Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Seventeen

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Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter seventeen of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This is Oscar week and I have already been to the groomers and am looking fabulous. My novelist has even gifted me with a sparkly rhinestone collar. I am so delighted to wear it. I am always excited about viewing the gala as there are many delectable horderves and appetizers prepared by…him. They are downright scrumptious. As a poodle I only get to smell them mostly but occasionally a crumb or two might make its way to the floor and then it is heaven. I also enjoy filling out an Oscar ballot and trying to guess who will walk away with the gold. I am researching the Baftas, the Golden Globes, the Art Designer’s Guild Awards, the Costume Designer Guild Awards, the Director’s Guild Awards, the ACE Eddie Awards, and the SAG awards to try and decide which films have the best chance in each category. It is quite a research project. To all of you out there working on your Oscar competitions I wish you the best of luck. And now here is chapter seventeen of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant.  

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Seventeen

Mr. Dupree sat in his Steelcase chair in his home office talking to the police. “She never came back after lunch,” he told Sheriff Bob.

“Well, now,” Sheriff Bob said, “I’d love to help you, Dal but a person isn’t considered missing until it’s been at least twenty-four hours. Unless, of course, the person is under eighteen, which Fia is not.”

“It’s not like her to act this irresponsible. I mean she’s a little irresponsible. All college kids are a little irresponsible. But not to this degree. Her mother and I are deeply concerned. Deeply concerned, Bob. And we want the police looking for her as soon as possible.”

“I know how you feel, Dal. I know how you feel. If it was our Brady, Jill and I would be deeply concerned too.”

“And what would you do if it was Brady?”

“I’d start looking for him immediately. But I’d also know the police couldn’t start looking for him for a full twenty-four hours.”

“That’s absurd. Anything could happen in twenty-four hours. I could fly to Japan and back in twenty-four hours.”

“Well, you’d be going through a lightning-fast TSA line if you did.”

“You know what I mean, Bob.”

“Yes, Dal, I do. But that doesn’t take away from the fact Fia hasn’t been missing for twenty-four hours. Call me at noon tomorrow if she hasn’t shown up. I’ll get a posse together and go on a manhunt to bring Fia home.”

“She could be dead by tomorrow, Bob. My little girl could be dead. Do you have any idea how much I paid to put her through school? Not to mention all those years of theatre classes and long wretched hours of watching plays and listening to kids screw up lines and wander around on stage like donkeys with burrs in their hips.”

“I feel you, Dal. I surely do. But she went missing at noon and I can’t send my officers out to look for her until tomorrow.”

“I hope you shoot off your ass with that gun of yours, Bob.”

“Now, Dal, that’s no way to talk to an officer of the…”

Dallas Dupree hung up. He marched out of his office, down the stairs to the front door where he grabbed his coat and keys, headed into the garage, hopped in his Cadillac, and opened the automatic door.

“Idiot!” he growled as he began driving down the street. “She could be in a dumpster by now! She could be in Tiajuana walking the streets for tricks! She could be in a dirty bus on route to South America with some nutjob soldier of fortune who’s talked her into smuggling Peruvian cocaine into the US!” At least he was out here looking for her hoping by one small chance she might still be in the state, in town, hanging out with those nitwit friends of hers drinking shots of Jägermeister and flirting with imbecilic earwigs who still live in their parent’s basements.

Mr. Dupree headed downtown and pulled into the back parking lot of a sports bar called Deep League and turned off the engine of his silver Cadillac CT5. Deep League was the most popular bar in town, and he knew Fia and Bexley had met up there the night before. He figured if she was hanging out somewhere this was the place. He stepped into the dimly lit establishment. Green bar lights hung over a pool table and a foosball table. A pinball machine stood in the corner. The tables had the local sports team’s logos on the tops and the chairs were wooden with armrests and caster wheels. Loud music blasted from the sound system making him fear he would go deaf.

Mr. Dupree scanned the crowded room for his daughter. There was an ample amount of college aged men and women who had returned home for spring break. You see, Fia, he thought. Not everyone travels to exotic places between quarters. He slowly weaved his way up to the beaten up cherrywood bar with the hope the bartender who was working tonight was the one who worked the night before. “Excuse me,” he said when he arrived.  

