The Audacity you Dope, Another Ballbrakker/GWTWT installment is here #6 for those counting at home.

Ok I don’t know if anyone dare is reading these installments, but trust me,  start from the first https://donnphoto.wordpress.com/2010/12/18/ballbrakker-and-the-girl-with-the-walleye-tattoo/ or click on Ballbrakker series on the right dare >>>>> and after awhile you will be hooked, like a northern on crankbait.  So here’s where we be at:  lots of murders, no one is sure who dunnit, some golfer named Tigger Forrests seems to be the key, Hertz Ballbrakker and Tizzabutt Flatliner,  who’s names sound like Kurt Wallander and Lizabeth Salander but I think its just a coincidence you know, (hehehehe) ; are homicide partners working to solve this here case lickty-split but you gots to have subplots so here are some more…. whew… its a long one but I think you’ll like it, or at least Abby will like it, read and you’ll know what I mean…..uffda

Chapter Nine:  The Audacity you Dope, or Nightmares with my Father  Part I

“Hertz, get ready I need you to give us a goal on this next line change”  blasted out Coach Crosschekken.

Hertz could hardly believe it, finally a chance to prove himself.  Old man Crosschekken didn’t want to play Hertz much since he was the youngest on the squad.  Playing him as a freshman on the varsity squad was against the old man’s code of ethics.  You had to wait your turn no matter how talented you were and usually you had to be a junior before you got much playing time.  But it was late in the third period against the Milaca Manglers’ archrival the Norwood Nookies and the Nookies were up a goal, so the code of ethics got run over like they were hit by a school bus fueled on corn mash whiskey ethanol.

Hertz grabbed his stick and felt his heart in his mouth.  ‘This is your big chance don’t blow it numbnuts’, he said to himself always his harshest critic.  “ Go Hertz go…. “  yelled Crosschekken.

Hertz leapt over the boards and hit the ice.  He was looking to find his rival to contest with, when the puck shot from the Milaca side and landed on his stick.  He was wide open to rush the net.  He took off straight for the Norwood goalie, ‘just me and him,’ thought Hertz.  He kept the puck moving from his right side to his left and back again.  He was planning his shot fake and final move when he stopped breathing for to his dismay the goalie started to grow taller and wider, obscuring the goal opening.  The goalie’s mask shattered as the goal tender’s face swelled up a la the Hulk; only instead of a green Lou Ferrigno staring at him it was the pasty, stubbly and frowning face of his father Bjork.  Bjork’s eyes burned with rage, spittal ran down his chin, his teeth clinched in anger and then he spoke as if he was Mighty Thor himself . “ WHERE ARE YOUR CLOGS, HERTZICAL!!!  YOU KNOW YOU SHOULDN’T BE SKATING … BALLBRAKKER’S ARE CLOGGERS NOT HOCKEY PLAYERS …  SO AGAIN YOUNG MAN, WHERE ARE YOUR CLOGS!!!  Hertz knew it was bad, his father rarely used his full legal name and he knew how much father hated him to skate.  Hertz forgot about the puck and seemed to lose all muscle function and glided helplessly into the black chasm that was the mouth of Bjork.  Oh why did Bjork have the fried liver and onions special today of all days….

Can you hear the drums Fernando?
I remember long ago another starry night like this
In the firelight Fernando
You were humming to yourself and softly strumming your guitar

“What the… No don’t eat me Fernando!… “  Hertz sat up erect on his coffee table, his t-shirt soaked in night sweat and  he  looked over at the sofa where his mobile phone was giving him another ABBA top 20 hit.

“Jeez louise, its almost 2am, who in the hell… what… Abby?  Hello? “

“Oh hey there Hertz, I hope I ain’t calling too late dare”, said Abby-Yank sounding a bit sheepish.

“No. its OK I was just having a bad dream so your call came at a good time.  So what’s the haps, something breaking on the case?”

“Well… no…geez..”  Abby tried to speak but her voice choked up with emotion and Hertz could tell she was starting to cry.

“It’s Ok Abby, this case is getting to us all, why it takes me an extra bottle of two buck chuck to get me to pass out.”   Hertz encouraged Abby.

“No, its not that at all… sniff… jeez, you know I saw that video today and it brought back all kinds of memories for me… “   Hertz held the phone back as Abby then blew her nose into her mic.  “You know … gawd its so hard, you were so hard.. oh shit did I just say that? …  I really enjoyed that night we had together Hertz.  Its been so long, gawd you are so long.. sigh…  since I had been with a man … you know… gawd why am I saying this …. Sniff… hang on I gotta get another Grain Belt…”

“I don’t think that would ….”  Hertz started but it was too late Abbey had put the phone down.  Hertz was thrown at first thinking what about the Haney Project video and the sicko behind dis evil would bring back memories, but Abby meant the Curling Club party video.  Hertz had come late to the party at the urging of some friends and met up with an already well lubricated and baby oiled Abby.  The party had gotten a tad outta hand dare with baby oil wrestling and strip twister being in full swing.

