Certified Sadistic Accountant: Chapter Thirty-Six

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Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce Chapter Thirty-Six of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week my novelist has done a lot of cleaning which I find a rather dull affair. I do like a clean home, but it is such a bother to scrub this and sweep that. I can think of much more entertaining ways to spend my time. I do think there are those out there who find cleaning cathartic. My novelist, however, does not. She does it begrudgingly. She does it because she must. She does not find one scrap of joy in it. It is out of necessity and nothing more. I find it utterly exhausting watching her dust this and straighten that. And don’t get me started on vacuuming. That’s just mortifying. Absolute terror if you want to know the truth. But since her cleaning spree things are a little neater. A little better. Still, I would rather write and let the dust settle where it may. And with that thought here is Chapter Thirty-Six of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Attention à la poussière.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Thirty-Six

Let’s back up.

Fia ran down the hall, swung right and plowed down the stairs. She rushed past the kitchen into the living room, her heart racing so fast she could hardly see. She tripped, caught her balance and burst out the front door. She turned left and headed around the house towards the lake. She was certain as soon as Curtis found a way to get loose, he would assume she ran for the road. As she turned right and followed the shoreline, she considered calling out for help. But the last thing she needed was to draw Curtis’s attention and end up back in the attic.

She slowed and moved stealthily along the bank, grateful for freedom. Fresh clean air raced in and out of her lungs. She was glad she had worn low-healed lace up boots to the office the day Curtis abducted her. Tennis shoes would have been better, but the boots worked fine. She glanced out at the water. The sun glittered on it like diamonds. Although it was sunny, it was still cold. It was April after all. She wished she’d grabbed a warmer coat like that old fur Curtis’s aunt had hanging in the armoire. At least she’d put on a medium weight jacket, and it didn’t look as though it was going to rain.

Her ears perked for the sound of someone coming up behind her. She turned around every so often just to make sure no one was on her trail. She could see it was getting closer to sunset. Her hope was to make it out on the main drag by dark and arrive at the mall before it closed. She’d head into one of the stores and borrow the phone to call her parents. Then she could be home that night and sleep in her own full-sized bed. It wasn’t a perfect bed. It needed a new mattress and a new bedding set. But as far as she was concerned, it was the best bed in the world. Somewhere along here there must be a trail to take to get to the main road. Otherwise, she’d end up circling the lake.

“Hey!” someone shouted from their deck startling her. “This is private property!”

Fia ignored them and kept moving. She hurried past two more houses. Then she saw a road leading out. She turned and headed up it and arrived at the shoulder of the main road. She stayed as far to the side as she could, hoping to be camouflaged by the foliage. She worried about how winding the path was, but she had no choice. A pickup truck sped past her. A Labrador mix in the flatbed barked at her as it went by. For a moment Fia thought of Curtis’s little Yorkshire Terrier. If only those idiot accountants hadn’t broken into his house and the dog hadn’t gotten killed, she wouldn’t be doing this right now.

The seemingly endless stretch of asphalt was going to be a lot longer going back than it had been going in. Though it was chilly, walking kept her warm. She slogged along knowing daylight was fading and darkness was not far away. Traffic was light but she was still concerned about being hit by a vehicle. Every so often she checked behind her to see if Curtis was hot on her trail. But she didn’t see anyone. She swore she would never trust people again. She’d met questionable guys in college, but Curtis took the cake.

Fia finally made it to the intersection leading into town. Darkness had fallen and although the sky had been clear earlier, it had started to rain. But she was free and that was what mattered. She plodded along towards the crosswalk and waited for the signal. She turned left en route to the mall. The walk had been much longer than she had anticipated. But she’d made it. She wasn’t wearing a watch, and her phone was long gone. She figured it was late enough that the mall was likely closed by now.

When she reached the mall, she found the parking lot desolate. She walked over to the doors where she and Curtis had entered to go to the sports store. She pulled on the handle and hung her head when she realized they were locked. She looked around to see if there was a security guard in the nearby vicinity. But she saw no one. She started to move around the perimeter of the building trying to stay sheltered from the pelting raindrops.

When she reached the opposite side, exhaustion flooded in, and she knew she would have to either find a way to contact her family soon or seek shelter until she regained energy. Regaining energy sounded like the right option. She huddled in the back of the main entrance that led into the small food court, sank down, wrapped her arms around her knees and stared out at the road. She would stay here a short while, stave off sleep, and then continue her voyage home.  

Fia woke with a jolt. It was still night, but it felt like it might be close to daybreak. She rose to her feet by pressing her back against the glass doors for balance until she was standing. The rain had stopped but it had grown colder. She shivered and hugged her arms around herself as she walked back around to the other side of the building. When she arrived at the corner, she lurked in the shadows and surveyed the parking lot still concerned that Curtis was looming around waiting for her. But as she scanned the open space from left to right no one was there. She proceeded towards the parking lot’s main entrance en route to the main drag. Everything felt cool and dark and still. The nap had done her good and she felt more rested. But it was still a long way home.

As she started over the bridge she looked down over the side and spotted two white trumpeter swans. She remembered reading somewhere that swans mated for life. As she continued, she started to think about stopping somewhere again. Home was still far away, and she would need to stop again for shelter soon. She recalled there was a church a little way up the steep hill that led downtown. She’d turn there and see if anyone was inside. Maybe even this late someone was around. Maybe they’d have a blanket. She decided it was a good thing she’d slept for a while at the mall. If Curtis had tried to find her, her trail would have gone cold there. She was confident he was not presently pursuing her. It was frustrating she was too far away from a police station, and she couldn’t remember where the closest fire station was from here. It had moved to a different location a year or two ago and she wasn’t sure where that was.

By the time she arrived at the church, Fia’s feet were aching. Wearily, she raised her hand and knocked on the door.

“Please,” she muttered, her eyelids heavy, closing intermittently.

She listened for footsteps. None came. She knocked harder this time and waited. Nothing. She pounded one more time, louder and longer. Nothing. Fia sank down to the cement and pebble steps and curled up in the entryway.

A short time later, a hand reached out and touched her shoulder. “What are you doing here?” the owner of the hand said.

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: COLUMBO (1971)-AMAZON PRIME

This summer I was looking for a show that I could stream that would be fun, smart and enjoyable to watch. I rediscovered the iconic classic Columbo. This show slaps. From the stylish 70’s living rooms to the wild wardrobes to the luxury cars of the time to the whip smart scripts to the unbelievably talented guest stars this show is a pure blast.

Set in Los Angeles, California and usually involving ridiculously wealthy upper-class villains, the stories often revolve around a greedy whip smart classy scumbag who decides to off someone for profit. These upper-crust rogues plan out their crime well. They don’t rush. They are not emotional. They know exactly what they want, and they have a sophisticated way they are going to get it. As the audience, we know the identity of the culprit early on and are often given clues to how to figure out how they will get caught along the way. Thus the show is what is known as an inverted detective story.

After committing the crime, in walks consummate INTP personality type Lieutenant Frank Columbo (marvelously and iconically played by Peter Falk). Columbo’s first name Frank is never mentioned in the show. It is only shown on his badge. He shows up in a beaten-up light-colored Peugeot wearing a rumpled trench coat (which Peter Falk himself once picked up for $15.00) and a modest suit and tie. He is humble, polite, curious, and very, very persistent. And, like all of us introverted intuitive thinkers, he works alone. The villain often finds him annoying, lowbrow, and pesky. Far too insignificant for the likes of them. But slowly, methodically, and merrily, Columbo puts the puzzle pieces into place all while thoughtfully smoking a green cigar.

Most crime shows today would be gritty, bloody and hard. Not here. This show lives in a world with a sense of humor, intelligence, class, and wit. If you are a fan of Only Murders in the Building or perhaps any number of British detective shows, this one might be right up your ally. Or if you’re just looking for something smart and breezy to binge and you’ve never watched it, give this classic landmark television show a try.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Thirty-Five

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Good afternoon. Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter thirty-five of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week I had a tea party with Bernard D. Bunny. We tried a white tea with apples blend from Harney & Sons. It was sensational. As white tea has the most caffeine of all the teas, we had an abundance of energy for the rest of the afternoon. We also nibbled on short bread cookies infused with cherry green tea. We did a bunny hop with a baby bunny named Belle A Bunny, Bernard’s younger sister. We also played leapfrog and of course Bridge. I am rather good at the game if I do say so myself. But Belle turned out to be the expert. She won the most rounds. She is quite wily. And the white tea made her wilier. Afterwards, I headed back inside and had a good nap before putting the final touches on my story. And so, here it is chapter thirty-five of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Bonne journée du lapin d’été!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Thirty-Five

“Good morning, sport,” Dallas Dupree said to the delivery girl as she arrived early Monday with the day’s croissants.