The bartender turned around and looked at Mr. Dupree. Mr. Dupree noted the man had a tattoo of an angry black bear clutching an innocent looking bunny by the throat on his right bicep and a tattoo of a punk rock girl sporting a mohawk and smoking a cigarette on the left bicep. “What’ll you have, pops?” the bartender asked.

“I’m looking for a girl.”

“Aren’t we all.”

“No, I mean I’m looking for my daughter. I have a photo of her.” Dallas showed the bartender a recent picture of Fia on his phone.

“She’s hot.”

“Yes, well, be that as it may she’s decided to play hooky from work, and no one’s seen her since lunch. She came in here last night with my receptionist Bexley…”

“Oh, yeah! I know Bexley. She’s cool.”

“The point is Bexley, and my daughter came in here last night, and I was wondering if you’d seen them come in here this evening.”

“Man, I can’t recollect. Although I might be persuaded to search my memory files if you were to encourage me with a tip.”

“A tip? I didn’t order anything. Why should I tip you?”

“Suit yourself, pops. It’s not my daughter who’s missing.”

The bartender turned his back on Mr. Dupree and went about making a Harvey Wallbanger. Mr. Dupree’s face turned beat red. He glared at the bartender’s back. He hated being taken and he knew there was a fifty-fifty chance this guy didn’t remember Fia being in here at all. But he seemed to know Bexley. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.

“Bartender,” he said.

The bartender turned back around.

“I’ll have a Monkey Shoulder neat.”

“My kind of guy,” the bartender said handing the Harvey Wallbanger to his patron and grabbing a glass. He reached up to the top shelf and took down the bottle of Monkey Shoulder scotch and poured Mr. Dupree his libation. He set the glass on the bar and Mr. Dupree paid for the drink plus a hefty tip.

“Yeah, I saw Bexley and your daughter last night. They came in and ordered a couple of drinks. I remember Bexley ordered an apple martini and your daughter ordered pineapple juice and soda. Bexley was trying to get her to put a little rum in it, but your daughter said no. Said she needed to work the next day. Then they played foosball for about a half an hour.”

“And tonight?”

“Haven’t seen them.”

“Great,” Dallas said sarcastically. “You have been so much help.”

“Thanks for the tip, pops.”

Mr. Dupree downed his scotch, turned on his heel, and left the establishment.

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: NYAD (2024)-NETFLIX

This week’s pick is an Oscar nominated biopic about Diana Nyad, a fierce, focused athlete who unabashedly sets out at the age of sixty to swim from Cuba to the Florida Keys.

The film starts out with Diana (Annette Benning in a much-deserved Oscar nominated performance) celebrating her birthday with a surprise party thrown by her best friend and fellow athlete Bonnie Stoll (the always fantastic Jodie Foster in an Oscar nominated performance). Diana had attempted to make the swim from Cuba to Florida in 1978 at the age of twenty-eight but was unable to reach her destination. After celebrating her 60th birthday, Diana decides one way or another to reach her ever elusive goal. She begins training by swimming at the local pool and lifting weights.

She enlists a reluctant Bonnie to be her coach and the two relocate to Florida where they hire John Bartlett (Rhys Ifans) to be their navigator on the boat that will accompany Diana. They set out to make the journey. Determined to swim without a cage she uses a special shark repellant electronic device known as a Shark Shield. Diana finds herself pushed off course by unfavorable ocean currents and she is unable to reach Florida. But Diana is determined to reach her goal and prepares for her third attempt. She finds a box jellyfish expert who gives her a specially designed suit to fight the deadly stinging box jellyfish, her other worst enemy on her journey.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Sixteen

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Good evening. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter sixteen of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week I will be attending the funeral with my novelist. It has been a tiring week with many things to prepare. A funeral is much like a wedding except it must be done faster. It costs about the same. One is better served if one does not die broke. I had no idea how many intricacies were involved from clothes to flowers to obituaries to receptions. It is a methodical affair. I must say I am fortunate to have black and white hair. It seems to go with all occasions whether they be joyful or somber. I enjoy being the center of attention but this time I think I will stay more in the background and let my novelist and her family take the center stage. From what I have learned the southern states have more lavish funerals than those of us in the Pacific Northwest. Perhaps we could learn something from them. I’m not sure we take ours seriously enough. And with that thought here is chapter sixteen of Certified Sadistic Accountant.  

