Sleuth: Noir

Foist things foist:

Seems like a bunch of youse didn't take me serious when I said I ain't gonna help wit' your cases. I told youse da next fool who asked me about da monkey was gonna get boined. But ya didn't listen.

Did you, Corses? You wanna know who killed da monkey? You did! Right now. Da second you axed me dat question, ya spanked it to death. Such an ugly way to rub someone out.

Arsenio Armas axed me a question I bet a lotta youse wuz wonderin' about, but didn't even have the guts to speak on it. He writes:

Shady every time I go back to you to remove some of my "problems" you charge me with a greater price so I ask now why?

Foist of all, my buddy da fortune teller had a little somethin' to say about you, my friend. Seems like the cards see you comin' back in about 50 years as a skinny fella what talks to Hollywood fools for money. An' I gotsta say for alla times I bailed you out, I truly hope you got more of a knack for that than ya do for the detective game. But I never put much stock in dem Turbot Cards he fools aroun' with anyhow.

Don't even like fish. And I can't stand da Caliphonies, neither.

Da truth hoits, Arsenio. I charges you more cuz I'm a tough love kinda guy, and da truth here is, mosta youse shoulda learned da foist time. Or da second time. Or da tird time. You follow me? Each time ya do it, you was dumber than da time before. If you ain't gonna follow da simple rule, you ain't gonna get no sympathy from ol' Shady.

AnnManor writes:

Dear Shady, (I likes it when youse dames are polite)

Some people travel light. Not me. Wouldn't want to be caught in the back streets of Shanghai without my favorite ivory-handled pig sticker. So before I buy a ticket to anyplace, I wrap up my whole agency and ship it off ahead of me so that my wardrobe arrives at the same time I do. Trouble is, the Prince won't tell me if I can do this when I go off on one of his wild villain hunts. There's nobody in my agency but me, myself, and I...and a couple of cats. The mouse chasing kind. All I want with me is my gear, not the aid of other sleuths. Can I do this on a villain hunt. I know you hang out with a lot of villains, so ask around.

I've paid you enough already to deserve this small favor.

Ah da Villain hunts. They has been a nice little revenue raiser for yours truly. Watchin' youse all sweatin' it out tryin' to catch them Arch Villains, heh, brings a tear to the eye - much the same way da pair of pliers I keeps in my pocket for stubborn 'customers' can sometimes do.

So AnnManor, you should do what's you can to get you through the night. Maybe you is one of these obsessive compulsive types I has heard about that needs to use their own john, who knows, but if you are cashed up and can shift your Agency arounds wid you, then by all means shift away.

It don't mean a hill of beans in the greater scheme of things I reckon. Ask anyone who's been stuck in Delhi for a week or so with nothin' but the lowin' of da occasional Sacred Cow and some wise guy whisperin' 'West of da Chapel'. You could be Einstein and still not have enough smarts to make them clues come when you want 'em to.

Hey now don't look at me like that. How could I possibly be involved...

As to your somewhat solitary existence, personally, dis appeals to yours truly. There aint no place like home, and all the better if there's aint no-one round to ask you stupid questions like 'what's in dem garbage bags', and 'why do you need to takes a shovel down into da basement.'

Anyway I hope dis' has helped some.

Some o' youse wanna whacks philosophical wit' me, which I can understand. I ain't never whacked no Socratoes, no Play-Dough or no-one like that...I ain't dat old, see. But I'm well-read, an' I can prove it.

Even your moderators got questions. L'il Rach asks: What is the secret of life?

L'il, you're a sweet kid, but if I knew, would I be messed up in this racket? I can categorically say da answer ain't extortion. All I know is, good food, good wine, good friends makes good times. I read it on a fortune cookie paper I found stuck to a dog's paw in Shanghai once, and I been pretty happy since.

Now to a question that is close to my heart. (Yeah I got one you bums).

Agent Andrew asks "Who knows what evil lurks in the heart of man?"

Now dis is somethin' yours truly could wax lyrical on til dose aforementioned Sacred Cows come home.

