My name's Shamus, Richard Shamus; I’m a private detective. I work the big city where it’s been hot; very hot. So hot that, on the way to work this morning, I watched Mr. Fielders toupee combust when he walked out the front door of his barber shop. Yeah it was that kind of hot. It was even hot when it rained.
I was sitting in my office, the small fan on my desk blowing the hot air around, wondering which horse to bet on during the races later today when she walked in; brown hair, green eyes, and legs that went all the way to the ground. I was mesmerized as she floated over to the cheap leather chair on the other side of my desk.
“Oh Mr. Shamus” she said with a voice that would make canaries cry. “I so need your help”.
“Well I don’t work for free toots no matter how nice your stems are” I said, trying not to show how dizzy I was about this dame.
“Please Mr. Shamus I don’t have a lot of money but I need protection. I have a beautiful motorcycle that my father left me when he passed away and I’m afraid that all this sun and rain are going to destroy the bike. You just gotta help me!”
http://www2.2wf.com/index.php/product-reviews/miscellaneous-menu/920-dowco-guadian-weatherall-plus
No comments:
Post a Comment