’t intervene because he’s trying to run a business.”

“Maybe he should have paid better attention to the actions of his employees.”

“Why didn’t you go to the police with the surveillance footage?”

“Killing Haven was the last straw. Pinning a kidnapping on them would make them suffer more than breaking and entering. “

“And so, I’m a pawn in this game?”

“More or less. I would have pinned it on Makenna and Lance. I’d still be stuck with Grady and Irwin but getting Makenna and Lance out of the way would have been enough.”

“What makes you think Grady and Irwin didn’t devise this scheme? “If Grady and Irwin helped plot it, they’re guilty too.”

“Oh, they were in on it. But Makenna was the mastermind and she and Lance were the ones who broke into my house and got Haven killed.”

“So, your plan was to put my father and I through distress and then pin the kidnapping on Makenna and Lance. And then you were going to coheres me to go along with it.”

“More or less.”

“Wow. Maybe I should have turned you in.”

“Honestly, I’m thankful you didn’t.”

“You’re going to have to be a little more than grateful, Curtis.”

“What do you want?”

“Since your clown show plan fell through, you will have to consider mine. And if you don’t, I will turn you into the police.”

Curtis hesitated for a moment. Then he said, “What is your plan?”

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: THE UPSIDE OF ANGER (2005) HBO MAX**

Here is a terrific, smart, witty comedy that often gets overlooked. It was pure joy getting to see it again this week. It’s held up very well, has a shockingly stellar cast, and was brilliantly written and directed by Mike Binder with a terrific ending not many films are smart enough to have.

Terry Wolfmeyer (Joan Allen in what should have been an Oscar nominated performance) is angry. Very angry. She sits down one night to have dinner with her four daughters, eldest Hadley, (Alicia Witt) a college student, Andy, (Erika Christensen) who wants to work and not go to college, Emily, (Keri Russell) an aspiring ballerina, and youngest, Popeye, (Evan Rachel Wood) the literary phenom of the family. Terry, dressed in her lingerie, sets a strong drink on the table and announces her husband, their father, has left her for his Swedish secretary. This stuns the girls who each begin to deal with the breakup in their own way.

Meanwhile, next door neighbor and ex-major league baseball star Denny Davies (Kevin Costner) who has always had a crush on Terry, is both surprised and covertly delighted to find out her husband has disappeared. Between his daily radio show produced by his likeable but somewhat sleazy producer Adam “Shep” Goodman (Mike Binder) he slowly attempts to charm his way into Terry and her girl’s lives by offering to be Terry’s drinking partner. Terry, who is nobody’s fool, is skeptical at first since Denny and Shep want to buy her out and develop the rather large stretch of wooded land between Denny’s house and hers. But the daughters like Denny, and he is eventually invited to dinner, asked to stay and watch television, and become part of Terry and their lives. After a while Denny offers the anti-college Andy a job as an assistant on his radio show. But when middle-aged Shep takes a liking to Andy, Terry’s anger reaches a boiling point.

Look for Dane Christensen (Erika Christensen’s real-life brother) as Popeye’s classmate Gordon Reiner.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Thirty-Nine

August 29, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter thirty-nine of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week has been rather unpleasant. I am not allowed to have treats for three weeks because sealant was applied to my teeth. I am perpetually starving. One cannot live on poodle chow alone. I need my extra goodies to get me through the day. I have begged, demanded, whined and licked but still my novelist remains firm in this situation. All I am allowed to partake of is soft stuff that comes in a pouch. It is palatable enough, but it is not my usual treats, which are far superior. All I have been dreaming about for the past week are delicious soft chewy delectables. Yet all I have is mush. I try to imagine it is pâté but alas, pâté it is not. I am marking off the days on the calendar when mushy pouch treats are a thing of the past. Until then here is chapter thirty-nine of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Je ne mangerai pas cette bouillie mon ami. Je ne le mangerai pas, Sam je le suis!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Thirty-Nine

No, he realized. They were knocking, not opening the door. He froze. He had no idea who was at the door. He paused and thought for a moment. He checked himself in the mirror. He looked bedraggled. He grabbed his aunt’s hairbrush that was sitting on her vanity and fixed his hair. He tucked his rumpled shirt into his pants and tugged down on his shirt cuffs.

