CHAPTER 2
Arthur and Sid raced through the crowded and hot streets of New New York in their Chevrolet. The engine purred under the bonnet, the buildings flashed by.
“You’re driving like a wuss,” noted Sid.
“Please do not wind me up Sid, I have had enough of Fawh doing that today.”
“I said sorry,” said Fawh as the air freshener grew a mouth.
Arthur swerved in shock, “Fawh, you fool, what are you doing here?”
“I’m following you two ‘cause I’m bored.”
Arthur parked outside the Cellar Club. “You stay here Fawh,” he ordered.
“What as?” he asked.
“Anything.”
“A fly?”
“A person, then you can move the car if a cop comes along.”
Arthur slammed the car door then he along with Sid walked down the steps to the Cellar club.
The Cellar Club was a dank stenched cesspit of iniquity. Bums, ladies of the night, rakes, other garden implements, lowlifes and continuing descriptive descriptions of the slime of humanity flowed in and out of its dark stenchiness. Arthur got to the bottom of the stairs. “It is a bit dark and stenchy down here Sid. Can you hit the lights?”
“You and your human eyes, a slight loss of light and you trip over.” As Sid said that Arthur tripped over. Sid hit the lights.
YOU ARE READING
The Detective One
Science FictionThe Fifth book in the Arth Series. Arthur and the rest are cooped up in the cowboy/detective dimension. Mr. White-not-Black has been murdered and they must find the culprit. Yes it is supposed to be funny.
