Chapter Three - A Confusing Riddle
Tuesday 9.45am
A white walled room somewhere
Well, that�s the understatement of the decade, I think. For those of you who
ain�t sure what�s a goin� on, join the club, and pay your subscription.
Min�s a scotch on the rocks, which is precisely where I am. On the rocks.
Not in Scotland. So, I gets warned off
Valdez, while at the same time, I�m
told to watch out for an Icelandic guy, who my
not-as-sharp-as-a-lump-o-cork side kick tells me is a Scientist.
The
Scientist runs a farm full o geneticised wonder beings in town somewhere,
and he�s a lookin� for assistance, because his geneticly perfect
super-beasts (I�ve heard tell that they�re somethin� like that broad on TV
only with better legs, and it�s all real, and the guys look like a right
bunch of fairies) are perfect in every way - looks, brains, biceps, even got
a bigger soul than you or I, (souls not bein� the most important thing in my
line o� work - detection - or my line o� leisure - broads and booze) - but
these wonder beings ain�t so good against colds or the flu. Turns out they
die when exposed to either. A right bunch of lightweights. At least that�s
what my assistant told me on the phone the other day.
I, meanwhile, have been keeping very busy - Valdez said to investigate the
Icelandic guy, some professor, only I didn�t know where to begin. And then
what should appear? Well, nothing as it turns out. But, we�ve now got a
mystery without a mystery and with three separate points of interest. On the
one hand, there�s Valdez, fishier than a three week old halibut and twice as
oily, then there�s Professor Lars Von Bastardson, our Icelandic Megalomaniac
geneticist, then there�s these real scumbags I�ve begun to notice. Only,
there ain�t just one bunch of scumbags, there�s two. Firstly, we�ve got
these redneck hillbillys, who supply all the best Beanie, including this
here bottle I�m drinking now, and then we�ve got this gang, ho I can only
call lunatics, which is lucky �cause they go by the name of The Loonies. Run
by a few nutters. Lunatics who took over the asylum. Now how they piece
together I don�t know, but my assistant�s got a theory - he reckons it�s due
to this stuff Zoom Zoom - apparently ol Bastardson used to work at
Zaibatsu,
and the mutants he builds are particularly susceptible to the water supply
if it�s got any traces of Zoom Zoom in it, making them very keen on the
mutant broads and thereby ruining the asexual genetically driven
reporduction which Lars favours. At the same time, these Loonies can�t get
enough of the stuff (Zoom Zoom, not sex, although it turns out they can�t
get enough of that either), while the rednecks, with their beanie moonshine
are threatening the sales of Zoom Zoom all over town. And the Loonies love
Beanie too. Anyway, that�s my assistant�s theory. Reckons we might be being
set up because the government want to ban Zoom Zoom, while the Zaibatsu want
to kill the Rednecks,
and destroy their beanie sills. So, Mr. Straight laced
Senator who�s due to pay a visit to town in a few days is going to get
killed in a massive bomb in the trailer park, were the rednecks live, and
we�re being set up as eco-terrorists. Well, blow me with a three year old
hoover. Sounds a lot of stuff and nonsense.
Now, as for me, I�m in a spot of trouble. In a white cell. No visible means
of escape. All from when I decided to go and pay these Loonies, and their
boos, Gov. J. Rotten, a visit, and being ever so polite, they gave me what
they called an Executive relief Cocktail. Well, I can take me drink, but
that, according to the system clock was three days ago� It seemde like a
good idea at the time. Now, where�s that assistant of mine.