He headed downstairs to the door and looked through the peephole. He was surprised to see a delivery guy standing there with a large package. Curtis thought of all the movies where the delivery guy was just a cover for a cop. He remained calm, cleared his throat and opened the door.

“Yes?” he said.

“I have a package you need to sign for,” the delivery guy said and thrust an electronic pad and stylist at Curtis. Curtis looked at the pad and wondered if this was a way they were going to acquire his fingerprints and DNA. He sighed and signed the pad.

“Here you go,” the delivery guy said handing Curtis the large heavy package. Then he skipped down the porch steps and left.

Curtis stood there staring at the large heavy box in his hands. He headed back into the house and set the box down on an end table to investigate. The label showed the package was addressed to his Aunt Odette. He decided it was probably an art piece she’d had shipped to her which was odd with her being out of the country.

He waited, wondering when they were going to break down his door, but no one came. He sat down on the bookshelf chair and tried to decide what to do next. That was the problem with his plan. He hadn’t factored in the possibility of the kidnapped girl escaping. His plan was to get everyone in that office together and then…what did it matter now? What he had to do now was make a quick decision to either turn himself in or run. Time was running out. He’d have to change his name and take the accounting test again under a new identity. Then could go back to practicing as an account and not starve. And prison time sounded unappealing.

Maybe he could go back to his duplex and see if anyone was watching him. If he did that, he could pack a suitcase. He’d wait till it got dark then go. No, that was a terrible idea. Someone was watching the duplex. They had to be. And even if it wasn’t the police what if it was a neighbor looking to spot him and call the authorities. No, it would be better to gather up what he needed here and run. He’d head north…no south and start a new life. He could never see his family again. He didn’t like that idea but what other choice did he have?

He needed to go off the grid. He couldn’t be surfing the internet or making phone calls. He’d have to stay underground long enough to find somewhere to live and descent clothes to wear. He would need money. Cash not credit. If he remembered right, his aunt always kept cash around. She was a little odd about money. If she didn’t keep it in the form of art, she would keep a large stash hidden in the office.

He scurried into the office and unlocked the bottom drawer to her desk. Sure enough, he found the lockbox there and proceeded to open it with the small keys from the jewelry box. The lock popped open and when he lifted the lid Curtis found an out-of-date passport, a small manilla envelope with something sealed inside, and a large stack of bills. He ran over to the closet and pulled out a backpack she had stashed in there and stuck the money in it. He knew he would need to take one of her cars because they would be on the lookout for his Honda.

Then there was the matter of food. He would need to take as many non-perishable items as he could gather from his aunt’s cupboards. Curtis swung the backpack onto his shoulder and ran from the office to the kitchen and began to rummage around the cupboards while he pondered the dilemma of the vehicle. He found a package of whole wheat spaghetti, a can of Mandarin Oranges, a jar of French raspberry preserves, a jar of the good peanut butter you can order online, two boxes of Carr’s crackers and, of course, a couple cans of sardines. Aunt Odette was a big fan of sardines. He grabbed a grocery bag and packed up his bounty.

The only car parked in Aunt Odette’s garage right now was her small hot pink Smart Fortwo Electric Drive, the kind that can bounce off other cars in a wreck. She must have driven the metallic green dune buggy to the airport. It was either get the electric car charged or learn how to ride the Vespa parked on the side. He decided to charge the car. He set down his backpack and grocery bag and headed over to the side, grabbed the charger and proceeded to charge the Smart Fortwo. He adjusted the backpack on his shoulder and grabbed the groceries and headed back into the house. He tried to think of what else he could take with him. Soap, shampoo, and conditioner came to mind. He darted upstairs to the bathroom to procure the items. He looked in the cabinet on the opposite wall from the bathtub and located two large bars of bright red raspberry Pré De Provence French soap, a bottle of L’Occitane Rose Shampoo and conditioner. That would have to do. He gathered them up and took them with him. He hurried down the stairs and was about to head out to the garage when the doorbell rang again. He moved over to the door and looked through the peep hole. He was shocked at who he saw. It wasn’t a delivery person this time.

