Summer's here and it's really hot outside! It's time for a summer story! I can feel it! As mentioned in the previous article I am going to write a... Spicy Detective story this summer!
My take on it will be to try and keep the tenets and precepts of the genre but I will attempt to bring the genre into a more modern setting. The crime that our detective will be dealing with won't be things from the nineteen hundreds but crime that only exists in today's fast-paced world.
Yes, my take, will be to write a pure spicy detective story but set in the modern day of 2026... people won't talk like gangsters from the 1940s... they will talk like people who live in 2026... and the crime that is perpetrated will be one that everyone in our convenient modern society can easily relate to.
For, in this modern day world of ours where millions upon millions of packages are delivered to front porches around this great continent to millions upon millions of people, we can all relate to a certain crime... and that's... package theft!
In our story our brash, brazen, and spicy detective shall be dealing with a... porch pirate who is stealing packages in a suburban neighborhood!
That's a relatable-to premise? No?
This story will be shorter and lighter than the others I've written. I doubt there will be multiple volumes like the previous ones.
Alright, let's begin...
The Babylon Thief
-a short-story by D.
Clear Point, a beautiful suburb in upstate New Jersey, was idealistic in the summer. The summer's sun cast a soft, enveloping, warmth across the quaint hamlet. Men wiped sweat from their furrowed brows as they worked long days in the heat, women were noticeably starting to wear less-and-less clothing and were walking around town in halter-tops or even just bikini tops for all to see in broad daylight, children ran amok through sprinklers to stay cool, and old men played checkers and chess in the park.
It was a suburban heaven. Crime was low to non-existent, everyone knew each other, and life was quiet, peaceful, and nice. Everyone in Clear Point was happy and the whole town was currently greatly enjoying the summer.
Inside their climate controlled apartment with their air conditioner turned to full blast was a young couple. They had been together for a short time but were pretty decently in love with each other. Curtis was an affable fellow, of the age of 23, and Megan was his sexy girlfriend, age of 22, she was frying up some home fries and pan seared hamburgers while he played online video games.
"My video card is too slow!" whined Curtis as his online video game lagged and he lost again as usual... because he was bad at it.
"So buy a new one!" replied Megan from the kitchen as sweat slowly dripped off of her face as she flipped the intricately-cut potato wedges in her frying pan.
"I can't! I maxed out my credit card! I spent all my money at the grocery store!" continued to whine Curtis.
"Just use mine, then. I just signed up for Babylon Prime too... I get, like, free shipping, on, like, everything now," said Megan as she threw a greasy, meaty, and succulent burger onto the pan which made a sizzling sound as grease almost spat up and almost landed on her pink tank top.
"Oh ya!? Okay, good... what's your Babylon account called again and what's the password?" asked Curtis.
"It's sexaygurl446@slotmail.com and the password is IheartCurtis! Capital 'I' and capital 'C'." replied Megan as she slowly flipped the burger in the pan which was perfectly cooked on the first side. It was getting so hot in the kitchen in front of the stove so she, also, slowly, wiped some sweat off of her forehead with the bottom of her tank top.
"Okay cool, thanks," said Curtis as he logged off of his online video game and logged into Megan's Babylon account to order a new video card for his computer.
"Oh my god... it's getting really hot in here..." said Megan as she perfectly cooked the other-side of a hamburger to complete perfection.
"I found one for seven hundred bucks, okay babe?" said Curtis.
"Seven hundred bucks for a video card!? What the fuck!?" responded Megan in shock and anger.
"It's too late, I already ordered it... it'll be here... tomorrow morning!? Wow! That's fast!" said Curtis as he totally ignored her complaint about the price of his new computer component.
"Yeah, you get next-day, porch-side, expedited, and free shipping on all orders if you get a Prime account," answered Megan, already giving up her protest of the price of the video card, for she knew her qualms would only fall on deaf ears, and that her protest was futile when it came to Curtis and his online gaming compulsions.
"You're the best! Thanks for letting me use your credit card to buy a new video card... I love you so much... are the burgers ready yet?" asked Curtis.
"Yeah..." sighed Megan as she wiped more sweat from her forehead.
The young couple ate and turned in for the night. The burgers and home fried french fries were very delicious for Megan had added American cheese, pickles, ketchup, and salt and pepper to the burgers and spiced up the fries with onion salt and a healthy dose of smooth and silky ketchup. The next morning when Curtis checked the front stoop of their apartment building... to his dismay... there was no package in sight.
