Something is Amuck

August 7, 2025 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here and I must tell you I sense something is amuck. My novelist is eyeing her suitcase and carryon. This is never a good thing. She must be planning a trip which means I likely won’t be going with her. I could not sleep on the bed last night. I jumped down and went to the living room and lay in the recliner. It took me a long time to fall asleep and when I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see the sun streaming in the window. I headed outside and had a discussion with Bernard D. Bunny as he often rises early. He was nibbling on grass when I found him. I told him about my concerns, and he listened intently. He asked me about the last time I was dropped off at the canine resort about a year ago and I went in depth about all the horrifying details. He said, but you survived, and she came back and took you home. And I said yes, but that it was unbearably lonely, and I had to spend my days with some rather shady characters, though I did have a private room at night. He said if she is going to do the same thing again, she would indeed return to pick me up and I should consider the time apart from her to be an adventure. And a time to work on my blog story. I made it perfectly clear I did not like adventures as much as I relished order and control. Bernard said I would find a way to maintain order and control even if that order and control was only over myself. I nodded and thanked him for his wisdom. But still, I sense something is amuck, and I am most displeased. I will keep you posted. 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: WOLFS (2024) APPLE TV+**

If you are looking for something light, fun and exciting to stream this summer, this is the movie for you. Originally this motion picture was supposed to come out in theatres in a wide release but then was given a limited release and streamed on Apple TV+. I can see where the film would have looked great on the big screen, especially the whimsical chase scene which is great. And I honestly wish it had gotten a wider release. That said I think a lot of folks will have a blast streaming it, what with its fun albeit twist driven script penned by director Jon Watts and terrific performances from its stars.

We start out somewhere in uptown Manhattan with the sound of breaking glass and many expletives from a female character. As the camera draws us closer, we find district attorney Margaret (Amy Ryan) in a panic and running around a high-end hotel suite. She is panicked as she attempts to call someone on her cell phone. She tells the person on the other end she was supposed to call them if she was ever in serious trouble…which she is.

We find out the person she is calling is in a private phone booth in a questionable bar somewhere else in the city. We soon meet Margaret’s Man (George Clooney), a highly seasoned cooler than ice professional cleaner who drives to her hotel and proceeds to clean up Margaret’s problem, a college aged young man known only as the Kid (Austin Abrams) who has fallen off the bed, crashed through a glass drinks cart and is lying motionless on the floor. As Margaret’s Man attempts to go about his job cleaning up the mess, there is a knock at the door. Margaret and Margaret’s Man are confused by this, but the ever cool as a cucumber Margaret’s Man tells her to answer the door casually. She does and to both their surprise in walks another cleaner who turns out to be Pam’s Man (Brad Pitt). Pamela Dowd-Herdry (voiced by Frances McDormand) has recently acquired the hotel and the last thing she needs is controversy. She witnessed the whole thing from a camera in the hotel room. She wants both Margaret’s Man and Pam’s Man to work together to clean up the mess and solve her problem. The two men are skeptical at first but begrudgingly agree to do so. But as they do, unexpected and bizarre events begin pop up which put the pair into continually deeper hot water.

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-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 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.

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 Thirty-One

June 20, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

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

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Thirty-One

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

“Are you sick or something?”

“No.”

“Because you look sick or something.”

“I’m not sick or something.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe.”

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

“Interesting.”

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

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

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

“No.”

“It would be cheaper for you.”

“It would be a longer drive to work.”

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

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

“You could boarder with your Aunt Odette.”

“No.”

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

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

“It would be closer to work.”

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

“Your aunt does it.”

“That’s because she’s crazy.”

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

“Let’s hope not,” Curtis grumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

“The attic?”

“Yeah, I’ll just run up and get it.”

“You can’t!”

“Why not?”

“There’s…a squirrel up there.”

“A squirrel?”

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

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

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

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

“And I have a profound fear of squirrels.”

