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I idly fingered the books on my shelf, finding myself mentally transported through time and space as my fingers teased the tattered and well-read bindings. My wandering settled upon a title I knew well, that had served me well so far. A book that made me who I am today: some might call me pudgy, mom calls me her big tough man. Handsome, with a rapist wit. I paused my self-fellation and returned to the book. "Hrm... How would Luke Skywalker handle this situation if it happened at the New Jedi Order training facility on Yavin 4?" I wondered aloud, flipping open to the familiar first chapter. Maybe I'd find the answers I need to crack this case inside. I just needed to trust my instinct, let the midichlorians flow freely and use the force.
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May 21, 2014 17:39
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| # ? May 2, 2024 01:09 |
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Sam Sperglord opened his eyes once again. The client was still there, staring at the bespectacled and surprisingly frail private dectective. The woman looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn't. Sam proceeded to climb under his massive office desk. "Go away!" he cried, "go away and come back tomorrow!". Rambling Robot fucked around with this message at 17:44 on May 21, 2014 |
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May 21, 2014 17:40
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The broad's peepers were blue, I think, I couldn't look directly at them.
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May 21, 2014 17:44
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May 21, 2014 17:46
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I told her I'd take the case but only after she read this web comic about how to treat introverts.
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May 21, 2014 17:49
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MattO posted:The broad's peepers were (#3366CC), I think, I couldn't look directly at them.
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May 21, 2014 17:52
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I wish I refused the case upfront, the dame was useless in a fight. She kept forgetting to shout out 'Lightning Bolt! Lightning Bolt! Lightning Bolt!'.
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May 21, 2014 18:01
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I could have sworn I'd heard this all before. You'd think a sap like me would be used to it by now, but her words still pierced my heart like pitchforks. I'd given the broad everything I had but she wasn't having any of it. She'd stopped yapping at that point. She was just waiting for me to say something back. I knew I couldn't let things end like that, so I took a roll of the dice and hoped the next thing I said would knock her for a loop. I decided to go with dialogue option two. "The truth is... I like you, sempai."
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May 21, 2014 18:22
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The pavement ahead of me steamed, as the rain quickly evaporated in the hot, muggy night. I strode on, with my precious cargo in tow. The dame had made a simple request, and I was happy to oblige - I knew it would be worth my while. Finally, I reached her residence, I knocked as best I could. She answered the door with a man, my world was shattered. "You can set the printer up in my room, it's right this way" she beckoned. I followed, trying to hide my dejection. She showed me the files she needed printed and left the room. The broad had double crossed me. My eyes fell over her webcam. Well, looks like this trip might have been worth it after all.
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May 21, 2014 18:40
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Dely Apple posted:Aatrek Spade drew a vape from his neon blue e-cig, glistening like a raspberry ring pop in the light shaft, and said, "Drop the lies, sweetheart. This act is getting old."
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May 21, 2014 18:58
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"Sam," he said. "Leave it well enough alone." I stared at Dan's pen. I couldn't look him in the eye just then, and not just for the usual reasons. It was a good pen. Fountain, gold on black dragon design. Me and the old gang got it for him back when he left the guild. Before it all got to be too much. Before it all fell apart and we all went our separate, tragic ways. "I like your pen," I said. He winced. Definitely got him with that one. I'm not so great at reading emotion, but I'm sure he felt shame. Score one for Sam. "Sam, I know we were friends. Are. Are friends. That's why I'm telling you to leave it. For your own good." I kept staring at his pen. The curve of the dragon's spine. The delicate scales. I'm a big fan of dragons. I wondered if Dan really appreciated that pen as much as I would've. "For gently caress's sake, Sam!" He raised his voice. It made me edgy. Bad memories dating way, way back. "There's just you and me now. We're all that's left. They got Tommy two years ago! He's gone. Won't answer his email. Hasn't been online. I finally called up his mother. Know what she told me? He won't touch the computer anymore. Too many bad memories. Wouldn't even tell him I called because it'd send him in a fit. Is that how you want to end up!?" I didn't like him yelling at me. I knew I was winning - he'd lost his temper, but it was still real hard to take. The pen was something to focus on while it all washed over me. "Fine." He jerked the pen away. That startled me, but he didn't notice. He was too busy with his ink-well ritual. "If that's how you want to play it, Sam, fine. There's a comic shop on the corner of Brice and Main. Not one of the big names. Little mom and son place, though she doesn't come downstairs too much. Here's the address." He slid a paper over. I nearly took it when I saw his hand twitch. Don't worry, Danny. I remember. I leaned forward and blew on the ink. No splatters. No mess. "It really is a nice pen, Dan," I said. "I know, Sam." He sunk back into his chair. Tears stained his cheeks. "I know." Paper in hand, I turned and walked out, leaving poor old Danny alone with his demons. I'd never see him alive again.