"What the fuck!? Is this some kind of sick joke!? Where the fuck is my package! Where is my parcel!? Where is my shit, Babylon!? Where's my thing, Babylon!" exclaimed Curtis in a clamor.
He quickly ran back inside to his cool apartment to check the status of his order on Megan's account... it said.. signed, sealed... and delivered... TODAY!
"MEGAN! WAKE UP! MY VIDEO CARD ISN'T HERE!" cried Curtis like a damned man-baby.
Megan, threw off the silky sheets, threw on a loose-fitting white halter top, and went to see what Curtis was belly-aching about.
"It's, like, 10:45... in the morning... what the hell are you yelling about? I wanted to sleep in today..." sighed Megan.
"Babylon says my package was delivered ten MINUTES ago!" began screaming the frustrated Curtis.
"So?" replied Megan rubbing her sleepy eyes while throwing back her sleek brown hair.
"So!? IT'S NOT HERE! I went out to the stoop, like, five minutes ago and it wasn't there!" whined Curtis as he was suffering a crisis over not receiving his video card.
"Call customer service..." mumbled Megan as she went back to bed.
Curtis found the number for Babylon customer service on Megan's account, took out his cell phone, and started to enter the corresponding numbers he saw on his computer screen into his cell phone. After a few rings... someone answered.
"Good morning! Welcome to Babylon Customer Service! Your call may be monitored by top security professionals and will be recorded! Press one to accept these terms and continue!" said a voice so joyful, almost too joyful, that it sounded like the voice in your car's GPS when it tells you to turn right at the light, thought Curtis.
"Yes... I ordered a video card... uhh... and it says on the track-your-package thing that it was delivered to my stoop like ten minutes ago but it's, like, NOT HERE, so?" asked Curtis.
"Please enter the 24 digit tracking code for your package into your phone... now," explained the customer service agent who was very likely not human.
Curtis found the code and entered it into his cell phone...
"Thank you for your patience, be aware that Babylon values your patronage and values you as a customer, our motto is Heal Our Earth One Single Package at a Time... a service representative will be available shortly to respond to specific complaint. If this message was helpful, please press one now," said the automated message.
Curtis didn't press anything as very-light muzak began playing in his cell phone as he waited for a human to come on the phone. Many a minute past as the muzak gently soothed his heart, mind, and ears. Finally, after several more minutes, a voice came on his cell phone...
"Hello, my name is Gwaran, I have access to your tracking number of 4691352-9004501-0-124-567124 and would like to help you today," said the human voice to Curtis.
"Yeah, uuuuuh, yeah... uhhhh... my video card didn't get delivered, so, uhhhhh...." informed Curtis to the Babylon representative.
"Yes, it did. Please check the attached photo in your account. The delivery agent submitted a photograph of the package on your stoop at 10:35 in the morning of today. The photo is available to you in your Babylon account... please check the side-bar for packages in transit to see the photo of your delivered parcel, thank you," said Gwaran the representative.
Curtis found the packages in transit tab on the side-bar of his sexy girlfriend's Babylon account and did indeed see a photo of his parcel on his stoop with a time-stamp of 10:35 am listed with the photo.
"What the fuck!? But, bro, where did it go!?" asked Curtis.
"That...I do not know. Sir, if a porch thief has managed to apprehend your parcel it is not a matter for us but a matter for the police, thank you very much, our motto is Heal Our Earth One Single Package at a Time, have a wonderful and eventful day, sir, goodbye," politely said Gwaran.
Curtis was incensed with a rage that burned through his body like a violent forest fire of total indignation! Someone stole his package! Somebody stole his video card! What the fuck, he thought to himself. What the fuck, indeed.
"Babe! What's the number for the police!?" Curtis asked Megan in a panic.
"Are you joking?" replied Megan as she snapped on a pair of tight black yoga-pants in the bedroom.
"No," said Curtis.
"It's nine, one, one! You don't know that!?" angrily retorted Megan as she checked herself out in the mirror to see if her tight black yoga-pants were hugging the lower-half of her well-toned body correctly... which they were.
"Uh NO! I actually DON'T! Okay? I grew up in Clear Point, the suburbs, I didn't grow up in Atlantic City like you did, okay? I've never had to call the police in my entire life! Okay?" frantically said Curtis as he continued to have a meltdown over not receiving his video card.
"Just because you've never had to call the police before doesn't mean you shouldn't know what the police's phone number is! Everyone knows the police's phone number!" stated Megan as she pulled her white halter-top ever-so-slightly downward to hug her ample bosom even-more accurately.