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

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

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

“Just let me go up and get it.”

“With your profound fear of squirrels?”

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

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

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

“Maybe you need to change occupations.”

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

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

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: THE RIGHTEOUS GEMSTONES (2019)-HBO MAX**

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

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

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Twenty-Six

May 16, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good afternoon. It is I Gigi the parti poodle here to introduce Chapter Twenty-Six of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. This week my novelist and I thought it might be fun to list one dozen of the original motion picture scores that we enjoy listening to when we write. Our criteria being the scores must be almost exclusively instrumentals and they must have been original music written for the film. Here they are in alphabetical order:

American Beauty by Thomas Newman
Drive by Cliff Martinez. This one is still in print.
Fire Walk With Me by Angelo Baldalamenti. This one is still in print.
Memories of Murder by Taro Iwashiro
Rocky by Bill Conti. This one is still in print.
Rounders by Christopher Young
Secretary by Angelo Baldalamenti.
Sex, Lies and Videotape by Cliff Martinez
Sideways by Rolfe Kent
Taxi Driver by Bernard Herman. This one is still in print.
The Game by Howard Shore
Vertigo by Bernard Herman. This one is still in print.

As an honorable mention I will list Bubba Ho Tep by Brian Tyler and make this a baker’s dozen. This is a great score especially the tracks “All is Well” and “The King’s Highway”.

In addition, as a toy parti poodle I would like to extend an exuberant congratulations to Sage the miniature poodle who won the Best In Show at the Westminster Dog Show this week. This was a huge victory for the poodle pack worldwide. Here she is:

And with that here is chapter twenty-six of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. May the Poodles be with you.

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Twenty-Six

“I’ll help,” Fia said rising from her chair and heading into the kitchen where Curtis was loading the dishwasher.

“There’s not much to do,” he said slipping the table knives into the silverware caddy.

“I’d rather be useful than bored.”

Curtis reached up and grabbed a small whisk broom and dustpan set. “You can sweep the table,” he said handing them to her. Her arm brushed against his leg as she did. Curtis felt a shiver run across his skin. A comfortable pleasant shiver. He looked down at her shiny hair and wondered what it felt like. “Thank you,” he said, his knuckle grazing hers as he took the set from her hand and put it back up on the hook.

“So, what are we doing today?”

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t go to work today so what are we doing instead?”

“I need to get this ransom note delivered.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s my priority.”

“Okay, fine. If you don’t mind, I’d like to continue working on my project in the attic today.”

“What project?”

“My performance art piece.”

“Your performance art piece?”

“Your aunt has a lot of wonderful things in her attic. I didn’t realize how much it was until I got into some of the cabinets and boxes. Do you want to see what I’ve put together so far?”

Curtis thought he’d very much like to see what she’d put together so far. “I do not want to interrupt your work.”

“What do you mean? You would be helping me. I could use an audience at this point in the process.”

“I…would be delighted.”

“Why don’t I work up in the attic and you figure out your ransom note situation.”

Curtis nodded. “Alright,” he said and closed the door to the dishwasher.

After Curtis let Fia in the attic and locked the door, he went downstairs to his Aunt Odette’s office. He closed the door, sat down at the desk, and put his head in his hands. How exactly was he going to deliver that ransom note to the Dupree residence?

He could drive to the town just beyond the lake. There was a trading post there he could Fed Ex the letter to. He’d just pay cash, and no one would be the wiser. The only concern was the surveillance camera. If he could recognize Lance on his system, surely, they could recognize him on theirs. He would need to find a way to go incognito. But he needed to hurry because they likely closed at one on Saturdays. He thought about what Fia said about the clothes in the attic. Maybe there were some stored up there he could use. He grabbed the keys and headed up the stairs.

“Fia,” he said knocking on the attic door. “I need some help.”

“What’s the matter?” she said.

He unlocked the door and opened it. He saw she had the place set up like a black box theatre.

