Sam Kane P.I. in 'Where's Waldo?'

I've been living in Los Angeles for a good 5 to 6 years now, moving here by way of Cleveland Ohio.  I don't want to say Cleveland is boring, but I spent a weekend there once and it's still going on. 

My name’s Sam Kane, Finder of Missing Persons!

How did I get into this racket? I used to be Sam Kane, Finder of Lost Combs, Brushes, and Hairpieces. That was good money at $500 a day plus expenses until people caught on that all they had to do was look behind the toilet, under the car seat, or somewhere embedded in the neighbor's Afro.  

So after a brief stint chasing down missing holidays, I’m working the missing persons beat. I'd like to say it's a living, but with three ex-wives and enough alimony to cause Sheldon Adelson to shout "OY GEVALT," that it could never be!

Well, I was sitting in my office on a Thursday afternoon that was so slow Chris Christie could have beaten it in a foot race when ... she came in.

"Mr. Kane?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"I need your help."

She was a good looking dame in a short skirt with legs that seemed to go on forever, or at least as long as the run of Game of Thrones.  She had the look of upper crust all the way, champagne, caviar, and sex with guys named Reginald.

"So, Ms. Hot and Mysterious, what's your name?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Kane. My name is Lola Moldavia."

"Call me Sam, Ms. Moldavia. That way should we happen to be having sex later on you won't have to shout out "you're the best ever, Mr. Kane!"

"Mr. Kane, I don't like that kind of talk!  I have a serious request of you."

"Spill it, Sweetheart!"

"I want you to find Waldo."

Waldo!  I certainly knew the name.  Half the city was looking for him. The boys down at the detective division had started a special Waldo task force headed up by my old friend Sergeant Brian Meeks, and Marlowe and Spade were also on the case.

"What do you want with this Waldo?" I asked Ms. Moldavia.

"I have to find him!" she ejaculated.  "I just have to!"

I always like it when a dame ejaculates in one of my capers. Hopefully it portends good things for me by story's end. 

Ms. Moldavia showed me several pictures of the missing-in-action Waldo.  It was hard to imagine why a dame like her would expend a moment's energy trying to find a guy like him unless she was casting a remake of Revenge of the Nerds. He had a goofy grin and a penchant for red and white striped shirts that looked like Central Castings' idea of pirate garb for a Grade Z seafaring movie made in the mid-fifties starring Kerwin Matthews.

I took a healthy retainer from Ms. Moldavia, bade her adios, and set out to Police Headquarters to see if my buddy Meeks had uncovered any hot leads.

"Kane, I can't help you this time," said Meeks.  "Everything is hush-hush." 

"Meeks, I don't like to bring this up," I said sheepishly, "but you recall that I did once save your life."

"You mean the time I got my zipper caught and you took my pants off over my head?  Okay, Sam, I'll give you a little something."  

"Give." 

"As you know, Kane, Waldo likes to hang out in places where there are throngs of people.  Places like the beach, the opera, reunions of Billy Bob Thornton's wives. Usually red and white stripes are part of the scene. Odd, though, rumor has it he was last spotted in a department store where there were fewer people around than members of the Katherine Heigl fan club."

"Thanks, pal,” I called to Meeks as I began heading out.

"Sam?" said Meeks.

"Yeah, Meeks?'

"Be careful."

"Don't worry, Meeks.  I've been taking care of myself since I was 47!"

Later that day while having my afternoon java at Lou Fielding's place I told my favorite hash slinger about the elusive Waldo and how he liked to hang out in mobs of people where stripes are part of the decor.

"Well, you know, Sam," Lou offered, "there's an NBA Referees Convention in town this week."

"Yeah, but those would be black and white striped jerseys ... wait a minute, Lou! That's it!"

"What's it, Sam?"

"Lou, I could kiss you!" 

"Please don't, Sam.  Contrary to my character's stereotype I am gay, but I'm not coming out before Tom Cruise does."

I raced to the Convention Center and there before me was an ocean of black and white stripes as far as the eye could see. There were referees not only for hoops but for every major sport save baseball, chain gangs suitably attired, zebras, zebras on chain gangs, referees on chain gangs ---- where many of them belong --- and of course, more zebras.  Many more zebras.

"I tried to warn you to stay away," came a voice behind me.

I whirled about to see Meeks with his revolver drawn.

"You see, Sam, someone important doesn't want Waldo found."

Just then a bullet whizzed by me and Meeks hit the ground.  I saw the assailant at a distance, but even through the crowd I knew it was exactly who I figured it would be!

