Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Thirty-Five

July 18, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

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-Three

July 4, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon and Happy 4^th 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 5^th 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

**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 Twenty-Nine

June 6, 2024June 11, 2024 ~ 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

**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.

Certified Sadidstic Accountant Chapter Twenty

April 4, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter twenty of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. One can never underestimate the importance of getting one’s blanket just so. I spend a fair amount of time each day adjusting my beloved blanket. My novelist will fold it into a nice flat rectangle and place it on the bed. This is all good and well except I simply do not like it that way. You see, I like to fluff it up a bit, rumple it even, arrange it so that I am content. And then what does my novelist do? She shakes it out and folds it back into a rectangle. I must get her to understand that once my blanket is exactly the way I have arranged it, that is the way it should remain. It is my blanket after all. It is necessary for me to scrunch it up the way I imagine it to be in my head so I can think. How else am I to get any work done if she keeps flattening it out into a boring easy to describe shape? How is that creative? She writes novels, she should have insight into this. An artist needs their quirks. I must have a word with her about the matter. Until then here is chapter twenty of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Enjoy!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Twenty

Mr. Dupree slogged into the office the next day haggard and beside himself. His eyes were glassy, his shirt untucked, and his tie not properly knotted. Curtis took one look at his boss and knew his plan was in full swing. He hurried over to him and said, “Mr. Dupree, you look terrible. Is everything okay?”

“Fia,” Dallas moaned. “Fia is being held for ransom.”

“Really?”

Mr. Dupree flung his briefcase up on one of the nearby desks and flipped open the latches. He produced the ransom note Curtis had left inside his mailbox last night. Curtis tingled with adrenaline when he saw it.

“Shouldn’t you have given it to the police?”

Mr. Dupree ruffled. “Of course, I called the police, Cook. I called the sheriff directly. But she must be missing for twenty-four hours before they will do anything.”

“Did you tell them about the ransom note?”

“No, Cook I did not. I called the sheriff before I ever received the ransom note. Before I even knew there was a ransom note. I am waiting until lunch time to call them again. Then it will be twenty-four hours since she’s been gone.”

“I think the ransom note would be enough for them to spring into action. It specifically shows she’s a hostage.”

“In the hands of criminals.”

Curtis wasn’t sure he liked the idea of being referred to as a criminal. “Although, I suppose its possible they might consider you wrote the ransom note yourself.”

“What possible reason would I have for writing a ransom note for my recently abducted daughter, Cook?”

“I am sorry you are in this terrible situation, Mr. Dupree.”

“My poor Fia. My poor dear Fia.”

Just then Makenna, Lance, Irving, and Grady entered the office all carrying pastel coffee cups from The Steamed Bean. They collectively looked at Mr. Dupree and knew something was wrong.

“What’s the matter?” Lance asked, being the bravest of the four.

“Fia,” Mr. Dupree said sullenly. “She’s been kidnapped.”

“What?” Makenna said shocked.

“I received a ransom note in my mailbox this morning saying Fia had been kidnapped with instructions to follow.”

“How much money do they want?” Lance asked.

“I don’t even know if it’s money they want. All I know is there will be instructions to follow.”

“The whole thing seems implausible,” Grady said.

“Well, it is plausible, Grady. It’s very plausible.”

“How is Mrs. Dupree doing?” Makenna asked.

“Pretty much the same way any sane mother would after finding out her daughter had been kidnapped: out of her mind!”

“Do you have any idea when you might be getting more information from the kidnappers?”

“No. I’m hoping by tonight. Maybe in the morning. Until then I must wait until noon to report her missing.”

Mr. Dupree trudged upstairs to his office.

“What are we going to do for a receptionist?” Lance asked.

“Don’t be so insensitive,” Makenna said.

“It’s going to get busy. Someone needs to be at the desk.”

“I’ll ask Mr. Dupree,” Curtis said.

“Why you?” Irving said. “I don’t trust you.”

“Screw it,” Lance said. “Go ask him, Cook the Books.”

Curtis turned and headed up the stairs to Mr. Dupree’s office and knocked on the door.”

“What is it, Cook?” Mr. Dupree called.

“I hate to be insensitive,” Curtis said, “but who do you want handling the receptionist desk?”

