More additions – Bob, P. I.



Bob tossed his empty coffee cup at Rick and almost sprinted to the door.  “Let’s go champ!”  He called over his shoulder to Nick as he went.


Nick picked up his pace and followed Bob out. 


“Hey” Bob called  “haven’t forgotten about T. J. have you?”  He moved quickly toward his BMW.


“Who?” Then is occurred to Nick  “Don’t do it Bob!  T. J. Hooker was the 80’s too!”


He was too late.  Bob left his feet in a leap and landed squarely on the hood of the black car.  However unlike T. J, Bob did not slide.  He scrambled around on the hood of the car until he caught hold of a windshield wiper and held steady, then looked back at Nick helplessly through his dark glasses.


Nick approached slowly, smiling as he went.  “Nice T. J.   Isn’t the idea to slide off the other side then jump in the car and fire it up?”


“Shut up and give me a hand.”  Bob said.


“You talkin to me T. J.?”  Nick did his best Robert DeNiro.  “You talkin to me?”


“Yeah, yeah.  This is real funny for you isn’t it?”  Bob held out a hand for help. 

Nick couldn’t let it go.  “I’m the only one here.  You talkin to me?  Hey Bob, who’s that, huh?”


“You being an idiot.”  Bob slid awkwardly over the fender and safely to the ground. 


“Taxi Driver!  DeNiro!  Come on, that’s 70’s.”  Nick laughed.  “How about this one?”  Nick curled his lip and struck a pose.  “Go ahead, make my day.”  They both got in the car and Bob ignored him as he searched for his keys.  “Hey, that hood slide made my day, that’s for sure.”


Bob shot Nick a dirty look as he started the car, but the banter continued.  “Or this one.”  Nick continued.  “The horror!  The horror!”  He slapped Bob on the arm.  “No?  Brando, Apocalypse Now.  The horror, that’s what I was thinking when I saw your big butt go airborne.”


Bob sighed disgustedly.  “Having fun?”


“OK, this one then:  “You’re gonna need a bigger boat.”  Nick said.  “No again?  Jaws, 1975 I think.  Only in your case it’s you’re gonna need a bigger car, because your rear almost didn’t fit on the hood of the BMW.”


“Nonstop funny, that’s life with you.”  Bob growled.  “Can I drive now without all of the hilarious side notes?”


Nick looked forward and smiled after a moment. “Sure, go on, if you can see past the wrecked hood of your new car.


Bob looked  “Oh, crappage!”  He stared forlornly at the enormous dent in the hood of the BMW.


“You need to lay off the coffee and doughnuts there Lukey Duke.”  Nick mused.


“This isn’t funny.  Look at my car.”  Bob lamented.


“Oh, you mean that big butt print there on the hood?” 


“Cute.  That could cost me a grand easy.  Good thing I have insurance.”  Bob said.


“Does State Farm cover butt marks in their policy?”  Nick asked as they pulled out of the lot and headed for downtown.  “I’ll tell you Bob, I was feeling a little out of it this morning.  But after watching you do your butt slide, I have to say, I was cured alright.”  He looked out of the corner of his eye at his partner.  “No.?  Really Bob, and here you are the 70’s expert.  A Clockwork Orange!”


“Always with the funny, aren’t you?”  Bob mumbled.


Fleshing out dialogue for Bob, P. I.


“How many times do you suppose you two have broken up over the years?”  Nick asked.


“Twenty.  Thirty.  Who counts?”  Bob smiled.  “Anyway, I always part company with the ladies on good terms.  You know what I always say:  Do them and forget them.  But be nice when you forget them because you might want to do them again.”


“Great motto to live by Bob.  The kind of motto that causes multiple marriages and a lot of P.O.’ed ex girlfriends.”  Nick said.


“Funny but they keep right on coming now don’t they?  The next woman takes me out is gonna light up like a pinball machine, and pay off in silver dollars.”  Bob countered.


“What?”  Rick asked.


“It’s a movie quote.  Bob’s stays up at night memorizing them.  It’s from …”  Nick explained.  “don’t tell me.”  He looked up at the ceiling.  “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nestt!”


“Year?”  Bob pointed at him but got silence.  “1975.”


Nick turned to Rick.  “I told you.   He has a book or something, internet, whatever.  He studies this stuff.”


“You two are made for each other.”  Rick added.

Excerpt from Bob, P.I.

Another little passage from Bob, P. I. 


The two thieves, unkempt and redneck, turned and stood next the pickup.


“You here ’bout the Craigslist ad?”  One of the scraggly looking dudes asked.


“Observations Mr, Spock.”  Bob turned to Nick.


“Two lower forms of humanoid life, Captain.  I believe they were known as white trailer trash.”  Nick replied.


“What the …?”  One of the men remarked.


“Look.  You want that computer on Craigslist?”  The other hillbilly asked.  He looked back at the television. “Almost new.  Ain’t never been dropped or nothin’.  Or, you like this TV?  I don’t need it.  My old lady don’t like it no more.  Give you a deal.”


“Your old lady?”  Bob smiled “You mean the one you pushed down at WalMart?”  Bob turned to Nick “Someone needs to talk to Mrs. Fentress about her taste in men.”


“You cops?”  One of the men asked.


“No.” Nick answered.


“Then what are you?”  The man pursued.


“I’m an asshole.” Nick answered “He’s a bigger asshole.”


One of the hilbilly’s reached into the bed of the truck and came up with a rusted tire iron and a thick wooden rod a little shorter than a yard stick.  He handed the rod to the other man.


Nick chuckled.  “Really gentlemen?  That’s what you have?”


“Do gooders.”  One of the men said “Didn’t know we still had those.”


“Yeah, this ain’t none of ya’lls business, you know?”  The other one added “It ain’t nothin but a TV.”


“Don’t care about the television.”  Bob added “You pushed a woman.”


“So?”  One of the men asked “Still ain’t none of your business.  Not mindin your own business can get you hurt sometimes.”


“And here I was hoping we could come to an understanding.”  Bob said.


The two men looked at each other, lost.  “So, you do want the TV?”  One of them finally asked.


“This TV?”  Bob gestured and the men nodded in unison.  “I don’t want THIS TV.  This TV doesn’t work at all.” 


“What you sayin?”  One of the greasers wondered.  “This TV still in the box like new.”


“Got a big hole in it.”  Bob said.


“Huh?  No it don’t”.  The man countered.


“Does now.”  Bob answered.  In a quick, smooth movement he reached under his suit jacket, pulled the pistol from its holster and shot the television dead center.  Shreds of cardboard from the box filled the air with confetti and the two men dropped their weapons.