I have seens da full gambit of human emotion, from da sickly sweet 'Jesus wants to sings you a Rainbow', to dose that would make the Grim Reaper look like nothin' more than a Girl Scout on a sugar high.

But to tells you da truth, I aint come across many that weren't corruptible, seducable, bribable, or just downright compliant to the many vices that I can supply them wid.

Faust aint fiction, it's life.

Like I said, I reads. I aint no barfly sittin lookin' at life through the bottom of no whiskey glass. Sure I like a drink, but I has got literary pursoots.

Think I got to where I am without a little Machiavelli and a pinch (or is that a slap) of da Marquis de Sade?

So there aint no pullin da wool over these eyes with your high falutin' ways. Use yer big words, I got 'em too, in spades.

So Agent Andrew, we has all got a picture of Dorian Gray lurkin under a dust cover somewhere, you just got to know where to look.

And trust me when I say, I do.

Ok movin' right along. Rosamund Clifford asks:

Dear Shady, (Notice I am answerin' them questions which is polite and courteous. Them that knows their place get's a place in the know... If you sees my point.)

If you're in the right mood, I'd like you to tell me is there any chance of something new happening in Cairo, for instance a new kind of hunt (not just a treasure hunt) and shall we ever be able to move agencies or have apartments there.

I has to admit I don't mess too much in the machinations of Big Mama. What she gets Fezboy to doles out to you bozos is her business. I just try to find a way to cash in!

But I has to agree, Cairo aint all it's cracked up to be. I don't like da sand, I don't like da sun, and I don't like hagglin' with da locals. Last time I went to Cairo to collect I ended up with two Cashmere rugs and a camel named Delilah. But that's a story for another day.

I hear that Big Mama IS openin' up some apartments in Cairo soon, and dat there will be more to see than just those lousy pyramids. I hear there'll be some work shoe shopping for Big Mama, or maybe she'll just have you bozos sweepin' out the catacombs so's she can let da Sleuth Brat loose down there. Not exactly my idea of a dishonest day's work, but whatever it is, I'm sure I'll get plenty of business cleaning up da fallout.

Until that time I will be steerin a wide berth, wid the occasional visit to the catacombs. After all da basement 'is' getting kinda full...

On to Cordelia Falco who asks:

Shady,

I've never believed in this whole 'forgotten birthday' motive malarkey. What's the real deal there?

Well Miss Falco, what can I say...

I could tells you that I am coverin' up some truly evil things. That for example, Isador Smith's real motive for killin' his brother William was to collect on da life insurance, or coz William was a bit too shifty with his hands round Isador's old lady, but in reality, sometimes da truth is more disturbin' than da lie.

A forgotten birthday can stabs at your heart deeper than any switchblade. (That I add, I may or may not be carryin on my person) And dare I say it (and excuse me while I gag a little) love is a funny, fickle thing, am I right?! Some of us can shake off da little things: missed birthdays, anniversaries, and da like, and some of us well we takes a rusty ice pick and... I leaves the rest to yer collective imaginations.

So Cordelia sometimes you just have to take things at face value, and if youse happen to forget a loved one's birthday, remember to hide the steak knives before you go to bed that night.

Speakin', as we were, of meat, Oscar Meyer wants to know:

Can you cut me a deal on FA prices?

Oscar, those in the know got at least two ways to get a deal on my fees. An' I gots expensive tastes. So if you ain't gonna read between the lines on the boards, or answer me when I axe you for a deal on bologna, I ain't gonna do you no favors neither.

Oh, and Taluns - next time you axe why other detectives have strange names, you mighta wanna start da investigation at home, unless you got an illiterate eagle for a pet.

Until next time,

Shady.