“Where’s that guy who’s always here when I come in?” the girl asked.

“You mean Curtis? I don’t know. I was surprised he wasn’t here when I arrived. He’s always here when I get here.”

“Is your daughter still missing?”

“Yes. My wife and I have had the worst week of our lives.”

“That sucks.”

“Oddly the kidnappers did not ask for money.”

“Isn’t asking for money what kidnappers do?”

“Usually.”

“Well, good luck. I hope your daughter comes back soon.”

“Thank you, sport. Here you go.”

Mr. Dupree handed the girl a tip.

“Thanks, Mr. Dupree.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mr. Dupree unlocked the front door and let the girl out then he locked the door back up and headed into the break room to get a croissant and a cup of coffee before going upstairs to his office.

Ten minutes later Grady, Irwin, Lance and Makenna, each carrying a pastel coffee cup from The Steamed Bean unlocked the front door and entered.

“This whole thing is bizarre,” Irwin said.

“But we’re here on time,” Grady said checking his watch. “That’s what matters.”

Makenna looked over at Curtis’s empty desk. “Where’s Cook?” she asked.

“Cook?” Lance called out.

“Maybe he’s in the bathroom,” Irving said.

“He’s always at his desk when we come in,” Makenna said.

“He’s not there now.”

Makenna marched into the breakroom. Curtis wasn’t in there. “That’s odd,” she muttered and marched back out. “I’m going to talk to Mr. Dupree,” she announced and turned towards the stairs.

“Is Cook the Books in there?” Lance asked.

“No,” she said and ascended the stairs. She knocked on Mr. Dupree’s office door.

“Yes?” Mr. Dupree said.

“It’s Makenna.”

“Come in.”

Makenna entered his office and said, “Curtis isn’t here yet. Isn’t everyone supposed to be here by seven forty-five?”

“He’s still not here?”

“No.”

“I called Sheriff Bob a few minutes ago. He should be here soon.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dupree.” Makenna headed back down the stairs to the other accountants. “He hasn’t shown up today,” she announced.

“Maybe he got caught in traffic,” Irwin said.

“In this town? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Suddenly, the receptionist’s phone rang. All four accountants turned to look at each other.

“Should we answer it?” Grady asked.

Makenna rolled her eyes and sighed. She walked over and picked up the handset. “Hello?”

“Good morning, ma’am,” Sherrif Bob said.

Makenna turned on the speakerphone. “We’re all here except Curtis Cook,” Makenna told him.

“Alright. I’ll send a patrol car around to Mr. Cook’s place of residence to see if he’s home. He might be running late for work.”

“He lives in a duplex,” Lance said.

“I see. I’m calling it in right now. A patrol car will be there shortly.”

“Thanks,” Makenna said and hung up.

“Maybe Cook the Books is the kidnapper,” Lance said.

Makenna scoffed. “Don’t be stupid. Cook couldn’t plan a library fine.”

“Gunther,” Deputy Gunther heard over his police radio as he was on route to the Dupree Accounting Agency.

“Deputy Gunther here,” he said. “Over.”

“This is Sheriff Bob. I need you to take a swing by Curtis Cook’s house. Over.”

“That guy who lives in the duplex? Over.”

“Yeah, that guy. Would you drive by his place of residence and see if he’s still home? Over.”

“He’s not at the accounting office yet? Over.”

“Not yet. Over.”

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Over.” Gunther turned his prowler around and headed towards Curtis’s duplex.

When Deputy Gunther arrived, he didn’t see Curtis’s pale green Honda Accord parked in the driveway. He spotted Curtis’s neighbor Earl sitting outside his apartment wearing a blue terrycloth robe and sipping coffee. When Earl saw the officer marching up to him, his eyes widened, and he stopped mid sip.

“Curtis Cook?” Gunther asked.

“No, I’m his neighbor Earl.”

“Do you have identification?”

“Yes, sir.”

Earl reached over and grabbed his billfold off the mesh metal table beside his folding chair, removed his driver’s license and handed it to the deputy. The deputy glanced at it and handed it back to Earl.

“Did you see your neighbor Mr. Cook leave for work this morning?”

“Curtis leaves for work before I get up.”

“Did you hear Mr. Cook leave?”

“No. He’s usually very quiet. Even more so since his dog died.”

“When did his dog die?”

“Last Wednesday.”

“How did the dog die?”

“She escaped from the house when Curtis was at work. Some robbers broke in and Haven, that’s the dog, ran into the road.”

“Then there’s a record of it. What type of dog was it?”

“A Yorkie.”

“When was the last time you saw Mr. Cook?”

“Friday evening. He was leaving.”

“Do you know where he was going?”

“No.”

Deputy Gunther knocked on Curtis’s door. “Mr. Cook?” Nothing. He knocked again. “Mr. Cook?” Silence. Gunter peered around the side of the house. “Is there a way into the back yard?”

“You can follow the fence line. You’ll have to climb over.”

Deputy Gunter moved around the side of the house and expertly hoisted himself up and over the fence like an Olympic gymnast. He headed over to the bedroom window. He looked inside and saw Curtis’s bed was made and his laptop was sitting closed on the neat and orderly desk. By the bed was a photo of a small round fluffy Yorkshire Terrier puppy.

“Mr. Cook,” Gunther said rapping on the window.

No answer.

Deputy Gunther swung back over the fence and came around to the front. He strode over to the prowler and said into the radio, “Cook’s not at his place of residence. Over.”

“He’s still not arrived at the accounting agency either,” Sheriff Bob answered. “Over.”

“His neighbor says his dog was killed last Wednesday while he was at work. Over.”

“How was the dog killed? Over.”

“His house was broken into by thieves. The dog got loose during the robbery and was hit by a car. Over.”

“I wonder if that has something to do with his having gone missing. Let me talk to Dal and see what I can find out about Mr. Cook. Over.”

“I’ll head out to the Dupree Accounting Agency. Over.”

“See you there. Over.”

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: RUN LOLA RUN (1998)-AMAZON PRIME

Finally, finally, finally this fantastic film is available for streaming. Winner of the Sundance Audience Award in 1999 and nominated for the BAFTA for Best Film Not in the English Language in 2000, this highly imaginative brilliantly written and directed film by Tom Tykwer and edited by Mathilde Bonnefoyis is as fresh and exciting today as it was when it was released over twenty-five years ago. Not one second of this fast paced, edge of your seat, real-time time bending 80-minute masterpiece is dull.

The premise is simple and straightforward: Manni (Moritz Bleibtreu) has screwed up. He’s left a bag of 100,000 German francs on a subway train. A homeless man named Norbert von Au (Joachim Król) has taken it. Manni must come up with 100,000 German francs in the next twenty minutes or he will be forced to rob the grocery store near the payphone he is calling his girlfriend Lola (Franka Potente in a stellar performance) from. If Manni doesn’t deliver the money to the criminal it belongs to, he will most assuredly be killed. Lola, whose moped has been stolen, must come up with a way to get the cash and run to Manni to deliver it before he makes a fateful decision. Every choice Lola makes along the way decides not only Manni and her destiny but everyone else’s along the way.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Thirty-Four

~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter thirty-four of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. My novelist and I finally had the opportunity to attend the Nordstrom Anniversary Sale. She is much calmer presently which makes me much calmer. But now we must wait and see if the goodies she ordered online arrive and don’t sell out. The sale is legendary here in the pacific northwest and some of the items go quickly. We visited one of the stores in the morning with a couple of my novelist’s closest pack members. They gave us boxes of treats and water bottles and scratch cards for future discounts and lovely little canvas bags to put everything in. My novelist raved about all of it, especially the bag. She adored the bag. After perusing all the marvelous fall fashions, we had lunch at Nordstrom Grill. I must strongly suggest the French Onion Soup and the Lobster Bisque if you get a chance to visit. I enjoyed the baked bread. It was scrumptious. I was concerned my paws might start barking after all the perusing and trying on clothes and ogling baubles. But there are many very comfortable places to sit at the store, and I curled up on a couch outside the fitting rooms while my novelist and her pack tried on skirts and sweaters. Anyway, things are returning to normal, and I do not need to hide under the bed until next summer. And with that thought here is chapter thirty-four of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Enjoy!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Thirty-Four

Curtis screamed and stumbled backwards. There was nothing there to stop him and he fell on his flanks, kicking and trying to scramble to his feet. He pointed the flashlight back at the chair to find a life-size black bear lounging in it. His ears strained to hear the creature breathe. Silence. Curtis rose slowly to his feet and aimed the flashlight at the bear. He leaned forwards as he moved closer, his left arm stretched out for balance. Clearly this was an extraordinary and far too realistic full-size reproduction of the terrifying animal. He had been right about the leg of the beast draping over the arm of the chair. The bear wore an elaborate dress with sequins that caught the light. On its head was a tiara with glittering rhinestones.

