THE PRINTS AND THE POPPER ~ ~ Epic*sode 19 ~ "LA DOLCE VITA" ~ By Absolutely*Kate and Harry B. Sanderford of Harbinger*33

                                      

Curiouser & Curiouser

* MURDER *

* MYSTERY *

* MATINEE *

  

"THE PRINTS

 AND 

THE POPPER"

FROM WHERE

  WE LEFT OFF

 IN OUR LAST CLIFFHANGER

*AT THE BIJOU*

 

CATCHING UP ON CLIFFHANGERS?

Mosey through Epic*sode Clicks:

    

Epic'sode 18 ~ Bite Better than Bark?

Epic'sode 17 ~ Cassidy & Sundance

Epic'sode Sweet 16 ~ The Great Escape

Epic'sode 15 ~ A Wise Ass

Epic'sode 14 ~ A Wrinkle in Time

Epic'sode 13 ~ Lucky For You?

Epic'sode 12 ~ Midnight Cowboy

Epic'sode 11 ~ The Shadow Knows

Epic'sode 10 ~ The Pissing Match

 Epic'sode 9 ~ Chain, Chain, Chain 
Epic'sode 8 ~ Too Cool!

Epic'sode 7 ~ Meet Virginia
Epic'sode 6 ~ I See the Light

Epic'sode 5 ~ Lucky Shot
Epic'sode 4 ~ Hi Jinks

Epic'sode 3 ~ Groping Against Grope
Epic'sode 2 ~ The Clot Thickens
   and the original mystery of it all ~  Epic'sode 1 ~

 THE PRINTS AND THE POPPER

 

~ ~ EPIC*SODE 19 ~ ~

"LA DOLCE VITA"

~ By Absolutely*Kate

and  

Harry B. Sanderford

"Hello? I'd like to speak to the marketing director of Odell's. Yes, I'll hold." Fingers strummed doubletime across finely penned copious notes, attuned to Tony's croon across the room -- "I left my heart in San Francisco". Focus, focus --

WRITE IT DOWN - StarbucksGuy pic

"Hello? Yes, this is reporter Penelope Payne of THE HAZLETON HOLLER and sundry wire service feeds. I'm wondering if you'll go on the record as to why the thriving theatre, AT THE BIJOU, very recently switched all of their popcorn concessions to your firm?"

"We've been helping theatres and concessionaires pop it and top it right for over 45 years. Before that, we popped and topped popcorn in our own chain of theatres. And for as long as we can remember, the Odell's family has been a family of popcorn connoisseurs. Popcorn is our passion and we are proud to make the products that make the best tasting popcorn possible. Ms Payne, that's true. And it's a big order, let me tell you!"

POPPIN' GOOD!  - pic by bulldog 1

"Well that's all fine and poppin' good for you, but can you tell me in your learned opinion in the concession industry if this is a commonplace occurence?"

"Odell's is the foremost supplier of quality popcorn popping oil and topping products to leading theatres, stadiums, arenas and concessionaires throughout North America. We use only the finest ingredients in each of our popping and topping products. At Odell's, we never compromise quality at the risk of creating a less than perfect popcorn experience."

Dryly, "I take it you're the PR go-to gal for Odell's as well?"

Embarrassed laugh. "I do get kind of carried away, and yes. It's all since the merger. Actually, to use our favorite phrase around the water cooler, the kernel of truth is that this is a bit out of the ordinary. It takes years to build a successful concessionaire's relationship. This is the stuff hot tasty loyalty is made of."

"Wait - Merger?" Penny picked up her Bic, quick. The scribe's inklings surged a'scribbling. Large red loops laced specific sections of her careful copious research notes. Patterns were beginning to form in ways the patent Payne prided prowess didn't potentially see portending.

