Taking a Deep Breath - @Studio30Plus Writing Prompt

"Try taking a deep breath" I suggested. She sat in front of me, breasts heaving, trying to catch her breath. She appeared at my door moments ago, wild-eyed and trembling. "Detective Case?" she had gasped. I knew she was frightened by something. Hey, I'm a detective, right? So I put my sleuthing skills to the test as she crumpled into my office chair.

"How can I help you?" I asked in my best-ever inquiring detective voice.

She swallowed hard, averted her eyes and folded her arms over those heaving breasts. My detecting skills determined she was amply endowed.

"What was that?" I said. Good Lord. I'd been so busy inspecting, urm, detecting her heaving bazooms I'd zoned out.

"I said 'Can you help me?'"

"Yes, of course" I coughed as I shifted my gaze, regretfully, to her face. My detecting senses switched into high gear. I realized I'd seen that face before. "Wait a minute" I said with surprise "I've seen your face before." And those heaving breasts I thought to myself.

"Yes" she said and lowered her eyes coquettishly. "I'm Henrietta the Jalapeño Popper Princess."

Of course, I thought, I'd seen her on late night local PBS TV pushing poppers to people like me who can't sleep. Jalapeño poppers. But my sleuthing abilities should have determined this because, man, she was hot.

"Someone's killed Pierre" she moaned.

"Pierre?"

"Yes, Pierre, the portly pepper popper promoter. I push peppers for Pierre."

"You push peppers?"

"Yes, silly" she replied purposefully, "on Public TV in Pittsburgh."

"Yes, yes you do. And may I say you're a very pretty pepper popper pusher."

She fluttered her eyelashes and avoided my gaze. Hey, at least I was staring at her eyes.

"I want you to relax Ms Popper Princess. Like I tell all my clients 'Case is on the case'" I said smugly. That was an expression I'd come up with all on my own. I even had business cards to that effect. A case of them.

"Let me see if I can sum things up for us. Your pal Pierre the portly pepper popper promoter employs you - Henrietta the Jalapeño Popper Princess - to push poppers in Pittsburgh on Public Television for which you get paid. But now your pay has been pre-empted because a person has popped Pierre?" I proclaimed.

Her penetrating pupils made me palpitate as she purred "Perfect!" She perkily proclaimed "So you can solve this case, Mr., um, Case!".

"Probably."

The Polka Dot Door

A long time ago, when I was 22, my first child was born. That kid grew up on a little Canadian kid's show called Polka Dot Door, produced by the TV Ontario network. And Dad, more often than not, sat through those shows with his little one. Nine or so years later when a brother, and a year after that when a sister came along number one son was moving on to Knight Rider and The Dukes of Hazzard. But there was a nice overlap where his siblings picked up where he had left off with Polka Dot Door. And Dad was right there to welcome them. So you're looking at a Polka Dot Door veteran. The show began in 1971 and ran to 1993. I didn't watch the full run but I did get in my fair share. The formula was pretty simple. A young male and female host, which seemed to change every week, sang songs, told stories, made crafts and generally did their best stimulate little brains. The show opened as follows... Imagination Day! Oh boy! You know what happens on Imagination D

My Back Pages - November

I know, I know, I know I should have reported in before now. But sometimes real life just gets in the way. I attempted 5 books in November. I say attempted because I slapped a big DNF (did not finish) on Neal Stephenson's Cryptonomicon. I just can't seem to get into this guy. It's the second or third of his I've given up on, Not so the other four, starting with a biography of Stephen Stills called Change Partners. This followed by a hilarious biography of the guy responsible for National Lampoon called A Stupid and Futile Gesture - How Doug Kenney and National Lampoon Changed Comedy Forever. I ended the month reading yet another biography, this one of the man behind Rolling Stone magazine,. It was called Sticky Fingers: The Life and Times of Jann Wenner and Rolling Stone Magazine. A fascinating read. So last month I hit the magic number 50 I'd imagined for myself back in January. If I roll this month into my yearly total I'm at 54 books. And I still hav

30 Days of Photos III #4 Sour

Check out Ziva's Inferno for the rest of today's photos.

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