FanPost

Dick Diamond And The Case Of The Woefully Waffling Writer

Dragged on a Lucky Strike and exhaled slowly through my nose. Smoke hung around my head like a halo. Grinned. Never thought I'd be wearin' one of those. Ground the wasted butt under my heel and tossed the empty pack aside.

Chill in the air. Drained the last few drops of gin from a dented flask. That'll hold me for a while. Pulled the faded fedora down around my ears. Flipped the collar and sunk deeper into my trenchcoat. Streetlamp did little to warm me. Waitin'. Still waitin'.

What's it been? Six.....Seven months. "I'm busy," he says. What a mook.

Busy? We're all busy. I got better things to do. Could be at Capt. Lou's Jiggly Hut stuffin' Monopoly money in G-strings. Could be on a bus to see Ma in the Pen. Or rollin' winos in the alley behind the OTB.

Klempski. We're still here. Spencer had 11 sacks. Where's your homework, cupcake? 500 words.....I can think of a few.

Think this little disappearin' act'll get to us? Think again, Mary. Been through the ringer once or twice in my day. Seen it all.....Stuff that'd shrivel your toolbag. Was born under a pool table in the back room of a Reno brothel. Ma pushed me out, smoked some yahoo at 9-ball, tattooed a cobra on her face with a needle she pulled from a dead guy in the corner, then went upstairs and turned a pimply-faced sailor into a man. Went downhill from there. Not my first rodeo, lamp chop.

Got time. Ain't goin' nowhere. I'll be waitin'. And watchin'. Dick Diamond never sleeps, cuddles. Passes out from time to time.....But never sleeps.

Waitin', Klempski.....Still waitin'.