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The Tibbs Reader: The House at 2814

July 20, 2017 Leave a comment

Ferguson Bunts?

Bunts stood at the counter, admiring the crazy-horse leather journal– coptic-bound with a tie-closure made of the finest island silk. The initials “G.T.” were hand-pressed into the cowhide in pure gold. A strange symbol, specially designed by Bunts himself, was in-laid into the center of the cover in ivory.

“Fine work, fine work indeed Mr. Chester. Why, this is a MOST DELIGHTFUL tablet!”

The stationer looked at the initials. “Thought your name was Bunts.”

“Indeed! Indeed it is,” Bunts replied. “But this exquisite cahier is a birthday offering for my dearest schoolmate and confidant Gertrude Tork.”

“Lady friend,” the stationer said suggestively.

Bunts lowered his voice.

“Our intimacy transcends the lecherous ideas in your head, Mr. Chester.”

Chester looked at the floor.

“Not that I have failed to muse on those things carnal,” Bunts boomed loudly. “But, as the poet said, “the act of fornication is akin to a rose growing in winter!”

“What poet?”

“A 17th-century bard of the continent. You would not be familiar with his work. Tis’ only available in the most obscure libraries.”

Bunts threw several large bills on the counter while Chester wrapped the tablet in brown paper. Bunts then examined a rack of fountain pens but put each back with a sort of nauseous disdain.

He drove into town and into an older neighborhood of run-down homes. At the crest of a hill at a cross-street, bordered on one side by an unkempt graveyard and on another by a mysterious flat factory of nebulous purpose, Bunts parked the shiny new Neptune.

He turned a corner onto a short street and began passing a series of large ancient homes that had been broken into apartments and empty overgrown lots. The homes became progressively smaller as he descended the hill until he arrived at a series of duplexes.

“AHA! THE VENERABLE 2814. THERE SHE IS, THE FROWZY EDIFICE OF ABOMINATION!” Bunts boomed loudly. A nearby neighbor, senselessly hoeing a patch of dirt, looked up with confusion.

He walked around the side of 2814. It was a duplex (one half of which was boarded) and featured a strange inaccessible porch completely covered with plastic latticework. The day was sweltering– all of the windows to 2814 stood open and bereft of screens like wide-open mouths. He banged at the side door loudly and removed a pure silver cigarette case from his white suit coat.

After some time a busty blonde woman, perhaps in her forties, answered the door in a tight bodice.

“MY DEAR!” Bunts boomed. “WHAT AN ABSOLUTE, UNPARALLELED DELIGHT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!”

“Would you keep it down, fer’ Chrissakes,” said the woman, who grabbed the big man’s hand and led him up a stairwell. The walls were all stained yellow with nicotine.

Bunts closely watched her curvy posterior bouncing up the steps.

“WHAT A DELIGHT!” he remarked.

The room was large but stuffy– a dented box fan failed to provide any breeze and oscillated with a loud, slow creak. Clothes and spent food containers were strewn everywhere. A television buzzed senselessly and the large bed was unmade. A wicker papasan chair was covered with tawdry paperbacks.

Bunts pushed them aside and plopped into the chair. “I SEE, MY DEAR, THAT YOU CONTINUE TO READ TRIFLING MATTERS. WHY, HAVE YOU NOT EVEN OPENED THE GREAT WORKS OF LITERATURE THAT I BROUGHT TO YOU?”

“There ain’t nothing wrong with them terrorist attack novels,” she said. Bunts admired her bosom and lit another cigarette.

“I HAVE BROUGHT YOU ANOTHER MEMENTO TO SHOW MY DEEP, ABIDING AFFECTION FOR YOU DEAR. IT’S A TABLET, ONE OF THE FINEST YOU SHALL EVER SEE.” He handed her the gift. She tossed it on the bed.

“Alright, Daddy. What’s it going to be today? Are the teeth in or out?”

“AH. WHAT A DELIGHT! YOU, MY DEAREST LOVE, ARE AN IMMORTAL OFFERING OF FEMININITY STRAIGHT FROM THE GODS! LET US THANK THEM BY REMOVING THE TEETH– THAT WRETCHED CARTILAGE!”