Mr. Dupree sighed. “Why did this have to happen during tax season? People always kick you when you’re down.”

“I’ll take over the receptionist desk, Mr. Dupree.”

“No, Cook, you won’t. You’re handling some of my biggest clients. You don’t have time.”

“Yes, Mr. Dupree,” Curtis said, appreciative of the complement.

“You’re a good man, Cook.”

That complement, however, filled Curtis with remorse. But he had to keep it together. All he had to do was make it through the weekend.

“I’ll do it.”

“Sir?”

“I’ll handle the desk.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea…I mean considering what you’re going through?”

“It’s too late to call in a substitute. Fia was our substitute.”

“Okay, Mr. Dupree.”

Curtis trotted back downstairs and told his fellow accountants, “Mr. Dupree will be working the receptionist desk.”

“You mean he’s going to come down here and spy on us?” Lance said irritated. “Tax season is stressful enough. I don’t need the boss looking over my shoulder. I mean does the guy even know how to answer the phones?”

“We need a receptionist,” Makenna said, “so, stop complaining.”

“Seriously not liking this at all.”

As soon as business hours began, Mr. Dupree came down the stairs, straightened his navy-blue Savile Row silk tie and marched over to the receptionist’s desk, stepped up on the platform and took his place just as the first phone call rang.

“Dupree Tax Agency,” he said into the handset. “How may I direct your call…oh, it’s you, Bob. So, now you call me after dismissing the disappearance of my daughter.”

All the accountants leaned in to eavesdrop.

“You said I had to wait until noon…then why are you calling me? Oh, you’re worried. How kind of you. How considerate. If you were so worried you should have helped find my daughter last night! And she’s been kidnapped. I found a ransom note in my mailbox this morning…. yeah, that’s right, a ransom note…. yeah, you’d better get right on it, Sherlock!” Mr. Dupree slammed down the handset. After a beat, he looked out at all his employees staring at him. “What are you all looking at? Get back to work!”

“I guess he does know how to answer the phones,” Lance whispered to Curtis.

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: DREAM SCENARIO (2023)–HBO MAX**

It’s always a delight to come across a smaller film that is well worth watching and be able to recommend it for our Stream of the Week. This week’s pick is one of those films. Introverted, unassuming, unpublished professor Dr. Paul Mathews (Nicholas Cage in top form) only wants a couple of things out of life: his family, his job and publishing his book which he has yet to write. Then one day his younger daughter Sophie (Lily Bird) tells her dad she had a dream about him the night before where all around her in their back yard things were falling from the sky, the ground was shaking, and she suddenly was being lifted into the air. And all the time her father was just calmly raking leaves.

Paul later meets up with his old girlfriend from college with a vague hope that she still thinks about him or has some residual feelings. But in truth she’s hardly thought about him over the years and all she can say about Paul is she saw him in a recent dream, and he was doing nothing. Paul finds out his students are also having dreams about him where something stressful is occurring and Paul just seems to walk through them unphased. In fact, the only people who don’t seem to be dreaming about Paul are the Dean of Paul’s college Brett (Tim Meadows) and his wife Janet (Julianne Nicholson). Paul’s life starts to become crazier when he contacts a public relations firm called Thoughts? where he meets the head of marketing Trent (Michael Cere) and his assistant Molly (Dylan Nicole Gelula) who want to have Paul pimp Sprite in people’s unconscious. Molly confesses to Paul she has been having erotic dreams about him, a fact that will spin Paul’s world into greater chaos.

Dream Scenario is an excellent meditation on the modern take of mob mentality and the inability for human beings in the modern day to tell the difference between fantasy and reality. The film’s editing was done by Kristoffer Borgli who also wrote the original screenplay and directed the film, to move like a dream throughout, giving the audience the sensation of not necessarily knowing what is real and what is not. I am disappointed the film did not receive Oscar nominations for Nicholas Cage’s superb performance, and Borgli’s editing and writing.

If you’d like to see Nicholas Cage in another outstanding smaller film, check out Pig (2021) which we strongly recommend and featured as one of our Stream of the Week picks last year. It is currently streaming on Hulu.

Tucker: In Memoriam

March 21, 2024March 28, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

What can you say about a thirteen-year-old Maltese who died?

