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# ? Aug 21, 2016 17:02 |
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# ? Apr 28, 2024 22:03 |
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WHO DUNIT
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 17:03 |
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Saint Isaias Boner posted:the first guy you said I'm a phil marlowe man myself... quote:When I got home I mixed a stiff one and stood by the open window in the living room and sipped it and listened to the groundswell of traffic on Laurel Canyon Boulevard and looked at the glare of the big angry city hanging over the shoulder of the hills through which the boulevard had been cut. Far off the banshee wail of police or fire sirens rose and fell, never for very long completely silent. Twenty four hours a day somebody is running, somebody else is trying to catch him. Out there in the night of a thousand crimes, people were dying, being maimed, cut by flying glass, crushed against steering wheels or under heavy tires. People were being beaten, robbed, strangled, raped, and murdered. People were hungry, sick; bored, desperate with loneliness or remorse or fear, angry, cruel, feverish, shaken by sobs. A city no worse than others, a city rich and vigorous and full of pride, a city lost and beaten and full of emptiness. It all depends on where you sit and what your own private score is. I didn't have one. I didn't care. I finished the drink and went to bed.
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 17:04 |
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Do police get jealous and angry at you or do they appreciate your help on cases they can't solve?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 17:06 |
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gannyGrabber posted:How many man's dongs have you touched while on a case? What's the max number for a single case? Do you touch dongs while not on a case? most dongs touched in a single case was about twenty on that big Wah Ching bust Dirk Squarejaw posted:Hi, I'm Kirk Hammett undercover pi. hi Beefeater posted:How many high speed chases occur on any given day? it depends but there's always at least one : when the receptionist brings the blintzes in before the morning brief Blue Train posted:what is your preferred drug to use when slipping someone a mickey i respect the law too much to slip people knock out drugs i prefer to punch them in the back of the head when they're not looking Roargasm posted:WHO DUNIT caught red-handed you crook Forward Toward posted:
hi Peebla posted:Do police get jealous and angry at you or do they appreciate your help on cases they can't solve? little known fact : police hate their uniforms and get jealous of anyone who's allowed to wear a suit on the job. also they can't arrest me just because they don't like me, it's win win
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 17:37 |
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Saint Isaias Boner posted:I don't know anything about it but i'll do my best to answer your questions.
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 17:46 |
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how's it going with the Case of the Hidden Tootsie? did you ever find out how many licks it really takes? did you ever nab mr. owl?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 17:48 |
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op, is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 17:49 |
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do you take your rings off before you introduce some lippy broad to the back of your hand
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 17:53 |
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Do you ever piss in your own mouth and rub feces on your desk, you know, to get into the minds of the criminals? Or do you even have a desk? Maybe you just live under a dock, hanging upside down like a bat? Waiting... Waiting...
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 18:02 |
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alnilam posted:how's it going with the Case of the Hidden Tootsie? did you ever find out how many licks it really takes? did you ever nab mr. owl? i don't know, i always end up biting it Hogge Wild posted:op, is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me? judging by the length of your rap sheet no one's ever happy to see you, creep Blue Train posted:do you take your rings off before you introduce some lippy broad to the back of your hand no because that would show premeditation and completely mess up my claims of self defense ClamdestineBoyster posted:Do you ever piss in your own mouth and rub feces on your desk, you know, to get into the minds of the criminals? Or do you even have a desk? Maybe you just live under a dock, hanging upside down like a bat? Waiting... Waiting... that's why i do it. sure, why not of course i have a desk, you palooka. where do you think i put my feet up on.
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 18:07 |
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As a 1950s man myself I enjoy a hearty breakfast of seven cigarettes and a donut. Often with coffee. What regimen do you recommend for a man with your constitution?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 18:15 |
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I hear that every case is about a dame. Is this accurate?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 18:27 |
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Did you know she was trouble the moment you saw her silhouette on the frosted glass of your office door?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 18:30 |
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do her legs end?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 18:45 |
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When a dame walks in your office with a case what is the ratio of her being the perp or the victim ? I'll take my answer off the air, thanks for the discussion.
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 19:11 |
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Oh, one more thing before I hang up. Did you know Turbo Textiles makes very dapper detective suits? Ok, thank you.
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 19:13 |
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the great deceiver got arrested by an undercover detective once, maybe he can chime in.... and save this pathetic op.
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 19:13 |
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i am gonna go sign up at the police to go undercover as a drug addict how much walking around money do you think that they'll give me to buy drugs and keep up the ruse ??