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May 21, 2014 19:51
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It was all a set-up. The dame had betrayed me. I can't believe it; I'M SUCH A NICE GUY. I came to in my office/bedroom/mom's basement tied to my swirly chair with the Cheeto crumbs embedded deep within the fabric. Standing in front of me was Broseph Douchemeister, my old nemesis. "Sweet fedora, brah" he said mockingly, jealous of my class and style. He paced around my office eyeing up my precious mint-condition pop culture memorabilia. Then he went too far and picked up my 1:1 scale Rainbow Dash plushie with the anatomically-correct, fully-functional, self-cleaning vagina. "GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY WAIFU YOU FILTHY CASUAL!" I screamed.
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May 21, 2014 20:04
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The dame walked into the room. I was unsure what to call say next, I did not know what pronoun she would like to be called.
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May 21, 2014 20:46
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business was awful as of late. my bit wallet was practically swarming with moths. if i was going to drum up any new clientelle ide need to advertise. i knew exactly what ide need: some crayons (crayola brand), a poster board, some glue. i started writing. "21 year old SINGLE WHITE MALE seeking 18-21 year old BOYFRIEND FREE female companion...
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May 21, 2014 21:22
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I fiddled with the flap on my short's cargo pocket, securing my e-cig inside. It was Tuesday May 20, 2014 at 15:53 EST. The temperature was 62 degrees Fahrenheit and the humidity was at a comfortable 43%. I looked around the park for the female's husband. Nowhere to be seen. She said he'd be here at 15:50 and exactly three minutes and 12 seconds has already passed since then. Far too much time. She said he'd be here, she lied. I pulled out my Google Nexus smartphone and logged into reddit.com/r/redpill and posted a new self-post. "This slut-female told me to follow her husband who was rightfully cheating on her. She is a slut liar and she put me in the friendzone." I smirked and adjusted my fedora after the phone was back in the front-left pocket in my trench coat (that I got at Sears, not some two-bit store like Wal-Mart) knowing that I had just put that slut in her place. I didn't need whore-gotten gains anyway. I'd pay my rent in bit-coins earned from MLP:FIM-Sonic the Hedgehog crossover fanart. It was just then I saw the slut-whore female's husband get out of his car. "N-n.. n-no, what have I done?" I killed him just so I wouldn't be wrong.
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May 21, 2014 21:25
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Blurry Gray Thing posted:"Sam," he said. "Leave it well enough alone." this unironically owns
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May 21, 2014 21:26
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She tried to get one over on me. "You know how to whistle, don't you," she asked. "Just put your lips together and-" "If your lips are together you can't whistle." Checkmate.
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May 21, 2014 21:32
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Parallax Scroll posted:someone tell me if this is actually funny before i read it worth it. on point
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May 21, 2014 21:32
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"sweet ride" he said. "it'd be a shame if somebody took it." he gripped his pistol and pointed it my direction. lucky for me, i knew exactly what would change his mind. "It's a 1949 Buick Roadmaster. Straight 8. Fireball 8. Only 8,985 production models. Dad lets me drive slow on the driveway. But not on Monday, definitely not on Monday."
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May 21, 2014 21:35
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Sardonik posted:The pavement ahead of me steamed, as the rain quickly evaporated in the hot, muggy night. I strode on, with my precious cargo in tow. The dame had made a simple request, and I was happy to oblige - I knew it would be worth my while. Finally, I reached her residence, I knocked as best I could. 5'd
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May 21, 2014 21:54
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The speakeasy was crawling with the worst the city had to offer. Just walking from the door to the bar meant bumping into at least three of the cities most wanted. The air was thick with a smell of sweat, cheap tobacco and even cheaper booze. The patrons were doing their best to drown out the band with their hooting and hollering. Normally I detest the jungle noise masquerading as music that is jazz but this band was somehow different. Their lyrics weren´t about drugs, dames or crime like what most of the "artists" in the genre sing about. These gentlemen were obviouslly intelligent as the songs were about sophisticated and intelligent interests like chess, stamp collecting and trains. Now this is real music.