“What do you need?”

“I need some men’s clothes. I think Aunt Odette went through a menswear phase when I was a kid.”

“Okay…yeah. I think she did have some men’s clothing in that trunk over there,” she said pointing to a large vintage steamer trunk.

“Fantastic.” He made a beeline for the trunk. He unlatched it and opened the lid. He lifted out the full-length drawer inside that was snapped shut and set it on the floor. Inside were tailored suits, shirts, and hats.

“What do you need these clothes for? They look like they’re from the 70’s or something.”

“I have to go somewhere.”

“I thought you had to take care of the ransom note.”

“That’s where I’m going.”

“Are you sure these will fit you?”

“They’ll have to.”

“But you wear a suit to the office.”

“Not like these things.”

Fia studied him. “You want some help figuring out what to wear?”

Curtis stopped rifling through the trunk and considered her proposal. “Sure.”

Fia walked over to the trunk, knelt, and nudged him aside. She picked up a blue dress shirt and held it up against him. “This one matches your eyes,” she said.

Curtis watched her face as she studied the shirt before handing it to him, crawling over and unsnapping the drawer he’d taken out. She opened it to find a collection of silk ties, belts, tie bars, and cufflinks.

“Wow,” she said. These are some seriously wide ties. This one is snazzy.”

She picked up a silk tie with a gradation of three bold blue stripes. There was a black semicircle to the side with the rest of the length of the tie a golden tan. “Hold the shirt up against you again,” she said. He held it up and she laid the tie against it. He felt the back of her hand against his chest. Another shiver ran across his skin. “That doesn’t look half bad. Let’s pick out a jacket.” She lifted out a stack of folded shirts and set them aside. Then she pulled out a tan jacket and a blue one. “You know, I think the tan jacket looks pretty good, actually. Try it on.”

Curtis unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. Fia noticed he wore a t-shirt underneath. He didn’t look half bad in it, she surmised. He put the blue dress shirt on over the T-shirt and began buttoning it up. Fia stood up and put the tie around his neck and started tying it. Curtis studied her as she did. She had creamy skin with childlike rosiness still in her cheeks.

Fia slipped the tie through the knot and tightened it. “There,” she said. “That looks good.”

“Thanks.”

“Put on the jacket.”

He swung the jacket over his shoulders, slid his arms through, straightened the lapels, and studied the hats. He grabbed a grey and white hound’s tooth fedora and put it on.

“You know what?” Fia said. “Let me style your hair. Give it a retro look.”

“Just hold still,” Fia said as Curtis sat on a wooden stool in the bathroom as Fia styled his hair with a curling iron. She took another section of his hair and rolled it up with the iron.

“I look stupid,” Curtis said studying his reflection in the mirror.

“Men got perms in the 70’s. My mom told me about it. My grandpa had one.”

“How long does the curl last?”

“A day maybe. If you wash your hair its gone.”

“Just one more section here.” She took the last of his hair and rolled it in the silver rod. She held it there for a moment and then released it. “There. What do you think?”

Curtis studied the results. “Bizarre.”

“I think you look 70’s cool. Stand up.” She set the curing iron on the counter and studied him. “Where are you going?”

“Let’s get you back to the attic so you can work on your performance art piece. Maybe tonight I can see you perform what you have.”

“Sounds good.”

Curtis nodded. “Wish me luck.”

Fia reached up and ran her fingers along his silk tie. “I could really use a flashlight up there. I would like to use it in my piece.”

“My aunt has one in her bedroom. I’ll get it for you.”

“Thank you,” Fia said. She turned off the curling iron and left it on the counter to cool.

They left the bathroom and headed for the master bedroom. “She always kept one by her bedside,” Curtis said moving over to the bedside table and opening the drawer. “It’s small but its mighty.” He reached in and pulled out a small flashlight. He pointed it at the wall and turned it on. “Yep,” he said. “Works.” Then he handed the flashlight to Fia.