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		Sleuth Home - Ask Shady Foist things foist: Seems like a bunch of youse didn't take me serious when I said I ain't gonna help wit' your cases. I told youse da next fool who asked me about da monkey was gonna get boined. But ya didn't listen. Did you, Corses? You wanna know who killed da monkey? You did! Right now. Da second you axed me dat question, ya spanked it to death. Such an ugly way to rub someone out. Arsenio Armas axed me a question I bet a lotta youse wuz wonderin' about, but didn't even have the guts to speak on it. He writes: Shady every time I go back to you to remove some of my "problems" you charge me with a greater price so I ask now why? Foist of all, my buddy da fortune teller had a little somethin' to say about you, my friend. Seems like the cards see you comin' back in about 50 years as a skinny fella what talks to Hollywood fools for money. An' I gotsta say for alla times I bailed you out, I truly hope you got more of a knack for that than ya do for the detective game. But I never put much stock in dem Turbot Cards he fools aroun' with anyhow. Don't even like fish. And I can't stand da Caliphonies, neither. Da truth hoits, Arsenio. I charges you more cuz I'm a tough love kinda guy, and da truth here is, mosta youse shoulda learned da foist time. Or da second time. Or da tird time. You follow me? Each time ya do it, you was dumber than da time before. If you ain't gonna follow da simple rule, you ain't gonna get no sympathy from ol' Shady. AnnManor writes: Dear Shady, (I likes it when youse dames are polite) Some people travel light. Not me. Wouldn't want to be caught in the back streets of Shanghai without my favorite ivory-handled pig sticker. So before I buy a ticket to anyplace, I wrap up my whole agency and ship it off ahead of me so that my wardrobe arrives at the same time I do. Trouble is, the Prince won't tell me if I can do this when I go off on one of his wild villain hunts. There's nobody in my agency but me, myself, and I...and a couple of cats. The mouse chasing kind. All I want with me is my gear, not the aid of other sleuths. Can I do this on a villain hunt. I know you hang out with a lot of villains, so ask around. I've paid you enough already to deserve this small favor. Ah da Villain hunts. They has been a nice little revenue raiser for yours truly. Watchin' youse all sweatin' it out tryin' to catch them Arch Villains, heh, brings a tear to the eye - much the same way da pair of pliers I keeps in my pocket for stubborn 'customers' can sometimes do. So AnnManor, you should do what's you can to get you through the night. Maybe you is one of these obsessive compulsive types I has heard about that needs to use their own john, who knows, but if you are cashed up and can shift your Agency arounds wid you, then by all means shift away. It don't mean a hill of beans in the greater scheme of things I reckon. Ask anyone who's been stuck in Delhi for a week or so with nothin' but the lowin' of da occasional Sacred Cow and some wise guy whisperin' 'West of da Chapel'. You could be Einstein and still not have enough smarts to make them clues come when you want 'em to. Hey now don't look at me like that. How could I possibly be involved... As to your somewhat solitary existence, personally, dis appeals to yours truly. There aint no place like home, and all the better if there's aint no-one round to ask you stupid questions like 'what's in dem garbage bags', and 'why do you need to takes a shovel down into da basement.' Anyway I hope dis' has helped some. Some o' youse wanna whacks philosophical wit' me, which I can understand. I ain't never whacked no Socratoes, no Play-Dough or no-one like that...I ain't dat old, see. But I'm well-read, an' I can prove it. Even your moderators got questions. L'il Rach asks: What is the secret of life? L'il, you're a sweet kid, but if I knew, would I be messed up in this racket? I can categorically say da answer ain't extortion. All I know is, good food, good wine, good friends makes good times. I read it on a fortune cookie paper I found stuck to a dog's paw in Shanghai once, and I been pretty happy since. Now to a question that is close to my heart. (Yeah I got one you bums). Agent Andrew asks "Who knows what evil lurks in the heart of man?" Now dis is somethin' yours truly could wax lyrical on til dose aforementioned Sacred Cows come home. I have seens da full gambit of human emotion, from da sickly sweet 'Jesus wants to sings you a