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 19:14 |
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Blacktoll posted:As a 1950s man myself I enjoy a hearty breakfast of seven cigarettes and a donut. Often with coffee. What regimen do you recommend for a man with your constitution? i like a belt of whiskey with some aspirin crushed up ins VendaGoat posted:I hear that every case is about a dame. Is this accurate? it's always a dame alnilam posted:Did you know she was trouble the moment you saw her silhouette on the frosted glass of your office door? no i usually have to wait for the minute the dame walks through the door Hogge Wild posted:do her legs end? they go up to her neck but they never quit King of Bees posted:When a dame walks in your office with a case what is the ratio of her being the perp or the victim ? I'll take my answer off the air, thanks for the discussion. i jsut flip a coin and that's what goes in the report King of Bees posted:Oh, one more thing before I hang up. Did you know Turbo Textiles makes very dapper detective suits? Ok, thank you. i'll get right on that lead thanks OctoberBlues posted:the great deceiver got arrested by an undercover detective once, maybe he can chime in.... and save this pathetic op. that was me. im no patheti cop thathonkey posted:i am gonna go sign up at the police to go undercover as a drug addict how much walking around money do you think that they'll give me to buy drugs and keep up the ruse ?? you get one standard cash loaf but it's mostly just a few jacksons wrapped around a huge roll of singles
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 19:27 |
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i can make that work
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 19:28 |
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thathonkey posted:i can make that work you got to go around shaking people down for bribes if you want to supplement your loaf but if you're anything like me you'll do that anyway
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 19:31 |
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Do you often need to crawl into dumpsters to look for clues? Do you ever find more than you bargained for?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 21:13 |
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have you hosed watson
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 21:14 |
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i tried to be a public dick and now im a sex offender ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 21:17 |
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Where is the jade monkey and who killed Hildebrand?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 21:22 |
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Mojo Threepwood posted:Do you often need to crawl into dumpsters to look for clues? Do you ever find more than you bargained for? yes but im often in dumpsters for unrelated reasons anyway, the clues are a bonus Hogge Wild posted:have you hosed watson watson works for sherlock holmes who is a "consulting detective", totally different line of work. but yes i have hosed watson JakeP posted:i tried to be a public dick and now im a sex offender ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ノ the law is a tightrope, hung between tenements of despair over a filthy, poo poo encrusted alleyway. let the zip of justice slide down even for a minute and you'll plummet from that tightrope like a drunk to the bottom of a bottle of whiskey and your name will be all over the sex offenders registry of sex offenders before you can say "you're flying at half mast, bucko". coulda happened to any of us. bunnyofdoom posted:Where is the jade monkey and who killed Hildebrand? check the glove compartment and john ragland respectively
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 21:29 |
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Give me your best, "A dame walks in", monologue.
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 21:36 |
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Are you a smooth operator? As a private dick, do you ever go gay for pay?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 21:42 |
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Where do you poop when doing a stakeout?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 21:42 |
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King of Bees posted:Where do you poop when doing a stakeout? same place i usually poop .. into my center console
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 21:43 |
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King of Bees posted:Where do you poop when doing a stakeout? Is it a 7/11 coffee cup?I know it's a 7/11 coffee cup.
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 21:43 |
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thathonkey posted:same place i usually poop .. into my center console I wasnt asking you, duh
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 21:44 |
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VendaGoat posted:Give me your best, "A dame walks in", monologue. She walked through my door like a used-car salesman homing in on a mark — a high school maths teacher from Tuscon trading sideways from some beat up jalopy to another, trying to convince himself that a different ride might give him a new lease at life, maybe rekindle some of the sparks he used to see in his wife's eyes before they had the children and grew cold and apart, indifferent to one another as they went through the daily motions. His jacket, worn at the elbows from too much teaching, his shabby chinos buffed and shiny with age, his scuffed shoes, the patchy, grey mustache and musty toupee all speaks of a desperate man, a crumpled and lonely victim of the modern world, living paycheck to paycheck and staring over the grim precipice of redundancy, teetering on the very edge of relevance. One more push from that principal - a younger man, still with a full head of hair, earning twice what the faded old maths teacher's bringing home, living high on the hog and not giving a drat about the little guy, a guy no longer on the up-and-up or even stalled in the slow lane of middle age but somewhere near the beginning of the downward slide into yhe black night of senility - and he'd be gone, another nobody disappearing into the void of nowhere, with no one to miss him or even mark his passage. The saleman has his number and moves in for the kill, his mouth full of glittering teeth like a leopard shark, ready to take this guy for all he's worth - not much, perhaps, but in this topsy-turvey world it's kill or be killed and you take what you can get. Nothing personal, but sometimes you've got a yard full of dinged-up 1980 Crestas you've got to shift. No, this guy will pay sticker price on the 1979 Datsun 310 with moderate rust. The Datsun 310, a creditable successor to the Cherry F-II line of motor vehicles and known overseas variously as the Nissan Pulsar and the Nissan Cherry, was a hard sell thanks to its lack of an automatic shifter, its small size and its cost compared to the more popular 210. Still, he sizes the guy up just like this dame was eyeballing me, he'll take the car, I'd take the case. And just like this salesman, she was bad to the bone, overselling on servicing and options, charging extra for rustproofing, chucking a few bucks onto the bill for kicking the tires before shoving the unpopular vehicle out of the lot and into some poor sap's life. That maths teacher would thank the salesman for the grift, just like I thanked the broad for coming to me with her tale. She was tall, like the Toyota Cresta in relation to the Datsun 310, with legs that stretched as long as the mileage on that beat-up old rustbucket. You could tell she'd been round the block once or twice even if she dolled herself up to turn back the clock much like the salesman using his drill on the Datsun 310's odometer to make it look as though it had traversed fewer miles than it had in fact traversed. But her dress, plunging at the neckline like the resale value of that Datsun as it putters off that sunblasted lot in Tuscon made it all worthwhile, her cleavage as deep as the crack the old teacher failed to spot in the Datsun's rocker cover before signing the papers. He must have known deep down that car'd be trouble, and I should've listened to that same voice, growling deep in the back pf my mind, telling me to show this tramp to the door. But it was too late - she was sauntering over to me like that Datsun 310 snaking its way through the Patagonia - Sonoita Scenic Road, smoke curling from her lips like the oil burning away on that cracked engine, and she had me. She sat down across from me, leaned over the desk and began spinning her story - a web of lies and deceit, but I was on the hook like that maths teacher for that loan on a broken down old Datsun 310.
