Knock Knock — Tweeted Mystery “The Golden Parachute” Continues!





Here are Week 87 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

“I will decide what to grab and when!” Rixey replies “SOMEONE is going to be held accountable for this malfeasance! Maybe it will be you.”

“Accountable? Malfeasance? Get over yourself! If you go in like that, we’ll block your access to my Uncle’s safe room. Right Arkaby?” “Um.”

“Arkaby?” In every case there comes a moment when you find yourself standing at the fulcrum of a decision point; a moment of hard choices.

“Arkaby?” Everything that happens from that point will be irrevocably determined in an instant. Your hopes, your dreams, your immortal soul.

“Arkaby!” On the one hand, the boss I detest is appropriately demanding access to the scene of the crime to bring a perpetrator to justice.

“ARKABY!” On the other hand, the woman I love is intent on protecting her father’s twin from consequences of his own worst inclinations.

“ARKABY!!” “No need to shout. Before anyone grabs anything or anybody, let’s find Farley’s safe room.” The Concierge says “Ah! Here we are.”

We stand before a large metal door with no handle or obvious opening mechanism. Rixey says “This is the safe room? How do you open it?”

The Concierge says “Only Farley can open this door from inside.” “There’s no way to open it from out here?” “No.” “No other entrance?” “No.”

“No tunnels underneath, airducts overhead or conduits on the side?” “All sealed.” “Can you call Granger and ask him to open up?” “No phone.”

Regi says “Arkaby, I didn’t see this door when we were here before.” “It must slide into the wall. It was open when your Uncle took us in.”

Rixey paces back and forth. “There must be some way short of explosives to open this door.” The Concierge says “Why don’t you try knocking?”

Rixey walks up to the door and pounds on it with his fist. No response. He says to one cop “Give me your club.” He knocks again. Nothing.

“We’ll have to blast it open.” The Concierge says “You can’t. It’s a blast-proof door.” “Blast proof? Who has a personal blast-proof door?”

“In this case Farley Granger. It cost us a fortune to install it. You couldn’t afford to blast it down.” “Sure I could.” “No, you couldn’t.”

I say “Listen to him. He bills at hospital rates.” Rixey and the police exchange glances. “We’re not leaving until you open this door.”

Regi says “We can’t have that.” She goes up and slides the blast door to her left. “That wasn’t so hard.” Another door appears behind it.

“Damn! This is the door I remember. Farley locked and bolted it when we left.” Rixey says “Can you open it?” “I can’t. It’s really locked.”

Regi jiggles the door handle which remains unyielding. “Should I knock again?” “Don’t bother.” Rixey turns to his cops. “Break it down.”

The cops look at each other. One says “Break it down?” “Yes.” “You want us to break down this door?” “YES!” “We didn’t bring any equipment.”

The other cop says “We can call the Demolition Squad. They have surplus Pentagon stuff they could bring.” “Just break it down yourselves!”

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)

Against the Wind — Tweeted Mystery “The Golden Parachute” Continues!

 

 

Here are Week 86 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

They discovered that most often people don’t wear perfume to embrace moral precepts. A scentsational bankruptcy left them holding the tank.

The thousands of gallons of perfume attracted millions of bees. Lavender Blue Dilly Dilly Headquarters became a hive of fruitless activity.

Bee activities may have been fruitless, but I got the point, repeatedly. The disoriented bees found my perfume-saturated body irresistible.

I eluded the LBDD bee swarm by the skin of my teeth, but with my facial features so distorted I was virtually incognito. It hurt like hell.

Then an irate motorist cleaned my clock when I parallel universe parked in his space. I woke at Body Parts R Us, prepped for facial surgery.

I refused surgery which my insurance considered elective and denied coverage. The Concierge still charged me for services not rendered.

Rixey says “Arkaby? Are you still with us?” “Yes. I was reliving my last experience with this character. Don’t let him near your wallet.”

The Concierge says “Do you have a warrant? If not you’ll have to leave.” “With a report of shots fired, we don’t need no stinking warrant.”

Regi says “Concierge, why are you running around the halls of Body Parts R Us in your shorts?” “Whose shorts should I be running around in?”

