Excerpts from The Girl with the Itchy Tigger Finger Part III

What if Wallander met The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and they lived in Minnesota dare,  …. thus the continued action packed novel excerpts featuring homicide detective,  Hertz Ballbrakker and Tizzabutt Flatliner or aka as The Girl with the Walleye Tattoo….

Chapter Six:  Off Duty and on guard

Hertz limped slowly up the path to the main doors of Suay Bui Bui Senior Living complex.  His new partner had left her imprint on various parts of Hertz’s torso and lower limbs, but none worse than the kick to his upper leg muscle.  She was gonna to be a pain in the ass and many other areas it appeared.  Hertz didn’t think she’d take being called Flaty that badly.

Hertz thought the newly opened center would be a good place for his father, Bjork who had been in failing health and starting to show signs of dementia.  The door to his room was open slightly and Hertz quietly opened the door and walked in.

“Hi, pops… how’s it swinging big guy?”  Hertz softly and ackwardly spoke.

“For the love of God and all his saints, if it ain’t me no good bastard son, Hertz the Nertz. Nice of you to show up to my final burial grounds ass wipe.”  snarled Bjork.  He was fully medicated and ready for action.

“Goshdarn it Dad, dis here is darn nice place, it ain’t your home I grant ja dat, but it ain’t no dump dare neither. “

“Kiss my wrinkled butt cheek,…. You got me in a place called Say Bye Bye, you fucking moron!  Oh, I am sorry; was The Smell of Death Center all booked up?”  he said sarcastically.  “ Speaking of dumps, you wanta empty my bedpan, the crack staff here seems to take permanent coffee breaks dontcha know?”

“Sorry Dad, I didn’t think you’d hate it so much,….  And I was told that Suay Bui Bui means peaceful meadow with leaping caribou in the Sioux language.  ”

“ I got your leaping caribou right here,”    Bjork replied pulling the covers back and mooning Hertz.  “ I otter sue you … you .. cough.. cough….”

“Can’t you see you making grandoppah worse Father!”  It was the voice of his daughter Belinda coming from behind his right shoulder.

“Holy Reindeer droppings dar Bee, you almost made me do a number two in my boxers, young lady!  He approached her to give her a hardy handshake, but she turned away.

“Get away you creeper, you don’t call, you don’t write, you don’t visit grandoppah or myself, and you don’t floss daily do you, Papa Loser?!”

“Like you two should talk, seeing Dad’s  unwiped behinder and you scaring the krumbcake outta me, you wonder why I don’t see either of you very often.”

“ BS Dad!… it’s your all consuming job … you need to let go.”  Belinda was almost apoplectic with disgust.

“ I vote for just going… the sooner the better.”  sneared Bjork.

§   §   §   §

Tizzy stared up at the popcorn texture of Linus Dumfisck’s ceiling, and kept seeing Hertz Ballbrakker’s face appear in the abstract patterns.

“Fucking ah” she muttered in disgust of not shaking him out of her mind.

“What’s that you say dar Tiz?”  inquired Linus.  Propped up in bed with his readling glasses barely balanced on his nose. He held his 36 oz Big Gulp coffee mug in one hand and in the other he held the latest edition of his magazine “The Loon”.

“Nothing …. Just thinking about work dats all”  Tizzabutt said, telling only a partial truth dare.

Linus, peering over his glasses,  admired her youthful athletic body, with her smooth skin, her finely toned muscles and the walleye tattoo that made Tizzy one of a kind.  His nether regions felt a slight spark.

“ Yeah, I shore like to know why you decided to leave the white collar investigation unit for Homicide.  I mean you and I just broke the biggest case in Minnesota history and then you up and leave with no notice.”

Linus was referring to the Henny Decker case, where they exposed the nefarious financial affairs of Minnesota’s biggest snowmobile dealer. Linus appreciated how his contact with Henny’s seventh ex-wife opened the door for Tizzabutt to hack into Decker’s financial network and  which revealed how he was selling snowmobiles for below his cost, but getting loans for several times their actual book value and then laundering the money into his  vast real estate holdings that included several wild rice harvesting operations and his Henny Penny brand turkey processing plants.  Henny was now doing jail time as his former snowmobile supplier Tundra Rat and numerous banks sued to recover the $756 million in money Henny owed them.  The Loon’s circulation and revenue had skyrocketed with the months and months of articles detailing the sorted history of Henny. Now all of Decker’s ex-wives were coming forward and revealing all kinds of new information for Linus to work with.

“Ah, its all about you isn’t it, Linnie?  I mean I could spend the rest of my days  hacking and doing computer research , I suppose, but I was bored out of my mind.  I want to be  that cop that puts the cuffs on scumbags like Henny.  After I beat the living crap out of them, that is.”

“ No Butt cheeks I didn’t mean to hold you back, but we worked so well together and I know dare are months or even years of dirt I… er… we can get on this creep.  But your little linnie dummie will support whatever you choose to do, with the understanding  of course, that you give up all your future royalties on articles and books this case produces.”

“You’re a real gentleman dare Anus.  I guess you don’t need me around anymore, well I got plenty of sorority sisters or strippers I can find some cheap thrills with.   Why don’t you go back to dat blonde bimbo Cheesie to get your buns toasted.”

Linus hated when Tiz used that nickname for his editor at The Loon and former lover,  Chelsea Burger.  “ You know Chelsea and me are done.  It’s you I want to share my Big Gulp and have some little Dumfiscks with.  Sorry you feel like dat,  I think you should take some alone time and do what your heart desires, my widdle walleye wiggles.”

“I need to get on my Vespa and grab some fresh air, clear my head and redye my hair green.  And I am long overdue for a visit with my mother.  Maybe that new senior center will make her snap out of her catatonic state.  But what a fucked up name, Suay Bui Bui”.

“Bye Bye Flatey.  Call when you want some real man meat.”   absentmindedly said Linus who was focusing on the adult personals in the back pages of the Loon.  He unfortunately didn’t see Tizzabutt’s black Gucci boot coming swiftly to greet his man meat area.

About donnphoto

Photographer, writer, manufacturer's rep. Specialize in fine art, travel and architectural photography. Writing a fictional novel (see Ballbrakker links) and music lyrics. Sell commercial interior building products. Play golf poorly. www.donnphoto.com
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