Cannibal Dwarf Detective: An Ephemeral Beardening Read Free Page B

Armando wants you back at the
station. You’ve been gone a week. Something about getting really drunk in
chapter four. Here, draw a mustache on your finger and hold it under your nose
until we can get you a replacement.”
               
Back at the station while Feac was away, the janitorial wizard cleaned his
office of all the toilet paper.
               
“Feac, come to my office now! I need you!” screams Armando.
               
Feac skips over to Armando’s office and yelps,” Yeah boss?”
               
“I need you to light my pipe.”
               
“First I need you to get me a mustache or else my cover will be blown.”
               
Armando reaches down and pulls open the top drawer of his desk. It is
completely filled to the brim with randomly assorted styles of fake mustaches.
He takes a small brown bag and fists a handful of ‘staches into it.
               
“There you go dingbat. These should last you a while. Or… Or I don’t know.
You’ll have to scalp people and sew their hair onto your face! Ha-ha! I’m
kidding of course. That’d be really messed up. Please don’t do that.”
               
“Thanks boss, “Feac says, accepting the sack-o-’staches while a seed of malice
takes root in his mind. He walks across the room and pulls out a dwarf-sized
lighter (it’s actually just normal sized), lights the pipe and then takes his
place on the overturned laundry basket in front of Armando’s desk. Reaching
into his sack-o-’staches, he pulls out a large red-colored handlebar mustache,
licks the back and slaps it above his lips. Armando takes a thirty minute
inhalation and then releases all the smoke at once, flooding the office with
noxious fumes. It takes all of Feac’s strength to crawl across the floor and
open the window.
               
“Now,” says Armando. “Can you explain this to me?” He reaches inside his desk
once more and pulls out a small, grainy-looking photo. A clearly naked figure
stands center frame, but beyond that it is impossible to determine who or what
it is.
               
“No, I really can’t, sir,” says Feac.
               
“Well, how about this then?”
               
Armando turns and presses a large green play button residing on the left-hand
side of his desk. The entire back wall of his office starts making creaking
noises as hydraulic pumps lift it up and away like a garage door. Jeac finds
himself staring out into the wastes of Chandaka.
               
“I couldn’t afford a TV,” says Armando, “but I was able to afford the ruins of
an old movie theater in the wastes. I bought it for the price of all your
alcohol.”
               
He presses another button and two telescopes rise from beneath the wood
paneling. Jeac and Armando each take a place behind one of the rusted old tubes
and focus their view down on the distant theater projector screen.
               
The screen has a far less grainy and more graphic depiction of the content
displayed in the photograph. A naked dwarf stands wind-milling his penis in
front of a hot dog stand, yelling, “I got your wieners right here, ladies!”
               
Armando turns and hits the button on his desk once more. The hydraulics fail
and his wall shuts so violently that both he and the dwarf are thrown across
the room. Coughing up blood from internal bruising, they stand in agony and
head back to Armando’s desk.
               
“That’s all security got of your escapades in chapter four, Jeac. Do you have
any recollection of what you did a week ago? This offense is punishable by
suspension. But we can’t do that because you’re already undercover. It wouldn’t
make sense for a cop, portraying a fake cop, to have to go undercover as
another fake cop.”
               
Jeac flaps his arms in a panic, attempting to fly like a chicken.