Convenience Store

May 8, 2025 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good morning. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to tell you about my exciting week. First, the trauma: on Friday I was given a bath. As many of you know baths are not my favorite pastime. However, I have done well overcoming my recent phobias and I was able to get through the whole ordeal without a yelp. Second, the reward: I got to travel to my novelist’s relative’s home. That is always a delight. I love the view of the convenience store across the street. I can lie on the couch and watch the comings and goings of customers. From what I understand, someone once drove right into the front and destroyed the entrance and window. I am always on the lookout for a fun romp, and I patiently waited for disaster to strike again. Alas, I was disappointed. No grand event happened. The only entertainment I partook of was watching strangers coming and going getting coffee, slushy drinks and junk food. The couch, however, was most comfortable and I rather enjoyed my occasional snacks throughout the day as I observed the outside world. All in all, it was a wonderful change of pace from the usual weekend at home. Even if I did not get to see a major convenience store disaster. Until next week, I bid you adieu.

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: BANK OF DAVE (2023)-NETFLIX

This week’s pick is a lighthearted thoughtful film based on the true-life experiences of Dave Fishwick, a self-made millionaire from Burnly England. After several years of loaning money to people in his community Dave decided to open a community bank despite the bureaucratic monopoly of HSBC, Barclays, Lloyds Banking Group, and NatWest.

Dave (Rory Kinnear), a likable chap who has a successful business selling vans and mini busses, is fed up with the way the British banks treat the average everyday customer. And so, after being successful loaning out money to people in his hometown, he decides to open his own community bank. He contacts a law firm in London where a couple of lawyers, Clarence (Angus Wright) and Hugh (Joel Fry) are assigned to the case. Clarence sends Hugh to Burnly to handle the work. Hugh, who is very much a city mouse, gets mildly injured on his first day there and meets emergency doctor Alexandra (Phoebe Dynevor) and quickly becomes smitten with her. Alexandra explains to him how the town is in desperate need of a walk-in clinic. Hugh soon finds out Alexandra is Dave’s niece.

Hugh also discovers Dave has a perchance for Karaoke and likes to sing rock songs at the local pub. Hugh visits the pub and gets to meet the locals and understand more about their situation. Though he is not fond of small-town life, Hugh takes a liking to Dave and his cause. Although it has been decades since a new bank has been allowed to form in England, Hugh studies the case diligently and begins to build a case for Dave, which he thinks will outsmart the big banks at their own game.

Selling a House is Difficult Indeed

December 19, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. Gigi the parti poodle here hoping you are having a wonderful holiday season. This week we finally got our tree up thanks to…Him. It has lights but no decorations yet. My novelist has been helping one of her relatives sell their house as well as starting work on her new novel. It has been utter madness. We’ve hardly had time to breathe. None of our gifts are wrapped. And our home is discombobulated. We have come to learn, as some of you may know, the biggest challenge to selling a house is emptying it. Absolute pandemonium. We have also learned that one of the worst things to sift through in a house is not accessories or books or clothing or dishes or tools. It’s papers. Papers are the worst. You must go through every document to figure out what is important and what is trash. An absolute nightmare. Things can be kept, sold, gifted and/or donated. But not paperwork. I wake up at night after dreaming about the sound of shredders. I now know what it is like to work for UPS. I have nothing but respect for those astute individuals. One would not think a writer would come to despise paper. However, a good writer often writes on their computer, uploading their work to the cloud and keeps notebooks of their writings usually in an orderly or somewhat orderly fashion. But paperwork, well now, that’s a whole different story.

That said, I am keeping a stiff upper lip and keeping my novelist well managed by telling her which pile to put which documents in. She has been remarkably accepting of my suggestions. The sale of the property should be completed this week and then we can settle back into our usual routine and move forward with the holiday season. I for one am still itching for my diamond studded collar to be placed under our tree by Santa or my novelist. Either is satisfactory. And now, here is my novelist’s Stream of the Week. Joyeuses Fêtes!