Curtis searched his memory to see if he recalled his aunt owning this oversized piece of art. He decided it must be something she’d recently acquired as he could not recall it and he was certain he would have recalled it. There was a flicker to the left side of the chair and then a tiffany lamp with blue stained glass illuminated a dim glow.

He thought he heard something behind him and then someone grabbed his arm. He felt a silky fabric encircle his wrist and tighten securing a knot. The strange sensation of a feather moved slowly up the inside of his arm causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. He stood still trying to assess what was happening to him.

He felt a grip on his other wrist and then more silky material securing in place. A gentle weight on his right shoulder pressed him down to the floor. He sat with his hands tied behind him. Something slid slowly over his head. A mask of some sort. Then he was gazing out of two holes. He felt some sort of sash being tied at the back of his skull.

Slow strange music began to play. Cello, xylophone, maybe a piano. No drums. No driving beat. Just a melodic airy tune. The bear picked up the leg it had draped over the chair and crossed it over the other leg. Curtis thought he could see Fia at the side of the chair moving it. He leaned in and watched carefully.

The bear slowly tilted to the right, resting its head on its left paw. Curtis noticed something catch the light near the lamp. Soap bubbles began floating through the air. He seemed to remember his aunt having a bubble machine when he was very young and first started visiting her. 

He felt Fia move behind him again. He waited anxiously to find out what would happen next. The back of his neck tingled as she untied the mask, and it slipped down over his face. The giant bear still stared at him from its lackadaisical position. Suddenly, a knit material slipped over his face, and everything went black. He heard the movement of feet scurry away. His jagged breath was all he heard. Then a rattling sound of something metal caused his ears to perk. Fia’s arm linked under his and he scrambled to his feet and stumbled across the floor.

Fia stopped and picked up his right pant leg and lifted it over something and set his foot down. Then she did the same with his left. She led him a couple more steps then stopped. He felt her unlock her arm from his and he stood waiting. He heard her move away behind him, then returned and set something on the floor. Then she moved away again and swept back past him. As she did, he felt something soft brush past his arm. The life-size bear perhaps? She rushed past him again, then he heard a metallic clank and then silence. Curtis perked his ears. Nothing.  

Several minutes slipped by. Maybe even fifteen. He began to panic. “Fia?” he called out. No answer. “Fia?”

He took a cautious step forward then another. The toe of his shoe hit something. Metal jangled as if he’d kicked a chain length fence. He took a cautious step forward then another…the toe of his shoe hit something, and metal jangled as if he’d kicked a chain length fence. He moved over a little and kicked a second time and again struck a metal structure. A horrible feeling surged through him. He fought with the silk ties on his wrists to no avail. He turned and tried to judge the metal barrier in front of him. He moved along it and it appeared to curve.

He stepped into the barrier and leaned his head against it. He rubbed his head against the surface working the knitted item off his head. After a few minutes of maneuvering, he managed to work what turned out to be a winter tunic off his head. His eyes focused and examined his trap. A large bird cage, he surmised. Some sort of oversized art piece Aunt Odette must have acquired at some point, he surmised.

“Fia!” he called. He looked towards the attic door where light was flooding in from the hall. It was clear to him she had escaped.

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 AUTOMAT (2021)-HBO MAX

This week’s pick is a fantastic historical documentary about an eatery chain called The Automat. The documentary does a fine seamless job of interviewing different well-known patrons of the establishment such as Mel Brooks, Carl Reiner, and Ruth Bader Ginsberg and historians and former workers of the company including Norris Horn the great nephew of one of the founders of the famed restaurant while interspersing photos both inside and outside of the different restaurant’s locations. If you are not familiar with The Automat in New York City also known as Horn + Hardart in Philadelphia, it was an ingenious restaurant where you could purchase food by putting nickels into slots which allowed you to open a brass framed glass door and select an item such as a slice of pie, creamed spinach, potatoes, an entrée, etc. You could even purchase a cup of French press coffee. The concept was so brilliant that Howard Shultz, founder of Starbucks borrowed some of their elements to create his famous coffee chain. The idea was anyone could come into this elegant cafeteria and have a meal. It is not fast food but rather superb food fast.

This is an entertaining piece of filmmaking well-written by Michael Levine and well-directed by Lisa Hurwitz. Kudos also to Russell Green and Michael Levine for their outstanding editing work. The Automat is an absolute joy to watch. And a bit of an anomaly amongst some of the other types of documentaries out there. I highly recommend it.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Thirty-Three

~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon and Happy 4th of July! Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter thirty-three of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Today I am housebound. We do not go for walks around this auspicious holiday. We could run into explosives. One time my novelist took a walk on the morning of the 5th of July and had a firecracker thrown at her and her previous dog, who I might add was a poodle mix. But that is another story. Anyway, that was back in the days before I was born when the neighbor across the street happened to be a “chemist” who had visitors in and out of his abode at all times of the day. The individual who threw the firecracker at my novelist and her poodle mix was one of the “chemist’s” visitors. One night, I was told, the “chemist” made a faux pas and there was an explosion. The neighbors next door had had enough of his shenanigans and called the police who were greeted by the “chemist’s” effervescent pit bull. The pit bull, however, was no match for the officers. Much was recovered from the house including a baseball bat likely not used for sport and a plethora of paraphernalia. The officers then kindly fitted the “chemist” with a pair of lovely silver toned handcuffs and escorted him into the prowler. And after that night the “chemist” and his pit bull were never heard from again. And with that thought, here is Chapter Thirty-Three of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Have a safe and delightful holiday.  

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Thirty-Three

Fia stepped out of the attic and headed down the hall with Curtis following behind. She gently patted her pocket to make sure she had the flashlight and then continued forwards. When they reached the bathroom, she nonchalantly slipped inside and after a moment she turned on the water and slowly, quietly opened the window. She drew the flashlight out of her pocket. She carefully stuck the light outside and flashed SOS. She hoped one of these times soon someone would see her signal. After a minute she shut off the flashlight, finished cleaning up and opened the door.

“Feel better?” Curtis asked.

“Much,” she said stepping into the hall.

They headed back down the hall to the attic. Fia opened the door and went inside.

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Curtis told her.

“I’ll be waiting.”

He locked the door and headed downstairs. He noticed his father had switched from sitting on the bookcase chair to the lip couch and had a quizzical look on his face. “Are you ready to leave?” his father asked.

“Yes, I got the photograph. It was in her steamer trunk. Let’s go.”

Mr. Cook rose slowly, and he and his son left the cabin. As they drove around the lake and headed out towards the main drag, Mr. Cook said, “I’m glad your Aunt Odette kept that photo locked in the steamer trunk.”

“It wasn’t locked.”

An uncomfortable look crossed Mr. Cook’s face. “Odette’s getting a Master Lock for her birthday,” he said. As they closed in on the mall, Mr. Cook got into the right-hand turning lane.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to the mall.”

“Why?”

“I want to see if that guy from the sports store is working and ask him about the college woman who’s missing.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Of course it’s my business. It’s the whole community’s business.”

“He’ll suspect you.”

“No, he won’t. I look like a dad.”

“I need to get back home and work. I’ve already gone out to lunch with you and out to the cabin and picked up this photograph which is both humbling and horrifying. I mean it’s halfway to kiddie porn. Please just take me home so I can do other people’s taxes.”

“Too late. I’m turning.”

Mr. Cook drove into the mall and parked his car near the entrance Curtis and Fia had used. He shut off the engine and said, “You need to take more stock in your community, son. When a local college student comes home for spring break and goes missing, that’s a serious thing.”

Curtis opened his mouth to say something and shut it again. Mr. Cook disembarked the car and headed inside.

Twenty minutes later Mr. Cook returned to the car. He had been gone nearly half an hour before Curtis saw the door to the department store open and his father exit.

