Friday , March 29 2024
Halloween fiction, with apologies to Raymond Chandler...

Sam And His Halloween Date

Sam’s the name, enjoying life is my game and that Halloween when I saw Sally I knew she had to be my next dame.

I was at Joe’s place sucking down some liquid of the alcoholic type when I first saw her at the pool table. She was playing with all the balls but none were going in the holes. She was a redhead. Man, I am a sucker for redheads!

I bought her a drink and offered to help her improve her game. I put my hands in hers as I showed her how to handle the pool cue. But she got mad! At me, of all people. Like I did something wrong.

“You think you’re hot stuff, do ya? Just because you can play pool,” she said.

Man, what a talker! Well, I let her know that I am indeed hot stuff and will accept any dare she challenged. She thought a minute at that and I could tell she was thinking because her eyes were less jumpy.

She took a drag on her cigarette and said, “I want you to go over Niagara Falls in a barrel. You do that and I will sleep with ya.”

Sure, baby, I can do that, I told her. I got in my Dodge, drove to the falls and found the place I was looking for: Barrels-R-Us.

A couple tourist-types gawked at me as I approached the falls holding the barrel.

“You ain’t really gonna do it, mister, are you?” a girl asked loudly.

Hmmm. Was I? I wasn’t sure. I started to think about how I could con her&#8212if I just ripped the barrel up a little and stepped into a shower I might pull this off.

I was just about to figure out how to do this con best when I saw her. She was pulling into a nearby parking lot, apparently curious about what stupidity she can inspire in man.

She was dressed all in black. What a kidder. Or was that just her Halloween costume? I thought the veil was a bit much, but who asked me?

So I did it. I jumped.

I won’t go into the details except to say that I am writing this from my hospital bed. She kept her end of the bargain, and has spent several hours with me in recent days.

Her lips taste almost as good as scotch.

And since I can’t have scotch in this place she will do just fine.

It’s like she says, “A relationship without sex these days is like a cup without a bottom.” And boy do I like her bottom.

(My Crime Noir attempt was originally printed at my blog.)
Edited: PC

About Scott Butki

Scott Butki was a newspaper reporter for more than 10 years before making a career change into education... then into special education. He has been working in mental health for the last ten years. He lives in Austin. He reads at least 50 books a year and has about 15 author interviews each year and, yes, unlike tv hosts he actually reads each one. He is an in-house media critic, a recovering Tetris addict and a proud uncle. He has written articles on practically all topics from zoos to apples and almost everything in between.

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