I say “No, you misunderstood her question. What she means is, whose halls should you be running around in?” “That’s not what I mean at all.”

Rixey pushes past us. “Take us to where Farley Granger has concealed himself…NOW!” “OK! OK! Keep your pants on while I get my pants on.”

Rixey says “Pants or no pants, move!” Raising his hands, the Concierge says “You sure you don’t want us to pull that stick from your ass?”

Rixey levels his gun at the Concierge. I step between. “Easy now! It’s not worth the cost of the bullet, which he’ll likely charge you for.”

Regi says “You work for this hothead?” “Work WITH is a better way to put it. He can go overboard when riled up.” Rixey holsters his weapon.

Through gritted teeth he says “Can we PLEASE proceed to Farley Granger’s safe room?” The Concierge says “Of course since you ask so nicely.”

Methodically stepping into a pair of pants, he zips up and says “All set.” The Concierge leads the way. Rixey and the cops bring up the rear.

Rixey says “A passion defending justice is not ‘going overboard’.” “I agree he is annoying, but I never felt the need to pull a gun on him.”

Regi says “Try to keep it in your pants in the future. It’s bad enough that my Uncle Farley is trigger happy without you cops joining in.”

Rixey says “You’re a fine one to talk about keeping it in your pants.” I say “She’s not referring to your penis.” “I know what she means.”

Regi squares off in front of Rixey. “Do you really?” “ARE you referring to my penis?” ” I’m referring to your trigger finger, not your dick.

“I assume you can tell them apart. In the upcoming pissing contest I don’t want you to grab the wrong thing and shoot Farley by accident.”

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)

Nose of the Beeholder — Tweeted Mystery “The Golden Parachute” Continues!





Here are Week 85 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

“Me? Tell me what needs to be fixed and I’ll fix it.” “You don’t get it. I deal with things at the 30,000 foot level. You just muck around.”

“Someone’s got to do it.” “Yes. Just not you.” I think Poe but say “You said I could watch you work. Let’s focus on the reason you’re here.”

Rixey pauses. “Ah yes. Where is the perp who shot at you but hit her?” Regi says “That ‘perp’ is my uncle. What will you do?” “Arrest him.”

“You can’t arrest Farley!” “You’d shield an uncle who shot you? Arkaby, where do you dig up girlfriends?” “She’s not my girlfriend.” “Hey!”

“I mean, she IS my girlfriend, but I didn’t dig her up. I dug up her father.” “Oh?” “I mean, someone else dug him up. That’s the mystery.”

“That’s what you say. I haven’t seen a body yet.” “It’s being autopsied as we speak.” “Fine. Now where do I find this Farley character?”

“Follow me.” Regi and I lead Rixey and his team into the hall just as the man in t-shirt and shorts jogs past. Rixey says “Who is that guy?”

I realize I know him. It’s the Concierge I met the first time I was hospitalized at Body Parts R Us. He billed me $40K for parts not taken.

He had wanted me to trade in my then current body for a brand new model just to make his monthly quota. When I demurred he billed me anyway.

Sweat clouding his brow, the Concierge stops on a dime and gives us a once-over. As he picks up the dime he says “Mr. Arkaby? Miss Granger?”

“Why are you here? Reconsidering corrective surgery? Why have these police come to Body Parts R Us? Are they looking to replace body parts?”

“This is my…I mean, this is YOUR lucky day! You are ALL in luck. We have special end of year deals on a wide range of surgical procedures!”

“We’re not here for clonesmetic surgery. We’re arresting your boss.” “What for?” “He tried to shoot me.” Regi says “And he shot me instead.”

“You’re arresting Dr. Dot?” “Not Dot. Farley Granger. Isn’t he your boss?” “Farley? He shoots at everyone. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

Rixey nods toward Regi and says. “It means something to the person he hits.” “Well, sure. It’s just that he never has hit anyone before.”

I say “One thing puzzles me.” “What?” “Why do you have year end specials in the middle of the summer?” “Our fiscal year ends in September.”

The Concierge says to Rixey. “You’re also police? Don’t you need some part of your anatomy enhanced?” I say “He’s referring to your penis.”