“That was interesting,” Mr. Cook said when he got back in the car. “Sounds like that guy who was last seen with the girl could have been anyone. The way he described him he could have been you.”

“Really?” Curtis said, feeling a shock run through his system.

“Just an ordinary young man in his 20’s. That’s what makes the whole thing so creepy. Just an ordinary average guy.”

Mr. Cook started the car and drove towards the exit on route to Curtis’s condo. Curtis exhaled suddenly realizing he’d been holding his breath.

Curtis returned to the cabin around seven. He’d picked up some salmon from the grocery store. It was Copper River salmon, but it was frozen as the season wouldn’t start till June. He figured he’d bake it with some broccoli and oven fried golden potatoes. He’d also gotten a couple cupcakes from the bakery right before they closed and set them in the refrigerator. He removed a pan from under the oven and set it on the stove. Then he headed up the stairs to check on Fia.

“I’m back,” Curtis said knocking on the attic door. He heard her shuffling around inside. He unlocked the door and opened it. He was surprised to find the place set up like a black box theatre. Everything had been moved to the sides and all that was in the center was a tall velvet backed wooden chair and a table.

“What do you think?” Fia asked stepping up to him.

“It looks like a black box theatre. Must have taken you most of the afternoon to move all this stuff.”

“Most.”

“I was going to make us dinner…”

“Why don’t we have a late dinner?”

“Aren’t you hungry?”

“Not really. Besides, I work better on an empty stomach.”

“When does the theatre open?”

“Eight.”

“Alright. I’ll finish putting away the groceries.”

“May I use the bathroom?”

“Sure.”

Fia headed out the door and Curtis followed her down the hall. As he waited outside, she stuck her flashlight out the window and shined her SOS signal again several times hoping there was someone out there who would notice. Then she went about cleaning up and running the water. She exited the bathroom, and they headed back down the hall to the attic. After Curtis locked the attic door and headed back downstairs, Fia moved over to the wardrobe, took out the clothes and shoes she was going to wear and started to put them on.

At eight o’clock sharp Curtis ascended the stairs and knocked on the attic door. “I’m back,” he said. Fia did not respond. “Are you ready to perform?” Still no answer. He knocked once more. “Fia,” he called. Nothing. Concerned, Curtis slipped the key into the lock and opened the door.

The lights were off, and the room was pitch black. “Fia,” he said again with less confidence. He crept forwards until he could make out the outline of the wood and velvet chair. He thought he saw Fia’s leg dangling over the upholstered wood arm. He moved stealthily around to the front.

Suddenly, a flashlight rolled across the floor, startling him. The light stopped, tapping at the toes of his shoes. He picked it up, turned it on and pointed it at the front of the chair. He jumped. What he saw sitting there was not Fia. 

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: HOOSIERS (1986) TUBI, ROKU, PLUTO

One of the most outstanding sports movies ever made and one of my all-time favorites is this absolute must see film about redemption. And yes, it’s streaming on Tubi. Coach Norman Dale (Gene Hackman), a renowned college basketball coach with a secret past has been invited by his longtime friend Principal Cletus Summers (Sheb Wooley) to come to the small rural town of Hickory, Indiana to become the high school’s civics and history teacher and the new head coach. The team’s star player Jimmy Chitwood (Maris Valainis) has abandoned the team after the death of the former coach.

On his way up to the office on his first day, Norman runs into fellow teacher Myra Fleener (Barbara Hershey) who is not a basketball fan and strongly encourages him not to coax Jimmy to return to the team. Her reasoning is Jimmy has a chance of leaving Hickory and heading to college if he focuses on his studies. Coach Dale finds the only boys on the team are a handful of ragtag misfits. While Norman begins to train the rag-tag team he comes across a lot of resistance from the men of the town who do not like his training style. However, Norman finds that the town drunk Shooter Flatch (Dennis Hopper), father of one of the players named Everett (David Neidorf) is highly knowledgeable about the game and may be the key to the team’s future.

The film was superbly directed by David Anspaugh (his first major motion picture) and the basketball scenes are riveting. The acting by all the leads is superb. Dennis Hopper was rightly nominated for an Oscar for Best Supporting Actor as was the fantastic Original Score by Jerry Goldsmith. Why Gene Hackman wasn’t nominated for his outstanding landmark performance is one of the most unforgivable snubs in Oscar history.  

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Thirty-Two

~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter thirty-two of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. Today I am writing to you from under my novelist’s bed. I am hiding you see because the most terrifying phenomenon of all the pacific northwest is happening today. Forget vampires. Forget serial killers. Forget Starbucks Coffee. The Nordstrom Anniversary Sale catalogue just dropped today. My novelist has been online since this morning ogling over all the new merchandise. It is monstrous. Sane people everywhere up and down the upper west coast are cowering as hordes of Nordstrom fanatics stampede towards laptops, smart phones, tablets and yes, desktop and start making out their wish lists. I must suffer the entire month of July as my novelist takes note after note, wringing her hands trying to narrow down her beloved list to fit her budget. Her eyes grow wide and bloodshot. Her hands quiver inexplicably. Her credit card trembles. And all I can do is cower and watch as the pandemonium grows more and more out of control. Oh, no! I think she just clicked on something. Pray for me. And with that thought here is chapter thirty-two of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Enjoy…and stay safe.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Thirty-Two

Curtis hurried up the stairs to the attic and unlocked the door.

“Don’t you knock?” Fia said when he burst inside.

“I need to get something,” Curtis said.

“How’d it go with your dad?”

Curtis hurried over to the steamer trunk and flipped up the large brass latches. He rummaged around inside desperate to find the photograph and leave.

“What are you looking for?”

“Something for my dad.”

“What is it?”

“An art thing.”

“I thought you got all the paintings.”

“I did. But now he wants this photograph too.”

“You drove all the way back here for a photograph?”

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“Is it valuable.”

“No. It won a competition.”

“Can I see it?”

“No.”

Curtis reached inside and took out a black rectangular box. He opened the lid to find both the framed photo and the award. He quickly put the lid back on the box and closed the chest.

“Is that you?” Fia asked.

“Is what me?”

“Is that a photograph of you?”

“It’s a picture my aunt took of me when I was a kid.”

“Can I see it?”

“I’m in a hurry.”

Curtis stuck the box under his arm and rushed towards the door. Fia cut him off at the pass.

“Why are in such a hurry?”

“My dad needs this.”

“I thought you wouldn’t be back for four hours.”

“Change of plans.”

“Where’s your dad?”

“Waiting for me to bring him the picture. Now get out of the way.”

“Waiting where?”

“I want to see the photograph.”

“Not showing you the photograph.”

“Why?”

Curtis tried to push Fia aside, but she held her ground.

“I’ll scream.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll bet you a million dollars you dad will hear me. Now, show me the photo.”

“It’s not my photo to show.”

“But you’re the subject of the photo.”

“That does not make it mine.”

Fia started to scream. Curtis clamped his hand over her mouth. Fia pointed to the rectangular box.

“Is everything okay up there, Curt?” Mr. Cook called from the living room.

“I just saw the squirrel,” Curtis yelled as he glared at Fia.

“Squirrel?” Fia mouthed.

“Your need me to come up there and help?” Mr. Cook yelled.

“No,” Curtis yelled back. “She’s in the trap now.”

“How do you know it’s a she?”

“I got a good look at her.” Curtis whirled Fia around and dragged her to the table and chairs. “Listen up,” he told her. “If you scream again your actions will have consequences.”

“You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

“But I didn’t say I wouldn’t hurt your mom or your dad or your family business.”

Fia studied him for a moment. She was ninety percent certain this was an empty threat. “Just show me the photo, Curtis.” Curtis slapped the rectangular box down on the table. He lifted the lid slowly and set it aside. Fia peered into the box. She took a long look at the photo. “You’re naked,” she said.

“Aunt Odette was into nudes then. She was going through her nude period.”

“You’re like what, six here?”

“Seven. Look, I’ve got to get this to my dad.”

“I hope he likes it…I guess.”

“I just hope he doesn’t post it on the internet.”

“Did you find it?” Mr. Cook called from the living room.

“I’ve got it dad!” Then he turned to Fia and said, “Good luck with your performance art piece.”

“Good luck with your…nude.”