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May 21, 2014 22:36
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"play it again, sam" i said as i brought my 2-liter to my lips. then i hit the play button in winamp (han solo skin, obviously)
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May 21, 2014 22:57
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Brick chips cut my cheek as rounds slammed into the wall beside me. Taking cover behind the old dumpster I couldn't get a clear view of the shooter, only his legs under the car he was behind. My old .38 wasn't going to punch through that, but firing at the pavement underneath skipped a round right into his left shin, he went down with a curse. Three more sent into his now prone body ensured he wouldn't be getting back up. As the sounds of the gunshots faded I could hear the sound of approaching sirens, but it was ok, the O scale train hobby shop was safe. I was safe.
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May 22, 2014 00:27
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I held the door open, offering a tip of my fedora as she walked by. "m'lady" No response. No matter. I had brought my pixelblocks and could do this all day at the mall while stalking my mark.
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May 22, 2014 01:06
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First time this doll showed up in my office, she just about stopped my heart. Two brilliant, inviting eyes pop into view, inescapebly, and look right into me- eyes that look straight into the deepest part of a man's soul and greet it with a warm smile. She's the kind of woman makes you feel calm just listening to the silk of her voice. Those pinkish lips perk up at the corners and open to say it "Good morning Sperglord-san" and after a beat her head cocks and her eyes close, peaking up in the middle, almost comically. I tip my hat and motion my clicking finger one more time "Good morning Sperglord-san" Pontificating Ass fucked around with this message at 04:33 on May 23, 2014 |
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May 22, 2014 01:48
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No Such Thing posted:"Yea, the body was found in three pieces, the head in the 2nd passenger car, one leg in the 3rd, and most of the torso mangled in one of the cargo containers."
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May 22, 2014 01:57
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 Sperglord picked up the compact mirror, turning it in his hand over and over. "Probably nothing" he said, as he put it down. He picked up a tie clip from the dresser, and felt a small vibration and a little sound play in his head. He quickly drew a pencil sketch of it in great detail, before putting it down. He had all the evidence he needed to nail the perp. As he went into the kitchen where his partner was grilling the suspect, he stopped, and noticed a table full of small, assorted objects. He was drawn to them like a moth to a flame. "Probably nothing" "This doesn't tell me anything" "This isn't helpful" "Probably nothing" "Probably nothing" "Probably nothing" "Probably nothing" "Probably nothing" It was going to be a long night for the detective.
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May 22, 2014 02:03
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goldmine this tia
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May 22, 2014 02:06
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cat doter posted:i posted a thread on gbs asking goons to solve my case for me
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May 22, 2014 03:41
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After searching the crime scene extensively, I was able to turn up a single cigarette butt. To begin my analysis, I began to rub it on my lips in slow circles while moaning softly.
sesame_samuel_ fucked around with this message at 06:07 on May 22, 2014 |
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May 22, 2014 04:02
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The female parted wreaths of ecig vapor as she entered the office. She was only an HB8, hardly worth the time, though she was prettier in the dim light. Sam tipped back his fedora (certainly not to be confused with a trilby or porkpie) and looked appraisingly, smirking ''nice shoes, my grandmother wore a similar pair.'' With another sick neg or two, the female would be putty in his hands.
