Larry Bobo zombie Detective and the case of the missing foot

sorry again for the sophomoric humor of this. It's the last attempt I hope. I hope to offend less people this time. Inspired by Mel Brooks.

                                                                

                                                             Larry Bobo zombie Detective and the case of the missing foot

                                                                                                                  By

                                                                                              Carlos Lorenzo Estrada 

      

     Beams of moonlight cast across her beautiful covered face from the half open window blinds.  An ominous portent of things to come. The dame was hot, like melted butter on a skillet ready to fry my favorite dish, Canadian liver with a side of German pickles.  As she spoke a half smoked cigarette dangled precariously along the corner of her mouth.  This mummy wasn't the brightest bird on the block, because if she was then she would have seen the obvious "no smoking" sign hanging outside the door.  Blonds...am I right?  I mean it's just a guess because I couldn't see the drapes from all the old worn wrappings that covered her body.  But she had pretty hands; moldy, dry, and decayed. Just how I like my women.   Oh, yeah.  She had been rambling on for the past 15 minutes, and I have to admit I didn't listen to a single word.  I was still recovering from the stupid joke that Count Butternutts told me the other night.  Lemonade...hehehe, the dumbest punchline I've ever heard.

     "...so I followed him to a Syrian bagel shop down in Elm street, I'm sure you know the one, Mr. Bobo.  Across from the old blockbuster and to the right of Dr. Big Hands proctology and seance shop.  Speaking of which they truly have a vast array of prayer beads and tarot reading cards.  You look like someone that would have an appreciation for such things, Detective.  As I was saying..."

     Damn.  She's still talking.  Lemonade....so stupid.

                                                                                                   FIVE HOURS LATER

     "...and I know this is an assumption but I believe my husband is up to no good.  That's why I have decided to hire you, Detective Bobo, I suspect something is afoot."

     "Grrr. Arggg..grr..argg?" I asked

     "No...not a foot.  Afoot."

     "Grr, arggg."

     "No, I'm not asking you to look for a foot.  I suspect something is afoot."

     "Argggg...grr?"

     "What do you mean what size?  I'm not asking you to look for my husband's feet.  I simply said...afoot."

     "Grr...argg...arg?"

     "What does my husband's penis size have to do with this?  I said afoot!"

     Blonds...am I right?  Lemonade...so dumb.

      

     

Reviews

[Samuel Dickens]

I may have short circuited a few brain cells, but came through to the end with an appreciation of what you've done here. Mel Brooks channeling Poe? Maybe a little Python thrown in, too? Bizarre, demented, and totally delightful! Now I shall spend the day trying to think of the joke that goes with that punchline. Lemonade. Hmmm.

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

You are spot on with your assessment, Samuel. I do enjoy the quirky British humor of Monte Python, who could ever forget the skit about the dead parrot. Or Brooks classic Young Frankenstein, which inspired the way Larry communicates. When it comes to satirical humor I will be the first to admit it is a weakness of mine. But it was so refreshing to challenge myself by doing something out of my comfort zone. I envision this character as almost a Robert Crumb like comic strip. I wish I had the talent of the great social satirist George Carlin. Writing this short vignette gave me an even greater appreciation of comedy in its art form.