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------------------------------------ There was a large painting of Evel Knievel shaking hands with Richard Nixon. It hung in the Mayors office. Late one evening after everyone went home. I took it down to the lab. I zoomed in on Evel’s left eye a 100x and enhanced it. It was an address. I went to the address. It was a modest, 1970’s style, split level ranch home in the suburbs.
----------------------------------- Inside I found a dead parrot lying on a waterbed. I revived the parrot with some saltines and adrenaline. We became good friends. The parrots name was Randy. One night a few years later while Randy and me played Gin Rummy, he sang me a song about a fire. The title of this blog was never mentioned but I sensed it, and Randy confirmed it by giving me ‘THE LOOK’.
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You hate to leave Linda hanging but she has clearly lost her mind. Oh well, you might as well head to Vegas with all this cash. You call up yer old buddy Foster, who lives up there. Not only is he happy to hear from you but he says he owes you one. And by owe and one he means cocaine and plenty of it! So its off to Vegas baby. A change of scenery could do you some good. It sure as hell couldn’t hurt.
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