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: LOLITA (1962)-TUBI

In resuming my hunt for great films on Tubi (and there is a surprising number of them) is Stanley Kubrick’s classic comic tragedy based on the masterpiece book Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, one of my favorite novels. The film’s droll and disturbing screenplay was also written by Nabokov. Filmed in glorious black and white with subtext aplenty, it is one of the several brilliant, twisted tales from Kubrick’s genius body of work. Be forewarned: this is not your normal story, and the subject matter is profoundly provocative.  

An astute French Literature professor named Humbert Humbert (the always fantastic James Mason) needs a place to stay for the summer before his professorship begins at Beardsley College, Ohio. He finds himself looking at a room at the home of Charlotte Haze (Shelly Winters). He’s not so sure he wants to live in the house of this emotionally unstable woman until he goes into the back yard to look at the garden and sees Charlotte’s incredibly beautiful barely teenage daughter Dolores (Sue Lyon in her spectacular debut performance) lit on the grass. But what the monstrous Professor Humbert doesn’t know is he had a predecessor: Mrs. Haze’s short-time boyfriend, the even more vile and sleezy playwright Clare Quilty (Peter Sellers).

This is one of the many fantastic films Tubi managed to have on its streaming channel leaving in a few short days so be sure to check it out soon. If you ever want to read Nabokov’s darker and more disturbing predecessor to Lolita, check out Laughter in the Dark. One might also note the name Dolores means “sorrow”.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Thirty-One

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Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter thirty-one of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week my novelist found my beloved weasel. I have not seen this toy in a very long time. I have been keeping this treasure close to me. I carry it around in my mouth, curl up with it when I sleep, and adore it wherever I go. For quite a while my novelist seemed to think I was not a Canis lupus familiaris who liked toys. She is sadly mistaken. I love my toys. But especially my beloved stuffed weasel which I adore with all my heart. Its head even squeaks. I love the squeak. It is something I can truly call my own. My novelist originally took my weasel away because I would bait the Maltese by setting it out for him to find and then attack. Ah, the good old days. But now that my weasel is back in my possession, the sun is brighter, the air is sweeter, and my world is better. May you too find the lost toy you so long to embrace. And with that thought here is chapter thirty-one of Certified Sadistic Accountant. J’adore les jouets!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Thirty-One

Curtis sat in his dad’s silver Honda CR-V LX wringing his hands and clenching his jaw. He knew he couldn’t sit there forever with his dad wondering why he hadn’t returned. But he was certain if he went back inside the sports bar the tall guy with the baseball hat who was already describing him to the deputy would peg him instantly.

Curtis caught something out of the corner of his eye and turned to see his father standing outside the window with a to-go bag in his hand and a perplexed look on his face. Mr. Cook walked around to the driver’s side door and climbed inside.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asked Curtis. “You said you had to go get something and the next thing I know thirty minutes have gone by.”

“I couldn’t find what I was looking for,” Curtis said.

“I had the bartender pack up your meal and I left her a generous tip.”

“Thank you.”

“Are you sick or something?”

“No.”

“Because you look sick or something.”

“I’m not sick or something.”

“What did you come out to the car to get?”

“You know whatever it is Aunt Odette wanted you to have I can get it for you. You don’t have to drive out to the cabin today.”

Mr. Cook narrowed his eyes. “We’re driving out to the cabin,” he said and started the car.

Curtis sat stiffly in the passenger’s seat, his mind racing. Stay calm, he told himself, just be cool. She’s locked in the attic. If dad stays downstairs everything will be okay. He could retrieve whatever Aunt Odette wanted to give his dad and get out. No one would be the wiser.

“I like driving around here on Sundays,” Mr. Cook said. “Less traffic.” He glanced at his son and then back at the road. They drove over the river and continued north towards the mall. “I overheard that deputy ask that guy about a kidnapped college student. Have you heard about this?”

“Maybe.”

“Apparently this guy works at a sports memorabilia store at the mall and saw her come in with a guy around the same age.”

“Interesting.”

“I mean you get robbed and then this college woman disappears. What’s going on in this town?”

“The world’s getting more dangerous, I guess.”

“Have you thought about moving back in with us?”

“No.”

“It would be cheaper for you.”

“It would be a longer drive to work.”

“What if thieves break into your house again? What if you’re home? They’ve already done it once and gotten away with it. What’s to stop them from doing it again?”

“They will never do it again,” Curtis said defiantly.

“You could boarder with your Aunt Odette.”

“No.”

“Her place is big enough for the two of you.”

“She doesn’t want me to live there and I don’t want to live there.”

“It would be closer to work.”

“It would be a lousy drive in the winter.”

“Your aunt does it.”

“That’s because she’s crazy.”

“She’s not crazy she’s eccentric.” The Honda passed the mall and stopped at the intersection. The light turned green, Mr. Cook hung a right, and they headed for the lake. “This shouldn’t take long.”

“Let’s hope not,” Curtis grumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Curtis looked out the window at the lake. He was certain his dad wouldn’t hear Fia in the attic if he kept him downstairs. But he’d have to keep him downstairs. 

Mr. Cook turned into Aunt Odette’s driveway and parked the car. Curtis looked up at the top floor of the cabin where Fia was working on her art piece. The two men disembarked the Honda and headed towards the cabin.

“I see your aunt still has that lip couch,” Mr. Cook said when they stepped inside. “Do you know how expensive that thing is? She told me she’s going to buy a yellow one for the master bedroom. This is what happens when an art student goes to New York and sees things she can’t afford. She ends up buying them. I still like this bookcase chair though. At least it’s pragmatic. You can enjoy the aesthetics of the chair and grab a book to read at the same time.”

“What was it Aunt Odette wanted you to have?” Curtis said impatiently.

“It’s a photograph she took of you as a child. Apparently, she entered it in a competition recently and won. So, she took the picture and the award and stored them in the attic.”

“The attic?”

“Yeah, I’ll just run up and get it.”

“You can’t!”

“Why not?”

“There’s…a squirrel up there.”

“A squirrel?”

“I saw a squirrel in the attic when I went up to get the coverings for the paintings. So, I got a trap and set it up there.”

“Let’s go up and see if you caught it,” Mr. Cook said and headed for the stairs.

“No,” Curtis said blocking him. “If…if I didn’t catch it, it might escape and run roughshod all over Aunt Odette’s cabin.”

“She’s got a lot of art in the attic so she’s not going to be happy about it running roughshod up there either.”

“And I have a profound fear of squirrels.”

“A profound fear? Not just a run of the mill fear?”

“They freak me out with their bushy tail and that scratching noise they make when they run up trees.”

Mr. Cook looked at his son with concern. “Be that as it may I still need to get that photograph.”

“Just let me go up and get it.”

“With your profound fear of squirrels?”

“But…but this way I could see if I caught the little critter.”

“You’re not making any sense, Curt. I’m concerned about you. You’ve been acting strange all day.”

“I just really need to get back to my taxes, dad.”

“Maybe you need to change occupations.”

“Just wait down here. I’ll go check on the squirrel and get the picture.”

Mr. Cook shook his head. “Fine,” he said and plopped down in the bookcase chair.

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 RIGHTEOUS GEMSTONES (2019)-HBO MAX

This week’s pick is a hilarious raunchy show that was recommended to me by a family member. If you are looking for something fantastic to binge watch over the summer, here it is. Created by Danny McBride along with a fantastic cast including John Goodman, it’s both a send up and a lampooning of American mega churches. Be forewarned, the first episode has a dark ending but don’t let that throw you. Keep watching this sleeper because it just gets better and better. It’s one of those comedies that should be reeling in wheelbarrow loads of Emmy nominations but for some inexplicably bizarre reason it is not. What is wrong with Hollywood? Has that become a rhetorical question?

Dr. Eli Gemstone (John Goodman) patriarch of the Gemstone family has recently lost his beloved wife and the light of the family Aimee-Leigh Gemstone (Jennifer Nettles) and must face the future of the Gemstone mega church with his three adult children Jesse (Danny McBride), Judy (Edi Patterson) and Kelvin (Adam Devine). All these kids have seriously disturbing issues and handle situations abominably, but Jesse especially has gotten himself into some hot water. His oldest son Gideon (Skyler Gisondo) has run away from home, much to the dismay of his wife Amber (Cassidy Freeman), and a blackmailer named Scotty (the always funny Scott MacArthur) is threatening to release an explicit video of Jesse and his church buddies which will surely go viral and threaten the Gemstone name. Also, Eli’s get rich quick brother-in-law Uncle Baby Billy (Walton Goggins) wants to get back into the family business and is willing to use every trick in the book to do so. This show is an absolute must see.  