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: A WOMAN UNDER THE INFLUENCE (1974)- HBO MAX**

This week I thought I would honor the fantastic actress Gena Rowlands by choosing a film with one of her finest roles. She and Peter Falk turn in landmark performances in this naturalistic film about a complicated woman trapped in both mental illness and the ignorance of her blue-collar world. Cassavetes rightly earned an Oscar nomination for his excellent direction here and his real-life wife Gena earned an Oscar nomination for her extraordinary work. It is a travesty that Peter Falk wasn’t also recognized for his outstanding performance as well.

Being a homemaker in the 1970’s straight out sucked. In fact, being a homemaker in just about any era sucks. Mabel Longhetti (Gena Rowlands) is imprisoned in that role. She is also imprisoned by the men in her life whether it be her father George (Fred Draper), her doctor Dr. Zepp (Eddie Shaw), or her hot-blooded husband Nick (Peter Falk) a construction foreman who loves her but is unaccepting of her mental illness and is sometimes downright violent. She is expected to raise three young children and “be herself” or rather her husband’s idea of what that is. It is clear Nick loves his wife but his expectations of her are absurd. The Longhetti’s have three young grade school children Mabel is trying to manage as well as her husband’s constant gregarious social demands. Nick is a man who always needs to be in control to the point of being threatening and control is the last thing Mabel has. She is suffering from mental illness and is on the verge of a mental breakdown. A fact Nick does not want to accept. He tells his friends his wife is unusual but not crazy. But day by painful day, things get worse and worse and Mabel’s actions get more and more careless until it puts their children in a compromising position.

One of the saddest and possibly the truest moment in the film is when Mabel asks her father to stand up for her as they sit around the dining room table with the rest of the family. He physically stands up claiming he has no idea what she means by stand up. The scene seems to point out that Mabel is not only under the influence of her mental illness but the influence of the patriarchal world in which she is trapped. No one is on her side.

This is not an easy film to watch. But it is a truthful one. Originally, Rowlands told Cassavetes she wanted to act in a play about the difficulties faced by contemporary women. Cassavetes wrote that play but Rowlands knew it would be utterly exhausting to try and keep up the necessary intensity performance after performance. The stage play was made into a screenplay, Peter Falk liked Cassavetes’s script so much he invested $500,000 of his own money to help produce it, and this was the triumphant result.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Thirty-Eight

August 23, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter thirty-eight of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. I must tell you this has been a most dreadful week. My novelist ambushed me Tuesday morning and took me in to have my teeth cleaned. I feel horrible. I am still trying to come out of the spell they put me under. The whole world is slow and lethargic. I just want to lie on my pillow and cry. My teeth hurt and I feel like I am trotting through water. I cannot believe after having to suffer through being boarded for a week I am now being subjected to torture. Yes, of course, putting me under sedation made the whole experience more tolerable but when is getting one’s teeth cleaned ever tolerable? At least it only happens once a year. I know she’s planning on booking an appointment for me to see the groomer soon. That should be a barrel of monkeys and a bag of chips. At least I am writing my story again even if Tuesday was a “lost weekend” as it were. And so, groggy though I may be, here is chapter thirty-eight of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Je déteste aller chez le vétérinaire.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Curtis faced away from the bars, squatted down and grabbed the bottom of the cage with both hands. He struggled at first because of the handcuffs and the awkward position but using his legs he slowly started to lift the cage off the floor. To his delight he found it was not as heavy as he first guessed, and he was able to lift it a foot off the ground before he had to let it drop pulling his hands away just in time.

He breathed deep and squatted back down into position. He grabbed the bottom of the cage until he was able to inch it up to his shoulders. Then the terrifying part: because his hands were cuffed together behind him, he couldn’t lift the cage over his head and drop it in front of him. But he could duck his head and try to slip it off that way. Or he could keep the cage balanced on his back, turn and face outwards and rush forwards. He decided to attempt the latter.