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: DERRY GIRLS (2018)-NETFLIX**

One of Netflix very best comedies is this absolute gem by Lisa McGee. If you have never seen it, you really, really should. It catches your attention right off the bat and you won’t be able to wait for the next episode. If you are looking for something to binge-watch this holiday season you will find it difficult to choose a better dark comedy than this one about five friends who find themselves in all sorts of wacky teenage situations which come off as utterly entertaining and smartly told. In my opinion, this might be one of the best if not the best teenage ensembles I’ve ever seen put together on a television show. McGee based the show on her teenage years when she attended Thornhill College in Northern Ireland in the early 1990’s. The show won a well-deserved Internation Emmy for its third and final season. At least the Emmys got something right.

Set in the early 1990’s in Northern Ireland in the little town of Derry, lives a group of catholic girls who just want to be teenagers and not bothered with the war, often referred to as The Troubles. Erin Quinn (Saoirse-Monica Jackson) is a sixteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl who keeps a diary and dreams of one day becoming a writer. She lives with her mother Mary Quinn (Tara Lynne O’Neill), her father Gerry Quinn (Tommy Tiernan), her maternal grandfather Joe McCool (Ian McElhinney), her sixteen-year-old cousin Orla McCool (Louisa Harland) and Orla’s mother Erin’s aunt Sarah McCool (Kathy Kiera Clarke).

Erin and Orla attend Our Lady Immaculate College with their friends the neurotic Clair Devlin (Nicola Coughlan) and cock-sure Michelle Mallon (Jamie-Lee O’Donnell). As the show opens on the first day of a new school year, Michelle is accompanied by her cousin James Maguire (Dylan Llewellyn) who has recently moved in with the Mallon’s. He is from England, which all the girls give him a hard time about and is the only male student attending the all-girls school. Our Lady Immaculate College is run by world weary nun Sister Michael (Siobhán McSweeney) who has seen it all and sees through just about everything.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Fifty: Final Chapter

November 15, 2024November 15, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce the fiftieth and final chapter of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This has been an experiment almost a year in the making. And now it has reached its glorious end. If you are not aware, the idea of my blog stories is to write a story on the fly, chapter to chapter as opposed to creating the foundation of a story and doing the research that accompanies most novels. After today I will be taking a hiatus to assist my novelist in writing…a novel…the traditional way. I will continue to do my usual Thursday posts, and my novelist will continue to write her Stream of the Week. I anticipate returning to writing stories for the blog again in the Summer of 2025 and will keep you updated. Until then, I hope you enjoy my fiftieth and final chapter of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Jouir!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Fifty

Curtis opened his eyes. He could see a carpet of green grass and his nose caught the smell of Easter lilies. He sat up and looked around and could see daffodils and tulips blooming in the nearby gardens. As he gazed further away, he saw a haze…maybe a mistiness across the field in the distance. Then he heard a jingle, a light metallic sound.

Out of the mist came a sight that gave him more relief than anything he’d ever seen. His little dog Haven with white satin bows in her hair ran towards him yipping frantically. When she reached him, she stood up on her hind legs and danced in front of him.

Curtis fell on his knees and scooped the little Yorkie runt into his arms. Her silky hair brushed against his cheek as he inhaled her clean scent that swirled in his mind like joy.

“Haven,” he said as warm rivers of tears streamed down his cheeks. “Haven, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you.”

Her small pink tongue flicked at his salty face as he stood up and carried her through the grass. He looked around and saw the mountains with white snowy caps. He could hear water flowing from a nearby fountain. He heard robins and blue jays and chickadees. He looked up into the cherry blossom trees and saw them flitting from branch to branch. He carried Haven over to the fountain, set her down, and sat down beside her. He kicked off his shoes so he could feel the grass on the soles of his feet.

He felt the sun on his face and closed his eyes. When he did, he heard a strange, distorted sound. His eyelids flew open, and the distorted sound stopped. His Cochlear nerve shifted, and the chorus of the birds and the falling water of the fountain once again filled his ears. He petted Haven and she laid her head in his lap. He looked across the rolling grass where brown bunnies hopped around and chased each other.

In the distance, something caught his eye. He studied it trying to make out what it was. It looked familiar but he was unsure. He reached out to his side and felt Haven’s leash curled beside him. He fastened it to Haven’s harness and started walking towards the object with his little dog leading the way. As he approached it, he realized it was a large ornate chair. As he moved around it, he found it was empty as if it were waiting for something or someone to sit on it. Haven trotted over, put her paws on the seat and stood on her hind legs wagging her tail and examining this odd piece of furniture.

