YOU ONLY DEFECT ONCE
~ By Chris Rhatigan
The cop said: "We have enough on you for petty larceny. You tell us about Anthony, we'll take that into consideration."
Otis sipped the shitty coffee. Other than that, he kept his mouth shut.
He got five years for burglary.
The day he was released, Anthony called him. Said he had been convinced Otis would rat him out.
Said he could make it up to him -- job he needed Otis on with a big payoff.
They met and Anthony opened his arms.
"No hard feelings, right bro?"
Otis took a gun from his jacket. Shot him til the gun went click.
© 2011 ~ Author CHRIS RHATIGAN
another DEBUT ~ AT THE BIJOU
Absolutely*Kate: That's another reason I dubbed him Rat-a-tat Rhatigan. Chris can gun 100 words to shoot a gazillion places, and damn -- I really like the guy. Doesn't everyone love Chris?
Absolutely*Kate: Yes, sage Nige?
Nigel Bird: Would you mind
if I took over the show? Seems everyone's getting in the act AT THE BIJOU. Great things you're doing here - I'm really very impressed. I hope you already knew.
Absolutely*Kate: This is why we call it "show-stopping", on our side of the pond, good sir. Do proceed, and thanks. Authors taking Authors the higher is so what it's all about.
Soon as I saw Death By Killing I knew I liked the guy.
Straight and to the point and bigging up short-stories in a way that they deserve with reviews and recommendations to send me all over the web.
So we got to know each other.
Wasn’t long until he was leading me astray into the world of peer-editing over at Crimefic-Writers. He didn’t tell me how he managed to get such a great bunch together, and I don’t need to know.
Next he took over working at All Due Respect. It’s a perfect home.
Pulp Ink kind of evolved. I suspect neither Chris nor I had the confidence to go it alone, so we did it together. The man’s incredible. Yes, indeed.
He was like a surfer, gliding over the tops of difficulties that arose and keeping a cool, level head when the storm-clouds grew. If I were in the trenches of some crazy war, I’d ask him to come along and take my side.
The man has eagle eyes. Can spot a mistake from 100 yards. Sees an error in point of view from a mile off.
He’s got a super sense of smell. Could sniff out an unnecessary line or word in a French cheese-maker’s.
There’s a brain in the man the size of the Mekon’s, only it’s squashed in to allow him to keep his good looks.
By rights, with a brain like that, there shouldn’t be any room for any other vital organs, but you should see what he’s got under the hood. A heart the size of a buffalo for starters.
It’s like that ‘When God was giving out...’ unfairnessness that happens.
Worse, he combines the two to produce some of the finest writing you’ll come across – unfair from a man of such tender years – and he can put something down to fit any genre you ask him about.
Absolutely*Kate: That I know Nigel.
I asked for NOIR and he slip'slid this gem
quick as a gunner on a spree under my door in the night.
No witnesses, all tough guy star quality. But Chris, has heart, right? Everybody loves Rat-a-tat Rhatigan.
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Better yet ~ BUY THE BOOK!
Apart from romance. That he leaves for real life. He got married in the summer, a low key bond of love (and still managed to get Pulp Ink out on time!).
Talking of love, I do love the guy. He’s a model to follow, yet they broke the mould (damn the mould-carriers).
It’s not long until he finishes his studies. Joins my own noble profession of teaching. Maybe he’ll disappear for a while with his good wife, Thailand maybe, or Vietnam. Do a bit of educating there.
One thing I know. If Chris Rhatigan were teaching my kids, I’d be doing cartwheels and jumping-jacks.
Rat-a-tat, Rat-a-tat. The Fred Astaire of the keyboard. Listen:
I heard it Nigel.
I heard it Kate, absolutely.
I'm still listening Chris.
Best BIJOU regards.