WHAT AN UNMITIGATED DELIGHT THIS SHALL BE!” Bunts said after a long pause.

He rose from the papasan. The woman removed her dentures and placed them on the bed stand.

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The Tibbs Reader: Officer Gentry

June 9, 2017 Leave a comment

Officer Gil Gentry

Officer Gentry was interviewed in 2014.

Listen, let me first tell you that Gil Gentry is no bullshitter. So, I’ll tell you exactly how it happened, best I can remember.

Steve and I were on patrol and we was parked behind a laundromat and on the second floor of the laundromat was this apartment and in that apartment was a girl named Agnes. Now, Agnes worked at The Holiday House which was a meat and potatoes kind of place but upscale. Nice, you know? Kind of place you’d take your mother out or somethin’, provided you didn’t want to blow a lot of scratch. Anyway, everybody in town liked Agnes. Not only did she have a good personality but she had, and let me tell you, two of the best god damn melons you could ever hope for. And I ain’t talking about god damn produce. I’m talking just the most perfect god damn gazongas. I mean, these things were so god damn perfect that you’d think that somebody said to God, “Hey God, how about making the best bazooms ever imagined” and God said, “Yeah, sure, I’m out for that challenge” and BOOM, he come up with Agnes.

The interview asked Officer Gentry to get to the point.

OK, look, anyways Steve and I– I’ll admit it– we was watching Agnes undress. I know…I know…we shouldn’t a’ been doing that but there you go.

Anyway, a call comes over the radio. Shots fired out at Lake Rancho Berries.

Steve says, “Anybody hurt?”

“No. Nobody hurt. A couple of people pretty scared though.”

“Shit,” Steve said once the call was over. “Might as well take our time on this one, Gil. Look, Agnes is taking her panties off.”

Well, anyway, I ain’t proud of it. But anyway, after about two hours of watching Agnes undress repeatedly for some reason, we finally get out there to the Lake. Connie Ryan from over Almond County was already there.

“What the hell took you rubes so long to get here?” he barked.

“Pressing matter,” Steve said. “What do we have here?”

It was at that point, I observed two kids wrapped in towels and sitting on the curb.

“This here is Mike Ferron and Leslie Porchtops. These two was making out…”

“We were NOT making out,” the girl named Leslie called out.

Connie leaned in close. “I like to think they were making out. Spices things up, you know.”

“Absolutely,” Steve said. “Roll with that.”

Ferguson Bunts?

“OK, anyway these two were making out (Leslie started shaking her head indignantly) and I believe that Mike here had her bra half off with her perky breasts partially exposed and the next thing you know, shots are hitting the water all in front of them. Well, Leslie, who by now was completely nude (Leslie barked out again), well, she an’ Mike jumped in the water.”

“He didn’t fire again?” I asked.

“No sir,” Connie answered. “Just packed up his gun, actually told them to have a good day, and drove off.”

Connie reached into his pocket. “Recovered a couple of casings– looking like he unloaded with an AR-15, my guess.”

“Sounds like he didn’t intend to hit you, then?” Steve asked.

The boy spoke first. “Every shot hit the water.”

“Get a good look at him?” Steve asked.

“Yeah, absolutely…he…”

“I DID NOT HAVE MY BRA OR PANTIES OFF!” Leslie suddenly called out.

“Listen, clam up would you?” Steve said.

“He was a big guy, I’d say maybe 250 pounds. He had a beard and he wore a three-piece white suit.”

We all stared at each other. It was a long time before Steve spoke.

“Well, listen, kids– nobody was hurt. What do you say we just call it square, huh?”

“CALL IT SQUARE?” Leslie hollered. “He shot at us!”

“YEAH!” Mike followed.

“Listen, you,” Connie said, pointing to the girl,”one more outburst and I’m hauling your lovely, fully-blossomed, doubtlessly firm and supple ass downtown.”

“But, aren’t you even going to fill out a report?” Mike asked.

“Let’s just call it square,” Steve said again– a little more firm this time around.

So, anyway, we saw the kids off in their fancy pants car and Steve and I– we went back to the parking lot behind the laundromat where, for reasons unclear, Agnes was still dressing and undressing. I think maybe later we got milkshakes. But that really was the last we heard of the whole thing.