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Thirty

~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter thirty of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week I have been dealing with insomnia. I love the longer days we get this time of year, but I find it difficult to sleep past 5 AM. I will wake up from a pleasant slumber to find the morning sun shining in my face and I simply must rise. I of course make my novelist rise with me so she will not miss the beauty of the morning. This seems to raise her ire, but if I cannot sleep well then neither can she. Bernard D. Bunny is usually up also, partaking of his morning breakfast. I prefer to use grass for medicinal purposes but to each his own. My novelist has a pot with a strawberry plant which she purchased a year ago in spring. I was delighted to find it is bearing fruit again this year. I have told Bernard the strawberries are specifically for my novelist and me and he seems to be okay with that. I have, however, noticed Sergio Z. Squirrel eyeing them. Squirrels can be a bit wily as you know. I do think he will stick to his usual nuts especially since I have given him that “I will chase you” look. That seems to put him in his place. Ah, the glory of the oncoming summer. And with that thought here is chapter thirty of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Profitez du soleil!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Thirty

Curtis watched his dad park his silver Honda CR-V LX in the driveway. Aunt Odette’s paintings lay tilted against the bench of the breakfast nook fully packed and ready to go. Mr. Cook locked the car, strode up to the porch, and rang the bell. Curtis rose from the bench reminding himself to remain calm and act normally.

“Hi, dad,” Curtis said when he opened the door.

“How are you doing, son,” his dad said and gave Curtis a pat on the back.

“Can I get you some coffee?”

“Oh, no, no. I already had two cups this morning.”

“I collected the paintings from the cabin,” Curtis said moving over to the breakfast nook and pointing.

“Thanks, son. But we’re still going to have to drive out to the cabin.”

“Why?”

“I was chatting with your aunt on the phone yesterday and we got to talking about this and that and there was something she wanted me to have.”

“I thought the whole point was for me to drive out to the cabin and get the paintings for you.”

“Initially, but now I need to go to the cabin.”

Curtis’s stomach tightened. “Let’s get the paintings into your car,” he said and headed towards the breakfast nook.

“Don’t you want to go to Deep League and get some lunch?”

“Yeah, but…”

“Let’s go.”

Mr. Cook parked his Honda CR-VLX in the back parking lot of Deep League. Curtis followed his dad to the front of the building where they headed inside and grabbed a table. He looked out the window thinking he was trapped in a fishbowl. The buxom bartender with the size too small t-shirt sauntered over to them and set down two laminated menus.

“Can I get you boys something to drink?” she asked in a whiskey voice.

“I would like a Coke,” Mr. Cook said.

“I’ll have green tea,” Curtis said.

“We only have black tea,” the bartender said.

“Black tea then. Lots of cream, lots of sugar.”

“You’ve got it. Be right back with your drinks.”

The bar tender left, and Curtis’s dad said, “So, you’ve been busy.”

“Well, it’s Tax Season, so…”

“More clients this year?”

“A few, but most of them are our core clientele.”

“Do you still like working there?”

“I’d like to get a job in the city.”

“So, you don’t like working there. Say, I didn’t see Haven today.”

Curtis sighed and traced the table with his finger. “Haven died.”

Shock spread across Mr. Cook’s face. “What?”

“She ran out of the house while I was at work and got hit by a delivery truck.”

“Oh, Curt, I’m so sorry. I know you loved that dog.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Don’t let it get to you. We all make mistakes.”

“Mistakes?”

“Like leaving the gate open…”

“I didn’t leave the gate open, nor the window, nor the door. Thieves broke into my apartment and tried to steal Haven.”

“You were robbed?”

“Yes.”

“I thought this was a safe small-town.”

“It is a safe small-town. But even safe small towns can have sadistic people residing in them.”

“Did they take anything?”

“They killed Haven.”

“Next week we’re going to find you a new dog.”

“You’re missing the point.”

“The point is you need to move on, son. When you were a kid, you’d get too attached to…”

“Here we go,” the bartender said returning. She set down Mr. Cook’s fizzy Coke and Curtis’s black tea along with a monkey dish of creamers and a container of sugar and sweetener packets. “Are you boys ready to order?”

“Curt?” Mr. Cook said. “You ready?”

“I’ll have a burger and fries,” Curtis said.

“I’ll have the same.”

“Sounds good,” the bartender said as she took the menus from them. “I’ll go get those started for you.”

As she headed back to the kitchen the main door opened and in moseyed Sheriff Bob and Deputy Gunther. They ambled over to the bar and Sheriff Bob leaned into the counter. He folded his hands and looked into the large mirror with the letters SRB, a local microbrew company, emblazoned across a mountain range. Curits put one hand up to shield his face and turned his head slightly to the side. The Sheriff’s reflection seemed to be looking directly at him. His heart pounded as the spiky blonde-haired deputy leaned his back into the bar and scanned the room.

“You suppose those two policemen get free beer when they come in here?” Mr. Cook asked.

“I don’t think officers are supposed to drink while they’re on duty,” Curtis said.

“Maybe they get free sandwiches,” Mr. Cook said and focused his attention on the ballgame playing on the flatscreen television behind Curtis.

The front door opened and a tall athletic-looking guy with a baseball cap on his head moseyed over to a table near the bar. He sat down, pulled the basket of peanuts near him, reached in and started shelling the legumes and popping them in his mouth. The deputy turned his head in the direction of the guy. He pushed off the bar, walked over, pulled out the chair on the opposite side of the athletic guy’s table and took a seat. As Curtis watched them talk, he started to think the athletic guy looked familiar. 

Just then the bartender set a bottle of ketchup and a bottle of mustard down on the Cooks’ table causing Curtis to jump.

“Your guys’ burgers should be up in a minute,” she said.

“Sounds great,” Mr. Cook replied.

“I’ll bring some extra napkins.”

The bartender returned to the bar and leaned into Sherrif Bob like they were old friends. Suddenly, the sheriff straightened up. He put one hand on his hip leaving the other flat on the bar.

Curtis noticed the deputy was taking notes. He suspected he may be asking the tall guy with the baseball cap questions about Fia.

“Homerun!” Curtis’s father shouted causing Curtis to jump and blanch white.

The sheriff turned his attention in their direction. Then he looked up at one of the other televisions and saw the hitter rounding the bases. Curtis stole another glance at the table with the deputy and the tall guy. Suddenly, it struck him. The tall guy was the clerk who’d helped Fia and him at the sports store at the mall.

“Two hamburgers with fries,” the bartender said and set down Mr. Cooks plate and then Curtis’s. “Anything else I can get you guys?”

“No, this is great,” Mr. Cook said.

“I’ll come back in a little bit and check on you,” she said and left.

“This looks delicious,” Mr. Cook said. “Doesn’t it, Curtis?”

“I need to get something from the car,” Curtis said.

“Can’t it wait? We just got our food.”

“No,” he said and stood up keeping his back to the table with the deputy and the guy from the mall. He cautiously and nonchalantly headed towards the door and left.

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: OH, GOD! (1977)-TUBI

Here is another great gem of a movie streaming on Tubi. Directed by Carl Reiner and starring the ever-droll George Burns, this smart, charming, thoughtful little tale asks the question what if God came down to earth and anointed someone to be His messenger in the modern world? Based on the book by Avery Corman who also wrote Kramer vs. Kramer, the movie is surprisingly funny and philosophical with a marvelously serendipitous first-time performance by John Denver.  

Jerry Landers (John Denver) is your average young family man. He works as an assistant manager at a grocery store in Burbank, California. He is great with the customers and his staff. He is also an atheist. One day when his wife Bobbie Landers (Teri Garr) hands him the mail in bed, Jerry finds he has a letter with no stamp and no return address which simply says, “God grants you an interveiw. Go to 600 Madison Ave., room 2700, Monday, at 11 a.m.” And yes, the word interview is spelled incorrectly. Both Jerry and Bobbie think it’s a gag and likely a stunt pulled by their mutual friend Artie Coogan. Except Artie is an English teacher and wouldn’t misspell the word interview. Jerry wads up the letter and tosses it in the wastebasket by the bed. He wakes up in the middle of the night to find the letter unwrinkled and lying on his pillow. Confused, he tears it up and tosses it back in the wastebasket.