He started turning slowly. He felt the cage slip a little and started to worry he’d injure himself. But he continued to turn one slow notch at a time until he was a full 180° around and facing the opposite direction. Then he stopped and considered a different option. He could slowly rise instead of rushing forwards and let the cage slip down to his hands and lower it to the floor with the hope it didn’t miss his hands or drop too quickly. Easy, he told himself. Go easy. He began to straighten up and the bottom of the cage slid inch by inch…and then it dropped. He quickly opened his hands and caught it. It stung a little when it hit but he caught it. He stepped forwards, pulled his hands back, and let it go.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Now all he needed to do was get the handcuffs off. The easy part would be because he knew his Aunt Odette kept her keys in her jewelry box under the fake bottom. He’d had to retrieve a key from there once when he was in middle school. She didn’t keep all her spare keys in the jewelry box. Just the small ones. The only issue was he needed to be able to unlock the master bedroom door to get to the jewelry box. The problem was the key to his aunt’s bedroom was not in the hip pocket of his jeans. It was in the front. He would need to figure out how to get his handcuffed hands into the front pocket of his jeans.

If he was flexible, he could step through his hands and reach his front pocket and get the key to the bedroom. Or did any of this matter at this point? Should he just run and try to find a way to survive as a fugitive which, if he was being honest, sounded terrible. Especially with handcuffs on his wrists.

So, then, how could he get rid of these handcuffs? How could he get the key out of his front pocket? He needed a way to cut the chain. And because his hands were locked behind him, he would have to do it without being able to see what he was doing. He tried to remember if his aunt had a pair of wire cutters or something similar that would do the job. Maintenance tools were not her forte. It wasn’t like they were a piece of art she collected. But there might be some oddball items in the garage. Curtis headed into the hall and down the stairs. When he reached the front door, he had an epiphany. If he could get his hands on a long flexible thin pole or stick, one of his hands could steady the end and he could press his hip into a corner of a wall and bend the pole around his hips and work the other end into his front pocket and lift out the keys. He tried to think of an object that would fit the description. Then he remembered somewhere in his aunt’s office was an old long metal shoehorn. He had no idea why she kept it in there instead of her bedroom, but it was in there.

Curtis dashed over to the office where he proceeded to turn around, grab the knob with both his hands, and turned it. He pressed the door open with his hip and then turned around and went inside.

Aunt Odette kept it in the bottom drawer of her desk. Luckily, Curtis had left that drawer unlocked. He squatted down, turned around, grabbed the handle and pulled the drawer forwards. Still squatting he tiptoed back around 180˚ and faced the drawer. Inside lay the long metal shoehorn with the flexible end. He knew if he pressed hard enough into the bar it would bend and then the flexible part could slide into his front pocket and dig out the keys. Curtis turned back around and stuck his hands into the drawer and grabbed ahold of the shoehorn. Using his knees he pushed himself up to stand. Then he walked over to the corner of the wall and positioned himself so that he was holding the end of the shoehorn with his bound hands and began to press his hip against the handle.

Bending it was not as easy as he first thought, and he started to work up a sweat. But little by little the bar gave way and started to bow. Finally, it bowed enough for Curtis to attempt to fish the keys out of his right front pocket. He began to finesse the end of the flexible shoehorn towards his pocket. But the end of the shoehorn flexed and did not go inside. Curtis leaned into the wall and tried again. This time he was able to slip the shoehorn into the pocket before the end bent and flipped out. Curtis staggered back and then gave it one more chance. He leaned his hip into the wall against the bar, then he lifted his hip to give the direction of the shoehorn an angle. He curved a little, so the back of the bendable end folded into the pocket. He held his breath as he heard the light clank of metal against metal. He worked the shoehorn under the keys and attempted to scoop them out. But they caught on the fabric and would not budge.