"Are you sure it's noine, wun, wun?" Curtis asked to be sure he was calling the right number to talk to the police.
"NO! it's NINE, ONE, ONE! It's not NOINE, WUN, WUN!" Megan sarcastically responded.
"Okay...okay... okay... just breathe... just breathe... breathe," nervously breathed Curtis.
"Curtis, what is wrong with you? It's my money anyways... you bought your game on my card! Why are you freaking out for?" asked Megan as Curtis frantically called the police.
"It's not a game! It's a video card! It's a component for my computer! Okay, okay, okay... wait... I got the police... wait... wait... hold on, Megan, one sec...Yes! Hello! Police?" said Curtis.
"Yes, this is emergency services, what is your emergency?" said the voice on Curtis's cell phone.
"Yeah, police, so look, like, someone stole my Babylon..." began Curtis yet got cut off as soon as he mentioned the word Babylon and did not even get to say the word parcel.
"Sir, we do not consider Babylon packages, for any reason, as being an emergency... goodbye," bluntly said the woman from emergency services.
"Yo, but, Megan, I mean my girlfriend has a Prime account with Babylon so...hello? Hello!? Did they fucking hang up on me!?" whined Curtis.
Megan tried interjecting into Curtis's current crisis with some somber and rational advice...
"It happens to everybody. Everyone gets their Babylons stolen on the stoops, sometimes. It's the just the way it is. Settle down, Curtis," interjected Megan.
"Settle down!? Someone stole my video card, Megan, I will not just settle down! It happens to everybody!? Well, It SHOULDN'T! It really shouldn't happen to ANYBODY! This world has descended into being a CESSPOOL! We are living in a CESSPOOL of CRIME! WE ARE LIVING IN A WORLD THAT IS A CESSPOOL OF TOTAL CRIME! MEGAN!" bloviated the very-upset Curtis.
"Are you serious? I..." sighed Megan who was now actually angry that Curtis didn't even notice she put on her hot yoga-pants today as he was too busy whining about his video card that she paid for anyway because he ordered it with her credit card on her Babylon Prime account.
"Megan... like... fuck you," said Curtis.
"Yeah, whatever, if you want to find your video card... why don't you hire a private investigator?" very-jokingly joked Megan not even 1% seriously or anything which was a big mistake to say this for she had really under-estimated how far her boyfriend would actually go to find his video card.
"Private... investigator? Wow... you're so smart sometimes, Megan, I'm sorry I said fuck you to you... that's a great idea!" happily said Curtis with a giant smile upon his face.
"..." sighed the sexy Megan in her halter-top and tight-tight yoga-pants.
Meanwhile, as the very sexy Megan sighed, Curtis was already on his favorite search-engine on the internet looking for private investigators. He came across many names, but one really stuck out, which he said out loud as soon as he came across the search result.
"...Johnny Spice?" said Curtis with a confident sneer on his face as he truly believed a guy who was named something like this could for-sure find his video card he ordered from Babylon last night.
"Johnny... Spice? Sounds like a porno star..." said Megan.
"Megan... look... you don't know anything about private eyes... you're annoying also... so... enough with the needless comments, mm-kay? Listen to his ad...If you are in need of a highly discreet yet professional private investigation or you need a bodyguard... please don't hesitate to contact without delay... Johnny Spice... a REAL detective.." said Curtis as he started to read the online ad aloud to Megan.
"He sounds sort of cool..." Megan said.
"Wait, there's more... check it out... it says... 25% off first investigation... results or money-back... will travel," continued to read Curtis.
"What's his email?" asked Megan, now curious, as Johnny Spice actually did sound like a guy who could get the job done.
"JohnnySpice@slotmail.com...." replied Curtis.
"How come he doesn't have any numbers in his email?" asked Megan confusingly.
"I don't know, maybe he's like old... or something. Like, maybe he got his slotmail account in the nineteen hundreds... or something. Back then, like in the olden-times, I don't think you had to put a bunch of numbers after your email address when you got a slotmail account," informed Curtis.
"So he's like... all old? Are you sure we can trust him? I have to admit his ad sounds pretty cool... and something about his name... makes me tingle all over," said the hot Megan as she whipped her long brown hair around and adjusted the waist-line of her skin-tight yoga-pants.
"Megan, listen... I refuse to live in this crime-ridden cesspool of our so-called society for no-more than one-more second, Megan, I don't care how much it costs... I'm gonna hire... Johnny Spice!"
To be continued.....
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