The next day Jerry goes to work to meet with the district produce manager Mr. McCarthy (David Ogden Stiers) only to find the letter untorn and folded neatly in a head of romaine. At that point, Jerry decides to take the interview. When he reaches the 27th floor of 600 Madison Ave. and enters room 2700 he finds the place completely white with a white chair and a white table. And that’s when he hears the voice of God (George Burns) coming over a white intercom. God tells Jerry he’s chosen him to tell people he exists and to spread the word.

Larry Gelbart was rightly nominated for an Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay for this marvelous gem which also stars Ralph Bellamy, Donald Pleasance, Barnard Hughes, and Paul Sorvino who’s deliciously evil as Reverand Willie Williams.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Twenty-Nine

~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good morning. Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter twenty-nine of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. For my birthday I was given a brand-new collar from my novelist. Alas, though it was quite lovely, comfortable and sturdy, it was too large. Even in the company’s smallest size. It was a bit too wide and quite long. And so, my novelist tried purchasing a second collar from a different company. Alas, though that one wasn’t too wide it too was too long, even in an extra small. My novelist decided to order a third collar from the same company my present collar is from. It will not be here till next week. I am crossing my paws. Apparently, my physique is along the lines of Twiggy or Kate Moss. I am petite and 20th century catwalk slim.

In the meantime, my novelist thought it would be a brilliant idea to present me with a trip to the groomers. Let me tell you, that is not a gift. Never give a dog a trip to the groomers and call it a gift. That is just plain cruel. Even if the dog was found on the streets, dirty, starved and exhausted, a trip to the groomers is not a gift. Ever. A collar with a lovely name tag is a gift. A chew toy is a gift. A new dog bed is a gift. Even, and I say this with great caution, a sweater is a gift. A trip to the groomers is not a gift. No dog ever discusses the horrors that go on at the groomers in polite company. It is enough to give any Canis lupus familiaris nightmares for weeks. I suppose it is pragmatic for the summer weather, but it is still a dirty rotten excuse for a birthday gift. That third collar better be good. And with that here is chapter twenty-nine of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Bon Appetit!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Hello?”

“Curtis?”

“Dad?”

“Glad I caught you. I was just on the phone with your Aunt Odette, and she told me she’s going to need those paintings sooner.”

Curtis furrowed his brow. “How soon?”

“I thought I could swing by your place tomorrow around noon and we could drive out to the cabin to pick them up.”

Curtis’s heart rate surged. “Well, I…well, I…am busy with Tax Day, dad. And it’s…see, it’s kind of hard for me to switch days.”

“I’m sorry to put you on the spot like this, Curt, but she needs them by Monday.”

Curtis made a fist with his hand, bared his teeth and shook it. “Why does she need them Monday?”

“From what I understand they had to change the days of the auction. One of the artists who is contributing some of his paintings is going on a retreat and he asked they change the dates.”

“Does this guy wield that much power?”

“He’s become quite fashionable in certain circles.”

Curtis grabbed his hair and squatted down. “I guess you could drop by my place at noon.”

“Fantastic, Curt. I appreciate it. I’ll see you at noon on Sunday.”

“See you at noon.”

Curtis hung up and sighed angrily. If it wasn’t one thing it was another. He’d finally figured out how to deliver the ransom note with the demands and suddenly his aunt needed her stupid paintings by Monday.

“What was that about?” Fia asked who was sitting at the small table in the attic nursing a cup of tea.

“I need to go meet my dad at my apartment tomorrow. I’m going to take the paintings over there…it’ll give you some time to work on your project in the attic.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“Three maybe four hours. My dad will want to go to Deep League.”

“Bexley and I went there the night before you abducted me.”

“Really?”

“We each had a drink and then played foosball for about a half an hour.”

“Did you and Bexley get hit on?”

“Why do you think we got hit on?”

“I know the place.”

“You make it sound like a hook-up bar.”

“It is a hook-up bar.”

Fia studied his face and grinned. “Maybe.”

“Uh, huh. Anyway, my dad likes the food there and the ball game will be on, and he’ll want to go and sit and chat with me over a burger and fries. The whole thing will take about four hours.” Curtis got up from the bookcase chair and headed into the kitchen where he set his empty cup of tea in the sink.

“By the time you return I’ll probably be finished rehearsing my performance piece. I could show it to you tonight.”

“That sounds fun,” Curtis said happy to have something to look forward to.

“Tell your dad hi.”

“I can’t do that.”

“I was kidding.”

Curtis grimaced. “You want to watch a movie or something while I’m gone? My aunt has never had cable TV. She might have some old VHS tapes up here.”

“VHS?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“No. It’s just…so antique.”

“Antiquated things can be charming.”

“True.”

“Let me see what she has,” Curtis said and walked over to the cabinet the old television was sitting on and opened the door. “12 Angry Men, Lolita, The Maltese Falcon, Bullitt, The Music Man, Strangers on a Train, The Graduate, Wait Until Dark, and Scarface.”

“Interesting collection.”

“She has some others here she got for me when I was a kid: Garfield and Friends, Tom and Jerry, and The Smurfs.”

“So, that’s why you kidnapped me. You watched The Smurfs as a child.”

“I happen to like The Smurfs. She also has Tweety’s High Flying Adventure.”

“Put in Tweety. I’ll watch that…four hours, huh?”

“More or less.”

“How come your aunt never acquired a DVD player?”

“She didn’t even want to get the VHS player. But she reluctantly bought one when my parents asked her to babysit me from time to time.”

“I guess that explains why she doesn’t have a lot of movies in her collection.”

“That and most movies these days don’t get released on VHS,” Curtis said and slid the Tweety tape into the player. “I will see you in a few hours. Enjoy your movie…”

“Before you go could I please use the bathroom?”

“Sure.”

Curtis walked over to the door and held it open for her. Fia got up and headed over. She stepped out of the attic, and he followed her down the hall to the guest bathroom. Fia headed inside and Curtis waited outside. Fia turned on the fan and crept over to the window. She opened it slowly and carefully set the flashlight on the ledge and flashed the SOS signal. She wasn’t sure anyone would see it in the daylight, but she figured if she flashed SOS a dozen times whenever she was able to get to the bathroom, somehow someone might see it.

After she finished sending the signal she flushed the toilet, turned on the faucet and let the water run for a moment before opening the door. “Have a good time with your dad,” she said.

“I will. I look forward to your performance tonight.”

As they headed back to the attic, Fia brimmed with elation. She had succeeded in sending her first signal. Now there was hope.

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: LONESTAR (1996)-TUBI & ROKU

Continuing my quest to find outstanding movies on Tubi, I am recommending this brilliant must-see mystery considered by many, including myself, to be John Sayles’s masterpiece. Sayles also brilliantly directed and edited the film. When I look at most of the Oscar nominated scripts in recent years, they are almost laughable compared to Sayles’s writing here. And be forewarned, this is not a movie you can watch while playing on your phone. This story requires careful attention. It is loaded with parallels, social commentary, subtext and surprise. Especially the last two scenes. If you don’t understand what happened when the credits roll, you have cheated yourself out of a fantastic nail-on understated ending.

The story starts out with two off-duty military officers out in the desert on an old U.S. Army rifle shooting range near a small boarder town called Frontera, Texas. One is a cactus aficionado and the other likes to find old bullets to craft his art. While hunting for their respective treasures they find a skeleton, a Mason Ring and a rusty Sherrif’s badge. They call in the new local sheriff Sam Deeds (Chris Cooper) to investigate. Sam was asked by the local heads of the town to take over as sheriff after his father Buddy Deeds (Mathew McConnaughey) passed away. Sam, though somewhat reluctant to be sheriff, has an ulterior motive for returning to Frontera, a local schoolteacher named Pilar (Elizabeth Peña) whom he grew up with.

The shooting range findings are quickly determined to be a homicide by the Texas Rangers and both the Rangers and Sam agree the skeleton is likely that of former Sheriff Charlie Wade (Kris Kristofferson). Sam’s father Buddy Deeds was Sheriff Wade’s deputy originally and became most of the town saw the two of them get into an altercation at a bar the night Sheriff Wade disappeared. Sam always had an uneasy relationship with his father and is certain Buddy Deeds is the killer…or is he? Look for a young Francis McDormand in a great cameo as Bunny.

Happy Birthday, Gigi! And Certified Sadistic Accountant Twenty-Eight

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Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter twenty-eight of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week…what are you doing here, Bernard?

The other neighborhood bunnies and I want to do something for you.

What do you…?

A one and a two and a…Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear, Gigi! Happy Birthday to you! Woo!