That he was beautiful. And quiet. That he loved going for walks. And suppertime. And my novelist. And me. One time when I was feeling particularly generous, I let him snuggle up on the chair I happened to be sharing with my novelist. I even let him lie to the left side of her whilst I, of course, lay on her lap. I am normally quite stingy when it comes to these things. But in retrospect I wish I had let him lie next to her more.

On Saturday, the day Tucker passed away, my novelist could not stop crying. She was stronger on Sunday but on Monday I heard her sniffling and trying to hold back tears. Every so often she would look over at the chair he used to lie in, and a deep sadness would fill her eyes. She has his collar properly buckled and sitting near the door. Perhaps with the hope he will someday come home.

I too am adjusting to the loss of my companion. I found myself checking his empty bed and a couple of nights ago I ran over and barked at the beanbag chair hoping he might hop down and romp around with me. And then I realized he wasn’t there. I even checked under my novelist’s bed where he liked to hide, but my efforts were in vain.

Tucker was a rescue dog. His original owner was an elderly lady who passed away when he was three years old. My novelist had owned a chihuahua poodle mix who’d died in surgery several months prior. The woman who was fostering Tucker was my novelist’s groomer. The groomer agreed to part with Tucker and my novelist paid her and gave Tucker a home.

It took Tucker some time to adjust to living with my novelist. He did not know how to be carried at first. His elderly owner must not have picked him up much. My novelist tells me when she first started carrying him, he would lose balance and tilt in awkward ways. But after a while he got used to it. I dare say he enjoyed it. He was a Maltese and a lapdog after all. He loved curling up in her lap which I could not stand because I always wanted to curl up in her lap. Sometimes I just had to accept I needed to share. And I hate to share. I think for a long time Tucker missed his original owner. My novelist tells me it is very hard on a dog to lose their owner. What he went through was traumatic, she told me, and there was a small room inside his heart where he always kept her.

My novelist procured me from the same groomer. I was the groomer’s poodle’s puppy. My twin brother had already been sold and I was still for sale. I am a parti poodle, but my brother had pure black hair. My novelist purchased me, but I couldn’t go home with her at first. My brother and I were too young to leave our mother yet. And so, my novelist had to wait about a month before she brought me home to live with Tucker. Tucker was displeased with me the moment he saw me. But after a while he came to understand it was my abode and he was merely allowed to live there. My novelist disagreed with my philosophy and often scolded me or gave me a time-out when she thought I’d crossed a line. But it was only because she loved Tucker and wanted to protect him and keep him safe.

Some of the good times I remember included Tucker and I going on road trips with my novelist. We got to stay in some lovely Airbnb places together by the beach. There was one in a rather remote and quiet area which was quite wonderful. It was cavernous and my voice echoed magnificently throughout the house. We both enjoyed the sea air and exploring new places.

Tucker’s decline came upon us slowly. He started to bump into things and my novelist said his eyesight must be going. Others were skeptical but it turned out she was right. His eyesight indeed left him, and he was blind for the last portion of his life. Last year the vet noticed he had a heart murmur. I thought of his first owner. Perhaps she is the reason his heart started murmuring. The weight of the loss had finally broken him.

Tucker died in my novelist’s lap. He just fell asleep and never woke up again. My novelist went out to the car a little later. She says she saw a small white butterfly flit around the passenger side window. Perhaps that was his way of saying goodbye.

Our home is much quieter now. I used to start barking and that would get Tucker barking, but I don’t feel the urge to bark much these days. A little here and there usually when UPS drives by. But not as much as I did. I go about my daily routine. I go for walks. I lie around the house. Mostly I just feel a little sad. I know things will get better with time and I know he will never be forgotten. I feel sorry about the way I treated him sometimes. But I guess there is something to be said about love meaning never having to say you’re sorry. And he loved me. And I loved him.