“Haven, get down,” Curtis said.

Haven ignored him and hopped up in the seat and sat there wagging her tail.

“Come on. Let’s get down.”

Haven laid down on her stomach, put her head on her paws, and looked up at him with forlorn eyes.

“Cuteness will get you nowhere.”

Curtis reached over to lift her off the chair, but she hopped out of his hands and sat back down as if to say she wasn’t going anywhere. He sighed and sat down on the grass beside her. He closed his eyes and heard the strange, distorted sounds again. His eyes flew open, and the sounds stopped.

Bexley’s plane descended from the sky and landed on the tarmac at exactly 6:00am. She had her small carry-on under the seat in front of her and her larger carry-on with wheels in the bin above. She was sitting in front, and she knew as soon as first class got off the plane she would be inside the airport in no time. Although it was a short flight, she managed to sleep most of the way. The plane had less passengers on it than she’d anticipated.

She looked out the window as the jet’s wheels coasted to a stop. She took her ear plugs out of her ears, reached down and retrieved her small carry-on bag. She stood up, set it on her seat, stepped out into the aisle, grabbed her larger carry-on from the bin above her, and set it on the ground. This was no small task as the carry-on was weighed down with souvenirs she had picked up while in Palm Springs. She stood there waiting for the first-class passengers to disembark. Then she slipped the strap of the small carry-on over her shoulder and dragged her matching larger carry-on behind her as she headed to the front of the plane where she said goodbye to the flight attendants and the vaguely sleezy-looking pilots. She traversed down the jet bridge and arrived at the small airport.

As she headed out the sliding glass doors and stood outside waiting for her shuttle to arrive, she realized how much colder it was here than Palm Springs. Not as cold as winter, but there was a misty rain, and the sky was a somber shade of grey. She regretted giving her phone number to that tall guy who always wore his baseball hat backwards and sported sleeveless white t-shirts with that California microbrew insignia on the back. She also shouldn’t have given her number to that bodybuilder who was always sticking a bottle cap between his thumb and forefinger and snapping it trying to determine how far it would sail through the air. And she never should have given her number to that annoying short guy with the nasal voice who kept following her all around the beach. Note to self: change phone number today.

Bexley was surprised at how empty the shuttle was when she boarded it. The only other passenger was a young woman her own age. The woman had bleach blonde frosted curls, a light tan, and sported an anklet that looked like a friendship bracelet and three gold hoops in each ear. When the young woman sat down, she turned to Bexley and said, “Heading back for Spring Quarter?”

Bexley studied the woman a moment and said, “Something like that.”

“I’m going to end up going Summer Quarter this year too.”

“That sucks.”

“Tell me about it. I had to drop a couple classes this year, so I need to make them up somehow, right?”

Bexley shrugged. “What are you going to do?”

“I know, right?”

The shuttle pulled into a place called The Coconut Express where both women had parked their cars. Bexley and the woman didn’t say anything else to each other. They just got off the shuttle, retrieved their bags, and tipped the driver. Bexley headed to her lime green Fiat, stuck her carry-ons in the trunk and climbed into the driver’s seat. She headed out to the freeway en route to the Dupree Tax Agency before she got off at the second exit.

She drove up to a bikini barista coffee stand called Kitty Cat Cappuccino. She’d worked at one outside of town a few years ago before getting a receptionist job. In truth, with tips she’d made more slinging coffee than she made answering phones. But she’d gotten tired of the clientele. One guy who’d really irritated her was, ironically, not some dude who drove an oversized pickup truck blasting Blake Shelton and Jelly Roll but rather a respectable lawyer in a Tesla who was fond of single-breasted suits and two-hundred-dollar haircuts. He had an annoying habit of reaching out of his car window, pinching the side of her bikini bottoms and snapping them back.

After a week of putting up with his shenanigans, she went to HotSauceRUs.com and purchased a small bottle of Da Bomb Evolution hot sauce. If you are not familiar with Da Bomb Evolution hot sauce it only requires a few drops to be brutal. When Mr. Tesla unassumingly drove up to the window of Kitty Cat Cappuccino, reached out and predictably snapped her bikini bottoms, Bexley had turned and smiled at him as she handed him his triple iced mocha. Turns out, Mr. Tesla’s mocha was not as iced as he thought that day as it contained no less than fifteen drops of Da Bomb Evolution which, as you may have guessed dear reader, blew his mind. He crashed his car into a stop sign, and after a 911 call made by a volunteer at a local women’s shelter, the drink landed him in the emergency room.

