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The Daily Chronicle Review- Partners In Crime “A Smashing Hit”

Well, “Partners In Crime” was a smashing success! Some of my most read blogs, and all it did was outline a day of puppy-sitting for my sister’s new dog. How cute is this “little” guy??

Gibson, AKA "Gibbs"

Gibson, AKA “Gibbs”

He’s a playful fun-loving dude, we went on lots of runs together and played a lot. A champ of a mutt, Great Dane and Labrador only four months old! This dog is going to get huge.

There are a couple things I would like to warn you about. One: Be careful when using google images to look up “film noir”. Some people who upload photos don’t entirely know the difference between timeless Film Noir Classic freeze frames and stock photos, and S&M related black and white pornography. After looking up pictures on many, many occasions to complete this short series, there was one photo I began to fondly refer to as “Mister Floppy.”

How did I get the idea to do a noir series? That’s for me to know.

It was originally just a one-time piece, but then I started puppy-sitting that awesome little mutt for a couple of days and the series just wrote itself, so I went with it (mostly in the downtime when he was sleeping off the havoc he wreaked or one of our runs).

Well, it was a blast, probably one of the funnest things I’ve written in a long time. I hope it got some laughs.

Ah yes, and number two: Apparently, lampposts are very common in film noir. Probably one of the most used props, second to guns. It gave me a little bit of an actual fondness for them, lol.

Hope everyone enjoyed, and have a wonderful night!!

Stacey

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“A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.”

-Richard Bach

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cover    For more information on my published novels, click here!

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“Partners In Crime”- Conclusion (My Day In A Short Noir)

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No, he couldn’t.

She was never one to fool for such cons, and she made her point by turning him in to the buttons to spend some time behind bars while she ate. It was a peaceful time, but guilt wracked her and she was soon planning a jailbreak. She just couldn’t live with herself if her partner in crime were to spend the rest of the night in the jug… so she came up with the most elaborate plan ever… she opened the baby gate. Once she was done eating, that was.

As expected he was all over her with apologies. Slobbery gestures of remorse and affection, the wanting, the yearning for her approval. “I won’t do it again, babe.” But she wasn’t so sure.

Regardless, she let him into her bed. It was time to sleep.

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“You better not get any wrong ideas, bruno.” She warned him ahead of time. “I gotta sleep, you gotta sleep, it’s just you and I here in this scatter, I ain’t no pro skirt and I don’t intend to be daisy. Keep your tail to yourself and no one has to swing.”

It was agreed then. This mission had been exhausting and they were both just too tired to continue on without the help of a little sleep, not if they intended to finish their mission without getting blipped, blown down, bopped, bumped, chilled, chived, croaked, cut down, drilled, fogged, kicked, knocked, pooped, rubbed, zotzed, or just plain… killed.

They both laid down. But not for long.

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The sleeping femme fatale. She finally dozes off, only to wake moments later to see this staring right in her face, a disconcerting and… dangerous expression on his face.

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It was back and forth between the two. She wanted to sleep, and he wanted to… chew. An arm, a leg, a cushion, it didn’t matter so long as his teeth were occupied. But it wasn’t long before she realized… it did matter. He wanted skin. He wanted flesh. He wanted to… nurse. He was a Puppy, after all.

But it wasn’t long before all her unmet demands and unsuccessful discouragement started turning her disgruntled, dazed, annoyed… angry.

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As all the nibbling and jumping and growling wore on through the night, she began to go from this:

film_noir_0001To this:

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And she knew she had to do something to put a stop to this mad behavior. It was driving her insane and he knew it. She couldn’t give in, she couldn’t give up, no matter how persuasive, no matter how persistent. She had to persevere but it was just… too difficult.

“Gibbs,” She finally says, “You wanna play?”

“What do you think, doll?”

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It was settled. They began to wrestle, to play, to chew on rawhides together. She knew this wasn’t what the typical partners in crime did but he wasn’t a typical Dog and she wasn’t a typical Ace. They both had pasts, they both had their dirty secrets and strange silhouetted shadows to hide from. She had a fondness of leaning against lampposts, and he had a fondness to piddle on them.

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It was almost like it was… meant to be.

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They finally settle down. It was a strange night, an eccentric night, and certainly unplanned. But isn’t that all life is? One unplanned event after another. It had her shaken… rattled.

No longer were they enemies. She knew then that she could trust that young bruno, and all suspicion was gone. She had to accept his dark side, so long as he understood there were boundaries, certain rules and morals she refused to set aside.

Her shoulder was not a means to feed.

Though accidents will happen. A little blood was shed. Nothing to worry on.

But as with all things in life… there was a twist.

A twist that left her questioning his intentions, her instincts. Was she wrong to trust this Dog so soon?

And before she knew it…

He was back to chewing on her toes.

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And sneaking up on her with slobbery kisses when she wasn’t looking.

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Even… tearing a hole in the back of her last pair of pants (and the skin underneath.)

But she began to realize finally, after spending so many suspenseful hours together.

That was just his way of expressing love.

