Book IV
The Chase

Twenty-two months, twenty-two days, twenty-two hours and twenty-two minutes after the mighty Puff Leg left Olivia, sailing the exalted Spanish galleon down the Great Drainage Ditch, Norman was out sitting with his twenty-second wife, Toshiba, behind his plush Olivian estate, when the police showed up on his doorstep. See now, that first sentence wasn't nearly so long, I mean, last book l I rambled on and on and on and on, oh, sorry, I'm doing it again, well as I was saying, the cops showed up at Norman's place. They knocked on his door and Norman's third wife, Debbie, answered.

"Yes, may I help you?" the husky woman asked the two uniformed police officers.

"We are here to see Norman," the first cop said.

"Oh, I'll get him. He's in back with Doreen and Darla," Debbie said as she motioned the police officers into the house. The cops followed her through the living room, and out the patio door. There Norman was sitting between two blondes.

"Norman, could we speak to you alone?" asked one officer "it's very important."

"Sure, Darla, Doreen, would you please leave us?" both women left with Debbie "now gentlemen, what can I do for you?"

"Your ex-wife, M. O. Brown Simpson Bates was murdered last night, along with her new boyfriend, Donny Goldenboy. Their heads were severed by, what looks like a plastic spoon. Just like the spoons that you use... We also found a blue smock that was blood stained, like the blue smocks that you like to wear."

"What are you trying to say?" asked Norman.

"Norman, we... um...," the police officer shuffeled his feet as he studdied them closely "oh smell! You're under arrest for the death of M. O. Brown Simpson Bates," the police officer stated "if you'd like to turn yourself in, we'll be willing to wait for you at the county court house."

"Um, sure, yeah," said Norman sheepishly "see you later."

"Sure Norman, try not to take too long," said the strangely silent second officer as he spoke for the first time while walking out the door.

"What the smell was the fuzz doing here Norm?" asked Al Ballins as he walked into Norman's house, and headed for he refrigerator.

"They think that I killed Mo," said Norman as Al spewed forth milk that he was drinking straight from the carton "Lets go for a ride. We'll take my white bronco, you can drive"

"Sure Norm, let's fly."

As Norman turned to leave, a heavey set, middle aged, bearded man aproached, "Master Bates, would you like anything before you leave?" inquired the butler, Mr. French.

"No thanks, Frenchie," Norman said as he strode past the butler "I'll get drive through."

"Very good, Master Bates, have a pleasant ride," said Mr. French as he backed away.

Norman and Al headed toward the garage. Norman opened the garage door and headed toward the white bronco that was next to his wives' mustangs. Al jumped on the bronco and grabbed its reigns. Norman climbed into the saddle behind Al.



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"This is BNN. The Bob News Network."

"We interrupt the wide world of Bob Sports to bring you this special Announcement. Earlier today, Norman was accused of killing his twenty-third wife, and his first ex-wife, M. O. Brown Simpson Bates," droned the androgynous man-woman type thing "as you all will no doubt remember, but I will tell you any ways, M. O. Brown Simpson Bates was a star running back for the Nudeston Oilers. She had only five seasons before a carrier ending groin injury ended it all, but in that time she was able two lead the Oilers to six stuper bowls."

"Earlier today, police occifers informed Normal that he was under arrest," said an androgynous woman-man type thing "the police allowed him to turn himself in, but Normal has disappeared. He was last seen with long time friend, and former jockey, Al Ballins. We'll keep you updated as things turn up, whether you want it or not. Now back to underwater basket weaving, on the Wide World of Bob Sports."



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"This is BNN. The Bob News Network."

We Interrupt the B.O.B. Files for this Norman Update," said the androgynous man-woman type thing "Norman's white Bronco was spotted heading south on main street a few moments ago, it is reported that Norman is on the back with, we believe, his long time friend, Al Ballins, driving the bronco."

"The police are following behind the slow moving bronco as it crawls through the streets of Olivia. The police are trying to keep their distance because it is reported," droned the androgynous woman-man type thing "that Norman has a loaded sling pointed at his head."

"Norman's bronco just turned completely around and drove through the police escorts," the androgynous man-woman-sheep-donkey-gerbil type thing rambled on "and headed back down ninth street. The police scattered into lawns and people's homes, having coffee and doughnuts while they were there. By the time that the police finished their afternoon snack, and did the dishes, Norman had disappeared. We now return you to the show already started, Bobmer Pyle, B.O.B.M.C. Sorry about the B.O.B. Files, but as they all turn out, the freak dies, and agent Fox Bobder is still left in the dark. I mean, come on, if he ever does find the truth the show will be over, need I say more?"



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"See Norman, told you that'd get them off our asses. Never knew a cop that could resist doughnuts!" yelled Al to Norman on the back of the bronco.

"Um, yeah, cool," replied Norman "could you please let me off here at the park, I'll walk from here."

"Yeah, sure buddy, no problem," Al said as he pulled the bronco over to the side of the road and let Norman off at Nester park. "Catch you later, Norm," Al called as he took off down the street.

"Yeah, later," mumbled Norman as he walked to a bench and sat down next to a man dressed in a white suit with a suitcase and a flat box with a ribbon tied around it.

"Hi, my name is Horace Rump, people call me Horace Rump," said a white suited man in a slow southern drawl.

Norman looked over and scowled at the man, "Were you in that movie, that, oh what was that name, that rocket one, or... or that fish one?"

"No," thought Horace "that was not me. Would you like a chaulk-o-late," when Norman shook his head Horace continued "I could eat about twenty-two of these. It's like my mama used to say, 'life is like a box of chaulk-o-lates, you open it up and I gotta pee, but never pee in comfortable shews, cause that they get all squishy and smell like me when I kissed the light socket in my underwear and you never want that, cause it's like Cap'n Dan used to say, YOU SHOULD HAVE LET ME DIE IN NAM, YOU BIG DUMB SOUTHERN RETARD, then somebody bit me in the buttocks and I slapped him, cause ya know this is starting to become a really long sentence talking about chaulk-o-lates and peeing in comfortable shews and Cap'n Dan biting my buttocks, you know, the best thing about getting bit in the buttocks was the mayonnaise and me kissing the light socket while peeing in my comfortable chaulk-o-lates and kissing Cap'n Dan's socket on his buttocks while he wore his box of comfortable chaulk-o-lates on his feet to keep from peeing in a light socket..."

"Shut up you sweetly retarded catch phrase spewing moron!" Norman yelled at Horace.

"And that's all I have to say about that," Drawled Horace gump "would you like some comfortable shews, I brought them for Betty. She let me touch her thingies once. They felt like comfortable shews, except they were on my hands instead of my feet, but then I suppose you could put shews on your hands and walk on your hands but would they then be your feet cause then they would be on the ground?"

"Are you stupid or something?" asked Norman.

"Its like my mama used to say, 'you is really stupid, ain't you boy, get out of my sight, and go play in traffic.' That's all I got to say about that."

"Thank Bob for small favors," Norman said as he looked around and got up "later Buckwheat," he said as he headed toward home.

"No, my name is Horace Rump, people call me Horace Rump, would you like a chaulk-o-late, I could eat about..." soon Norman was out of earshot and he breathed a sigh of relief.



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