"Waldo, you bastard!" I screamed. “I’m taking you down!  And, by the way, that black and white striped shirt of yours needs major tailoring."

I leaped through a sea of striped humanity and dove at Waldo's ankles. I tackled him cleanly and slapped the cuffs on him.

"Who are you?" Waldo cried.

"I'm Sam Kane, Finder of Missing Persons, Lost Combs, Brushes, and Hairpieces!" 

"How'd you figure it, Kane?"

"I heard you were clothes shopping in a sparsely populated venue and let's face it, Waldo, you’re no fashion plate. When I learned about the referee conference, I realized you must have been buying a black and white striped shirt for the occasion and that I'd find your sorry ass here."

"Very clever, Kane. You think maybe ... I should have taken a medium?” 

"No, but you are taking the fall."

"You can't do that, Kane.  You'll spoil the game."

"Game?"

"Sure. Everyone wants to find me, but once they do, they just want me to turn around and hide again."

"It's ... it's a game?"

"It's called Where's Waldo? Google it, gumshoe."

"Well, what's in all this for you, Waldo?"

"World fame and a paycheck fatter than Governor Christie.”

Made sense to me. So after I thought it over, I sprung Waldo loose and he vanished into the mega-striped crowd.

"I’m sorry, Sam,” said Meeks, holding his arm and catching up to me. “My eight year old wanted to be the one to find him first. Who is Waldo anyway?”  

"The stuff that dreams are made of.  Low-level gamer dreams anyway."

There’s just a bit more to the story.  Before I cut Waldo loose I wrung a little concession out of him. Whenever and wherever I want, I get to find him. I always know "Where's Waldo."

And there are more than a few folks who show great appreciation for this unique talent of mine. 

You can ask Ms. Moldavia, if you doubt it. 

(Yep, it portended good things for me by story's end!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  My thanks to writer and friend Brian Meeks for his gracious cameo in this story.  And my thanks also to Waldo who ..... crap, where did he go now?

Spring Slake (FF)

PHOTO PROMPT – © Madison Woods

"Say, Brandon, it sure was nice of your dad to spring for a keg of beer for our Annual Finals Time/Spring Bash!"

"Yeah, Kyle, my dad does some nice but weird-ass things sometimes."

"I understand your father is known as The Internet's Least Successful Humor Writer."

"True, I'm afraid he's almost as unfunny as @ShitMyDadSays."

"OMG, I didn't think anything could be that unfunny!"

"Well, let's tap the keg, boys!"

"AUGGHGH!"

"PITOUEY!"

"GBLAHHH!"

"Look, here's a note from my dad:  Hope you guys enjoy this keg of Listerine.  Now gargle, spit, and get back to work!"

"You know what, Brandon?  Now that's funny!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I thought it was time for a post to show off my advanced parenting skills, but unfortunately this isn't it.  Well, maybe it is; we'll see what kind of grades these guys ultimately get. Better yet, we'll see how many cavities.

Now all of you should go study the many other takes on the above picture prompt by the other Friday Fictioneers.  Just tap the keg right here, and drink up!   

Happy Annual Finals Time/Spring Bash!

Batman v. Superman v. WTF?

The recent release of a trailer for the upcoming movie Batman v. Superman has gotten a lot of people looking forward to seeing the film, and I guess I’m one of them.

I say “I guess”  because I’m sick of superhero movies.  We've reached the point of such superhero saturation that the new movie will also feature Aquaman, a superhero so insipid his greatest power is the ability to order mackerel to defecate on the bad guys should they happen to fall underwater. 

I've always liked both Batman and Superman, however, but pairing them together in the same movie is kind of strange.* Superman is the most powerful being in all of time and space. Batman?  He has as many super powers as you and I except he looks a lot better in tights. 

Frankly, Batman is only a big cheese in a universe in which there is no Superman.  So what does Batman have to offer the Man of Steel in a world in which they both exist?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Superman:  Great Scott, Batman!  Lex Luthor has catapulted a huge Kryptonite boulder right in our path!

Batman:  Great Scott, Superman, you're right!  Umm ... are you feeling sick, by any chance?

Superman:  No, Batman, I'm sitting here playing strip poker with Wonder Woman. Yes, I'm feeling sick! Hurry, remove the Kryptonite and put it in the lead containment box!

Batman:  Of course, Superman.  But first, we've got a few things to discuss.

Superman:  A few things to discuss?  