He slipped the shoehorn in his front pocket again and this time he was able to get it under the keys and slowly slide them to the top of his pocket and flip them out onto the floor. He bent down and picked them up and darted out of the office and up the stairs.

When he reached his aunt’s bedroom, he held the doorknob steady with one hand and with the other he worked the key into the lock. He turned the key and pushed. The door gave way, and he headed inside. He hurried over to the dresser. He leaned in and used his chin to scoot the jewelry box forwards. Once he got the jewelry box to the edge, he leaned forward and let the box drop onto his chest and lowered himself to the floor. He bent in and used his nose to lift the lid. Then he turned around and reached his hands in to lift the fake bottom up.

As soon as his fingers grasped the key to the handcuffs he began to sob. He worked the key into the cuffs and unlocked them. He put his hands to his face as tears streamed down his cheeks. Just then he heard a noise downstairs. Someone was unlocking the front door.

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: BABY DRIVER (2017)-NETFLIX**

This week’s movie is a smart, fast-paced, edge of your seat action film that is as clever as it is visually stunning. After suffering a car wreck as a young child which left him with tinnitus, young talented Baby (Ansel Elgort) works or rather is forced to work for Doc (Kevin Spacey) as a getaway driver for his bank robber team who carry out his expertly designed plans. Baby’s hobby is remixing conversations he records and blending them with music. He is as frugal as he is brilliant at driving and has saved up a fortune in the floorboards of his apartment which he shares with a deaf foster father named Joseph (CJ Jones). Baby thinks his recent gig is his last and he is finally out of debt with Doc and strikes up a romance with a waitress named Debora (Lily James). But Doc pulls him in for one last job. And this crew is even more unstable than the last with a loose cannon named Bats (Jamie Foxx), a Wall Street banker gone criminal named Buddy (Jon Hamm) and his sultry wife Darling (Eiza González Reyna). When Baby drives the trio to a location to retrieve guns Bats suspects something is awry and things go horrifically wrong leaving Baby with not only his life in danger but Deborah’s as well.

My Novelist is Missing! Part Deux

August 15, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Thursday: Good afternoon. Gigi the parti poodle here and I must tell you my novelist still hasn’t returned to take me back to my humble abode. Allie the dachshund went home today. It was a sad thing as I had grown rather fond of her. Twin German Shepherds came to stay with me. One is named Riley, and the other is Durbin. They are quite large, but I seem to get along with them well. They respect my apartment, and I respect their large size. That evening, per my suggestion, we all sat in the living room and watched Paul Blart: Mall Cop. It is a guilty pleasure of mine and the twins liked the romance. Who would have thought?

That night I dreamed of my pillow at home in my novelist’s office. My cozy little place by the window where I can watch the quiet street. Except of course when UPS comes by…or FedEx…or USPS…or even OnTrack. Then I get riled. I dreamed my novelist was sitting in the chair near me. But when I awoke, I was in my own room at this strange place. I wish it had not been a dream.

Friday: No new news from my novelist. It has been nearly a week since she abandoned me. I have officially begun to give up hope. I am considering going on another hunger strike. I think of my bunny friend Bernard and his little sister Belle. I miss them terribly. Have they wondered where I’ve gone? Have they forgotten our tea parties? Our philosophical conversations? I wonder if they have even forgotten my name. I want to go back and run on my plot of grass. I want to travers through the lush tomato plants and sparse blueberry bushes. I want to chase a squirrel. It is strange the things you miss once they have been taken from you.

I spend some of the morning out in the prison yard refereeing the twins as they play fetch. It is quaint enough. But when I finally get some time alone, I cannot find the inspiration to write. It is simply not my yard, and I find it difficult to focus when I am not in my own environment. Although with the way things are going perhaps the prison yard is my own environment. Maybe it is time for me to consider the possibility that not all dogs that come here get to go home. Perchance, this is a place for abandoned dogs. Conceivably this Canis lupis familiaris has been left behind. Perhaps, I am no longer the owner of a novelist. If that is the case, I need to abandon my current tale and start anew. Maybe I should write a story about a parti poodle who was left behind and her heartache and loneliness. I shall reacquaint myself with Call of the Wild by Jack London. That dog’s story started in the Pacific Northwest. Maybe mine has too. I sincerely hope I will not be required to pull a mushing sled.