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 22:26 |
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Do you have a web of informants throughout the city who put themselves at considerable risk to keep you informed of evildoers' plots? Have you considered betraying them?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 22:27 |
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Saint Isaias Boner posted:She walked through my door like a used-car salesman homing in on a mark — a high school maths teacher from Tuscon trading sideways from some beat up jalopy to another, trying to convince himself that a different ride might give him a new lease at life, maybe rekindle some of the sparks he used to see in his wife's eyes before they had the children and grew cold and apart, indifferent to one another as they went through the daily motions. His jacket, worn at the elbows from too much teaching, his shabby chinos buffed and shiny with age, his scuffed shoes, the patchy, grey mustache and musty toupee all speaks of a desperate man, a crumpled and lonely victim of the modern world, living paycheck to paycheck and staring over the grim precipice of redundancy, teetering on the very edge of relevance. One more push from that principal - a younger man, still with a full head of hair, earning twice what the faded old maths teacher's bringing home, living high on the hog and not giving a drat about the little guy, a guy no longer on the up-and-up or even stalled in the slow lane of middle age but somewhere near the beginning of the downward slide into yhe black night of senility - and he'd be gone, another nobody disappearing into the void of nowhere, with no one to miss him or even mark his passage. The saleman has his number and moves in for the kill, his mouth full of glittering teeth like a leopard shark, ready to take this guy for all he's worth - not much, perhaps, but in this topsy-turvey world it's kill or be killed and you take what you can get. Nothing personal, but sometimes you've got a yard full of dinged-up 1980 Crestas you've got to shift. No, this guy will pay sticker price on the 1979 Datsun 310 with moderate rust. The Datsun 310, a creditable successor to the Cherry F-II line of motor vehicles and known overseas variously as the Nissan Pulsar and the Nissan Cherry, was a hard sell thanks to its lack of an automatic shifter, its small size and its cost compared to the more popular 210. Still, he sizes the guy up just like this dame was eyeballing me, he'll take the car, I'd take the case. And just like this salesman, she was bad to the bone, overselling on servicing and options, charging extra for rustproofing, chucking a few bucks onto the bill for kicking the tires before shoving the unpopular vehicle out of the lot and into some poor sap's life. That maths teacher would thank the salesman for the grift, just like I thanked the broad for coming to me with her tale. She was tall, like the Toyota Cresta in relation to the Datsun 310, with legs that stretched as long as the mileage on that beat-up old rustbucket. You could tell she'd been round the block once or twice even if she dolled herself up to turn back the clock much like the salesman using his drill on the Datsun 310's odometer to make it look as though it had traversed fewer miles than it had in fact traversed. But her dress, plunging at the neckline like the resale value of that Datsun as it putters off that sunblasted lot in Tuscon made it all worthwhile, her cleavage as deep as the crack the old teacher failed to spot in the Datsun's rocker cover before signing the papers. He must have known deep down that car'd be trouble, and I should've listened to that same voice, growling deep in the back pf my mind, telling me to show this tramp to the door. But it was too late - she was sauntering over to me like that Datsun 310 snaking its way through the Patagonia - Sonoita Scenic Road, smoke curling from her lips like the oil burning away on that cracked engine, and she had me. She sat down across from me, leaned over the desk and began spinning her story - a web of lies and deceit, but I was on the hook like that maths teacher for that loan on a broken down old Datsun 310. Not bad. I'd vote less, but it wouldn't be my style.
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 22:30 |
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Colonel Cancer posted:Are you a smooth operator? As a private dick, do you ever go gay for pay? i'm as smooth as the bathtub whisky in my hipflask. i'm an undercover detective so i have to clear my sidelines with the police department. luckily they're ok with professional sodomy
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 22:31 |
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King of Bees posted:Where do you poop when doing a stakeout? doing a stakeout is what PIs call taking a dump so usually a construction site Mojo Threepwood posted:Do you have a web of informants throughout the city who put themselves at considerable risk to keep you informed of evildoers' plots? Have you considered betraying them? no, i keep rolling over on them for cash
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 22:33 |
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Describe your dream vehicle for stakeouts
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 22:34 |
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# ? Apr 28, 2024 22:03 |
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How many thrilling government conspiracies solved by finding the one thread of evidence with a dramatic reveal have you been involved in bub?
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# ? Aug 21, 2016 22:38 |