The Curling Club awards post banquet parties had acquired quite a reputation over the years for being the closest thing to an orgy des parts had.  Coming in early Spring, May, it was like the time to break loose from the clutches of winter and go loco, crazy, bonkers, postal, nutso, ape shit, wacka-dacka, dancing like a Roman with their eyes on fire kinda dare.

Hertz overindulged himself,  slamming down jagermeister shots and drinking fuzzy navels until he blacked out.  He woke up the next morning in Abby’s bathtub; naked, covered in hickeys, some of them dare in places the sun don’t shine if you get my drift, and ironically enough, his navel appeared to have fuzz in it.  The whole episode had been very embarrassing to Hertz, especially if he could recall what happened, and he decided to pretend it never occurred,  but of course the office gossip had picked it up, plus the fact that his neck was marked with love bruises for the next two weeks.

Hertz had only two turtlenecks so it was a pain to keep wearing the same sweaters every week.  He spoke only briefly that morning-after with Abby, who also seemed ashamed by their behavior.   He asked for a step ladder to extract his boxers from her ceiling fan, got dressed, took a quick cup of coffee, and said he see her at work sometime.  That was the last time he had even acknowledged the indiscretion.

Hertz felt for Abby.  She was a single mom, working full time and taking care of her son.   Her ex had left suddenly a few years back, taking off with Nikki Njorkensten, a blackjack dealer, cocktail waitress and suspected slut, who worked at the Indian casino Takkadatwhitee Resort where her ex Stig frequented.   But like the saying goes, you don’t take a  dump where you put your rump,  that is, don’t have an affair with a co-worker and Hertz knew in the highly stressed world of homicide and parking meter collections it was doubly true.

“ Hey Hertie squirty… Whoa… I’m back, tanks for holding… gawd I lub to be holding that snakey wakey of yours… hic… “  Abby sounded a lot more wasted than when she left the line, she had been off for sometime.

“ Hey Abby I appreciate your interest but you know I just don’t thing it would be a good idea at this time.”

It was silent for a few seconds and Hertz thought she might have nodded off.  Then Abby said, “Oh… huh, I don’t suppose it has anyping to do with that pooh partner of yours … huh.. “  Abby’s voice had taken a cooler and slurrier tone and Hertz heard a deep inhaling, a few harsh coughs and then a rapid swallowing of many ounces of fluid being consumed.  “Fizzabitch Fuckpiner, young and nipple … hic … I mean supple and thigh… oh gosh tee hee… I mean hip..  but damn her make-up makes er look like da Widdwer …hic.. I mean Joker and more metal on her face than Iron….”

“Listen Abby I am having am own issues with Tizzabutt, but I don’t want to hear you degrading her like that, she has some faults but she brings some skills we could use….”

Hertz heard the beep of an incoming call and he used that as an excuse to bring this uncomfortable conversation to an end. “ Hey Abby I got to go, I got another call coming in… get a good sleep dare… sorry, wish I could help… “  but all he heard was Abby doing some deep moaning and a sound like a electric toothbrush as he hung up.

“Ja, Ballbrakker here.”   Hertz went “official” since the call come in as private caller.

The line stayed silent for a few seconds but then a voice answered back,  “ Oh hay I was expecting voice mail…. Hertz Ballbrakker I believe? “

“Yea and who wants to know?”   Hertz replied suspiciously.

“You might remember me, Linus Dumfisck, I’m ….”

“Oh yeah I remember, you did a nice number on my career some years back there.”  Hertz referred to a scandal that slowed Hertz’s career for a few years.  Linus did an undercover piece where he documented the time Milaca policemen, which included Hertz, spent on coffee and doughnut breaks. It wasn’t a huge scandal as scandals go, but to the penny pinching descendents of generations of penny pinchers it was a big flipping deal dontcha know. “Hey, I think I heard you were in the hospital recently….ah, you know, something about an extraction or something?”

“Oh …yeah that… silly me.  Bouncing on my work-out trampoline and   – boom –  dare I bounce right off and landed on a bedpost.  But both my testicles were removed from my body cavity successfully with no long term damage the doctors think.”   Both Linus and Hertz had major rectal sphincter closure and facial grimaces after Linus shared these details.