I withgo the hunger strike and nosh on my food throughout the day. I request a couple of treats from the man. He is kind enough to oblige. They tasted better when my novelist gave them to me, but treats are treats and they will do.

The twins join me in the prison yard again later in the afternoon. We all hear barking. Ripley says it is coming from large puppies down the street, likely owned by hobby breeders. At first the sound frightened me because I didn’t know if these puppies were heading our way. But I was relieved by Ripley’s analysis. Later that afternoon I read Anne of Green Gables. Her situation improved. The brother and sister gave her a home. One hopeful thought is perhaps a new novelist will allow me to adopt them. It breaks my heart because I want my old novelist back. A new novelist would be better than no novelist at all, but there is a small part of me that hopes she will soon return.

Saturday: It is warm and pleasant. I spent more time inside today however because of the smoky air. The twins’ owner comes to gather them, and I am the only dog left here now. I read more about Anne of Green Gables and her new life with the brother and sister. Afterwards, since I am alone in this place for the first time in a week, I attempt to explore my thoughts. I try to immerse myself in my imagination and come up with more ideas for my fictional stories. Nothing. I wait for the man to tell me my owner will be returning. No new news. I listen to the clock tick away the hours. They are long, empty, and fretful. I decided to take a nap until suppertime. It helped some. It was good to let go of reality for a while.

I dined alone this evening. Afterwards I sat on the couch and watched A Star Is Born. I felt depressed afterwards. I went to bed and looked up and watched the shadows move across the ceiling. I cried a little and then I fell asleep.

Sunday: I am awoken by the sound of chirping birds. I cannot remember my dreams. The man lets me outside and I take a lonely stroll in the yard. I sit on the grass and feel the sun on my face. He walks up to me, smiles, and says, “You’re a lucky dog today.” I must tell you I feel anything but lucky. I am anxious because I have no one to herd around or manage. Being in control is important to me and all there is to command is grass. Grass does not listen. However, after a while I start to sense something good. Something positive. I cannot put my paw on it at first, but I know something is on the horizon.

When it gets to be midafternoon and I am roaming the prison yard, I hear an automobile pull up onto the gravel in front of the gate. Ah, I think. Another dog or dogs have arrived. I will have herding to do soon. I must let them know to avoid my apartment and follow my instructions. The man brings my harness over to me, puts it on, and attaches my leash to it. He must be taking me out to greet them. We headed inside to my room where he retrieved my bed and blanket. He picks up my box with a couple of cans of my dog food still in it and we traverse out to the gate.

My heart leaps! I see my novelist approaching. I begin to bark loudly and uncontrollably. When she meets the man and me, she takes the leash, and I jump up and down in front of her. For a moment, terror overcomes me, and I worry she is only here to visit. But she thanks the man, leads me to the car and we leave.

I cannot contain myself. I am delirious. I bark excitedly and shiver all the way home. My novelist seems tired and worn. When we finally pulled up to our home and she took me outside I asked her why did you leave me? Where did you go? She replies, she had to go somewhere far away and dangerous, and I would not have been safe there. She tells me it is a place dogs can get kidnapped and used for practice for dog fighting. Others who get kidnapped are killed and used in rituals. The lucky ones get kidnapped and sold off as pets on the black market. I asked her if she was vacationing in Florida. She said no. She wanted to make sure I was in good hands. I plead with her to never leave me like that again. She tells me she cannot promise me she will not have to leave me again, but she can promise she will always do everything in her power to come back. Somehow, someway she will find a way back to me because she is my novelist, and she loves me. I am satisfied with her answer because it is logical, and I love her too. And now I must go rest so I can return to my writing and continue penning chapter thirty-eight of Certified Sadistic Accountant, which, dear reader, I will present to you next Thursday. Until then, I bid you adieu.