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Sixteen

Once Curtis secured Fia in the attic, he decided to assemble the ransom note. He knew an email would be difficult for him to spoof so he decided to do it the old-fashioned way with words cut from magazines pasted to paper. His worry, of course, was DNA. He put on gloves, a shower cap, a face mask and made sure the surface of Aunt Odette’s desk was spotless. He rarely if ever went into his aunt’s office. He unlocked the door (she always kept it locked) and after putting on his gear sat down and got to work.  

After he had left work that evening, he stopped at the local drug store and purchased a pair of tweezers with cash. No one would think twice about someone purchasing a pair of tweezers with cash. Mr. Dupree had been quite agitated with Fia not returning to the receptionist desk after lunch. Curtis figured he was about to get a lot more agitated once he received the ransom note. Curtis stopped at a different store to purchase a package of Elmer’s Glue Sticks and a small ream of ordinary letter paper. He set them on his aunt’s desk while he located a pair of scissors in the desk drawer and sanitized them. He’d chosen a couple of art magazines from a file on his aunt’s shelf. He decided these would do nicely.

He clipped the magazine cuttings first, flipping through pages and searching for the perfect words. Brief and to the point he told himself. Nothing extraneous to give himself away. After he finished cutting out all the words, he carefully set them on a sheet of paper from the ream. Then he removed the tweezers from the packaging and set them on a second sheet of paper. He opened the glue sticks and set them with the tweezers.

He fumbled with his gloved hands slowly adhering the words to a third sheet of paper. He realized he needed a second instrument to work with the tweezers to make certain the words pressed down and stuck. He wished he had purchased a second set of tweezers. He scanned around his aunt’s desk. Suddenly, he saw an unsharpened pencil with an unused eraser on it. This would do quite nicely. He carefully cleaned the pencil with a Clorox wipe and let it dry.

He used the eraser to help steady and put pressure on the words so they would stick to the paper. It took him a good hour, but he finally finished the ransom note. He sat back in his chair and admired his artwork. He would let the glue dry while he made dinner for Fia. This time he wouldn’t make the mistake of allowing her to escape.

He removed his rubber gloves, mask, and shower cap, locked the door of the office behind him, and headed into the kitchen. He took an apron off a hook on the wall, put it on and tied it. Late last night he went to the grocery store and purchased enough food to last two weeks. He figured that should be enough time to accomplish his mission.

He turned on the oven to 400 degrees, opened the refrigerator and took out a head of iceberg lettuce, a green pepper, a cucumber, olives, snap peas, and celery. On the counter were a brown paper bag with white mushrooms and a small box of cherry tomatoes. He took a knife from the wood block on the counter and cut off some of the lettuce and chopped it up. He grabbed a ceramic soup bowl from the cupboard and lined the bottom of it with the lettuce. He neatly arranged the vegetables inside the bowl then put the bowl in the refrigerator.

He pulled a tray of chicken tenders out of the refrigerator and set them on the counter. He grabbed a small pan from the bread warmer under the stove, lined it with foil, laid the chicken tenders on it and seasoned them with lemon pepper. Then he put the pan in the oven.

He located a wide stemmed glass in the cupboard and stuck it into the refrigerator to chill. He got out a fork from the silverware drawer and a cloth napkin from the cabinet beneath. He folded the napkin so he could slip the fork into it. Napkin folding was something his Aunt Odette had taught him when he was in middle school. She was determined not to have an ill-refined nephew. He found a tray under the counter and set the napkin-wrapped fork on it.

