Welcome to the serialized story of Mr. Harmless Bullet! A new chapter will be published every Wednesday (FREE to read). For audio - scroll down.
Genre: satire, absurdist comedy, adult humor (16+)
Written with the Tristan Tzara method - read about it here
Complete story, chapter by chapter:
Angela Marrant
CHAPTER 5. THE INVESTIGATION.
I wanted to bang my head against the door, then growl till I was blue in the face, as I often did in my grandma’s house. I remember she told the neighbors it was a healthy sign for a growing wee boy…
Our neighbors prophesied a great criminal future for me—the death on the desolate Fleur Moor or in a Mind Disorder York prison. They were too nosy, too provocative, too worried. Thanks to my grandma, a strong lady with a considerable deficit of patience, they were gone from our daily topics, as well as our lives.
I stared at the empty chair and fidgeted with my grey suit, feeling nervous about the meeting with my first suspect. All of a sudden, I heard an intoxicating sigh in the corner of the room. I went over to see what it was, but then the door opened and a gloomy man with sad eyes and a puzzled expression stepped inside. I took in the twilight of his poisonous, claustrophobic aura.
“What am I doing on the list, Bullet? Why am I a villain?” Mr. Killing asked.
“I have to admit, I defined my suspects very broadly. Mostly by oversized genitals and with the help of other criminological methods.” I replied.
I felt powerful.
“Riiight. I was so surprised to see that you chose to leave your position at the museum... Let’s say from yesterday? I never imagined you were dreaming of a career in criminal justice," Mr. Killing said.
His tranquil response caught my attention. Then Mr. Killing shoved a paper under my nose, demanding a signature. I was shocked—nothing would ever be the same again: buses, books, Sudoku puzzles, dreams of Sobekneferu, infinity drawings—all of that would be lost. Forever.
I fell to my knees, inhaling the dust from Mr. Killing’s shoes. I was ready to beg that narcissistic monster for forgiveness, but then I caught sight of a flame, a silhouette full of glitter, the woman with a perfect waist—an image of passion in motion. I quickly signed the paper and pushed him out of the room.
I turned. She was still there. Her eyes were on the verge of bursting into tears, but that didn’t stop me from getting steel-hard in about five seconds.
“Who are you, my angel?” I asked.
“Miss Amblycorypha Oblongifolia.”
I wondered what kind of crime I was investigating if a victim stood right in front of me.
“Are there any other details I need to know, my sweet lady?” I smiled.
“Maybe… I am the daughter of King Hamilton, the ruler of the beautiful land, Gunung Kinabalu.”
“Where is it?”
“Not so far away. In Sabah.”
I nodded, satisfied. The princess told me that her mother had passed away when she was fairly young. She met Mr. Domination two years ago at a party in Luanda, Angola. They hit it off and decided to spend their lives together. Then she saw his picture online, in some digital newspaper—Mr. Domination was married and had five kids. Ah, it was a scandalous affair! In the end, her proud father kicked Mr. Domination out of their joyful homeland. When I asked how she ended up in Rsa-town, the young woman wept and said a vicious Mr. Vegas had kidnapped her.
"I can help you," I said with a friendly grin, picturing myself as a prosperous monarch, the first in the Harmless generation to become a real KING.
"Great... I think you'd make a great husband." Miss Royalty arched her curves, and I got a glimpse of a private doorway: thankfully, her hips were up to the right angle to push my excited stem into her deep pearl.
"I'm all set!" I whispered.
The knock on the door—and the mirage was gone.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Arcadio Hardstone sitting in the chair in the middle of the room. That dramatic scene had made me a bit suspicious because Arcadio looked like a man who could easily slit your parents' throats.
“I hate it when people try to interrupt my afternoons, photoshoots, and erections,” explained Mr. Hardstone. “First of all - I'm a pathologist. Second - I own The Inner Circle Bank. I don’t need any diamonds or rare katydids, Hammer, or whoever you are. In fact, that katydid had a rheumatic heart for years!”
“Continue…” I said.
"If you were a great detective..." he replied, raising his voice, "then you'd know it was the boy. He's the killer! Take a look at a rock twenty meters down the entrance where a red-spotted toad sat this morning. You'll see what I mean..."
I was ready to apologize when the door opened, and the strangest creature entered the room—a long-haired armadillo.
“My best pal. Gorgeous, isn’t she?” Arcadio patted the beast.
“Furiously sexy. What’s her name?” I asked, stuttering.
“Madame Jack.”
“I thought it was a female.”
“It is.”
“Kinky name. I like it,” I lied.
“Be careful with your compliments. Jack can sense when a man looks at a woman with lust and when he has already committed adultery with her in his heart,” Arcadio said with a laugh.
“Tell her I’m not one of those.”
"Anyone can be one of those, especially in our city.”
The armadillo bit my finger, showing a sign of distrust.
“Please forgive me if I said something offensive, Madame Jack. My English could use some improvement.” I swallowed my last words.
Being there, in a room full of dirty secrets and dangerous reptiles, completely blocked my mind. I shut my eyes. Once again.
And then I heard her...
“You’re so cold, my dear,” said Miss Amblycorypha Oblongifolia.
“On the contrary,” I replied.
I felt absorbed by her presence. Before I could continue the endless conversation about our future, the room brightened up and became loud. The annoying boy—the son of Mrs. Vegas—was here.
“No, no, no… Go away! You've caused enough damage as it is. Forget about the murder and the shattered peace of my mind... I'm too busy now!" I shouted.
"Okay, but I just wanted to ask—what if it was an accident, Mister Detective? I had no idea that the pink katydid was actually diamond-encrusted," the boy said.
"The best thing you can do is confess, boy. That’s all…"
We regarded each other in sudden silence. He made a childish pffff noise, somewhere between surprise and a laugh.
“Noooo. No way. You’re too dumb to prove it was me,” the boy laughed.
“Am I? Okay… Remember, you asked for it, little shit!!”
Full of rage, I left the room.
to be continued…
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