(Oops! Did We Publish That?)
Excerpts
THE MOSES STERN CHRONICLES Vol I
Another Day,Another Adultery
(May 1953)
Moses was not a violent man. He even went so far as to call himself a pacifist. He had never before used his gun as a Private Investigator, but the last case he was on was...it was something else. How was he to know that the guy’s mistress was carrying a gun?
It all went bad when he opened the door to take a picture. Easy money, he thought as he picked the lock. He could hear the sound of Mr. Smith and his whore making love and had no idea what was waiting for him.
As the door swung open he raised his camera and shot a picture. Through the view finder he saw a beautiful woman pointing a gun at him; Beautiful and stark naked.
“Close the door,” she ordered.
Moses swallowed his gum and did as he was told.
“Who the hell are you,” she asked.
“I’m sorry; I must have the wrong room.”
“You bet your ass you do. Now who the hell are you and what do you want?”
Not being accustomed to having beautiful naked women pointing guns at him Moses stuttered, “WWWell...you sssee...wwwould you like to get dressed?”
She smiled and motioned with the gun towards a chair. “Have a seat,” she said.
“Look,” said Moses, “I was looking for a Mr. Jones. I obviously have the wrong room, so if you don’t mind I’ll just leave.” He made a move towards the door.
“Sit down,” she shouted and pulled the hammer back on her gun. It was a snub nose 38 and she looked like she knew how to handle it.
“Sure, sure,” he said as he made for the chair.
Mr. Smith had been lying on the bed with his equipment pointing at the ceiling and hadn’t said a word until now. “Did that cow Bernice send you?” He began to get up and grabbed a towel.
“I told the young lady already, I must have the wrong room. Mr. Jones is a colored man about six foot six and you,” he said, while looking at his nether regions, “are obviously not colored. I’ll just be going.”
“Drop the camera and you can go,” said the lady.
Happy to oblige he stood up and began to take the camera strap from around his neck. As he did his jacket opened just enough to show off the 45 he had holstered underneath. Moses realized that she had spotted the gun by the look in her eye. She took a step forward and told him to freeze. Mr. Smith, not being very bright, walked around the bed and into her line of sight.
It’s now or never, thought Moses. He bolted towards the door and just got it open when the bullet tore through his shoulder. As he fell out onto the sidewalk he pulled his own gun and returned fire.
BLAM BLAM BLAM!!!
Although he thought of himself as a pacifist that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to use a gun. Three shots, three hits. The naked woman was thrown back onto the other double bed in the motel room. Her gun went flying and hit the mirror on the wall.
Seven years bad luck, thought Moses as he blacked out. I HATE DRAGONS!!! Dragons are nothing more than over grown lizards with an ego to match. Sure many of them are highly intelligent and can even fly, but, when you get right down to it, they are nothing more than smelly lizards. Now let me say that I do not think that just because you are a reptile you are smelly. Well maybe I do, but that doesn’t mean I hate all reptiles. My best friend happens to be a Reptant named Garl, but if Garl were ten times his size and had an ego to match I would probably hate him too. Maybe I should just start at the beginning. Garl and I were just out knocking around and, well one thing led to another, and we were now on our way to raid a dragon’s hoard. Sure the Dragon was supposed to be dead, but I try not to take anything fore granted. Besides I know how my luck runs. If it hadn’t been for that dammed Begell, I would never have gotten myself involved in such a ludicrous adventure. Again, maybe I should start at the beginning MY JOB I think there has been some confusion as to what the job of a columnist is. I have decided to take it upon myself to try and give you some insight into this matter. The following is the query letter I sent out to a number, a big number, of papers before I finally got someone to pick me up; If you are looking for a columnist for your publication you can stop now. Who better to be a columnist than I? A columnist must be opinionated, arrogant and above all humble. There is no one more humble than I have done many things in my lifetime that would be an asset to this undertaking: I have been a minister, (columnists often sermonize.) I have raised three children, the youngest is 22, (columnist try to teach or chide.) I have run my own business, (columnists should have a basis for damning the government and the business community.) Above all a columnist should be bitter. (Since I am a jack of all trades and a master of none who could be bitterer than I?) I could write you a weekly column about any topic you choose or you could allow me to ramble on at length about any thing that happens to be annoying me at the time. This would be entirely up to you. I will gladly undertake this for a nominal fee, as I have no previous experience in this field. Of course once I become a huge success we may have to renegotiate. (I told you I was arrogant.) So then, when you have finished reading this letter, you can call or write to tell me when to start. Humbly yours, Dylan Roberts I have been amazed, since I have started writing this column, that people actually think a columnist is some kind of real journalist. People are often upset when a columnist writes about something that they obviously have no real knowledge about, or when a column is nothing more than an attack against a particular person or institution. If you read any columnist long enough you will be able to plainly see all of their own personal loves and hatreds. Of course I am above such pettiness as is obvious to anyone who has consistently read my columns. I hold myself to a higher standard of journalistic truth when I sit down to write. Wait a minute now, I may not be a real journalist, but I can still pretend that what I write has some integrity. Look, a columnist is just an opinionated person who happens to be able to write down his or her own thoughts and to have found an editor who believes that they will be able to upset enough people so that he can sell more papers. The more papers that are sold the better chance he has of sell advertising space in his paper. Again it comes back to money. Cash is King. A columnist who gets lots of people writing letters to the editor about them is considered a success, whether or not any of their columns have had any truth or fact in them. A columnist does not have to be bright or insightful just as long as they get a response. By these standards I have been a failure. I will now vow to be a better columnist by virtue of the fact that I will write about any subject that strikes my fancy, without the benefit of any real study into the subject I decide to write on. I only hope that I can live up to the high standards that have been set by the many columnists who have gone before, and set a new standard for those who may follow. I will do my best to be, opinionated, arrogant and humble. (I believe my bitterness is coming through.) I am sure that I cannot be wrong, for these are the ramblings of a madman.
Preliminary Design
The Ramblings of a Madman