“This is perfect.”

“I look forward to seeing it in your show. Now, let’s get you back to the attic.”

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: THE ZONE OF INTEREST (2023)-HBO MAX**

Evil comes in different forms. And one of them is indifference. This film is not for everyone. Not because it has explicit violence but because we never see violence. Violence is left to the imagination. And that’s what makes it chilling. But there is no doubt it is there, just on the other side of a wall that boarders on a beautiful piece of property in Poland. There are children, and lush gardens and flowers, and a clean airy house. And the house is filled with lovely things most of which were stolen off the dead burned bodies of Jews who were killed on the other side of the wall. We see the smoke, hear the screams and the gunfire. We even witness the ash used to help the gardens flourish. And the family, kids included, know exactly what’s going on. They know because they see the steam of the trains constantly coming in and the relentless smoke from the buildings filling the air. But they do not care. They are too interested in their treasures like long fur coats and French perfume and teeth filled with gold. They are happy with their lives and have no problem with the fact that it comes with the incineration of millions of men, women, and children next door in Auschwitz.

This is a stark film brilliantly directed by Jonathon Glazer who, despite the fact I adore Christopher Nolen, maybe should have taken the Oscar here. Not to mention the marvelous cinematography by Lukasz Zal. There are little to no close ups in the film. The audience is kept at a distance throughout because what we are viewing are soulless people, psychopathic people, with no real human emotion, save the wife’s mother who, while visiting the family has an epiphany. And it allows the audience to see the bigger picture. It forces us to step back and examine how to never let it happen again. The film is based on the book The Zone of Violence by Martin Amis who co-wrote the script with Glazer. The movie differs greatly from the book, which has more of a love story woven into it. There is no love story here.

Certified Sadistic Accountant Chapter Twenty-Four

May 3, 2024 ~ gigicatchesair ~ Leave a comment

Good evening. My name is Gigi the parti poodle and I was running a bit late, but I am here and ready to introduce chapter twenty-four of my story Certified Sadistic Accountant. As you may know, last week my novelist and I were more than happy to find out Foreigner is finally going to be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I was so excited about it I decided to pen ala Weird Al and Twisted Tunes, a different take on one of the group’s biggest songs. Here it goes,

Well, I’m, hot mailing

Click it and see

I’ve got a letter burning inside of me

Come on baby, do you do more than text?

I’m hot mailing, I’m hot mailing

You don’t have to read my font

To know what I really want

Honey, you ought to scroll

Now you type so fine

Let me read another line

I want to see

What attachment you’re sending me

Now it’s up to you

We can leave a bad product review

Just me and you

I’ll show you trolling like you never knew

That’s why I’m hot mailing

Click it and see

I’ve got a letter burning inside of me

Come on baby, do you do more than text?

I’m hot mailing, I’m hot mailing

If it feels alright

Maybe we could Zoom all night.

Shall I send you my link?

But you’ve got to click on that key.

Come on, girl. Click the send key.

Tell me, are you hot mailing?

Inbox looks that way to me.

Are you old enough?

Will you be phishing when I call your bluff?

Is my texting right?

Will you send your dirty pics tonight?

Well I’m, hot mailing

Click it and see

I’ve got a letter burning inside of me

Come on baby, do you do more than text?

I’m hot mailing, I’m hot mailing

Now it’s up to you

We can write a bad product review

Oh, before we do

You’ll have to block and unfriend you know who

Well, I’m, hot mailingI

Click it and see

I’ve got a letter burning inside of me

Come on baby do you do more than text

I’m hot mailing, I’m hot mailing

Hot mailing, every night

Hot mailing, you’re emoji’s so tight

Hot mailing, you’re texting me wild

Hot mailing, I’m so sexting you, child

Hot mailing, I’m a little bit geek

Hot mailing, you’re a little bit freaked

Hot mailing, you’re making me pog

Hot mailing, for your sweet, sweet blog

Did you read what I wrote?