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May 22, 2014 04:52
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May 22, 2014 04:54
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I found him half asleep at the bar in the Ace Tavern, a washed up grifter getting grifted by the bottle. Thousand drunks just like him at a thousand joints in this city but Larry was special. Larry was the last man to see Margaret Johnson before she disappeared. I smiled widely as I approached. “HELLO,” I said and hugged him. People like it when you hug them. “Hey man, what is this? Get the hell off me!” Larry yelled, shoving me away. “DO YOU LIKE THIS BAR? THE MUSIC IS VERY LOUD.” I put my fingers in my ears and grimaced to show him what I meant. “What are you talking about? Who are you?” “I'M SAM IT'S VERY NICE TO MEET YOU, MAY I SIT WITH YOU PLEASE?” “Nah man, just go away. Just get the gently caress away from me, okay?” “OKAY, I'M SORRY.” I left the bar smiling even though I was quivering inside. I knew I could never go back there. Everyone had seen. I spent the next three days rearranging my files to make pictures of dinosaurs and ignoring the ringing phone. When Mr. Johnson finally came by the office I screamed “I'M NOT FINDING YOUR DAUGHTER ANYMORE I'M TOO BUSY!” and slammed the door in his face. Even LA's top Austic Investigator knows when to quit. swampland fucked around with this message at 07:32 on May 22, 2014 |
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May 22, 2014 07:24
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"Say, sister, are you alright? You must be pretty shaken up, witnessing something that gruesome." "I'm devastated, okay?" she snapped. I believed her, because why would anyone lie about their feelings?
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May 22, 2014 07:29
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I think a lot of these are Max R. Able, MRA investigator. It's an easy mistake to make, they share the same office building. swampland posted:I found him half asleep at the bar in the Ace Tavern, a washed up grifter getting grifted by the bottle. Thousand drunks just like him at a thousand joints in this city but Larry was special. Larry was the last man to see Margaret Johnson before she disappeared. But this owns.
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May 22, 2014 07:44
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Blurry Gray Thing posted:"Sam," he said. "Leave it well enough alone." holy poo poo
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May 22, 2014 08:38
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Sardonik posted:The pavement ahead of me steamed, as the rain quickly evaporated in the hot, muggy night. I strode on, with my precious cargo in tow. The dame had made a simple request, and I was happy to oblige - I knew it would be worth my while. Finally, I reached her residence, I knocked as best I could.  Well done.
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May 22, 2014 08:53
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EngineerSean posted:holy poo poo Its less impressive once you know how posting weird and pretty autistic detective stories on SA used to be my biggest gimmick. I've done it a whole lot.
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May 22, 2014 09:47
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She was all dame. Blue eyes like heaven above lips redder than hell, framed by an artful mess of black curls. My eyes traveled downwards to the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hips; it was raining hard outside and her soaked dress didn't so much hide as accentuate. Ugh. 3D pig ugly.
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May 22, 2014 11:04
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| # ? May 2, 2024 01:09 |
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It had taken a while, but I had tracked down the client's daughter to a dingy bordello on the outskirts. How noone else had bothered to search for her on prostitution rating sites is beyond me. But this is what they pay me, Sam Sperglord, for. I am renowned for my Google-fu, after all. But finding her online had been the easy part. Now I had to actually rescue her. I hated this part of the job. If only I could find a partner to work with who handles this part of the job, life would be a lot easier. But mom doesn't want to do it, as usual, so it was up to me. "Time to be the hero, Sam." I stood outside the bordello. It was a rundown shack, there probably wouldn't be many people here, especially at this time of day. I stared at the door and drew my trusty Katana. "You can do this, Sam. You are like Naruto." I busted into the room, Katana in front of me. Her pimp didn't see me coming. He was probably high on something, too. They all are. "Hand over the girl!" He dropped his phone. "What the gently caress? Who are you? And what girl?" "The blond one! Her father sent me! Hand over the girl!" I yelled, staring at the wall behind him. This was going well. Naruto would be proud. "Alright, alright, man. A loving sword, I can't believe it. Candy, get your rear end in here!" The man was clearly a philistine. "It is not a sword. It is a Katana, the most powerful blade in the world! Forged from hanzo steel in glorious Nippon!" He stared at me blankly. My wit had blinded him. The girl appeared in the doorway. "What is going on?" "I am here to rescue you. Your father sent me." "Oh thank God! Daddy!" Tears appeared in her eyes as she hugged me. This wasn't part of the deal. Oh no, not at all. And to make matters worse, I now had an erection. How was I to deal with this? I was not going to sully my reputation by appearing interested in a three-dimensional woman. Especially not a whore. God knows how many people had touched her body. I was in a bind. Then it hit me. I dropped the Katana and got on all fours, backing out of the room, meowing. The pimp and Candy stared at me, obviously impressed by my perfect cat impression. "You are a genius, Sam," I thought. Someone else would have to get the girl, but at least I left with my honor intact. You can't put a price on that.
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May 22, 2014 11:15
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