It’s three o’clock in the morning. I put down my bottle of Jack Daniel’s and remove the half burnt cigarette from my mouth. I have spent many lonely nights like this, waiting for something to happen. I am reading the newspaper when there is a knock on the door. A broad walks in, wearing a fiery red dress. “Can I help you, Ma’am?” I inquired with the eagerness of a homeless man in line at a soup kitchen. “ Well, Mister, I got a problem.” “Don’t we all? How ’bout you tell me how I can help.” “Well it started three days ago. I was at the salon when I received a distressing phone call from my dearest brother. He told me he was being kidnapped. And now I don’t have the slightest clue as to where he is. Can you help me?” The dame threw herself on my masculine shoulders. “Sure I’ll take the case. I can’t say no to a face like that.” The broad got up from her seat. And so I began on my investigation. I had few leads. I was able to find her bother’s apartment with the information she had given to me over the phone. I slowly walked up the stairs and made my way to room 203. The door was ajar. After what I found inside, I wish it had been locked shut. Inside I found a 47-year-old dwarf who was naked, tripping on acid, and listening to Christina Aguilera’s “Genie in a Bottle.” I felt repulsed to the point of rejecting my religion and spending the rest of my life as a monk near the cleansing waters of Lake Minnetonka. “Room 203 is next door,” said the awkward little fella. “Thanks, Dad.” I opened the door to the real room 203. The room was barren except a small white business card on the floor. It read “Justin Wu Construction Company” I looked at the card again and grinded my teeth. Wu was a notorious con artist, who had once been my partner on the force. Of course that was before the incident with my wife. “DAMN YOU WU, DAAAMMMNNN YOOUUU!” (insert spinning vertical camera angle with lightning and rainfall). There was no way I would let that dastardly villain kidnapped another eight-year-old boy. I would need backup, so I headed down to the station. As I opened door, I was greeted by a familiar face. It was Danny McFatman. “Top of the morning to ya, Billy.” I removed the half puffed cigarette from my mouth as he finished. “We got a problem. Wu’s back again.” Danny’s coffee cup dropped and smashed against the floor. “I’ll be five minutes.” “Hey Dan,” I said as I lightly clasped his shoulder. “ If you have anything you want to tell your kids, I’d do it now.” We left the station and drove to Chinatown, where Wu’s infamous company was stationed. The town was quiet, too quiet. Finally we pulled up to the large, black building with the word “WU” etched in giant gold letters on the center of the building. We shifted through the crowd, looking for the young boy. The children pawed and scratched at us, only because of the AXE effect. We located him and freed him from his shackles. As we were about to make our escape, Danny got strange look in his eye. “Bill, I just can’t let this happen anymore, I have to end this tonight.” He opened his jacket to reveal 10 lbs of TNT. “Ok, Dan, you’re a supporting character and frankly the only reason you’re here is to get shot or something, so go for it.” I left just as the explosion rocked the foundation of the building. Wu’s empire of child labor was crumbling, and I recieved 200 experience points and three gold coins for my effort.
