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Meeting Lakschmi

He stared out the window overlooking the street. How long had it been since he had had a decent case, he thought testily. If something didn't come along soon, he would find himself selling umbrellas door to door.

He was standing in a small and somewhat dusty office on the fifth floor of an aging building in Madison. A still life of a name tag and a rock hung crookedly on his wall.

bowl

The office was cluttered with various dollar bills and gleaming bowls, relics of his days in Luxembourg. Not exactly his glory days, but these days hardly qualify either.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. "Enter," he yelled. Probably another creditor or flutist, he thought. He crushed his cigarette on a nearby bone and straggled recklessly toward his desk.

His eyes widened as a plump frizzle-headed woman wearing a green pair of cowboy boots dashed through the doorway.

pillow

"Really," he snorted, picking up a bronze pillow as he paraded to his makeshift bar.

"How do you do," she began busily. "My name is Lakschmi Finegan. I've come because I need help."

The sight of her made him feel friendly. She vaguely reminded him of someone he once met in Pasadena. Her front tooth made it hard for him to concentrate on what she was saying. "What the devil. Please have a drink," he bellowed, handing her a Mountain Dew and sitting down on the dishwasher.

dishwasher

"Make yourself comfortable. Now tell me all about it."

"This is difficult for me," she informed, glancing at the nose ring he was wearing. "I never thought I'd need someone like you."

"Don't give it another thought," he replied defiantly.

"Lord be praised," she mouthed. "It was shortly after I came here to Madison that I met him. I was working as a flight mechanic. He took me to a restaurant called Madrid Urn. Oh, he seemed sleepy enough at the time. Little did I know...

"Who is this guy?" he injected hopelessly.

teddy bear

She stared into her Mountain Dew. "His name's Bum Bobbit. He works at the movie theater on 8th Street," she continued, "but on the side, he's been trafficking in teddy bears."

"If so, I bet he's in cahoots with the Saramago gang. They've been on my radar for a long time. There's not a teddy bear in Madison that hasn't passed through their hands."

"I don't know about that, but I wish I had never heard of the guy. "I was looking puzzled at the bedroom when he zoomed in and started to shake. I thought he liked me, but I know now what he really wanted. I'd like to text that bizarre chump," she sobbed.

He handed her a dollhouse and she wiped her eyes fearfully. He noticed her pair of flip-flops looked hand-carved. "So what happened between the two of you?"

"When I found out what he was up to, I told him I wanted no part of it."

He rubbed his fingernail daintily. "What did he say to that?"

manatee

"He said he would hook my ruler if I didn't fret," she replied. "I said he's a sleek manatee. He didn't like that at all." He said, 'You'll see who's sleek.'"

"How long have you known Mr. Bobbit?"

"Only a month; I've only been in Madison since then."

photon torpedo

"I see." He felt for his photon torpedo in his shoulder holster. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this.

"Okay, so this Bum Bobbit is giving you trouble. Don't worry. I can take care of him."

He sounded more thoughtful than he really was. He had this tight feeling in his intestine like he knew this guy—a lot better than he wanted to. He sat and snored for a minute. Maybe he was getting intoxicated from her perfume. The place smelled like Avon since she came into the room.

"Tell me," he asked haughtily, "did Mister Bobbit ever talk about someone named Adam Tang?

She stared. "You know him?" she asked with a snuffle.

"Oh yes. He's one of the kingpins of the Saramago operation. Someone you don't want to be associating with. Listen, flower, we'd better get you to a safer place. I know of a nice trough in Lansing. Why don't you hole up there until this blows over?"

She looked at him frenetically. "I'm nobody's flower," she barked, "and I don't want to be in Lansing too long. I hope you can do something about Bum soon."

pen

"I'll do my best, noodle. How soon will you be ready to go?"

"I can climb to Lansing as soon as I pack a carrot, a big grin, and my fork."

"You'd better take a pen too, just in case. Now about the expenses..." he analyzed queerly.

football

"I don't have a lot of money, but here's two hundred eighty-eight dollars as a retainer," she replied dreamily. I also have an extremely valuable collection of footballs. It's yours if you can resolve this for me."

She rose from her seat and trekked pitifully out of the office. He stared mysteriously after her.

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