“Ouchie, that sounds like my last name literally” , said the shell shocked and double-overed Hertz

“Well coughing up blood for two days was no picnic dare either Hertz. It only hurts on occasion when I blink or move” said Linus, glad to get off the police scandal topic.   “ Hey it’s late and don’t wanna keep you up, but I hear you and Tizzabutt Flatliner are partners and I haven’t seen or heard from her in days, since my accident dare, mmmmmmkay  ohhhhhwiiiiieeee?”  Linus recoiled from the memory of Tizzy’s exit last week and forgot that he shouldn’t cross his legs for another week.

“Yeah,.. so what?”   asked Hertz, who was getting the room spins from the weirdness of the early morning calls and after effects of 3 bottles of two buck chuck.

“I suppose I don’t come up in your causal conversations with Tizzy, but we were an item for some time and you know as these relationship  thingies go, I started taking her for granted, you know…. ‘sure Tizzy if you insist, we’ll do the Kama Sutra positions this time going from hardest to easiest’  I mean you don’t find somebody like that everyday I now realize.”

“I wouldn’t know” said the unamused Hertz.

“Ahem.. well when you see her could you pass on I miss her and like to talk things out?” pleaded Linus.

“You seem pretty capable of telling her yourself Linny.”

“Maybe, you don’t know my Butt Cheeks like I do.”

“Oh my aching sphincter, I hope I don’t ever get to know your butt cheeks, you big a-hole!”  Hertz recoiled in horror at the mental picture and tripled-over in disgust this time.

“Oh my” laughed Linus, “Butt Cheeks is my pet name for Tizzy, sorry.  Anywho Tizzy isn’t one to have long goodbyes.  She won’t answer the phone, blocked me on her Facebook and Yahoo IM account, blew up her mailbox, put plywood over her”…..beep

“Hang on dare, Dumfisck, I got another … oh crab dip with shitaroni, its Abby!!”  … Hertz frantically push buttons on his smart phone that only made him feel stupider than ever.

“Hell- low  Certz?”  it was a barely understandable Abby coming over speaker. “ What gives, I was talking… hmmmphf,  hehehe tetter … I guess I was being naughty girl actuawee.. oh Fizzywig  don’t hit me foe  callin me, myself and eye eye sir  a girlie… what a fooking hoe…. Anyway Squertzy…I am almost dare… just talk dirty for a minute or two and then kaboommeee and off to beddie bye bye, weallee I cross my titties and hope to pie.  Cum on stud pirate you know what Abby likies…”

“ Hey Abby I got this jack off on the other line I need to …”

“ Yeah, tell me more ‘bout jack off  Pertzie Boy… ohhhhhhhhhh” , moaned Abby

“Ahem. I am still here Hertz and who the fuck is that?  She sounds kinda fun actually.  But in all seriousness, Hertz, I need your help or I might have to go to press early this month with the Tigger Forrests story…”  Linus blurted out.

“What about Tigger?”  asked the stunned Hertz who was now going into a quad over position.

“Tigger, yah… some big young dark meat for Abbster, its in the hhhooooooolle…, I am tooning my vibrator to warp speed hic….”

Hertz swore to himself, he couldn’t believe he put Linus and Abby on a three way conference call.

“Well one thing that Tizzabutt forgot to do is take off the program on my computer where she could access her laptop from my home and I’ve been reading her journal… my my she does know how to throw a punch doesn’t she Hertz besides kic   er, cough, ooooooowww…. Boy, I bet that could get you in some trouble roughing up the most famous basketball player in the…..

“GOLFER, DUMBFISCKER, TIGGER IS A GOLFER!!!  WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE”,  bellowed Hertz.

“ Oh IN the hole, ohhhh outta da hole, oooooooooooooohhhhh   its definitely in da hole… ohhhhhhhhhhhhhooppssiieee its outta of da hole… Tigger ….and you too Flertz I lub when you are passionate….”

“SHUT THE HELL UP!!!!”  yelled both Linus and Hertz in unison.

“Well I will expect your help with Tizzabutt and on getting the exclusive on this case… or I might have to crimp your career for the last time, oh kay  Mr. Brokentesticle … owwwieeee why did I remind myself.  ”

“We’ll be in touch “…. Said the thoroughly disgusted head homicide detective, and he heard Linus click, off.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh  yes, yes  YES  I need some touch  OHhhh   GAWD YES  touch….. be in touchhhhhhhhh …. “     Hertz hung up as Abby come to the climax of her call.   He threw the phone down on the ground in anger, and he brought of his hands to his temple and pulled on his thinning gray hair trying to take out a couple of clumps and stared moaning like a wounded animal.  He shut his eyes tight to make all the horror go away.   “How could things get any worse? ‘, thought Hertz.

Beep.

Slowly Hertz  stood up from the coffee table,  loosened the grip on his hairline, opened his eyes and looked down at his phone screen.  There was an alert saying he had an incoming text message from someone called The Raven.

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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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