Rennie Stennett: Bounty Hunter
I’m a simple man. Got a simple apartment with a couple of couches, a nice leather lounger, curtains. I rest easy at night. Occasionally, I slap a batch around, depending on who I run across down at the boat launch.
And then the call comes– usually from Detective Gee-Temple or the Bureau of Probes.
“What you got for me?” I’ll say.
“We’ve got a maniac on the loose. Escaped from Briles Farms,” they’ll say (or something like that).
And so I’m off. I have a yellow school bus that I bought to throw the perp off. It’s got a little fan up front– nice deal. Anyway, you drive along these Lankville country roads or through the desert and the perp, see, he thinks to himself just a school bus, just a school bus and the next thing he knows, I’m on him. Like a possum in a persimmon tree. Yep, on him hard– I’m not bound by any sort of this police brutality crap. Because I’m not police.
I’m Rennie Stennett, Bounty Hunter.
So, I cuff the perp and I always put him on the hump. You know the hump. Worst place on the bus, right over the back wheel. No leg room. Makes them ancy, uncomfortable, like. The whole bus is empty but I put him on the hump anyway. I watch him in the mirror as I take him back to HQ or over to the BOP offices.
“You got him quick, Rennie,” they’ll say. And they take him and then they hand me a folded check. Usually somewhere in the vicinity of five to ten grand. All that for taking a bus out and shoving some guy’s face in the dust. It’s alright.
I take the check over to the Bank of Lankville branch– the one where Debbie works. Debbie’s my girl– she’s about 6’5 and she sells every bit of that.
“Made some money today, did you?” she’ll say, licking her teeth free of peanut butter.
“Yeah, babe. Easy. Easy as pie.”
“Maybe you’d like to spend a little of that money? Maybe?”
“Sure, babe. Let’s go over to the Casa.” That’s the Casa as in the Casa Montecristo (an elegant reception hall).
“Oooh, fancy,” Debbie says. “Better get my nice pantsuit out of mothballs.”
“You better. You’ll be needing it, at least for a little while.”
She smiles and clears the rest of that peanut butter from around her mouth with her tongue.
Yeah, it’s a good life. You just can’t weaken.
The opinions of Rennie Stennett are not necessarily the opinions of The Lankville Daily News or any of its subsidiaries.
LETTER SACK