The Tibbs Reader: Incident at Lake Rancho Berries

June 9, 2017 Leave a comment

Ferguson Bunts?

Bunts sat in his darkened study loading a Prince of Lankville AR-15. He attached the laser sight and versa pod.

IF YOU ARE LOOKING FOR THE ULTIMATE IN ACCURACY OUT OF AN AR-15 RIFLE, LOOK NO FURTHER! he boomed. He then laughed senselessly for a full minute until tears began to run down his bearded cheeks.

He placed the weapon into a duffel bag, walked outside into blinding sunlight, and tumbled into the white sports car, parked at an odd angle in the driveway.

He drove at a leisurely pace down Route 55 and turned onto Rural Route 9 away from Almond Beach towards Lake Rancho Berries. The surrounding countryside and rolling hills soon became visible.

LAKE RANCHO BERRIES IS THE PERRRRRFECT DESTINATION TO RELAX FOR A WEEKEND. He was nearly screaming now. WHETHER YOU’RE LOOKING TO ENJOY THE LAKE IN AN RV OR A TENT… He suddenly nodded off and nearly drove the car off the road. He pulled to the side, listening to the crunch of gravel beneath. He dozed for a full half hour.

When he woke, he was briefly unaware of where he was. OF COURSE, MRS. STOCKSDALE, OF COURSE DEAR– AS YOU KNOW, I AM QUITE SKILLED AT THAT MOST DELIGHTFUL ACT OF STIMULATION, he blurted out, his mouth dry and his voice hoarse.

There was a bottle of Old Lankville on the floor. It was warm from the sun but he took a long swig anyway until the bottle was nearly empty. He tossed it into the trees along the road.

He pulled away, passing the pumping station on the left. A worker, standing by the gate, took notice.

WELL, I SHALL HAVE TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT HIM, Bunts declared to no one.

He made a U-turn and pulled into the lot at an odd angle. The man began fiddling with the padlock on the gate. Bunts stared hard at him through the sun-spattered windshield. Then, he rolled down the window.

I wonder, did you take notice of the man in the white sports car? he asked in a low, menacing voice.

The man tugged at his cap.

Did you take note of his unusual appearance perhaps? The beard, the white three-piece suit? These are the sort of things an observant man might perceive. But he would be wise to forget. To forget.

THE COW KNOWS NO BOREDOM OR PAIN, he suddenly boomed. SHE CANNOT REMEMBER!

“She also gets slaughtered after a time,” the man noted.

EXACTLY! Bunts responded. I COULD TELL RIGHT AWAY THAT YOU WERE A MAN OF SENSE!

Bunts backed the car onto the highway and began laughing hysterically.

 

He scanned the parking lot overlooking the lake. A luxury car, spotlessly clean, sat idle and empty.

WHAT A DELIGHTFUL DAY, Bunts boomed. He took notice of another half bottle of Old Lankville which had emerged from beneath the passenger seat upon stopping.

AND EVEN MORE DELIGHTFUL NOW!  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

He clicked on the radio and found a station out of the East playing light trumpets. He drained the rest of the bottle.

The sun disappeared behind some clouds and the lake grew darker.

Bunts slowly lifted himself out of the car. On unsteady legs, he removed the duffel bag from the trunk and began negotiating the long hill that ran down to the water.

He had spotted them from the parking lot. A young couple, sunning themselves on a picnic blanket, at the end of the promontory that jutted out into Lake Rancho Berries.

AH, YOUNG JEJUNE LOVE. WHAT A DELIGHT!  Bunts removed the AR-15 from the bag, attached the sight and folded down the versa pod. He then fired nine shots in a perfect semi-circle into the water in front of the couple.

The man and the woman both covered their heads and then the woman began screaming. The man grabbed her and the two jumped into the water. They were under for a full half minute.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, Tibbs boomed.

He disengaged the sight, folded up the versa pod and placed everything into the duffel bag. Then, he ambled up the hill.

When he got to the parking lot, he looked back. The couple had their heads half out of the water, staring at him. He waved.

HAVE A GOOD DAY, he yelled.

 

He got into the car and drove back to Almond Beach. When he passed the pumping station, he saw no one.