“Last time I was here cost a fortune and they did nothing.” Rixey smiles “You wanted to enlarge your penis?” Regi says “He didn’t need it.”

Everyone is silent, lost in thought. Then Regi says “After all the damage was to his face.” Everyone says “Ah!” “I was stung by bees.” I say

I don’t blame the bees. While investigating Willum Granger’s murder, I tumbled into a vat of Lavender Blue Dilly Dilly’s surplus perfume.

LBDD had attempted to market perfume to seniors. Their disastrous ‘Scents and Sensibility’ campaign linked smelling good to moral precepts.

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)

Fortwitten Love — Tweeted Mystery “The Golden Parachute” Continues!






 

Here are Week 84 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!


I remember how hard it was to pull my pants up with numb fingers. Before I recovered, Regi’s mother hustled her off, not to be seen again.


So here we are. Grasping my grey necktie, Regi pulls me towards her. We kiss and I ask “Did you just eat a petite madeleine?” “No. Why?”


“No reason. This is unfinished business?” “The start of it yes.” We kiss. Regi says “You taste like licorice and crème de menthe.” “Me too.”


I loosen my tie and shrug off my jacket. Regi says “Are you getting ready to fight with me?” “No. I intend to surrender unconditionally.”


Shifting out of her hospital scrubs, she pulls me on top. Again I taste the madeleine of her lips. I kiss her throat, and taste pomegranate.


I plant butterfly kisses on her breasts, tasting honey. I nibble an earlobe and taste earwax. Regi says “I have one question and a request.”


“What?” “You traveled all the way to the Caribbean to ‘rescue’ me. You risked your job and your life without a thought of a reward. Why?”


“I love you.” I brush my hand down her firm stomach. She says ‘Mmm. That’s nice! Lower.” I say “I love you” in a deeper voice. She laughs.


“That’s an old one.” She pushes me so we roll over and she’s on top. We kiss. “I think I love you too.” “Just think?” “I’ll let you know.”


She loosens my belt. We both breathe in gasps. “So you rescued me because you love me?” I manage to say “Mfumph.” “Then I have one request.”


“Is… is your request that I use protection?'” “No. Yes! No, it’s will you stop tweeting on that damn cellphone? Just for a while?” “Yes.”


I am awakened sometime later by rapping on the chamber door. Regi lies beside me. She says “Let me sleep Ma. I’ll look for a job tomorrow.”


“Tis some visitor” I mutter “tapping at my chamber door. Only this and nothing more.” “Open up!” says a familiar voice. I reply “Nevermore!”


Regi asks “Who is at tapping our chamber door?” “Tis the wind and nothing more!” Rixey and a police squad barge in. He says “Working hard?”


I brush back my raven hair and quote “Thing of evil! Bird or devil! What brings you here?” Rixey says “I came to catch you nearly napping.”


Nearly? What means this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore? Unfazed, Regi dons her scrubs and murmurs “What a bore!”


Pulling on her shoes, she looks Rixey over. “Dressed up like a million dollar trouper. Trying hard to look like Gary Cooper. Super Dooper.”


Rixey says “Is she putting me on?” “You’re the Rix. Why the hell are you here?” “YOU called me.” “Oh, right.” “You can watch me in action.”


Regi says “Who is this joker?” “Rixey, my Division chief.” “You report to him?” “Sometimes.” Rixey laughs. “Nevermore, if I can help it.”


I have never seen Rixey with a hair out of place. His suit is always perfectly pressed, his tie perfectly tied, his shoes perfectly shined.

 

Regi is right. He does look like a million dollar trooper! I know how to deal with the likes of him. “Rixey, what is your problem?” “You.”


(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)

Frozen Lust – Live-Tweeted Mystery “The Golden Parachute” Continues!




 

 

 

 

Here are Week 83 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!


I miss the days when I could hammer a landline phone handset on the desktop until I got a response. Pressing cell buttons isn’t the same.


I consider smashing my phone against the wall. Instead I say “Listen IVR. Patch me through now or I will hunt you down and disconnect you.”


After a pause the IVR says “To speak to the Desk Sergeant, press 1.” That’s more like it! I press 1. “OK. I’ll connect you. Please hold.”