The timer went off and Curtis removed the chicken from the oven. He took a spatula from the large silver cylindrical utensil holder his aunt had on the counter near the stove, grabbed an oven-mitt and took the pan of chicken out of the oven. He lifted the chicken tenders off the pan and set them on a wooden cutting board. He grabbed a knife out of the wooden block and proceeded to cut the chicken tenders into bite-sized pieces. Curtis took the chilled salad out of the refrigerator and with a set of metal tongs he arranged the bite-sized pieces on the salad. He set the salad on the tray with the napkin and fork, stuck a bottle of balsamic vinaigrette dressing in one of the deep front pockets of his apron, stuck his bear mace in the other and headed upstairs to the attic.

This time Curtis was prepared for an escape attempt. He knocked on the door and said, “Fia, I’ve brought you something to eat.” Curtis opened the door, flipped on the light, and quickly shut the door behind him.

“I’m not hungry,” Fia grumbled.

“I doubt it,” Curtis said. “Right over there against the wall to your left is a table and two chairs.”

Fia sized up the table. “That’s a weird looking table.”

“My aunt made it.”

“Your aunt makes furniture?”

“More or less. She went through a wood phase.” Fia reluctantly lumbered over to the table. She pulled out the chair on the left-hand side and plopped down.

Curtis set the fork he’d placed inside the folded napkin on Fia’s left and placed her salad beside it. “I didn’t know what kind of dressing you liked so I brought a vinaigrette.”

He pulled the bottle of dressing out of the deep front pocket of his apron and set it beside her salad.

“Nothing to drink, huh?”

“I didn’t know what you liked.”

“Do you have Perrier?”

“I’ll check. My aunt usually keeps some stocked in the refrigerator.”

Curtis backed up cautiously keeping his eyes on Fia. She kept her eyes on him as well. He arrived at the door and fumbled for the doorknob behind him. He turned it, hopped out, slammed the door shut and locked it. He hurried downstairs to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Aunt Odette always kept large bottles of Perrier in the refrigerator door. But Curtis saw only one…and it had been opened. He took it out, poured some in a glass and tried it. It was flat. He sighed, poured the remainder down the drain, and tossed the empty bottle into the recycling.

He removed the chilled glass he’d put in the refrigerator, took out ice cubes from the freezer, put the ice in the glass and filled the glass with water from the tap. He carried the glass of water up the stairs to the attic. He knocked on the door and said, “I’ve got your water.” He unlocked the door, pushed it ajar, and quickly flipped on the light with his elbow. Fia glared back at him. “My aunt has run out of Perrier, so I brought you some ice water. He walked over to her and set the glass down on the table.

Fia studied the beverage. “Don’t you have a SodaStream to put some fizz in this?”

“No.”

Fia took a sip of the water. “Augh,” she said. “It tastes like water.”

“I’ll see if I can get you some Perrier.”

“I’d prefer San Pellegrino. In a glass bottle, not a plastic one.”

“I’ll get what I can get.”

“And some fresh lemons to go with it would be great.”

“Enjoy your food,” he said and turned to leave.

“Did you bring me here because no one will date you?”

“What? No.”

“It’s what everyone in the office thinks.”

“I don’t care what everyone in the office thinks.”

“You brough me here because you can’t get a date.”

“Shut up about my sex life.”

Fia slammed down her fork. “What am I supposed to talk about? I’m locked up in your weird aunt’s attic and I’m bored. I have nothing to do. I’ll talk about whatever I want to talk about.”

“What do you mean you have nothing to do? I thought you were a performance artist. You’re in a room filled with props and clothes and art my aunt collected and you tell me you’re bored. How did you manage to earn a scholarship? Look around, come up with an idea and stage a show for all I care.”

Curtis turned around, marched out the door, slammed it shut and locked it. Then he headed down the stairs. He unlocked his aunt’s office and dropped down in the desk chair. What did she know? Besides he had an envelope to prepare, and a ransom note to deliver. 

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 AFTER (2023)-NETFLIX

This week’s pick is another nominated short live action film from Netflix. And I should warn you it is a harrowing one. A man and his young daughter are spending an ordinary day out and about in London. And then something unexpected happens that changes their lives forever. It is not a story for the faint of heart, but it is a strong one and a quick watch at eighteen minutes.