That is so sweet of you! Thank you for remembering today is my birthday!

Let’s do the bunny hop dance.

I don’t…

Stick your right paw out. Stick your right paw in. Stick your left paw out. Stick your left paw in. Hop forwards. Hop back. Hop forwards three times: hop, hop, hop. Out, in, out in, out, in, out in, forward, back, hop, hop, hop! Line dance!

This is confusing, I don’t know if I can…

Everybody! Out, in, out in, out, in, out, in, forward, back, hop, hop hop! Out, in, out in, out, in, out, in, forward, back, hop, hop hop!

Help! I’m being dragged into a bunny stampede!

Out, in, out in, out, in, out, in, forward, back, hop, hop hop! Out, in, out in, out, in, out, in, forward, back, hop, hop hop! Out, in, out in, out, in, out, in, forward, back, hop, hop hop!

Where’s the door! Where is the door! Help!

Out, in, out in, out, in, out, in, forward, back, hop, hop hop! Out, in, out in, out, in, forward, back, hop, hop hop!

I am locking them in…success! What a bizarre birthday surprise! I heard something like this happened to Napoleon. Alright then. Here is chapter twenty-eight of Certified Sadistic Accountant. No one ever expects the bunny dance.  

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Alright, Dal,” Sheriff Bob said as he and his officers set up the surveillance in the Dupree dining room. “We’re going to be watching the window there and we’re going to need to keep the lights off,” he said pointing to the picture window that faced the street where the mailboxes stood. “They’ll be watching and listening thanks to our mobile unit parked a few blocks away. If our kidnappers head over to your mailbox to drop off their second ransom note, we’ll be ready for them.”

“What if they don’t deliver a second ransom note at all?” Dallas asked, his hands on his hips and his foot tapping.

“They want something, that’s for sure so they are going to try and contact you one way or another.”

“I want my girl back, Bob.”

“And right now finding Fia is priority number one for me and my officers.”

“Say Sheriff,” one of the officers said siding up to Bob, “this coffee is good and all, but Mort was wondering if there was any decaf.”

“My wife and I don’t drink decaf,” Dallas said. “What’s the point of drinking coffee if there’s no caffeine in it?”

“Well, sir, Mort loves the taste of it. He’s just been trying to cut down. If he drinks too much, he’s bound to handle his weapon improperly. We were out at the shooting range yesterday and he’d just drank one of those triple macchiatos and let me tell you, he couldn’t hit the barn. I mean…”

“That’s enough, Steve,” Sheriff Bob said. “Dal, do you have a beverage in your pantry there that’s non-caffeinated?”

“My wife has herbal tea in the cupboard somewhere. She bought it for Fia. I’ll see if I can find it.”

Mr. Dupree headed into the kitchen to retrieve the herbal tea while the rest of Sheriff Bob’s officers continued setting up the stake out. A minute or so later Mrs. Dupree entered the dining room with a large plastic bowl filled with snacks.

“I don’t want anyone to go hungry,” she said.

“Thank you, Damaris,” Sheriff Bob said. “My officers will appreciate this. Stakeouts take a lot of patience, you know.”

“Why don’t you think the kidnappers came last night?”

“Might have seen Keith’s patrol car parked out there and scampered off. Although I’m also found it strange that they didn’t show up. They must want to get those instructions to you and your husband.”

“Do you think you can get Fia back?”

Sheriff Bob kept a neutral look on his face. “We know she’s in the hands of someone or a group who want something and if you and your husband meet their demands there is a good chance you’ll see her again.”

Mrs. Dupree nodded solemnly. “Get her back, Bob.”

Sherrif Bob nodded.

“Okay,” Mr. Dupree said returning to the room. “I’ve got the tea.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dupree,” Officer Steve said walking up and taking the cup from him. Mort will love this.”

“Which one is Mort?”

“That guy over there.”

Mr. Dupree turned to see where Officer Steve was pointing and saw a small man with dark straight hair and a pencil thin mustache. So, that’s the tea drinker he thought. Officer Steve took Officer Mort the cup of tea and then headed over to peruse the big bowl of treats Mrs. Dupree had set out.

“Zero bars!” he exclaimed. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a Zero bar.” He grabbed the candy bar, ripped off the wrapper and took a bite. “Man, these are tasty. Hey, Mort. Do you like Zero bars?”

Mort took a sip of his tea and shook his head.

“They’ve got baked potato chips, granola bars, cookie packs…”

“Mort likes trail mix,” Sheriff Bob said.

“Okay.” Officer Steve picked up the trail mix and studied the package. “There’s carob chips in the trail mix, Mort.”

Mort adjusted his headset and gave Steve a thumbs up.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Officer Steve said to Mrs. Dupree and tossed the pack of trail mix to Officer Mort who caught it in midair.

“I heard something,” a third officer said.

“Brock heard something,” Sheriff Bob announced. All the officers focused on their video surveillance. A FedEx truck had pulled up to the mailboxes. “Kind of late to be making a delivery, don’t you think?”

“He’s usually here by four in the afternoon,” Dallas said.

The officers watched as the FedEx guy got out of his vehicle and headed into the back of his delivery truck. He got out a manilla envelope, carried it to the front porch and rang the doorbell. This prompted the Dupree dog, Diamonds to bark wildly.

“What do we do?” Dallas asked.

“Answer the door,” Sherrif Bob said.

Dallas opened the door. “Yes?”

“Package for Mr. Dallas Dupree,” the FedEx guy said.

“Kind of late for you to be delivering, isn’t it?”

“Your regular FedEx delivery person went on spring break. I’m just filling in.”

“Oh…”

“Have a nice night.”

“Thank you.”

The FedEx guy turned around, headed out to his truck, and left. Mr. Dupree started to open the envelope.

“Hold on there, Dal,” Sheriff Bob said. “You need gloves and a mask. Why don’t you let my deputy here open it.”

 A policeman with Guy Fieri hair snapped on a pair of gloves and a mask and took the envelope out of Mr. Dupree’s hands. He opened it and pulled out the ransom note.

“What does it say, Gunther?”

“Give me a moment,” the deputy said. “It’s longer than the first note. Let’s see, “Fire your accountants on Monday or never see Fia again.” Those are odd demands.” Deputy Gunther turned the paper over and checked the back and then turned it back to the front. “Yep. That’s all she wrote.”

“This is ridiculous!” Mr. Dupree exclaimed. “These lunatics want me to fire all my accountants in the middle of Tax Season? Are they insane? That’s absurd!”

“Did you have some customers who were displeased with the way you did their taxes?” Sheriff Bob asked.

“No! None that I’m aware of anyway. Isn’t there a way I could just pay them off?”

“We aren’t talking about sane people here, Dal. I would relent and carry out their demands.”

“Are you nuts? I’ll lose my clientele!”

“If you don’t, you’ll lose your daughter. Look, Dal, go into the office on Monday and explain the situation to your staff. Tell them it’s temporary and you’re dealing with an unstable mind.”

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: JOE (2013)-TUBI, FREEVE, PLUTO, ROKU CHANNEL

This past week I looked up the list of the top downloaded apps and of the movie apps the most popular was Tubi followed by HBO Max and Netflix. And so, I thought I would choose a few movies this summer that are standouts on the Tubi channel. The first one is one of Nicholas Cage’s best performances and features a young Tye Sheridan. The film is called Joe based on the book by Larry Brown who sadly died of a heart attack at the age of 53.

The story is a gritty Southern Gothic piece about a man named Joe (Nicholas Cage). Joe lost connection with his family after he was arrested and incarcerated in his mid-thirties for physically assaulting a police officer. Now a free man, Joe has an honest job as the foreman of a tree poisoning crew. A fifteen-year-old drifter named Gary Jones (Tye Sheridan) arrives in town with his mother, mute younger sister Dorothy (Anna Niemtschk), and abusive and alcoholic father Wade Jones (Gary Poulter). Gary asks Joe for a job and promises to work hard, which he does. Joe is pleased with the likable kid and agrees to hire Wade the next day as well. But Wade turns out to be belligerent and lazy and Joe fires both he and Gary. However, when Joe sees Wade beat up Gary and take his money, he re-hires Gary and the two form a father and son bond that spirals into harrowing events.  

The screenplay was beautifully penned by Gary Hawkins and directed by David Gordon Green. Tim Orr’s cinematography adds to the beautiful but gloomy atmosphere. Gary Poulter was homeless when he was hired for the part of Wade. Sadly, he died shortly before the film was released.