And who was she to question the affections of a Dog?

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And that’s it. They survived the night and went their separate ways.  Today he goes back into the business, the dirty business where shadows crawl along dark alleys and Poohs better watch their backs or they might get cut down at the earliest opportunity, just for a little scratch.

And as for her… Well, she knows that if they ever cross paths again they’ll pretend they never knew one another. Never been through the dangers that they faced together, never knew the feel of his warm drooling tongue against her face as she slept and his shiny, debonair teeth in her flesh, the happy wagging of his tail and sly ways he seemed to always find a way to get what he wanted. But that was all right by her, for today she can live by those memories.

And tomorrow…

She gets a new pair of pants.

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*********     FIN     *********

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“A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.”

-Richard Bach

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“Partners In Crime” Episode 4 (My Day In A Short Noir)

film_noir_by_andrewastonishing-d2vycos

She almost forgot what she was doing… almost. But only because she forgot to reread the previous episode. She was rarely so careless, but present circumstances had her… confused… bedazzled.

That’s right! The storm. The thunder and lightening, so very loud, it would make sneaking back home for dinner not so easy. Because if she was about, that meant other bindle stiffs were walking the streets as well, oblivious to the lightning, oblivious to the… danger.

But Danger… was her middle name.

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Unfortunately, the storm grew so bad all she could do was stand against a lamppost in the fog. But that was just fine, because as we’ve established, she likes standing against lampposts. A lot.

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It didn’t take her long to get her dinner and sneak back inside, where Gibbs waited, expectantly, impatiently. She begged for him to go outside, to see the streets so muddled and full of danger, to understand why it took so long for her return. But he just wouldn’t. “Can’t you see I’m busy, darling?”

Busy. Busy clipping an innocent pillow and giving her pants the chiv like this was some kind of gooseberry lay. She began to wonder if he was a dropper in disguise. Seemed every time she turned around he was bumping off someone else.  It made her wonder if it was all about the scratch, or if he was some kind of conman out for hot iron or possibly a shamus that fell in the game a little too deep.

With that, she could relate.

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It was time to eat now, but all she could think about was this big Dog, trying to get in her lap like she was some kind of tomato or rube, begging for her scraps. But she was no easy mark, she knew his game.  A little too well. “Hey there bruno, what do you think you’re doing? I’m no sap. You can’t take me down that easy.”

Or could he?

*** To Be Continued… ***

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“A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.”

-Richard Bach

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“Partners In Crime” Episode 3 (My Day In A Short Noir)

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So there they were. Just she and Gibbs. It became evident quite quickly that this was not a mission she could afford to fail, nor a job she could turn down. He liked to run, and he jogged at just her pace. This wasn’t a partnership she could easily turn down with a clear conscience, nor one she would even want to. It was time to work together.

Yet still, the question remained… Just how far could she trust him?

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It was a small job, once they’d agreed to work together without ratting one another out to the bulls for past deeds done cheap. No, it was time to move beyond that. It was time for… dinner.

Dinner, you say. Well, she had to admit it was a bit easier for him, being a Dog in his own domain he had his ducks in a row, and what a fine row it was. New to the scene, a steady feeling of unease overcoming her, she began to realize this wasn’t going to be as easy as it looked. She would have to get back into disguise and sneak back into her old district to rustle up some grub, sneak back without the bulls and snitches being the wiser. And she had to do it alone.

It wasn’t anything she hadn’t done before, she was a pro, an ace, she could do it without issue.

Then the storm hit.

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*** To Be Continued… ***

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“A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.”

-Richard Bach

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“Partners In Crime”- Episode 2 (Part Two) (My Day In A Short Noir)

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She’d just stepped inside, after leaning on the brick wall, ascertaining the safety of her mission. She concluded that there was none to be had and she continued on anyway. She knew she was on the eight-ball, but an ace never gives up and she never blows off.

She had just run into the Dog, and when I say Dog, I mean just that. They had just made eye contact and she knew instantly what he wanted. He wanted… to play.

We’ll call him Gibbs.

Gibbs was the sort of Dog you had to watch out for, a kind of Bruno we’ll say. Tough guy. Sure he acted playful, jumping around and having a grand ol’ time. But she wasn’t fooled. He was the kind of Dog who’d wag his tail for any regular Joe or Jane who came around.

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Yet she couldn’t deny, there was just something about this little guy. Something that drew her to him, something… dangerous. It may have had something to do with the strange puddle in the corner, but as soon as she leashed him up and sent him running, he went, if you know what I mean.

She already knew he was the kind of bruno who cleaned up after himself, if you catch my drift, but it wasn’t until the sly little guy tried to bring his dirty business back inside that she stepped down her fancy toe shoes and said, “Nuh-uh, buster. You ain’t bringin’ that back in here.”

Too bad she’d already been fooled and tried to take it out of his mouth, thinking it was just another lump of dirt.