After tipping the barista a proper twenty percent, Bexley drove back onto the freeway and headed for the Dupree Tax Agency. At precisely seven fifty-five AM, she parked her lime green Fiat in the back parking lot of the Dupree Tax Agency, hopped out of her car, and headed to the front door with her keys.

“I’m back, she said tromping I in her black Birkenstocks she’d worn on the plane and her black summer cashmere t-shirt and charcoal colored Lucky Brand jeans with the Treasure and Bond black leather belt with the large gold tone oval buckle. She was greeted with the unexpected sound of silence. As she looked around she found the office to be vacant. She stepped up and set her drink from Kitty Cat Cappucino on the receptionist desk and wandered into the break room. Everything looked organized and in its place. She headed back out into the office area but still no one was at their desk. “Hello? Is anyone here? Hello?”

Suddenly, the door to Mr. Dupree’s office opened and Bexley heard whimpering. There was a light scuffling sound and then Mr. Dupree stepped outside his office and started descending the stairs. When he saw Bexley he said, “Looks like you’re back from vacation. And you got a little sun, I see.”

Bexley looked past him and saw Fia descending the stairs. In her arms she held a tiny Yorkshire Terrier puppy. The dog appeared to be a runt and had a bright red bow tied in its hair between its ears. “Is that yours, Fia?”

Fia looked at Bexley and her eyes widened. “It’s a gift,” she said.

“For whom?”

“I’m glad you’re back, Bexley,” Mr. Dupree said.

“Thank you, Dallas.” Bexley looked around at the empty office. “So…what did I miss?”

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: THE DIG (2021)-NETFLIX**

This Netflix original is a wonderful period piece about a widowed woman and her young son on the eve of WWII. It is well-directed by Simon Stone with a screenplay by Moira Buffini based on the novel of the same name by John Preston.

Edith Pretty (Carrie Mulligan) lives on a large estate in Sutton Hoo she and her deceased husband purchased that may be a site for an archeological excavation due to the large burial mounds on the property. Edith hires excavator and self-taught archeologist Basil Brown (Ralph Fiennes) to see what he can dig up there. Basil is hesitant at first because Edith is not able to pay him a large enough wage to cover his costs, but through the persistence of Edith’s young son Robert Pretty (Archie Barnes) and Edith’s offer to pay him a larger sum, he decides to give it a try.

After digging for a while Basil finds iron rivets which he believes may be from a ship that could date back to the Anglo Saxons and not the Vikings. Edith has the museum experts come in and they doubt Robert’s findings as such ships would be very old. Edith insists Basil continue leading the excavation and her cousin Rory Lomax (Johnny Flynn) is brought in to assist Basil. News of the dig reaches Cambridge archaeologist Charles Philips (Ken Stott) who declares the dig to be of national importance after Basil and Rory believe they have found a ship. Philips calls in the Office of Works to take over and brings in a larger team including newlyweds Stuart Ernest Piggott (Ben Chaplin) and Peggy Piggott (Lily James).

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty-Seven

October 24, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce chapter forty-seven of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week was calmer than last. I am looking forward to Halloween. I love to bark at the little munchkins who come to my door asking for treats. Being a Canis lupus familiaris I am aware of the importance of treats. And I sympathize profoundly with those who must dress in absurd clothing and go door to door asking for them. As a poodle I am frequently asked to do tricks for my treats. I find this most vulgar. I either must turn around in a circle or sit up or lie down or shake my novelist’s hand. Dreadful humiliation all of it. I should make my novelist do these inane acts for the treats I give her like keeping her on schedule, complimenting her on her writing, and telling her how to drive. She should demonstrate appreciation for my input. I have no idea where she would be without my suggestions. I will say she does not force me to dress as a hotdog or a ballerina for the upcoming holiday. She knows better than that. Although I am occasionally required to wear a Darth Vader hoodie when we go walking in colder weather. And with that thought, here is chapter forty-seven of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Oidhche Shamhna Shona Dhuit!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty-Seven

Lance rang the doorbell. “Cook? Cook? Hey, Cook?”