-Gigi the parti poodle

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Eighteen

March 15, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter eighteen of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. I watched the Oscars last week and it was a most scrumptious event. I did miss the first part of the opening monologue because, as my novelist puts it, I was naughty. I was merely correcting Tucker the Maltese. He needed to know this was an auspicious event. He didn’t even dress for the occasion and yet I am the one who gets a timeout. After that, I was able to see all the awards. The food was delicious even if I was not allowed to have the chocolate. I must put in a request for white chocolate at these events so I can partake as well. But I was rather fond of the crackers that we had. My novelist picked seventeen of the Oscar categories correctly this year, which is not bad. She has never picked them all correctly, but she did well. We have not had the opportunity to view all the films, but we are hoping to see a few more soon. And on that note, here is chapter eighteen of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Eighteen

Curtis snuck up the street near the Dupree residence. He was dressed all in black including a knit hat and leather gloves with the hopes that no one would notice him or catch him on surveillance. He had the ransom note carefully packed in a large Ziploc bag. He located the neat even row of mailboxes and found the one with the numbers which corresponded with the Dupree household. He took out his keychain which had a small black nano light attached to it and shined it on the numbers to locate the correct box. He found it rather quickly and reached for the knob.

Suddenly, a large racoon leaped onto the Dupree mailbox. The racoon leaned in and stared intensely at Curtis. Startled, Curtis yelped, jumped back and examined the masked intruder. He waved his hand at the animal. “Get out of here, stupid racoon.” The racoon hissed at him. A rare thing as racoons do tend to be non-aggressive animals. Curtis could not remember the last time he had seen such a sadistic looking racoon. “Go!” he half whispered at the thing swatting his hand in its face.

The racoon did not take kindly to the swatting and swatted back catching Curtis on the left cheek with its paw. Curtis grabbed his face and ducked as the racoon continued to claw at him. Curtis glanced down and noticed a half-full bottle of water lying on its side on the ground someone had carelessly discarded when they came out to retrieve their mail. Curtis reached down and grabbed it. Between ducking the racoon’s claws, he worked the cap off and hurled the contents in the animal’s face.

Curtis’s defense gave the racoon a good scare and it jumped off the mailbox and scurried into the night. Curtis grabbed the handle of the mailbox and opened the magnetic door. He carefully removed the ransom note from the plastic bag and attached it to the outgoing mail clip. Then he slowly closed the mailbox and hurried back to his Honda.

He’d parked the car a few blocks away with the hope no cameras would see him or suspect he had done something nefarious. He climbed inside, started the engine, slowly backed the car up, and turned down the quiet suburban road.

Curtis pulled into the driveway of his Aunt Odette’s cabin. He eased the Honda up to the garage, opened the door and parked. He had not turned the porch light on to deter attention and had to be careful traversing from the garage to the cabin. A tremendous wave of pride overcame him as he stepped inside. He had succeeded. He had managed to deliver the ransom note. Now all he had to do was make sure Fia was still secure in the attic.

He retrieved his flashlight and bear mace and headed upstairs. “Fia,” he said as he knocked on the door. “I’m coming in.” He opened the door and posed in his policeman stance with his mace in one hand and his flashlight in the other ready for trouble. He scanned the room with the flashlight and found Fia standing near some of his aunt’s old dresses.

“I’ll bet you were close to your aunt when you were a kid,” she said.

Curtis flipped on the light switch with his shoulder. “Why do you say that?” he said.

“What did you do when you visited her here?”

“She didn’t always live here. She had a house in the suburbs. A brown rambler with a big back yard and a stone birdbath in the center.”

“What else was in the yard?”

“The fence had paintings on it.”

“She hung paintings on her fence?”

“No, she had a boyfriend named Arbor who painted murals on either side. I remember they were strange but beautiful. Kind of like watery dreams.”

“Did you play outside in the yard much?’

“Now and then. I remember catching bees. I had this jelly jar and I snuck up on a bee sitting on one of my aunt’s roses. I captured it quickly and screwed the lid on tight. The bee started bouncing up and down from the bottom of the jar to the lid. It went back and forth agitated and angry until finally it just gave up.”

“Is that what I am? A bee trapped in your jar?”

“No. No, not at all. There’s a reason, you see.”

“A reason? What reason?”

“The reason is none of your business.”

“It is my business, Curtis. It’s very much my business since you’ve decided to put my life on hold and locked me in an attic. Have you even thought this out, Curtis?”

“Yes, of course I’ve thought it out. I’ve already taken the next step.”

“What’s the next step?”

“That’s none of your business.”

“I need to use the bathroom.”

“Oh. Oh, yes. Of course. I’ll have to put a zip tie on you again.”

