It was a brisk, Saturday evening (just the other day, in fact), when it happened- I had been robonapped! With my status as one of the single greatest private detectives in Limbersdale (the only private detective, but still), I knew I would be taken captive eventually, and I had always assumed it would be the Swedish Mafia who would capture me first, but I didn’t quite expect my first robonapping to go quite like how it happened. Still, I’m not exactly complaining.
Allow me to elaborate.
For the past several weeks I had been investigating some strange goings-on around town. A series of break-ins, all seeming random to the naked optic; but upon closer inspection, it turns out that these crimes were not in fact random, as a local crime family had been staging hits all across Limbersdale.
Being the only one to currently know of their conspiracy, I guessed that it was likely that I would be a target to them. But, as is the life of a Private Detective. I took as many precautions as possible, but they found me regardless.
As I was walking home last night, I tried to keep as low a profile as possible. It was the dead of night, and the wind bristled by coldly. Dead leaves rustled past, blowing this way and that. Sadly, all my precautions couldn’t save me.
Two men came up from behind and grabbed me. I tried to fight them off, but they took a taser, shocking my circuits and rendering me offline. As I lost consciousness, I remember them dragging me off into the night, with both parties thinking my lucky streak had finally run out.
When I came online, I found myself strapped to a chair, and face-to-faceplate with an overweight, middle-aged man in far too much golden jewelry for my liking.
“So,” he said. “You’re the guy who’s been messin’ up all our plans.”
“And I’m assuming you’re the guy who’s plans I’ve been messing up?” I asked, still struggling with the bonds to my chair.
“I am.” The don glared at me distastefully. “You’ve made us look like fools, y’know that? We gots a reputation. You’re ruinin’ it. And we can’t have that,” he leaned forward in his seat, getting closer to me. “Can we?”
“Well, I also have a reputation,” I added. “And I can’t exactly go and… I’m sorry, it’s impossible for me to continue to make coherent sentences when you’re this close to me. Your neckbeard looks awful and it’s quite distracting.”
The don recoiled slightly.
“What?” He asked. He glanced around at some of his men, who happened to be standing near us. “My beard ain’t that bad, is it?” The guards shifted their weight, exchanging nervous glances.
“Well? Is it?” The don demanded, looking between them all.
“Well, uhh… it’s- it’s pretty bad.” One guard hesitantly said.
“You shut yer trap!” The don snapped. He reeled on me. “And you shut yers!”
“Ah, I would love to, but I’m afraid that in order to do that my mouth would need to be welded.” I explained. “I don’t think you have a welder around, but you’re welcome to try.”
The don frowned, and folded his arms as he leaned back in his seat. He continued to glare at me, now with a little more hatred in his eyes.
“Okay kid. Yah don’t seem t’know how this works here, so lemme tell yah how this works.”
“Oh, please. Do inform me.”
The boss’s eyes narrowed. He seemed to be restraining himself.
“I’m gonna tell yah how this works,” the don continued, his voice tighter. “An’ yer gonna listen. Is that clear?”
“Crystal.” I muttered. I decided that, while it certainly was fun, pissing off a mob boss might not be the best thing to do at the moment. I would continue, of course, I just needed to find the right moment.
“Good,” the don continued. “Now, yer gonna stop investigatin’ my operation, and yer gonna leave us alone. We’re gonna keep hitting the city, an’ you ain’t gonna do anythin’ to stop us. Otherwise…” he paused, as if for dramatic effect. “…well, I think yah catch my drift.” One of the guards in the back raised a wrench menacingly.
“Hm. Well, that does sound ominous and all, but I’m afraid that’s not going to work. See, while I’m quite the accomplished detective, you’ve been very sloppy. So much so that I’m sure even the most inexperienced of detectives could see through your little ruse and shut you down in an instant. I just happened to get to doing it first.”
“Wha- no, we were bein’ careful!” The don cried, recoiling slightly.
“You were being sloppy.” I repeated. “I’m not surprised, to be honest. After meeting you, I really don’t feel threatened in the slightest.”
“Threatened? We’re the most powerful crime family in all of Limbersadale!” The don sat up quickly, rising in anger.
“Well then you’ve got some cheap competition.” I scoffed. “I mean really, this is all quite pathetic. You’ve got me stuck in a shoddy warehouse, strapped to a shoddy chair with some shoddy rope tied to my hands, and a shoddy beard on your face, which again, is very distracting, and all because of how horrible it looks. Seriously, find a good barber, ya chowderhead. Add the empty threats to all that and really, it’s quite surprising that you are the single most powerful crime family in all of Limbersdale. Honestly, I would laugh if it weren’t so depressing. Not even a pity laugh would be enough.”
The don looked like he forgot how to speak. The rest of the guards stood around looking shell-shocked. It seemed I had made an impression on them. On a roll, I continued to talk.
“Look, buddy, this is how it’s gonna work. You’re gonna stop these break-ins, and you’re gonna turn yourselves in. And, you’re gonna let me go, because if you don’t there are plenty of other things about this I can insult, like your jewelry. Hint- it’s fake. Does that seem fair to you?”
Wordlessly, the don nodded. A guard came up and untied me, leading me to the door. Before I left, I stopped and turned back to the don.
“One last thing,” I said. “Maybe get a shave, before you turn yourself in? Just a friendly word of advice.” Without another word, I exited the building and headed back home. This time, nobody tried to robonap me.
This morning when I turned on the news, I couldn’t help but smile when I saw that the entire family had turned themselves in earlier in the night. And not only that, the don had shaved off that horrid beard! It wasn’t a great shave, but it was better than the alternative. Uhg. If I had nightmares, I’m sure that thing would haunt them.
With all that said and done, I suppose the message to be taken away from this is that not all battles are won through fighting, but some are won through words. Because really, what other weapon is quite as deadly as a good insult?
Case closed.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
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