“We know you’re in there,” Irwin said.

“Why do people say, “I know you’re in there”? Like the person who’s in there doesn’t know the person who’s out there knows they’re in there.”

“Just try and open the door and see if he left it unlocked,” Grady said.

“What if its boobie trapped?” Irwin said.

“I’m not going to tell you to shut up again, Irwin,” Lance said. “Next time I’m just going to put my foot in your ass.”

Grady marched between the two men, opened the screen door and grabbed the doorknob. He turned it and it opened. “Told you.”

“It’s a trap,” Makenna said.

“Yeah, well, we’re going in.” Grady pushed the door open, and Lance and Irwin headed inside. Grady turned and looked at Makenna. Makenna looked at him then at the door. “Get in here.”

Makenna crossed her arms and eyeballed him. Then she followed him inside.

“This place has weird furniture,” Lance said walking over and sprawling on the lips couch. “Not as comfortable as I would have guessed.”

“Cook,” Grady yelled. “We know what you did. Come out here and let’s talk. We saw you drive here. We know you’re trying to make it look like we kidnapped Dupree’s daughter.” The four accountants waited for an answer but all they got was silence.

“He’s hiding,” Lance said.

Makenna stepped up to him. “Let’s get out of here.”

“No.”

“You’re a fool.” Makenna turned and headed for the door.

Lance rushed over and blocked her. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Did you hear that?” Irwin said.

“I didn’t hear anything—”

“Shh. Everyone shut up and listen.”

“It’s coming from upstairs.”

All the accountants except Makenna headed for the staircase.

“It’s a trap,” she said.

“Cook!” Lance yelled.

Makenna sided up to Grady. “You’re a smart guy. Let’s leave.”

“We’re all going up there, Makenna,” he said.

“Don’t do this.”

“Get going.”

Makenna narrowed her eyes and filed behind Grady. The four accountants headed up the steps. When they reached the second floor, they realized it was dark.

“This place creeps me out,” Irwin said.

“Cook!” Lance yelled down the hallway. But there was no answer. He cocked his head. “Did the music just stop?”

Everyone stopped and listened.

“No, no. I hear it again. Where is that coming from?”

“I think its one floor up,” Grady said. “Let’s go.” The motley crew headed up the stairs to the third floor which was even darker than the last. “There’s got to be a wall switch here somewhere.”

The accountants felt along the walls. “Here it is,” Lance said and flipped the switch. But the lights didn’t go on. “Great. Cook killed the electricity.

“Come on, Cook,” Grady yelled. “We just want to talk to you, man.”

“The music’s getting louder.”

“Maybe it’s because we’re closer to it,” Irwin said.

“I think it’s coming from over there,” Lance said pointing towards the attic door.

“Let’s head towards it and see what’s going on,” Grady said. The accountants headed in the direction of the attic. “This is it alright.” He reached out and felt around the surface of the door and found the knob. He turned it and pushed it open. The inside was as dark as the hallway except for the center of the room. It was lit up like a stage.

“Cook!” Lance called out.

The music stopped. After a beat a moody saxophone jazz started up. The accountants crept towards the lighted middle of the room. Standing there was a mannequin with long feathery red hair wearing a 70’s era disco gown. The gown had crystal beads on it that sparkled in the light.

“Weird,” Lance said.

Soap bubbles started to rise from the back of the figure.

“Weirder,” Irving said.

“Cook,” Grady called out. “Stop with the freakishness and come out here. We want to talk about Fia’s kidnapping and get to the bottom of this whole mess.”

“Look!”

Grady and Lance turned to look at what Irving was pointing to. A large bear had suddenly flopped over the mannequin. It waved its hand at them.

“Cook!” Grady yelled and walked around to the other side, but he found no one.

“Makenna’s right,” Lance said. Let’s just leave. Makenna? Makenna? Where’s Makenna?”

The three of them looked at each other and then around the space. Then they rushed towards the door.

“It’s locked,” Grady said attempting to turn the knob. “Makenna!”

Just then the three of them heard a motor revving up.”

“She’s stealing my minivan!” Grady said.