“How am I supposed to go to the bathroom with my wrists bound?’

“If you hadn’t tried to run off maybe I could trust you.”

“You cut the zip tie off so I could eat, and I didn’t try to escape then.”

Curtis studied her for a moment. “I’m still going to zip tie you,” he said.

“Fine,” she relented. “But I need my hands bound in the front.”

“Fair enough.”

Curtis took a zip tie out of his back pocket. “Put your hands out.” Fia put her hands out in front of her. Curtis put the zip tie on them. “Alright, let’s go.”

Curtis led Fia out of the room and down the stairs to the second floor where his Aunt Odette’s bedroom was. Curtis opened the door. All yours.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with you standing right outside,” she said.

“I have to make sure you don’t bolt.”

“I won’t. Just give me some privacy, will you.”

“I’ll stand right over there,” he said pointing to the staircase.

“Fine.”

Fia stepped inside and Curtis closed the door behind her. She took note of the window. She used the facilities and turned on the water. She quietly looked down. There was nothing near to climb on to. If she jumped, she would break her leg. She would need to find a way to lower herself down. Right now, she needed to get him to trust her. Fia washed her hands and turned off the water. She noticed his Aunt Odette had a matching hand lotion to go with the soap. It was lovely. Too bad she had to have Curtis for a nephew.

“I’m ready,” she called.

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: PAST LIVES (2023)-SHOWTIME**

This week’s movie was one of the movies nominated for Best Original Screenplay this year for writer director Celine Song, and although it is not one of my most favorite scripts of the year it is still well penned, properly paced, thoughtful and honest, and well worth the watch. Especially if you are the type of filmgoer who enjoys romance and lean towards more emotional stories.

The story is about two children Nora (Seung-ah Moon) and (Seung-Min Yim). We can tell even at their tender ages there is a strong connection between the two. But Nora’s parents decide to emigrate to Canada where they feel they will have better opportunities.

Twelve years later we Nora (Greta Lee) is living in New York City pursuing her dreams to become a writer. She has become Americanized and is accustomed to living in the hustle and bustle of the western world. She finds that Hae Sung (Teo Yoo) has been trying to find her online. The two reconnect and spend hours conversing. But things become tense when Nora tries to persuade Hae Sung to come see her in New York and Hae Sung tries to persuade Nora to come back to see him in South Korea. Finally, after some time Hae Sung finally goes to New York and the two reconnect over the course of a weekend.

One of the strongest parts of the story is how the two characters don’t just represent human beings but lifestyles as well. Nora is a break from tradition that Hae Sung is apprehensive about taking a chance on and Hae Sung is a re-embracing of Korean culture that Nora is apprehensive about returning to. And these obstacles strain their relationship even though it is clear both are each other’s true love. John Magaro rounds out the cast as Arthur.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Six

December 14, 2023April 24, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

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

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Six

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

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

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

“When did you get here?” he asked.

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

“Mr. Dupree is here?”

“He’s in his office.”

“I’m always the first one in.”

“I guess we beat you.”

“I guess.”

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

“I’m trying to save up some money.”

“Money for what?”

“My future.”

“How’s that going so far?”

“Well, acually.”

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

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

Just then, Dallas Dupree entered the break room.

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

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

“Oh, good.”

“Don’t get any fresh ideas.”

“Dad,” Fia said embarrassed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dad, where do you want these?”

“In the breakroom,” Dallas Dupree said.

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

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

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

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

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

Fia looked at her father blankly.

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

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

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

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

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

“See you tomorrow, Mr. Dupree.”

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

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

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

“For coffee?” Dallas asked.

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sounds easy enough,” Fia said.

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

“What if there’s a third caller?”

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

“Wow.”

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

“Is there anything else you do?”

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

“The breakroom always looks spotless.”

“I get really bored a lot.”

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

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

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

“Good morning,” Curtis replied.

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

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

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

“Yeah, she’s pretty.”

“I’d do her.”

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

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

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

Lance scoffed. “No.”

Curtis nodded.

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

“What? You can’t do that!”

“Why?”

“What’ll…what’ll Makenna say?”

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

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

“Didn’t have to.”

“You’re a douche, Lance.”

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

MY BOOKS

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

STREAM OF THE WEEK: THE KILLER (2023)-NETFLIX

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

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