Rainbow', to dose that would make the Grim Reaper look like nothin' more than a Girl Scout on a sugar high. But to tells you da truth, I aint come across many that weren't corruptible, seducable, bribable, or just downright compliant to the many vices that I can supply them wid. Faust aint fiction, it's life. Like I said, I reads. I aint no barfly sittin lookin' at life through the bottom of no whiskey glass. Sure I like a drink, but I has got literary pursoots. Think I got to where I am without a little Machiavelli and a pinch (or is that a slap) of da Marquis de Sade? So there aint no pullin da wool over these eyes with your high falutin' ways. Use yer big words, I got 'em too, in spades. So Agent Andrew, we has all got a picture of Dorian Gray lurkin under a dust cover somewhere, you just got to know where to look. And trust me when I say, I do. Ok movin' right along. Rosamund Clifford asks: Dear Shady, (Notice I am answerin' them questions which is polite and courteous. Them that knows their place get's a place in the know... If you sees my point.) If you're in the right mood, I'd like you to tell me is there any chance of something new happening in Cairo, for instance a new kind of hunt (not just a treasure hunt) and shall we ever be able to move agencies or have apartments there. I has to admit I don't mess too much in the machinations of Big Mama. What she gets Fezboy to doles out to you bozos is her business. I just try to find a way to cash in! But I has to agree, Cairo aint all it's cracked up to be. I don't like da sand, I don't like da sun, and I don't like hagglin' with da locals. Last time I went to Cairo to collect I ended up with two Cashmere rugs and a camel named Delilah. But that's a story for another day. I hear that Big Mama IS openin' up some apartments in Cairo soon, and dat there will be more to see than just those lousy pyramids. I hear there'll be some work shoe shopping for Big Mama, or maybe she'll just have you bozos sweepin' out the catacombs so's she can let da Sleuth Brat loose down there. Not exactly my idea of a dishonest day's work, but whatever it is, I'm sure I'll get plenty of business cleaning up da fallout. Until that time I will be steerin a wide berth, wid the occasional visit to the catacombs. After all da basement 'is' getting kinda full... On to Cordelia Falco who asks: Shady, I've never believed in this whole 'forgotten birthday' motive malarkey. What's the real deal there? Well Miss Falco, what can I say... I could tells you that I am coverin' up some truly evil things. That for example, Isador Smith's real motive for killin' his brother William was to collect on da life insurance, or coz William was a bit too shifty with his hands round Isador's old lady, but in reality, sometimes da truth is more disturbin' than da lie. A forgotten birthday can stabs at your heart deeper than any switchblade. (That I add, I may or may not be carryin on my person) And dare I say it (and excuse me while I gag a little) love is a funny, fickle thing, am I right?! Some of us can shake off da little things: missed birthdays, anniversaries, and da like, and some of us well we takes a rusty ice pick and... I leaves the rest to yer collective imaginations. So Cordelia sometimes you just have to take things at face value, and if youse happen to forget a loved one's birthday, remember to hide the steak knives before you go to bed that night. Speakin', as we were, of meat, Oscar Meyer wants to know: Can you cut me a deal on FA prices? Oscar, those in the know got at least two ways to get a deal on my fees. An' I gots expensive tastes. So if you ain't gonna read between the lines on the boards, or answer me when I axe you for a deal on bologna, I ain't gonna do you no favors neither. Oh, and Taluns - next time you axe why other detectives have strange names, you mighta wanna start da investigation at home, unless you got an illiterate eagle for a pet. Until next time, Shady.		Archive Yakkity Yak, Shady Talks Back 7 April, 2010 You Can't Always Gets What You Wants January 15, 2010 Two and Two Equals... November 15, 2009 Gotta Tell Ya October 3, 2009 Da Basics August 30, 2009 Love is in da Air July 30, 2009 It's a Crazy World June 23, 2009 Da World is Full of Pirates May 27, 2009 Da Circle of Life August 19, 2007 Beauty July 18, 2007 Sleutherapy June 21, 2007 Slow Learners May 21, 2007 Truth April 25, 2007 Posers April 11, 2007 Ask Shady a Question You must Login to ask Shady a question.



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