"Why yes. It's corporate news sweet as kettle corn it is. Gabardine Unlimited International Liaison Enterprises godfathered into our parent company. Why we got raises faster than a consumer can say 'Jiffy Pop' and -- "

Payne stared down at the megaglomerate's corporate name just scrawled fast and free onto the yellow legal pad prominent on her inordinately neat desk. Penny wasn't pleased when things were out of place. Like the way Paul Caracas challenged her skepticism. Focus, focus! The red letters G. U. I. L. E. popped right out, like -- well, you know.

Masking the frisson of excitement an expose can run away with until tediously nurtured to front-page fruition, Penelope cleared her throat and calmly cut in, "Congratulations are in order of course. Who contacted your firm to begin this hot buttery partnership?"

Computer clicks were heard. "Just a moment Ms Payne. Yes, I have it here."

Payne held her breath.

"A Mr Chester Hanks."

The glisten of a recent Red's the Rage manicure lifted a sheet of canary yellow. Penny circled her usual suspect near the bottom right hand corner of the second page.

"But this is odd -- "

Payne paused. It was the tone. It's always the tone at the other end of the line. "Odd?"

"There's a notation by our sales manager that all communications are to go to another gentleman AT THE BIJOU head office. This is highly irregular. We pride ourselves in popping our business along with just how it started -- "

"That name?"

"It says here ONLY a Mr Harry Shanahan should be the recipient of all company newsletters, e-mail, calls, invitations to popping conventions and general correspondence."

"Well that's interesting, Ms -- "

"Eiffel. Janet Eiffel."

"Like the tower?"

"I'm tall. It works. Any other questions Ms Payne? I hope we've satisfied your inquiry and can put you on the mailing list for client Christmas corn o'the month celebration mailings. The only thing we are more passionate about than our products is our customers. Whether you need an innovative product developed or a shipment rushed to a referred distributor, our service is unmatched! Our goal is to achieve 100% customer satisfaction with all of our products and our service. "

"Uh, I'll get back to you on that Janet. I am curious though -- real butter, all these years?"

"Odell's introduced our Original Popcorn Butter topping in 1962. Theatres have known it as Anhydrous Butterfat / REAL Butter popcorn topping. Since then we've added a complete line of innovative and quality popcorn popping oils and an economical buttery flavored popcorn topping, Supur-Kist Two. Our products are the most widely used in the concession industry and our customers tell us that they have a better aroma, a richer color and a more delicious flavor than any other product on the market today! If your popcorn isn't wowing your customers then try Odell's quality products. You'll be glad you did!"

Glancing at her Timex, Penelope shook her head, gathered notes into the zipper compartment of her suede briefcase, and opened the bottom right desk drawer. Just for a swift spritz. "Thank you Janet. You're a credit to the popping industry, I'm sure." 

"Looking for the best tasting popcorn popping and topping products for your theatre or concession? You've come to the right place! At Odell's, we know popcorn!"

Eau de Dolce Vita by Christian Dior hit its usual mark behind the scenes of  Penny Payne's wrists, lobes and the secret sensation, just beneath the knee. "Janet, it's been a joy. Best to you in your successes."

"Ms Payne thanks. But there's more -- "

Penny was late. She smiled. It was going to be better now than ever to let Caracas wait. She put a sashay into a strut she hadn't used since feeling frisky back in Frisco. Oh, this was going to be good. 

A refreshing feminine fragrance blending fresh cut flowers with a trace of aromatic woods and vanilla wafted across the room. She turned off both the radio and Ruby Keeler's "Sunny Side of the Street" and smiled, the way she had in Frisco. Scentsual appeal put the blues on parade. Penny Payne left her worries on her doorstep.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~

IT WAS A GOOD ONE - pic by moacirpdsp

“I was already up Sergeant Smartypants. What brings you around?” Chester asked. He’d opened the door only halfway so it would not be confused with an invitation inside. Stine saw his invitation over Chester’s shoulder anyway should he decide to use it, in the form of the bong standing General over the army of dead soldiers strewn over the coffee table. “Need to ask you a couple questions about your replacement AT THE BIJOU, Sparky Denton.”

