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An online newspaper featuring the columns of C.G. Scavola |
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Run That By Me Again by C.G. Scavola We'll always have Angel's BBQ "It happened so quickly," she said. "One minute I was standing there, the next minute the Von Guttersnipe Diamond was gone and all that was left was ..." "The distinct odor of a ham sandwich," I said. "How did you know?" "I always know," I told her. "This case has the Fat Man all over it, nosewise." "Greasewise, too," she said, as she licked her fingers. They were nice looking fingers and she was a nice looking girl, in a grease-smeared-face sort of way. She had a bewildered look about her and her blue eyes seemed to stare right through me. "Can you help me?" she said. "We'll get the diamond back," I said. "I mean can you help get this grease off my face? It's smearing my makeup." "I thought it was your makeup," I said. "You don't know much about women," she said. "Have you ever been married?" "I'm too busy chasing the Fat Man," I said. "Too bad you didn't catch him before he made off with my diamond," she said. I looked closely at her. She smiled. Grease dripped off the end of her chin. I was overcome by desire "You're drooling," she said. "Would you like to lick my chin?" "I would adore it," I told her, "but we have to find your diamond." "Oh that old thing," she said. "I've got lots of diamonds." I looked at her again, but saw her differently. The fabulous Von Guttersnipe Diamond was sought by collectors all over the world. Its history was one of intrigue, murder, betrayal ... "And ham," came a voice from behind me. "Yes," I said. "It was found in a pigsty in Nebraska, wasn't it?" "Indeed," said the Fat Man. "And it was once owned - no, twice - by Carl Jones, who owned the Jones Packing Company, which sold ..." "... wholesale ham," I said. "And your grandfather worked for Carl Jones." "And he might have owned that empire of ham, if Jones had not cheated him out of it," said the Fat Man. "That makes the diamond mine, you see." I turned and said, "I see you have almost finished your ham sandwich." "Can I have what's left?" she said? I turned. Her eyes were ablaze, her face radiant, her hair ... her hair still had a lot of fat in it, but she looked pretty well energized otherwise. "You've got a pig on your back," I said. "I'm trying to quit," she said. "But just the rest of that sandwich. Just one bite. Just let me lick it, smell it, get close to it." The Fat Man held out the sandwich. He said, "Of course, my dear. I understand. We're the same sort of people, aren't we? We love ham sandwiches ... and huge diamonds." "To hell with the diamond," she said. "Give me that sandwich." She had a pistol and she pointed it at the Fat Man's ample belly. The Fat Man laughed, his belly shaking. The barrel of the gun wavered as she tried to keep it centered on the Fat Man's writhing girth. The Fat Man held the sandwich over the writhing. "You wouldn't wound a ham sandwich, would you?" he said, his jowls shaking. I reached for the gun. She turned it on me. The Fat Man moved toward the door. She turned the gun back on him. I said, "Give me the diamond. She can buy lots of ham with the diamond." "I need ham now," she said, and pulled the trigger. The pistol popped and a flag rolled up on a stick came out of the barrel. As the flag unfurled itself the Fat Man read it, silently, his lips moving with this girth. "Angel's BBQ in Savannah, Georgia?" he said. "Lovely pulled pork there," she said dreamily. "But they might make you a ham sandwich, given the proper inducement." "We have the diamond, my dear," said the Fat Man. "Shall we go south?" She turned the gun on me and said, "Sorry, but this case will have to be continued. I'll get that pig off my back another time." I stood in the empty room smelling the ham and seeing her blazing eyes and radiant face and wishing I had buried my nose in her greasy hair. I wondered if I had a pig on my back, too. I pulled out my phone and called the airport, then I Googled Angel's BBQ in Savannah to order a delivery to tide me over until I got there. Maybe, just maybe, she would not have washed her hair. Copyright 2011, Robert A. Markwalter |
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Any resemblence in this material to any person, living or dead or in suspended animation, is purely coincidental. Planning a visit to Savannah, GA? Run That By Me Again author Bob Markwalter is also a licensed Savannah tour guide. Visit Savannah, the Walking City at www.walkingsavannah.com to see more about Bob's tours and tour services and the beautiful ante-bellum city of Savannah. ©1998 - 2011, Robert A. Markwalter. All rights reserved. |