*******************************JOHN DOE, P.I.********************************
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JOHN DOE, P.I. (NAME NEEDS IMPROVING.)
Copyright Jerod Underwood Park 1997
All rights reserved
CONCEPT: Nice, easy job of sitting behind my desk.
Working out a few tax forms before due date. "Just another
boring night off the job." I quietly think to myself.
"Nothing ever happens in this dump of an office. Except
mathematics," as I look down to see that line I needs to be
added to line M. Just then, the phone rings. Peculiar sound,
sense I believed the phone company cut my line off the other
month. So I pick up, only to hear somebody selling something
about a politician's whatever. So, I kindly say "No. But
thanks for call'n, pal." as I drop the receiver on the rotary
dial by mistake. And what a mistake it was. I mean the cloud of
dust that rose up from that thing. Whew. So I took it as a sign
to call it a night. So I got up out of my chair, took one last
look at the tax forms, thought to myself, "Well, just
something to look forward to tomorrow. Then, I grab my coat and
hat, and open the door to find a note slapped onto it on the
other side. So, out of curiosity, I pull it off the door and take
a gander. EVICTION NOTICE: For lack of rent payment. "Now,
Isn't that a surprise." I jokingly thought to myself as I
wadded up the paper and tossed it aside into the empty hallway.
Ah, what did it matter. The whole building was a dump-in-waiting.
Paint falling off the ceiling. Light fixtures hanging from
exposed wires. Police tape slung across a door down the hall. An
interesting story took place there. About a year ago. It's no
wonder I'm going out of business. After all, what self respecting
victim would come looking for hired help in a place like this?
Anyway, I mosey on down to the elevator and press the button. I
wait for the doors to open. And wait. And wait some more. Then I
catch on that the #!*thing must of broke down and come to realize
all the fun those six flights of stairs that I will have to
traverse just to get out of this rat motel of a building are
going to be. So I swagger towards the stairs door, wondering what
this is going to be like. When, to my surprise, the elevator bell
rings and out steps these gorgeous pair of legs, attached to a
dame of obvious wealth, and she asks me, "Excuse me, Sir. Can
you direct me to Mr. (Doe)'s office." Well, half shocked by
her beauty alone, I manage out the words, "Well, miss. Don't
bother going there. Cause you already found the man your look'n
for. What can I do for you." Immediately, the thought of IRS
came to mind. Though I didn't know why. Maybe it just made sense
at the time. But, as it turns out, she had a case and money was
no object. I accepted. Looks like tomorrow is actually going to
happen after all.
GAME SCENE FLOW:... (More to come.)
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Copyright Jerod Underwood Park 1997
All rights reserved