And with that thought, here is chapter twenty-four of Certified Sadistic Accountant. Rock on!

Certified Sadistic Accountant

by

Gigi the parti poodle

Chapter Twenty-Four

Curtis huddled in his breakfast nook watching his round vintage-style wall clock. His clock had a silent sweep non-ticking quartz movement. But he heard the seconds marking off time in his head. He’d been sitting there for almost two hours hoping the police officer hadn’t followed him and was parked outside. His plan was to leave in a few minutes and blend in with traffic. However, it was Saturday and there wouldn’t be many cars on the road until around ten or eleven. He sipped the coffee he’d made with his espresso machine. Mr. Dupree was right about one thing: coffee should be made with whole beans and ground to order.

For some reason he started wondering what happened to all the coffee grounds once they were used and discarded. He figured some ended up being spared and turned into potting soil. But how many ended up in garbage dumps paved over with a golf course built on top? All those grounds trapped like prisoners with no dirt to fertilize. They would sit there for decades, centuries even. Curtis took another sip of his coffee. If he’d just not fallen asleep, he would have made it to the mailbox in the middle of the night. Maybe even beat the prowler. The policeman wouldn’t have walked up to his car and asked for his license and registration. He looked at the second hand on the clock. It glided past twelve. After it glided past twelve again, he would get up and leave.

When Curtis had pulled into his driveway at 6:40 AM, he’d noticed the red Ford Fiesta still parked in Earl’s driveway. Maybe his neighbor wasn’t as lonesome as he thought. The second-hand glided past twelve. He rose from the table and quietly stepped outside. As he turned to lock the door to his duplex, Earl and the woman with the long dark brown hair, short skirt and tennis shoes stepped outside onto Earl’s porch as well. Curtis told himself to act naturally as if he was heading off to do something ordinary for the weekend. He would not greet them. He would let them greet him first, act like he was focused on his normal weekend plans. Oddly, all Earl did was wave and after a moment Curtis realized Earl and the woman were not on friendly terms. There was tension between them. Curtis waved back, climbed into his pale green Honda Accord, and backed out into the street.

Curtis looked around the neighborhood as he headed for the main arterial. He scanned the streets trying to see if anyone was following him. He didn’t see any police prowlers around. He checked his rearview mirror. No one was behind him. He continued forwards.

He pulled up to the stop light to turn right onto the street that headed towards the mall. He turned on the radio and when he looked up in the rearview mirror, he saw a police car. Curtis froze, rattled. Breathe deep, he told himself. Just drive. Curtis gripped the steering wheel tightly; he flipped on the turn signal as his eyes peered to the left to see if anyone was coming. He turned cautiously and headed down the hill. He looked up in his rearview mirror. The prowler was on his tail. Curtis drove at the speed limit. Take it easy, he told himself. Stay nonchalant. Down the hill, past the eateries, and on to the mall. The prowler kept right on his tail. Stay calm and think, he told himself.

As he drove forwards, he saw the lights on the railroad track come on. He slowed to a stop and checked the rearview mirror. The prowler’s tinted windows made it difficult to see the driver. The sound of the train’s signal was deafening. He wondered if the officer was taking down his license plate as he waited for the train to pass.

As the last car went by, Curtis noticed another prowler sitting on the opposite side of the tracks. His heart began beating faster. He waited for the bar to lift. Then he crawled over the tracks and continued forwards. The prowler on the opposite side passed him and made a right turn towards the little lunch shack at the end of the street. The prowler behind him continued following his Honda. Curtis decided he was being paranoid. There were police cars everywhere. He was overthinking what happened last night.