Gigi’s Respite

~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here. On a normal Thursday I would be posting the next chapter of my story. But I will not be doing that today because I have some sad news. My novelist’s father passed away this week and she and I are taking a respite so we can take care of all the necessary arrangements. After much deliberation we decided to forgo posting our usual Thursday blog. We will return next week with chapter sixteen of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant and another stream of the week from my novelist. Until then, I bid you adieu.   

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Fifteen

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Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to present chapter fifteen of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. I hope everyone had a very Happy Valentine’s Day. A bit of trivia about Valentine’s Day is in Germany poodles are often given as gifts.

That is not right. They do not give out poodles as gifts on Valentine’s Day.

What would you know of it you rotten Maltese?

They do not give poodles or anything poodle as gifts traditionally. They give pigs.

They…pigs?

Yes. It is a Valentine’s Day tradition to give pigs and pig-themed presents as gifts in Germany.

Why?

Pigs are considered a sign of wealth and lust in Germany. I like pigs. I had a friend who was a pig once. We went to the carnival together. It was fun.

I never remember you having a pig as a friend.

We used to share cotton candy. It was cute when she got some of the cotton candy stuck on her nose. She liked the bumper cars and the merry go round. She was not fond of the bouncy house, however. She said when she was a piglet she was at a party once with a bunch of other piglets and the bouncy house blew up into the sky and hit a small biplane.

Good grief! Were they hurt?

No.

Yes, well…and with that thought here is chapter fifteen of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Alles Gute zum Valentinstag.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Fifteen

Curtis crept towards the attic door. He checked his grip on the bear mace in his right hand and the flashlight in his left. He crisscrossed his arms as if he were a cop. He listened at the door. He didn’t hear a sound. Slowly, he lowered the flashlight and bear mace to the floor. His hands shook as he tried to unlock the door. But he succeeded. The lock opened, he turned the knob and quickly grabbed the flashlight and the bear mace. He entered and scanned the room.

“Fia,” he called.

Silence.

“Show yourself, Fia,” he called as he backed up to the wall. He attempted to turn on the light switch with his shoulder but to no avail. He tried flipping it on again, scanning the room as he did.

“Fia!”

Still no answer.

He crept forwards scanning the room with the flashlight and mace. Suddenly, something moved behind him. He whipped around and saw Fia bolt for the door. He fired the mace at her, but he missed. She tripped on a small sculpture before regaining her balance and springing towards freedom. Curtis fired the bear mace again but only succeeded in spraying the back of her head. She rounded the corner and raced for the stairs. Curtis followed in a hot pursuit and headed down after her.

“Fia!”

Fia hit the bottom of the stairs and rushed into the living room. Curtis had not turned on the lights and she fumbled around in the dark for the exit. Suddenly, she tripped on the large lip-shaped couch and lost her balance. She struggled to her feet, but Curtis had made it to the bottom of the stairs. Frantically feeling her way around, she skittered behind the couch and hid.

“Fia!” Curtis yelled again as he rushed into the living room. “Fia!” He resumed his cop stance with his flashlight and bear mace. He fumbled in the dark to the floor lamp beside the chair/bookcase, carefully switched the bear mace to his right hand and turned on the light. His eyes darted around as he returned the bear mace to his right hand.

Behind the lip-shaped couch Fia held her breath. She hoped Curtis would leave the room and search the kitchen so she could bolt for the front door. She gently moved her hand under the couch, but she could tell there was no clearance, no way to crawl under and hide.

The beam of the flashlight scanned the top of the lip couch. Fia waited. She felt like an escaped prisoner trying to hide from a searchlight. She heard the blood pulsing in her head. She pricked her ears and listened for what he was doing. Was he toying with her? Did he already know she was there? Was he waiting for her to make the wrong move? Suddenly, she heard him head towards the door, open it, open the screen door, and then shut them both. She heard his footfalls on the front steps. Then there was silence.

