Evil Editor's Blog, page 453

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Guess the Plot

Holy, Texas

1. When the great town of Holly, Texas is renamed Holy, Texas after a sign painting accident Bow Bradshaw returns to set things right for her great-grandmother Holly for whom the town was named after she single-handedly choked three attacking Apaches to death with one strand of Christmas ribbon and a baby on her hip in the 1880s.

2. Some said it was time to go when the waters ran dry in Holy, Texas, but ten year old Tim Dawson knows his friend the old medicine man on the

Cartoon 377

Caption: Anon.

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Writing Exercise Results . . .

. . . are in the posts below. The task was to write a scene in which you, a hard-boiled private eye, are hired by a new client, who is either a vampire or Evil Editor.[image error]

Detective Story 8

The dame at the door was doing a pretty fair Elvira impersonation, right down to those veal-white milk cartons squirming around in a peek-a-boo number illegal in twenty-nine states.

"I'm looking for a man."

"Most skirts are. Got something special in mind for this one?"

"Evisceration, preferably."

"Boyfriend troubles?"

She slid me the kind of look usually reserved for children and idiots. I should have been annoyed, but the Mesmer thing she had going with those Bette Davis eyes hit me like a princess

Detective Story 7

You want me to find....who? I asked him. Looking at this clown, standin' just inside a my door with this crazy blue jacket on and this crazed look in his eyes and this pair a muttonshops that made my own 70's creepers look like pansy prickles in comparison, I mean, man, he was wack lookin'. I had to ask again, to make sure a what he was wantin', see. Because...well, you listen, and you'll see. "I want you to find this woman. I don't know her last name. Not her real one. I don't know all that

Detective Story 6

His limousine circled my building like the flock of ravens circling overhead, circling, waiting. I postulated breadcrumbs might assist his circumvolution but did nothing. The figure of Claudius Cassius Longinus, bloodsucker extraordinaire darkened my portico at moonrise.

"You advertised that you can find anyone, even the dead." His voice smoothed the raw winter air.

"For a price," I added. Some jamokes forget I don't do pro-bono.

"Rest in peace, you will be adequately compensated. I seek the locati

Detective Story 5

I was sitting at my desk dreaming about some dame and downing my morning java like an alkie swigging his hooch when this gink walks in. He was devastatingly handsome, with hypnotic eyes, but the aura of pure depravity surrounding him told me he was a bloodsucking monster. He smiled, and my eyes were drawn to his most prominent feature, two over-sized, glistening muttonchops.

"The name's Evil Editor," he announced, "and I need you to help me get rid of something."

"Stolen crate? Some hop? Hot ice?

Detective Story 4

The name's Minion, Faceless Minion. I'm a P. I. and odd-job man. They used to say I could've been an evil minion if there hadn't been that accident at the cloning facility.

After the fire, no one says that no more.

It was a dark and … ahem. Rain streaked the window like Tammy Faye's tears the night he walked in. I could tell he was a class act, a full course of trouble with a side order of heartbreak. Roaches scuttled out of the way when he crossed the room.

The dingy light said too little: the sve

Detective Story 3

Potential client or no, the guy who burst into my office irked me and I wanted to boot his ass into next week. I had seen those infamous muttonchops before, however, so I swallowed my pride and gave him my best steely-eyed look.

“Have a seat,” I said, gesturing to the chair across from my desk.

“Don’t tell me what to do!” he snarled. “I’ll have a seat when I’m godddam ready to sit!”

He was wound tighter than a cheap watch and kept looking nervously over his shoulder. That meant only one thing – tro

Detective Story 2

I was rearranging my empty hooch bottles when a car stopped outside my office. Money. Better count your wheels, lady. Wait, she's coming in here? A customer? Geez, never crossed my mind. Oh god, that's the tackiest broad I ever seen. Catholic schoolgirl uniform waist down and boy scout uniform waist up. Like the army helmet, though.

"Yes, ma'am?...sir?...ma'am? What can I do you for?"

"I have issues."

"Coulda fooled me."

"One of them is serial killing."

It's a he. The chin. Whoa, look at them chopper