“I ain’t sure I can hep ya there chief. I don’t rightly know the boy. So if that’s all then . . .” Chester figured it was worth a try but he wasn’t exactly surprised to see Dan Stine’s brogan step in before he could get the door closed. “Something else officer?”

DING DONG - BONG! - protokol pic

“I know it’s early.” Crack of noon, Stine thought and rotated his head side to side working out a kink in his neck. “So let’s try again. It looks like you had a little party here last night. Maybe if you can’t think of anything pertinent to my investigation into the murder of your replacement, one Sparky Denton, you’d prefer to tell me about the bong I saw on your coffee table.”

“Well the short answer there officer, is that is not mine.” This was true but Chester knew it made no difference to the detective. Chester had a hard and fast rule about cooperating with revenuers. He didn’t. He knew he was going to have to give this one something though. Because for the life of him, he could not recall where the owner of that bong, one Eugene Gabardine had gotten to and he did not want Dan Stine helping him figure it out. “You know, now that I’ve had a moment to study on it, I do ‘member that Sparky feller was referred to me by another feller workin’ off his debt to society over in Alice.”

“Do tell,” Stine said pushing the door open a little wider and stepping back from the threshold.

“Feller named Dudley, Malcom Dudley I think. Ever’one jes calls him Malc-Dud. Get it?” Chester smiled his I’m on your side here podnah, smile hoping that would be enough.

“Go on.” Stine prodded.

“I don’t know if it’s true, but word is Malc-Dud walked from a murder two wrap with time served and 120 hours of commie service.”

“So what’s his connection with Sparky Denton and why did he want him working AT THE BIJOU?” Stine circled Malcom Dudley, Malc-Dud on his note pad.

Chester knew Malc-Dud had been setting him up all along now. Apparently Sparky had accidentally taken his fall. He intended to settle that score himself but he didn’t mind if the cavalry helped a little bit. “Boss Gabardine provided Malc-Dud’s defense,” he answered.

"Open a window Hook," Stine said flipping his pad closed indicating they were done.

 ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

Leon and Eddie pulled up just as Stine was leaving Chester’s porch and Stine filled them in. “Sounds like we need to find out just who this Malc-Dud was accused of killing,” Leon said.

“That’s right. If you two don’t mind looking into that, I’ll go see Harry Shanahan.” Daniel said just as Eddie’s iPhone rang.

“Speak of the Devil,” Eddie said and shined the display in Leon and Daniel’s direction:  Incoming: Harry Shanahan

* C * L * I * F * F * H * A * N * G * E * R * S * !

* AT THE BIJOU * 

Mosey on over to next Sunday's Matinee

for the next gut-gripping epic'sode!

" The Prints and The Popper "

(c) 2010 ~ Dashing Duet Authors

Absolutely*Kate and Harry B. Sanderford

ACCLAIMER (vs Disclaimer) ~ There was no need to conjure up a surreal firm that served the industry in poppin' up the best popcorn. ODELL'S is the real deal, a scrumptious family firm. Seriously folks ~ The promotional pitch is indeed all it's popped up to be!

CRACKLE ~ By Zelda Martin of Harbinger*33

* CRACKLE *

By ~ Zelda Martin

I met him on the stairs.  I was going down into the basement, as he was coming up.  The stairs were narrow. We stopped, at an impasse.  His head was level with my hips.  He looked at my crotch before he looked at my face.  I tried to say "Hi, Danny," but my voice was stuck in his eyes.  Smokey green eyes, they were, topped with dark brown hair, surrounded with smooth olive skin.  He reached out his hands, put one on each of my hips.  An electric charge crackled across my groin. "Don't, Danny," I think I said, or maybe thought I should have said.  But he did, and I did, and we did, and we did again.  And then I heard someone else on the stairs, and I was almost sorry I had ever come down those stairs, or at least thought I should have been sorry.