She wanted to cry. She couldn’t stand the tension much longer. She worried if she ran for the door, he would ambush her. If she crept out from behind the couch, he’d see her through the windows. She looked to her left. There was not much space between her and the wall. She could squeeze over behind the green couch on the opposite side of the room. The problem was she couldn’t hide under or behind it because the high clearance of the legs would make it easy to see her. She peaked out from the right side of the couch and peered out the front window. It was too dark to locate Curtis. She looked over to her right at the kitchen and tried to guess how easy it would be to get there. If she could get through it, she could head for the exit facing the lake and run for freedom. But she would have to run fast, very fast if she was going to make it.

She considered turning off the floor light, but Curtis might not be far from the front door and could rush back into the house. She’d have to hope she could outrun his sight. She took a deep breath as she counted to four, exhaled as she counted to four. She turned carefully, faced the kitchen, and took off.

Curtis, who had been standing outside in the shadows close to the door, saw the moment he’d been waiting for and caught her movement out of the corner of his eye. He darted around the side of the house just in time to see Fia burst out of the back door and make a beeline for the lake. Curtis had never been athletic and quickly realized Fia was faster. But he was tenacious and headed after her as fast as his tennis shoes would take him.

Fia felt Curtis pounding up behind her and set her sights on the nearest house in hopes its owners would be home. She saw a light in the one to the left and sprinted towards it. “Help!” she yelled. “Help me!” She turned the corner and plowed up the steps to the neighbor’s porch facing the lake. She pounded on the door and rang the bell. “Help! Help!” But no one came to the door.

Lights went on in the neighbor’s house to the left, however. Curtis caught this immediately and as soon as Fia ran down the steps and sprinted for the house on the right, he jumped in front of her, shined the flashlight in her eyes and sprayed her in the face with mace finally hitting his target.

Fia screamed and held her face as Curtis hurried up and grabbed her from behind. She fought back lashing out at him blindly. She palm-heeled him in the cheek just missing his nose. The strike hurt him, but he stayed focused and grabbed her around the waist and wrestled her to the ground.

“Stop struggling, I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

“You already hurt me!”

“Shut up. We’re going to get up and go back to the house.”

“No!”

“I’ve got a lot more mace in this can. I can keep this up all night.”

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“I won’t if you get up and go back to the house.”

“You’re not locking me in that attic again.”

“You’re not running away again.”

Curtis reached into his pocket and pulled out a zip tie. He put her hands together and secured them. He got up, pulled her to her feet and started leading her back to the cabin.

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: KILLERS OF THE FLOWER MOON (2023)-APPLE TV+

One of the strangest Oscar snubs this year was Leonardo DiCaprio’s superb performance as the complex villainous lead in this historic crime story. The film, based on David Gran’s book Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI, tells the terrifying true story set in 1920’s Oklahoma where oil was discovered beneath land belonging to the Osage Nation. The Osage became wealthy from the valuable resource and were able to purchase expensive cars, fine jewelry, and send their children to private Europe schools. But members of the tribe mysteriously begin to die, many by violent means.

William King Hale (Robert De Niro) is the reserve deputy sheriff and a cattle rancher of the Osage. He is also a crime boss, politician, and garden variety psychopath. He owns a large ranch thanks to the fortune he amassed through insurance fraud and unfair trade with the Osage. He seeks to grow his fortune by having his nephews Byron Burkhart (Scott Shephard) and Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio) marry female Osage and take their fortunes. Ernest has just returned from fighting in WWI and finds settling down with a wealthy wife appealing.

In between nightly rounds of robbing Osage at gunpoint with his brother Byron, Ernest begins working as a chauffeur for Mollie Kyle (Lily Gladstone in an excellent Oscar nominated performance). The relationship soon turns romantic, and he asks her to marry him. But Mollie begins to realize things aren’t quite right and the Osage enlists the help of the government to investigate the murders of their family members including Mollie’s sister Anna (Cara Jade Myers). The government agrees and sends FBI agent Tom White (Jesse Plemons) and his fellow assistants to investigate.

Although this is a solid film it does tend to run a little long and may have benefited from tightening up the story and shortening the film by about thirty minutes. That said, it’s worth watching for its historical significance, the cinematography, the costume design, and the excellent performances.