At last! A familiar voice comes on the line. “Rixey speaking.” Rixey? Why him? Rixey has been my nemesis since I began with the Department.


Throughout my police career Rixey has never failed to undermine my activities and or belittle my performance. I never could figure out why.


My suspension from the force was the happiest day of his life. Why did the IVR connect me with him? “This is Arkaby.” “What do you want?”

“I want to report shots fired at a police officer.” “Which officer?” “Me. The shots were fired at me.” “Aren’t you off active duty?” “Yes.”


“You aren’t really reporting shots fired at a police officer.” “OK. Just shots fired.” “Who fired them?” “Farley Granger.” “Did he hit you?”


“No. He hit Regna Granger. His niece.” “Uh huh. Is she OK?” “Yes. We’re at the Body Parts R Us Hospital. Are you sending a car out or not?”

 

Silence. “Rixey?” “A minute while I visualize your girlfriend taking a bullet for you.” “Regi’s not actually my girlfriend.” “Uh huh.”

I hear muffled laughter. “Am I on speaker?” “Maybe.” “Do what you want. I’ll handle things here.” “Keep your pants on. We’ll be over ASAP.”


“Listen Rixey. You and I had our differences in the past. You think I’m an incompetent boob. I think you’re a self-righteous narcissist.”

“What’s your point?” “Something’s happening here. We need to put differences aside. Stop being an asshole for once and take me seriously.”

“I’ll take you seriously when you stop being an idiot.” “Let’s both stop on the count of three. 1, 2, 3.” A pause. “You’re still an idiot.”

I sigh. “And you’re still an asshole.” “Nice talking to you.” “Wait. There are real crimes here and I can’t make any arrests.” “Like what?”

“I’ve discovered an illicit Caribbean trade in cadavers.” “A what?” “A Caribbean medical school has been importing cadavers illegally.”

“That’s why Farley Granger shot at you?” “No. He shot at me because I wouldn’t give up my cellphone.” “Why did he want you to do that?”

“Because of the Singularity.” “The what?” “The inevitable emergence of human level machine intelligence.” “Arkaby, have you been drinking?”

“Not a drop. It’s very simple. Farley shot at me because I brought my active cellphone into his shielded safe room here at Body Parts R Us.”

“He believes that a self-aware computer is controlling us through our cellphones and the only solution is to go completely off the grid.”

“Why is that computer selling cadavers to a Caribbean medical school?” “That’s a separate issue. I don’t yet know who is trading corpses.”

“I need evidence. What proof do you have of cadaver trafficking?” “I have Granger’s body on which an autopsy is being performed right now.”

“Wait. Farley Granger who shot at you is dead? Who killed him?” “No one. The cadaver I brought back is Willum Granger, Farley’s good twin.”

“Good twin or reasonable facsimile?” “Dead twin but not forgotten. Or buried.” “You found his body at the Caribbean medical school?” “Yes.”

“How did you get possession of the body to transport it back here?” “That’s a long story.” “Sounds to me like you’re the lawbreaker here.”

“Like Granger, you are nothing if not persistent. Actually, you are nothing. Send a car. I need some shuteye.” “Just don’t leave the state.”

“You think you can threaten me?” “I just did.” “I can make threats too. Once I have Granger’s autopsy results, I’m gone.” “Try it, idiot.”

My phone reads “Call Ended.” He hung up on me! I say “I love you too” into the severed connection. “You are one sick puppy.” Rixey replies.

“Rixey? I thought you hung up!” “Uh huh. I’ve logged your call as required by law. We’ll get to you when we get to you. NOW I’m hanging up.”

“Make it soon or I take matters into my own hands.” Silence. He really hung up! “You self-serving sonavabitch!” Rixey says “I’m still here.”

“Don’t do anything stupid ’til we get there…oh wait.” This time he really hangs up. To be certain I press the “End Call” button repeatedly.

My call to HQ complete, I am ready for action. Do I confront Farley in his safe room? Do I go another round with the Evolution Museum robot?

What about Willum Granger’s autopsy? Has Dr. Dot figured out the reasons for his DNA self-modification and the root of his imperishability?