Curtis drove over the bridge and out towards the mall. He glanced in his rearview mirror. He saw a second prowler two cars back. Did the other prowler turn around and start following him? He was tempted to speed up, but the first police car was right on his tail. He passed the mall and headed towards the turnoff to the lake. He stopped at the light. He looked around to see if there were any other police cars. Then he turned right and continued towards the lake. The police prowler turned with him. And after a moment the other prowler turned and stayed behind him as well. He needed an alternate destination.

He would head back and stop at the gas station. He drove a couple of blocks and then got into the right turn lane. He saw the two prowlers merge into the right turn lane behind him. He continued down the road to the gas station across from the mall and pulled in. As he did the two prowlers drove past the gas station and back the way he’d come. Were they on to him, Curtis thought?

Mr. Dupree set Sheriff Bob’s coffee and biscotti on the dining room table.

“Thanks, Dal,” Sheriff Bob said. It’s been a long night.”

“Did we receive a second ransom note giving us further instructions?”

“No, we did not.”

“Did your guy out there see anyone?”

“Just some twenty-something kid coming home from a date.”

“Is your guy sure that’s what he was doing?”

“Nope. That’s why he took down the kid’s license and registration. We’ll run it through our system to see if his name comes up with anything. I also had another one of my guys follow him to his house.”

“My daughter could be lying in a ditch somewhere.”

“Or not. You need to keep your head here, Dal.”

“Fia has been gone an entire day. Almost two.”

Mrs. Dupree walked into the dining room. She was a visible wreck but kept her composure. “Do you have any leads?” she asked.

“None yet,” Sheriff Bob said. “There was a young man the officer saw parked out on the street early this morning. My guy got his license and registration. We’ll run it through our system. Probably won’t come up with anything but you never know.”

Mrs. Dupree nodded. “It isn’t like Fia to disappear for days like this.”

“Do you think it’s possible she ran into some friends from high school on spring break too? A lot of them are around town right now.”

“No, Fia was supposed to be taking the place of Dallas’s receptionist who went to Palm Springs this week. Fia was excited about the job and is a responsible young woman. She would not just take off.”

Sheriff Bob took another sip of his coffee. “Do you know if she was seeing anyone?”

“No…although she did always like that kid who was in marching band.”

“She did not,” Mr. Dupree snapped.

“Yes, Dallas, she did.”

“He was an odd little troll. Always wearing vests. You got to look out for boys who wear vests.”

Mrs. Dupree rolled her eyes. “But I still don’t think she ran off with friends or went to see a boy.”

“So, you believe the ransom note to be legitimate?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Sheriff Bob nodded. “I’m going to have my guy head home in another hour. I’ll send a new one to watch from the house. I think we need to consider doing a stakeout.”

MY BOOKS

**STREAM OF THE WEEK: THE PEZ OUTLAW (2022)-NETFLIX**

It’s always a pleasure to come across a documentary that is fun and engaging to watch and this week’s pick fits the bill. This is one of those biographical stories that screams out to be made into a major motion picture. I can’t imagine any actor who wouldn’t want the lead role. And his wife Kathy, son Josh and the villain would be stellar parts too.

Steve Glew is a bit of an oddball. But he’s smart and always thinking of ways to make money. When he was younger, he used to buy kid’s cereals (the more sugar the better) and send away for free items advertised on the back of the box. He ordered so many of them the cereal companies had to start printing “one item per customer”. Steve is a collector himself…of the cereal boxes. But as for the toys, he sold those at toy conventions as a side-hustle. It was a way to make extra money since his 9-5 job as a machinist, an occupation which he was clearly over-qualified for, didn’t pay nearly as well.

Then one day he found the holy grail of small toys: the Pez dispenser. And he had to get his hands on them. A lot of them. And he did…in Russia. He found that the factories there made Pez dispensers the United States Pez company rejected. But these rejected toys were worth thousands to American collectors. Thus began Steve’s odyssey as a smuggler of Pez dispensers and the egomaniac US Pez CEO, better known as the “Pezident”, who would do whatever it took to stop him.

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.