~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment
Daily writing prompt
You get some great, amazingly fantastic news. What’s the first thing you do?
View all responses

I would have my novelist make an appointment with the groomers so I would look good for the picture on the back of my book and be ready for my close up.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Fourteen

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Good afternoon. I am Gigi the parti poodle. Welcome to my blog. This week my novelist had to travel and take care of business. She gave me free reign of the house for the day and left me in charge of our humble abode. Tucker the Maltese was locked in the panic room. I guarded over our home vigilantly. During that time, I read a few short stories, watched a cooking show and I made myself lunch. I barked at the occasional passerby, checked up on my stocks and of course worked on my story. I enjoyed my freedom immensely, but I was delighted when my novelist came home that evening. She was of course proud of the way I handled our property and was glad to see me again. I am certain she will give me more responsibility in the future. And with that delightful thought, here is chapter fourteen of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Enjoy.  

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Fourteen

“You’re late,” Mr. Dupree said as Curtis came through the front doors of the Dupree Accounting agency.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dupree. I had to pick up some batteries for my dad.”

“Can’t your father buy his own batteries?”

“These are special batteries for a clock.”

“A clock?”

“My mom and dad got this crystal clock for their wedding years ago that only takes a certain type of battery.”

“Why don’t your mom and dad invest in a new clock?”

“The clock has sentimental value.”

“I’ll be glad to offer them my thoughts on clocks I’ve had good luck with. And aren’t you working on the VanArsdale’s taxes?”

“Yes. I’ll have them finished today.”

Mr. Dupree looked over at the receptionist’s desk. “Speaking of late, where’s my daughter? She’s supposed to be taking this job seriously.”

“Maybe she saw something in a store window that caught her eye.”

“That’s unlikely. She does nearly all her shopping online.”

“Nearly all?”

“I get the bills.”

“I see.”

As Curtis took a seat at his desk, Lance turned to him and said, “Check this out.” He stuck his phone in Curtis’s face. On the screen was a picture of Bexley smiling as she posed between two male volleyball players. Curtis felt his heart sink, but he kept his cool.

“Looks like she’s having fun,” Curtis said.

“Looks like she’s getting lucky.”

“Didn’t you get the picture, Cook?” Makenna snarked. “Everyone else got one.”

“I haven’t had a chance to check my phone this afternoon,” Curtis said.

He looked down and noticed his hand was shaking. He casually placed it on the desk to steady it hoping no one would notice. His arteries were still pumping with adrenaline. But he needed to remain calm. Make everyone think it was just another dull day at the office. He glanced over at Irving and Grady. Grady glanced back which made Curtis knock over his pencil cup.

“Whoa,” Lance said. “Little too much coffee there, Cook the Books?”

Calm, Curtis told himself. Stay calm. He picked up the pens and pencils and returned the cup to an upright position. He opened his folder on the computer for the VanArsdale account and began working. He felt a certain thrill about what had transpired that afternoon. For the first time in a long time, he had gotten the upper hand.

Curtis drove his Honda down Riverside Drive. It was a dark clear dusk, hardly a car around. He didn’t like driving to the cabin at night. The road was like riding on an indoor roller coaster traveling over and around corners on route to the lake.

He’d had the sense to shut off his phone before leaving for lunch that day. And he’d had the sense to shut it off before leaving the duplex. He’d also had the sense that afternoon to grab Fia’s handbag, drive back to the mall, park, and shut off her phone. It was as good of place for her to disappear as any. He’d put the phone back in the handbag and put the handbag in the trunk. He’d stick it in his aunt’s large safe when he reached the cabin.

Keeping his phone off at the cabin was not an issue. If he really needed to call someone Aunt Odette had a landline in her bedroom. His dad had been trying to get her to shut it off for some time. But his aunt insisted it was important to have a landline as well as a cell phone. Especially since one of the cabins on the opposite side of the lake had been burgled. The family, a man, his wife, and their two children had been home at the time. Although all four survived the incident there were rumors it had been a more terrifying ordeal than the local paper reported. Aunt Odette was not fond of terrifying ordeals and therefore kept the landline. In addition, she kept a set of throwing knives under her bed. If one were to go out back where the property overlooked the lake, one would find a bullseye set up where she practiced.