Batman:  To tell you the truth, Superman, I'm sick of being the junior member in this partnership.  I want a broader role.

Superman:  But, Batman, I only need you whenever there’s Kryptonite around. That's the job: you pick up the Kryptonite, you put it in the box, and then go take study hall.

Batman:  Yeah, for which you pay me the grand sum of Superhero Minimum Wage!

Superman: But that's all the job's worth. Frankly I could get Aquaman to do this. 

Batman:  Aquaman? That's a low blow.

Superman:  Batman, please hurry!  I'm so nauseated I feel like I've just seen a Val Kilmer movie!

Batman:  Cool your pecs, Clark!  I want a raise and a company match in the "Strange Visitor from Another Planet 401 (k) Plan!"

Superman: But Batman, (cough, cough, cough!) aren't you a millionaire as Bruce Wayne?

Batman: Ever heard of Bernie Madoff, Superman?

Superman:  Okay, okay!  What do you want? 

Batman:  Let’s make it 45 bucks an hour, a 6 % match, and a health care plan that covers having the shit kicked out of you by Bane.

Superman:  Sure (cough, sputter) sure, whatever you say!

Batman:  And I want you to help get the Superhero Minimum Wage raised.

Superman:  Great Scott, Batman, that'll ruin the economy and cost superhero jobs! What will Kochman say?

Batman:  Kochman?! Great Scott, Superman, you’re a conservative?

Superman:  I am. For me truth, justice, and the American way is the Second Amendment, Fox News, and "let's impeach the Muslim President."

Batman:  Superman:   I quit. 

Superman:  You quit?  Batman,  where are you going? 

Batman: Maybe you can get Kochman to help you out at Superhero Minimum Wage.

Superman: Great Scott, Batman, I'm turning into a plate of Kryptonian Goulash!!!

Batman:    Great Scott, Superman, I'm sorry!  Looks like maybe I am the hero Earth needs after all.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Back when I was a kid, Superman and Batman were always paired in World's Finest Comics, which was anything but. The stories were silly and the artwork often second tier. Even when I was ten, I didn't buy it.

A Fine Bromance - Part II

"So, you finally found a fine bromance," I said to my friend Mark as we sat in one of our favorite Center City haunts. "Tell me all about your new fella."

I have to admit I’d been surprised when Mark told me that he was looking for a hot bromance. I knew his marriage was on the rocks, but I was skeptical that a serious platonic relationship with another guy would make things better.

"He's everything I've always dreamed about in a bromance!" Mark enthused.

Dreamed about in a bromance? This is a guy who used to have wet dreams about getting through the summer without his lawn getting crab grass.

"What’s his name?” I asked. "Where did you meet him?"

"His name is Roger," Mark said. "I met him at my daughter's ballet class.”

"He was taking ballet with 14-year-old girls?"

"Of course not. He owns the school.”

“How did you two get to talking?”

“I asked him where the bathroom was.  He said ‘straight down the hall and to the left, you need a key.’  I tell you, it was magic!”

“Sounds almost as magical as an evening with Penn and Teller!” 

"We went to a sports bar and talked for hours,” Mark said happily. “I knew he would be my one true bromance.” 

One true bromance? The closest I ever got to one true bromance was with Ernie the Mechanic the six months he was trying to figure out how to stop my Pinto from clanging.

"So what have you two guys done together since?"

"What haven't we done? We've been to ball games, concerts, museums, poetry readings. Last week we went up to an exhibit of futuristic art in New York."

“I remember when your concept of futuristic art was a drawing of the Jetsons.”

“Yes, life is good, Perry, life is good!”

"But has all this helped your marriage?"

"No, Roger has helped me to see it was time for it to end. My wife Jane fully agrees and we’ve begun our amicable divorce.”

“Mark, if you’re happy, I’m happy.  I’m just not sure I’m sold on the idea of bromance.”

Just then a great-looking blonde entered the bar.

"Oh my god, Mark, look at her!" I gasped.

“Perry, that’s Jennifer!”

“Who’s Jennifer?”

“My new girl.”

“Wha-a-at??" 

“Jennifer," Mark called to her. "Come meet Perry!"

"Hi, Perry," cooed Jennifer. "Hiya, Markie!”

"Mark, how... how ... did you two meet?"

"Through Roger.  He’s taught me a lot about the ladies too.”

"Can we leave now, Markie?" sighed Jennifer.

"Sorry, Perry.”

  

"Mark, can I ask you something?"

"Sure." 

"Does Roger have a brother?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~