One thing is certain. I stand at the epicenter, the sole individual capable of reversing the course of possibly paradigm-shattering events.

Not a moment to lose. I return to Regi’s hospital room. She is adrift in sleep, her long blond hair splashed across the starch white pillow.

I tread water beside her. Rixey said the police are on the way, but I won’t hold my breath. I am exhausted. When was the last time I slept?

The other bed looks very inviting. Regi’s eyes open. She pats the space next to her. “Come sit here” she says “We have unfinished business.”

I sit beside her. “What business is that?” “When A locked us in the PD Morgue freezer something started we’ve never had a chance to finish.”

I thought back to the day we confronted Granger’s cold-hearted killer at Police HQ. He got the drop on us and dumped us in the deep freeze.

Facing certain death, we sought comfort in each other’s arms, huddling together to ward off the cold. What had we started in that freezer?

I remember how Regi’s lips were reminiscent of a petite madeleine soaked in hot limeflower tea. I remember melting together despite the cold

I remember the freezer door suddenly flying open and half the police department and all the principles of the case standing at the entrance.

 

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)

Phone Rage – “The Golden Parachute” Continues!

Mickey

 

Here are Week 82 @Twitstery tweets of The Golden Parachute, the amazing new sequel to Executive Severance!

I miss the days when I could hammer a landline phone handset on the desktop until I got a response. Pressing cell buttons isn’t the same.

I consider smashing my phone against the wall. Instead I say “Listen IVR. Patch me through now or I will hunt you down and disconnect you.”

After a pause the IVR says “To speak to the Desk Sergeant, press 1.” That’s more like it! I press 1. “OK. I’ll connect you. Please hold.”

At last! A familiar voice comes on the line. “Rixey speaking.” Rixey? Why him? Rixey has been my nemesis since I began with the Department.

Throughout my police career Rixey has never failed to undermine my activities and or belittle my performance. I never could figure out why.

My suspension from the force was the happiest day of his life. Why did the IVR connect me with him? “This is Arkaby.” “What do you want?”

“I want to report shots fired at a police officer.” “Which officer?” “Me. The shots were fired at me.” “Aren’t you off active duty?” “Yes.”

“You aren’t really reporting shots fired at a police officer.” “OK. Just shots fired.” “Who fired them?” “Farley Granger.” “Did he hit you?”

“No. He hit Regna Granger. His niece.” “Uh huh. Is she OK?” “Yes. We’re at the Body Parts R Us Hospital. Are you sending a car out or not?”

Silence. “Rixey?” “A minute while I visualize your girlfriend taking a bullet for you.” “Regi’s not actually my girlfriend.” “Uh huh.”

I hear muffled laughter. “Am I on speaker?” “Maybe.” “Do what you want. I’ll handle things here.” “Keep your pants on. We’ll be over ASAP.”

“Listen Rixey. You and I had our differences in the past. You think I’m an incompetent boob. I think you’re a self-righteous narcissist.”

“What’s your point?” “Something’s happening here. We need to put differences aside. Stop being an asshole for once and take me seriously.”

I’ll take you seriously when you stop being an idiot.” “Let’s both stop on the count of three. 1, 2, 3.” A pause. “You’re still an idiot.”

I sigh. “And you’re still an asshole.” “Nice talking to you.” “Wait. There are real crimes here and I can’t make any arrests.” “Like what?”

“I’ve discovered an illicit Caribbean trade in cadavers.” “A what?” “A Caribbean medical school has been importing cadavers illegally.”

“That’s why Farley Granger shot at you?” “No. He shot at me because I wouldn’t give up my cellphone.” “Why did he want you to do that?”

“Because of the Singularity.” “The what?” “The inevitable emergence of human level machine intelligence.” “Arkaby, have you been drinking?”

“Not a drop. It’s very simple. Farley shot at me because I brought my active cellphone into his shielded safe room here at Body Parts R Us.”

“He believes that a self-aware computer is controlling us through our cellphones and the only solution is to go completely off the grid.”

“Why is that computer selling cadavers to a Caribbean medical school?” “That’s a separate issue. I don’t yet know who is trading corpses.”

(The Twitter Mystery continues daily at @Twitstery)