As far as how she became adept in the skills of knife throwing, it had started with her college roommate. The roommate came from a carnival family. She was the first to attend college. On weekends, the two young women would go out to the knife throwing range and practice.

One time in Japan while attending an art festival, Aunt Odette met a painter who had studied martial arts all his life. Aunt Odette begged him to teach her the skill of throwing stars. At first, he was apprehensive but later decided Curtis’s aunt was quite serious about learning how to throw shuriken and he became her shurikenjutsu instructor. She excelled and later kept a few throwing stars hidden in different parts of the cabin.

Curtis turned off the car in the small separate garage and sat relishing the victory of his efforts. His plan was not yet complete, but he had successfully executed part one. Now all he had to do was check on Fia.

He disembarked the car, put down the garage doors and headed into the cabin. Everything was as he’d left it that afternoon. He moved into the kitchen and grabbed a flashlight out of one of the drawers. He knew Fia would try to escape, and he would have to take measures against her if she did. And so, he also procured a large can of bear mace from under the sink. Then he headed up the stairs to the attic door.     

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: POISON, THE RAT CATCHER, AND THE SWAN (2023)-NETFLIX

Last week’s pick was the Oscar Nominated, The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar. In addition, Wes Anderson has also made three other Roald Dahl shorts based on Dahl’s short stories. These thoughtful and whimsical tales are also well worth watching and star members of the same cast.

Poison is about a man named Harry Pope (Benedict Cumberbatch), an Englishman living in India, who while lying in bed discovers a small but poisonous snake on his stomach. His friend Timber Woods (Dev Patel) returns home to discover Harry lying very still. Whispering Harry explains his peril. Timber then calls Dr. Ganderbai (Ben Kingsley) to help save Harry.

The Rat Catcher is a creepy little tale (no pun intended) about a newspaper Editor (Richard Ayoade) who’s office is next door to a mechanic Claude (Rupert Friend). Claude has a rat problem and so by special orders from the Health Office an unusual rodent officer known as the Rat Man (Ralph Fiennes) has come out to deal with the rats. Pay close attention to the set when watching this one.

The Swan tells the story told by a Narrator (Rupert Friend) about a young boy named Peter Watson (Asa Jennings) who is pursued by two psychopathic boys. One of the large idiotic bullies (as they are called) named Ernie has been given a gun and a box of bullets for his birthday. He goes to the house of Raymond, the other idiotic bully to go out with him in search of something to kill. 

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Thirteen

~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

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

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the Parti Poodle

Chapter Thirteen

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

“Looking for something?” Curtis asked.

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

“Lips get chapped this time of year?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

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

“A way.”

“So, what is it your aunt needs?”

“She needs me to pick something up.”

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

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

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

“Open the glove compartment please.”

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

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

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

“Open the wrapper for me, would you?”

“Can’t you open it yourself?”

“I’m driving.”

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

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

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

“Your aunt isn’t here?”

“She’s in Canada right now.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

“No.”

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

Fia shrugged. “Sure.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

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

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

“Fia,” Curtis called returning to the room.

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

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

“Why?” she said.

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

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

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

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

“I’ll keep you safe. Come on.”

Fia sighed. “Fine.”

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

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

“It’s too cramped,” Curtis insisted.

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

“It’s deceptively difficult to navigate.”

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

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

“Hey!” Fia yelled.

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

MY BOOKS

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

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

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

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

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

If I won the lottery…

~ gigicatchesair ~ 1 Comment
Bloganuary writing prompt
What would you do if you won the lottery?
View all responses

Being a frugal poodle who loves to watch old reruns of EF Hutton commercials on YouTube, I would invest, invest, invest. I would of course treat myself to a diamond encrusted collar. But luxuries beyond that would be little to none save a house on a hill where I could look down on my underlings as I continued to write stories, watch my investments, and enjoy the growth of my money.