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This guy was sly. Gibbs had it written all over him. Cute as a button, suave, the kind of charming mutt a lady could fall for, if she wasn’t careful. She knew she needed a break. So she steps out to put on her disguise, stand on the bridge in the rain, overlooking the river. This is how she does her best thinking. In silhouette, dressed as a man, leaning against a lamppost. Under thunderclouds.

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She knew she had a decision to make. She was too far in, too deep in her disguise and her lies to back out now. There were mysteries to solve, but she couldn’t turn her back on him. What kind of Dog was Gibbs that could act all playful one moment, and turn around and bump off a Pooh Bear Slipper without remorse? Sure it was in an unprovoked fit of passion, the urge to play triumphed over his self-control and an innocent Pooh paid the price. But she couldn’t risk bringing him in, she couldn’t risk being… discovered.

Her only other option was to work with him.

The song and dance begins. Before she knows it, she and Gibbs are running together, hot on the trail.

Or should I say, hot on the “tail”

Ha. Ha.

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*** To Be Continued… ***

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“A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.”

-Richard Bach

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“Partners In Crime”- Episode 2 (My Day In A Short Noir)

filmnoirlady

Let’s get to the point here. It was as she suspected. Ill-prepared and equipped with determination, she wakes up not knowing what she will face on this special day. What makes it so special, you may ask? Her mission.

Lost in a sea of phone calls, the mass effort to throw her off her mission, she prevails anyhow. She feels the danger all around. But enough back story. Let’s continue the real story.

She eases around the front, she remembers the key but who knows what lays inside. It could be… anything. Anything at all.

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She puts the key in the lock and listens for any sounds that may tell her what she is about to face. She hears nothing. But every good ace knows that the sound of silence is more suspicious than a scream, more suspicious than… a squeak. It wearies her already.

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Entering through the front door is as dangerous as entering through the back. Though she only has keys to the front. Her contacts in the district were unable to provide her with a secondary option, and climbing in through the window was bound to draw attention in the daylight. Plus, the window doesn’t open, it’s one of those that’s just for looks, just for… sunlight.

She turns the doorknob, and waits for the sound. Easing the door open an inch at a time… unsure what may pop out at her… She waits another moment. Then she sees him. He’s been waiting. Him… and an unpleasant surprise.

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He turns to greet her. Perhaps a friendly hello. Perhaps a request for a… treat. She doesn’t know what to expect, except that he’s made her, he has eyes only for her, and just as she suspected…

He was a dog.

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Oh boy. This was going to be messy business.

Messy business indeed.

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*** To Be Continued…. ***

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“A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.”

-Richard Bach

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“Partners In Crime”- Episode 1 (My Day In A Short Noir)

Noir4Awake

And there she was. Woken up again, another day. Just like any other, they may say. A look at the book, putting pants on one leg at a time, using the toilet. Yes, a morning, just like any other.

But little did she know, when that morning passes, there will be an afternoon. A suspicious afternoon. An afternoon to leave chills down her spine.

An afternoon to be suspicious of.

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First there came the call, you see. That strange call. At first she thought… it couldn’t be. A strange woman on the other end, leaving a message. Just like that. Like it was any other missed-call occasion. As if everything was… normal.

But it wasn’t normal.

I mean, who leaves a message in such a way, who? To request a call back but not until… later?

Now that raised her suspicions, you see. Who calls just to say… Call me later.

Even worse…

Call me tomorrow.

Naturally, she thought the worst. A stranger, using their phone, to call, to make a special appointment. An appointment that could mean the difference between… a late lunch, or an early lunch.

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It made her think, as she repeated the message to ensure she had written down and heard every word correctly. Should I call her later, should I call her tomorrow?

The questions, there were just too many.

She thinks about it, as she lights a cigarette and leans against a lamppost in the middle of the night for no reason.

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But wait. The meeting. She wonders if leaning against a lamppost in the middle of the night while smoking a cigarette can fit into her schedule well when she has that secret meeting to attend. The meeting of which may contain clues. May contain… answers.

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She attends this meeting. There were no actual dark alleys to walk down, but the construction traffic she endured for half an hour was frightening enough to make any cigarette-smoking-stranger filled dark alley in the middle of the night look like a picnic at the county fair.

She enters this building, this maze of a building that once again arouses her suspicion. Who builds their office complex in a circle structure if they haven’t got something to hide? She pretends to get lost. For looks. Just for looks. To scope out the place, you know. To question the local office dwellers, incognito, discover clues. By no means did she actually get lost, that’s just a vicious rumor. Spread by her enemies. Members of the local gang of Massage Therapists that don’t like her style. Don’t like the way she practices… barefoot. They mean to bring her down. She means to discover their seedy secrets and expose them for what they really are…. Chiropractors.

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But alas, there were no clues to be found, no secrets to unearth. Just a meeting, like any other. Top secret work. Nothing to hide. Nothing…. to hide…

::::Cue dramatic music:::

Until next time, the Massage Therapist, with too much time on her hands, adventures to be had in life. She knows she’ll uncover the truth one day. Someday.

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“A professional writer is an amateur who didn’t quit.”

-Richard Bach

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cover    For more information on my published novels, click here!

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