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: MARATHON MAN (1976)-SHOWTIME, PARAMOUNT+**

Is it safe? A question that will ring in your ears for days after watching this taunt, tense thriller that keeps its audience on the edge of its seat all the way until its final scene. This is not a traditional Halloween movie, as most Halloween movies these days seem to be squarely in the horror genre. But it is a fantastic study in suspense and a unique kind of cold-blooded terror. The picture is directed by John Schlesinger and written by William Golden based on his book of the same name.

Thomas “Babe” Levy (Dustin Hoffman) is a graduate student at Columbia University working on his post graduate history thesis. He is trying to help clear his father’s name. His father’s career was ruined by scandal involving the McCarthy hearings which caused Babe’s father to commit suicide. Babe is also an aspiring marathon runner who idolizes Jesse Owens and runs every day trying to beat his time. One day while studying at the library he meets another student Elsa Opal (Marthe Keller) who he believes is Swiss and falls in love with her.

Meanwhile in Paris, a CIA agent named Henry “Doc” Levy (Roy Scheider) realizes he and his fellow agents have become targets for an assassin. Doc is one of those guys with a particular set of skills. He confides in his friend, fellow agent Janeway (William Devane) about his concerns, especially after an assassin breaks into his hotel room.

And elsewhere, down in Paraguay a former Nazi and dentist named Dr. Christian Szell (Lawrence Olivier) also known as the “White Angel of Auschwitz” finds he must come out of hiding to protect his fortune after his brother is killed in a car accident in NYC.

How these three stories fit together is the premise for a genuinely disturbing story produced by The Kid Stays in the Picture himself, Robert Evans.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty-Five

October 11, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

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

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

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

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty-Five

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

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

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

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

“With the whole kidnapping matter.”

“Better than I anticipated.”

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

“I managed.”

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

“I think you might be underestimating my kidnapper.”

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

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

“Did they?”

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

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

Fia nodded. “I don’t doubt it.”

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

“How do you know?”

“She’s not under duress.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, I really feel sorry for you.”

“Just shut up and drive, would you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lance laughed. “This guy is rich.”

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

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

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

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

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

MY BOOKS

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

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

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

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

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty-Four

October 4, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

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

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty-Four

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

“How do you know?” Lance asked.

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

“Yuck! That stuff tastes like racoon fur.”

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

“What are we going to do?”

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

“You recorded him just now?”

“Absolutely.”

“I should have thought of that.”

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

“Follow him?”

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

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

“Then we’ll follow him again tomorrow.”

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

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

“Who’s going to drive?”

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

“Hey, Makenna—” Irwin started to say.

“Cook is onto us.”

“What?” Grady said.

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

“How?”

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

“I’m a good driver,” Irwin said.

“You can drive next time.”

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

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

“How does he know?”

“That’s what I aim to find out.”

“But why follow him home?” Irving asked.

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

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

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

“How?”

“That’s what I intend to find out.”

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

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

“But we didn’t.”

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

MY BOOKS

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

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

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

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

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty-Three

September 26, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

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

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty-Three

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

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

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

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

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

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

Makenna shook her head but didn’t answer.

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

“You got here fast,” Fia said.

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

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

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

“Just the same, I’d rather go alone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s something wrong with him.”

“You can say that again.”

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

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

“Bring me two.”

“You must be hungry.”

“Just bring me two.”

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

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

“Help him with what?”

“Probably the kidnapping case.”

“Why didn’t she tell me about it?’

“She didn’t want you to worry.”

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

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

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

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

“Set them down,” she told him.

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

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

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

“Have you bought a new dog yet?”

“Haven just died, Makenna.”

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

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

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

“The main thing is Fia’s safe.”

“Right.”

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

“Anytime.”

MY BOOKS

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

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

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

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

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Forty-Two

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

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

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Forty-Two

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

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

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

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

“I don’t follow.”

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

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

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

“That’s nuts.”

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

“We didn’t even steal anything.”

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

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

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

“Like what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I know. I read it.”

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

“Daddy, the attic was dark and-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy-”

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

MY BOOKS

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

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

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

Certified Sadistic Accountant: Chapter Thirty-Six

July 25, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

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

**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-Four

July 11, 2024 ~ 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

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.