This is an experimental Creative Write/Free write. I wrote this in the Hive.Pizza DiscordPizza Guild Discord while sharing my screen and asking for input/direction/whatever from the community. I think it will be an interesting way to construct a post and have no idea how this will turn out!
Rules!
They are few:
Anyone else in the voice channel's input overrides mine- I will type and incorporate ideas and input as I do- ANYONE in voice can make me edit or whatever!
Pizza Tips for participants throughout the event
Other than that this is a standard free writing format! So lets GOOOOOOO!
I sat wreathed in smoke. Thoughts whirring. Across the desk Clark Clarkenson sobbed out his life story. I didn't care. I just need the details. A forgotten cigarillo lay in my ashtray making it's own smoke rings as it burned to ash. Clark was missing something. He was working up to what. That's why he had risked coming to Shining Grits and finding my office. If you've lost something or someone and the fuzz can't help you come to me. I tuned back in to what Clarkenson was saying. It sounded like he was getting to the point. Finally.
"I followed her Richard..." I need to get the door fixed... I hate that damn sign... Richard Thektev was my father.
"Call me Dick" I had told him twice already. "What did you see?"
"I... I think she's cheating on me. She met someone outside a bar."
"What was the bar?" I picked up the half expired cigarillo from the ashtray and inhaled deeply.
"It was called Scribe and Scholar. I'd never even heard of it. Drove past it a bunch though. It's right across the bridge to Gahbaje. Seemed a little seedy for the area but nice enough. They must've been in there for a couple hours."
"Wait wait. That name sounds familiar." I'd heard the name before. Maybe a couple of cases ago... wasn't I following that cop? Yeah... Officer Howard. He was cheating on his wife too. "I think I've been there before Clarkenson. I don't know it well though." As I spoke I exhaled and increased the haze in the air. Suddenly Clarkenson straightened up.
"You have to follow her Dick!" He finally got the name right. Maybe he wasn't such a chump after all. I tipped my hat back and rolled up my sleeves, leaning forward over the desk to meet Clarkensons eyes.
"I'll follow her Clarkenson. I can't promise you'll like what I find though. These things almost always end how you think..." I clasped his shoulder. I needed to know if he could handle it when I had to tell him what I found. Maybe he was tough enough after all.
"I just have to know Dick. I want to trust her... I love her! But I have to know." As sappy as it was to hear I get it. Even a life on the beat hadn't burned my bacon... yet. The paperwork tries...
"Alright Clarkenson I'll take the case. I need a number I can reach you at once these eggs are boiled." I had eggs on the brain... Shouldn't skip breakfast to meet with clients I guess.
"What eggs?" He asked... Maybe he was a chump after all.
"Nevermind the eggs Clarkenson. What else can you tell me about the guy she met at the bar?"
"He looked pretty hard boiled. Pulled up in an old Volvo station wagon. Seemed in good condition though. The wood paneling was shiny. You could tell he takes care of it. The bouncer let them straight in. Skipped the line and everything. Don't know what to tell you about the bar... Weird name though right?"
"Yeah... Scribe and Scholar was it? Definitely a weird name..." I picked up the cigarillo again but it had burned out. The empty pack laughed at me from the desk. Even if this case was runny I had to take it. Cigarillo's ain't cheap. Not to mention eggs. Rent was due for the office too.
"Alright Clarkenson I'm on it! I'll take a retainer up front. There's some leg work to do so I don't know what the bill will be but 1 Eth ought to be enough to get me cookin'." Even if it seemed like this case would go over easy I had a hunch it wouldn't be quite so soft boiled. Clarkenson stumped up the Eth without complaint and offered me a cigarette while we waited for the transaction. He must have noticed the empty pack on the desk. I took the cigarette and added to the haze in the room once more. Clarkenson lit up as well and we smoked in silence for a moment. He had a rotten look on his face and I knew he was hiding something. That much Eth was ludicrous for a case like this. This was my golden goose.
"You got anything else I should know about?" I didn't expect an answer. He didn't give one. My phone buzzed confirming the payment.
"Well... Where should I contact you when I've cracked this case?"
"E-mail me at clark@clarkenmail.son"
"Eggmail?"
"I said e-mail... what's with the eggs?"
"What eggs?" We stared at each other and Clarkenson ran his fingers through his thinning hair as if to check whether it was still there.
"Well... Good luck Dick."
"I'll be in touch Humpty." With that Clarkenson looked at me strangely one last time and left the office slamming his hat back onto his head as he did.
Later that day I was casing Scribe and Scholar with my trusty hip flask of homebrewed 'nog and an egg burrito. I wasn't too worried about being spotted. I planned to go into the bar anyway after I finished eating. It was still early so it was practically empty. There was a bouncer on the door anyway. Standing dead center like a spider in the center of it's web. Strange. I finished the burrito quickly and headed across the street to go inside.
"Who're you?" He asked, preparing to wrap me in silk and toss me aside for later.
"I just need a top up on my eggnog." I shook the empty flask at him and mimed tears.
"OK... What were you doing sitting in your car staring at the bar?"
"Eating an egg burrito."
"You mean a breakfast burrito?" He looked confused. It was 2 in the afternoon after all.
"No I mean an egg burrito. An egg burrito is scrambled eggs wrapped in an omelet... OBVIOUSLY." I couldn't believe I had to explain something so self explanatory. This guy was one short of a dozen for sure.
"You gonna let me in or what, Eggbert? I'm thirsty!" He sighed and stepped aside, his web parted before me and I entered Scribe and Scholar.
I sidled up to the bar and ordered a fresh 'nog, taking in my surroundings and keeping an eye on the few drunks that were already half fried and scrambled at booths and tables around the place. Messy like a Frittata and half as savory a bunch I thought as I considered the information I had dug up before heading to case the place. One of my sources told me the place was co owned by a couple of "former" mobsters known as Scribe and Scholar. Hence the name. The two had an interesting history and I was able to dig up a ton of dirt once I knew where to look.
Scholar got sucked in to the mob at an early age and started from the bottom. He worked his way up as a messenger boy and dealer on the streets before they realized he had a real talent for violence and started sending him on collections and protection rackets. He thrived. Most of Gahbaje knew his name back then. Too well in fact. The cops couldn't leave him on the street even though they'd been paid. He ended up doing some serious time for a list of crimes too long to mention. Mostly violent though. A rap sheet as wide as the gap between his mother's teeth.
Apparently he found God in prison. He read the bible and any philosophical or religious text he could get his hands on. He got ordained as a minister and it seems he really changed his ways. He was released a couple of years early for good behavior. Now he runs the Toy's for Gun's "non-profit" program to help reduce violence on the streets. At least that's how it looks on paper. There have been a slew of reports that it isn't what it seems but no one can prove anything. Besides he has the protection of the church now. He runs Scribe and Scholar with his partner, Scribe. Another former mobster with a long and dark history.
He killed a guy with a quill.
