STEVE SMITH, P.I.

I had to hand it to STEVE SMITH. For all his Cryptid ways, he was a forgiving creature. Totally let bygones be bygones, despite the fact I had tried to Sanction him. No, really. I did.

“WHAT CHEESE PERSON NEED?” STEVE asked me.

“STEVE, SugarFree has gone missing. We know you can find anyone, anywhere, will you help us get him back home?”

“STEVE SMITH DO IT! HIM LIKE SUGARFREE HOOMAN. HIM FUNNY…AND SCARY! 500 PINE NEEDLES DAY, PLUS EXPENSE.”

“OK, STEVE. We will Zelle you the first 2000 pine needles, … and there is a pile of Oak leaves and bird nests for the taking, if you can find him before Wednesday.”

“JACKPOT! STEVE SMITH GO FIND NOW!”

He roared off in his red sports car – heavily modified to fit him and take the weight. I wonder if he bought it used, off of Shaquille O’Neal?

 

 

My phone rang fairly early the next morning.

“Ja. I am here. Who is speaking?” Wasn’t sure if it was my Swiss Masters or not, so I played it neutral.

“Good morning, Swiss.”

Mexican sharpshooter…now what?

“Yes, what have you got going on?”

“STEVE SMITH asked for some…assistance. It is ready.”

“Great. I suppose I have to be part of this?

“Of course.” I could hear the smile behind his remark.

“On the way.”

 

Mex was impeccably dressed, semi-Hawaiian style. Oh no…

“Please tell me STEVE SMITH isn’t playing ‘Magnum PI’ with all this?” I implored Mex.

“Very well, I will not tell you.”

“OK, so who are you supposed to be? Rick?”

“Yes, I am just going to give you some intel I gathered and look good in the background.”

“Fine, what do you have.”

“It appears a splinter cell of Jezebel writers, former, then rehired when that…thing got bought and resurrected, decided that Sug’s mockery of them WAS NOT FUNNY. So they are holding him at a safe house.”

“Wouldn’t SugarFree just be able to explode their heads by reciting some of his works at them?” I didn’t like the way this was going.

“Sure, but his morbid sense of humor is probably tickled by this. Plus, he might just be bored and want something to break up the routine” Mex shrugged.

“OK then, I guess I am …oh no, not Higgins?! Who is TC then?”

Mex grinned and pointed over to a swiftly landing helicopter.

“Landing now, Mr. SMITH!”

“But he works for Don Brett” I objected.

“Brett was happy to lend him to STEVE SMITH. They have a …working relationship.”

“STEVE SMITH READY. EVERYONE GET IN FLYING THINGY. WE SAVE SUGARFREE.”

 

 

The safe house appeared somewhat isolated, and easily approachable. I was suspicious.

“STEVE SMITH LEAD WAY!” STEVE was bounding up to the front door as we ran behind him.

BLAM! The front door went flying in, and we followed a grinning STEVE SMITH.

“SUGARFREE HOOMAN! WE HERE SAVE YOU!” STEVE bellowed as we came into the front room.

All we saw was one startled young woman at a laptop, at a small desk.

“WHERE HOOMAN CALL SUGARFREE?!” demanded STEVE.

“He…he is in back, I think” she stammered out. “I am just researching an article, please.” She quivered in her chair and turned back to the screen.

As we pushed forward, to save SugarFree, STEVE SMITH whirled around and yelled “JEZEBEL WRITER NO RESEARCH ARTICLE” and sprang at the woman, who was now brandishing a battered AK-47. Uh, things did not go well for her.

As STEVE SMITH… finished up, we poured into the back room.

 

 

“Dr. STEVE SMITH, I presume.”

“SugarFree?!”

SugarFree was relaxing at the back window, enjoying a pipe.

“Ah, something told me you would make it here. Is STEVE SMITH with you?”

“Yes, but he is…occupied at the moment. What are you doing?! Where is everyone else?”

“I was just seeing how this would all play out. Oh, the others…left.”

“You started sharing writing ideas with them, didn’t you?

“Perhaps. Either way, they were too soft to listen.”

“Can you come back, and make sure the Glibs don’t revolt, if we don’t have SugarFree content on Wednesday?”

“Oh, surely. I might even have a couple of new ideas” he gave a bit of a wry grin.

 

~fin~