THE CASE OF THE MISSING BALLERINA. riginal.
The name's Dream, Mike Dream. Private investigator. I work outa Dreamsville. It's just above Nightmare Place. Somewhere north of sleepless nights. Smoke-filled hazy days. Someone once said to me "relax Mike, roll back those hazy lazy daze of summer."
As the only P.I. on call 24/7 in Dreamsville U.S.A. I didn't have time to roll anything hazy or lazy. Maybe the occasional salad relish roll but I didn't relish relish. I had to be alert. I lit another cig, they were killing me but I had to stay awake. Last time I fell asleep the butt burnt my butt.But that's another story but.Butter to keep it to myself.
My small cramped office has a cramped view. One wall door. One window which looks into the hallway. Major problem. Window had been put where the door should be,door hung where the window should be. Dyslexic carpenter. My dreamy clients knocked on the window and dreamed in.No problems. It was when they opened the door and stepped out that my business suffered a downturn. My office was on the third floor.I rang EL Carpenter from EL solve a door. 'ELL of a time getting him back. He resolved,solved the problem. EL ripped out the door-put in a revolving door. My clients became swingers. Evolving through the window. Exiting through the revolving door without getting involved with the pavement below-'touch wood'.
Dreamsville, a crowded bustling place.Million of dreams built this bustling dreamy city.Work was a tedious maddening place miles away.I was the dream gatekeeper. Ever present nightmares ready to infiltrate those gates. I poured myself a coffee. My secretary popped her head out of the cramped file draw and suggested I pour it into a cup. Hilda was smart. I rinsed out my coffee pants into a paper cup. Hilda dreamt of becoming a ballerina. When she wasn't filing her toe-nails in the file draw she whirled round in the revolving door during her'gown time.' She was a girl in her own'whirl' world.
Since the installation of rev door I hadn't lost a client on my watch. Partially due to the fact that I didn't own a watch.
I lit another cig.I checked the 'safety'on my 'hair trigger' valium gun in its holster under my armpit.Hilda tickled me yesterday, it went off. So did Hilda.Right OFF! She staggered to- and slumped in the revolving door. I checked her pulse,she had been hit with six hollow tipped automatic valium at close range but she was a hardy girl, strong constitution. I rang the doc. He asked me,"is she a dreamer...dancer?" I said "yes." Doc gave a relieved sigh."Then whisper in her ear,"do you want to be a contestant on "so! you think you can Dance?" I did. Before I could stop her Hilda slowly rose up, twittered on her legs and shot off out the revolving door like a modern day Mary Poppins.LOOK! America! if a ballerina floats past whilst you're looking out your office window day-dreaming...let her down gently. I mean we've all got dreams.Otherwise life would be a blasted nightmare wouldn't it?...cheers