Okay I'm distracted, I admit it. I'm out in the street with my neighbours banging on about noise and disruption and God knows what else and I'm only half listening. Look we're not all perfect. We've all got problems and we all make mistakes. You know it, I know it. Sometimes a guy just wants to catch a break every once in a while. Nosey neighbours and high drama isn't big on my to-do list right now. Others have teenagers with tantrums, loud arguments, boundary disputes. Oh no, not me, I have a dead body in the kitchen bleeding out from a lucky gunshot wound to his temple. Lucky for me, not so much for him.
"Well we heard all this shouting," says Brendon the local do-gooder. I don't like him, never have. There's something shifty about his eyes and the way they wander straight to any woman s chest before they ever make t upwards. "Yeah us too, and we heard the gunshot so We rang the police," says May. Brian her bald headed husband just nods in agreement. Christ I don't think I've ever heard the poor guy speak. We have these monthly one hour Neighbourhood Watch meetings round each other's houses to catch up on the latest Intel. Yeah I know, like the suburbs is crime central and we need to know whose cat is missing and how Johnny hurt his little finger on a rusty swing in the local park. May loves Setting the agenda. She's a big organiser. We all have to host them as it's only polite, so I'm told. In them she always takes the Chair. Has the last word. Not that I think Brian has ever said anything to say a last word to...ike ever in his life. I'm betting at their wedding when he said "I do," she even replied, "Really Brian, do ya, I mean have you really truly considered it?" I think after that he just conceded to what Fate had him signed up for and he's rarely said a word since... well certainly not the last word that's for damned sure. I truly believe she's got a 'contact' down in the local police station and she just likes to keep us appraised of her monthly findings. If I were Brian I'd be down that station checking out her so called contact. The way she lights up when she talks of said Informer he's definitely doing something to stoke her fire. She's just so gung-ho all the time. Brian should grow a pair and just for once say 1t, let it out, Scream, "Oh f.f.s. May, s.t.f. up!".
On the word 'police' I swear I jumped and almost pissed myself. I'm so nervous I can feel myself sweating I'm not the kind who does well under pressure, as said bullet-hole in said body demonstrates. I'm the type who'd crumble in a police interrogation. Heck, I'd probably fold as soon as they put the handcuffs on me and duck my head into the car. I always wondered why they did that. Seems awfully polite that you don't want your homicide suspect (whose just committed some triple slasher fest) to get a bump on his head. I never have been good with pressure,l even failed my blood test cause I tainted. "Im sure it was just a car back firing," I say lamely, "it sounded like it to me," (LIE) and I saw it (LIE) driving off." "Did ya see which direction?" asks May taking notes on her clipboard. Yeah, you heard me right, I mean who brings a clipboard to an impromptu gathering of the neighbours at the sound of a supposed gunshot? Normally I wouldn't have joined them but my fear of being absent, and May noting It, was greater than my panic that my new kitchen linoleum is getting the bloodstain test. May's just the type to come knocking on your door to ask why you haven't come out to report in. Yeah, confusing right? I told you, I'm not good under pressure. "They went that way, (LIE)" I said Pointing up the street to where I know if I were a getaway driver I guess I would head. It leads to the minor roads that lead to more minor roads that eventually lead to a main road and onto a highway after about three years! Well that's how it seems. Were a long way from civilisation and there aren't any cams round here. Not that I don't doubt May hasn't petitioned tor some in her efforts on behalf of our Watch.
Now despite my useless nature under pressure you can see I can lie those little white ones with limited case. I mean I'm not a complete loser. So whilst I'm on winning streak I flippantly toss the suggestion in there, "False alarm I guess May (LIE), I guess you'd better ring them back and let them know before they have you down tor wasting police time." I give her my best, "oh I'm so sorry to burst your bubble, conciliatory smile. A weak one, as we all know I'm not her biggest fan. I don't hide it well. Brian just glares at me, but darent say a word, and Brendon do- gooder just looks in the direction of May's perky chest. Which she instantly hides with her clipboard and that draws the heat of Brian's stare away from me and onto Brendon the pervert. Now he wants to leave as much as I do. "Okay," I say throwing my hands up like it's all decided then, "if that's all it was I gotta go, I've a roast in the oven and l don't want it burning (LIE)." Just as I think I'm getting good at this lying thing I'm cut dead. "But John, it's only 7am! A roast, at this hour, really?" says May in her final word bid. Bitch. "Yeah," I say as I turn my back and hurry off, " I like to give it time (obvious LIE but I've no time to think of an excuse...told ya, useless under pressure). Phone them May, you don't want your contact on the force to strike you off his list of helpful citizens." With that I'm out of earshot, but I know she said something in retaliation. Good job I don't know what. If she were the dead body in my kitchen life would in some ways be a whole lot easier.
Now I know you all wanna know why the hell there's a dead body in my kitchen? What am I doing with a gun shot victim bleeding all over my nice new floor? How come I have a gun? Are Brian and May really happily married and will creepy Brendon ever get his vision corrected? I mean, I'm with you on all that, but right now I'm sweating like a pig at a lu'au. I need to calm down, change clothes and work out how to clean this mess up. Btw my name's John Turner and I'm F.B.I. formerly C.I.A. (LIE). That bit about not working well under pressure is actually true (but don't tell the Bureau.) Partly, that's the reason the dead guy has a bullet hole in his head... I was aiming at his shoulder! He had the bread knife, I reacted and he ducked at the last minute to get clipped in the head (LIE). "Well I guess we better get this shit show sorted," I say knowing full well my home is bugged. "Now where to start..
End.
