Post by Countess Grei on Feb 21, 2010 5:13:38 GMT 10
This is a story I thought of one time while listening to Michael Jackson songs.
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The alley way was dark. An even darker figure ran down it. His brown trenchcoat blew around his legs and his pale face was damp with sweat. The bright blue eyes were wide with hurry.
Inside the P. I.'s Office
The man sat in the chair, facing the side window, his suit's jacket slung on a coat rack. His hat was lowered over his dark eyes and his fingertips drummed the desktop.
His door suddenly opened and a man dressed in a brown trenchcoat and a light brown fedora slammed the door shut and pressed his back against it, his hands spread against the walls on the side. The man behind the desk shifted his eyes to see his visitor huffing. The private investigator heaved a heavy sigh and ripped his hat off his head and turned around, scratching his dark gray hair. His hazel-blue eyes saw the other slump over.
"And you are?" he asked.
"I-Iro K-kong," the heaving man said, straightening up. He looked at the sign on the door. "You are Cranky Kong, a P. I., am I correct?"
"Yes. You are correct." Cranky stood and held out his hand. Iro shook it. "What do I owe this visit? Do you have a case for me?"
"Er... No," Iro said, twiddling his fingers. "More of... a favor." Cranky raised his eyebrow.
"May I ask what that is?" Iro gulped then sighed.
"Please... Take me on as your apprentice."
Silence.
"...What?"
"I want to be your apprentice." Cranky blinked.
"Well... Being an apprentice is a hard deal. You gotta follow orders. It's also pretty dangerous." Iro sighed.
"I know but... I've always wanted to be one."
"Just to clarify, you are a boy right?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Well... In these times, you know, only boys are allowed to be a P. I. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
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The alley way was dark. An even darker figure ran down it. His brown trenchcoat blew around his legs and his pale face was damp with sweat. The bright blue eyes were wide with hurry.
Inside the P. I.'s Office
The man sat in the chair, facing the side window, his suit's jacket slung on a coat rack. His hat was lowered over his dark eyes and his fingertips drummed the desktop.
His door suddenly opened and a man dressed in a brown trenchcoat and a light brown fedora slammed the door shut and pressed his back against it, his hands spread against the walls on the side. The man behind the desk shifted his eyes to see his visitor huffing. The private investigator heaved a heavy sigh and ripped his hat off his head and turned around, scratching his dark gray hair. His hazel-blue eyes saw the other slump over.
"And you are?" he asked.
"I-Iro K-kong," the heaving man said, straightening up. He looked at the sign on the door. "You are Cranky Kong, a P. I., am I correct?"
"Yes. You are correct." Cranky stood and held out his hand. Iro shook it. "What do I owe this visit? Do you have a case for me?"
"Er... No," Iro said, twiddling his fingers. "More of... a favor." Cranky raised his eyebrow.
"May I ask what that is?" Iro gulped then sighed.
"Please... Take me on as your apprentice."
Silence.
"...What?"
"I want to be your apprentice." Cranky blinked.
"Well... Being an apprentice is a hard deal. You gotta follow orders. It's also pretty dangerous." Iro sighed.
"I know but... I've always wanted to be one."
"Just to clarify, you are a boy right?"
"Yes. Why?"
"Well... In these times, you know, only boys are allowed to be a P. I. Do you understand?"
"Yes."