Turns out I was sorry that I wrote the above paragraph, because Stanley came into the room while I was typing it, and asked to read my story.

"Who's Danny?" he asked testily.

"Oh, no one.  I just made him up.  This is just a fantasy.

"Really?"

"Really!"

"Okay."

He shuffled off to the kitchen; I could hear him making popcorn.  He eats it without butter or salt.  That's just one of the differences between him and me.  He likes his popcorn and his life plain, unadorned, unflavored.  And I like mine with lots of butter and salt, and sugar and honey, dripping with hot, juicy, melting, sticky stuff, at least I think I do, or would if I could, I think, but I don't actually know, because, so far, the condiments have been in depressingly short supply.

Danny could have flavored my life very nicely if I had let him.  But I didn't, couldn't, wouldn't, because I was married, but I wanted to, oh so badly.  He wasn't a fantasy.  He was a real, live, hard-muscled, flat-bellied Adonis who had worked with me in the factory, a long time ago.  Those green eyes of his were like warm probes, sliding over my body like butter melting on a hot skillet.  Everything in that paragraph was true, right up to the electric surge part, anyway, but at that point, what really happened was that I grabbed my voice and used it to say, "Excuse me," and turned to let him pass me...

...And when he did, he pressed against me, slid his hard chest across my breasts, and then reached behind me and slowly ran his hands down my butt and gently squeezed my thighs...

Damn.  There I go again.  Another variation of the story with one beginning and a thousand endings.  Oh well.  Maybe it's better this way.  I never get tired of him, nor he of me.  Neither of us gets old and fat.  He'll always have a flat belly and a stiff cock. 

The smell of popcorn fills the air.  Geez.  It even smells dry with no butter.

theatre lighting ala Max Wo

SHE ZINGS, SHE ZOWS, SHE'S EVERYBODY'S SLICK CATS' MEOWS ~  AT THE BIJOU . . . We're so happily hepped up she comes to grace our place and make it likewise her own show biz home away from home. But style most inclusive, our gal Zelda's not reclusive. She tries to claim from the roam of her blogging home that she's going to continue to shoot blurbs into the ether and see if anyone responds; calling those chances probably slightly better than sending a message in a bottle out to sea. Well, messages in bottles are known to hit true grit on shore and at Zelda's "GET YOUR Z's" . . . you sure can too.   

 AT THE BIJOU is much more than a lucky roll of any gentlemen's dice that Zelda, Madame Z, can waltz in the writing room and cause a real sensation.  . . . 'cause they all keep comin' back for more!

Thanks Madame Z oh Zelda

You bring the zing to just about everything!

Absolutely*Kate

and our fine staff of renown,

AT THE BIJOU

THE PRINTS AND THE POPPER ~ By Absolutely*Kate and Harry B. Sanderford of Harbinger*33

THE PRINTS
AND

THE POPPER

BY
~ Absolutely*Kate

AND 
Harry B. Sanderford

with Matt Magda plot turns

By all appearances, Eddie led a quiet life. He attended Mathews High School where he was junior class treasurer. He dated Mary Lou Jennings and had a special spot to park his car at McDonald's when the gang went out for quarter-pounders, fries and chocolate shakes after basketball games. He liked how it angled them into the shadows where Mary Lou's hand lingered in his. He worked after school on Tuesdays, Thursdays and weekend matinees AT THE BIJOU. Like I said, by all appearances, Eddie led a quiet typical teenage life.

Eddie was excited about going to work on this particular Tuesday because just yesterday his Super Spy Private Eye Finger-Printing Kit had finally arrived in the mail. He’d ordered it from the back of his Super Spy Private Eye magazine and he aimed to put it right to use. Chief among his duties AT THE BIJOU were: popping the popcorn, making sure the butter flavoring and nacho cheese dispensers were topped off, and that the napkin dispensers were never empty. Folks' fingers get good and greasy grubbing on a BIJOU Double-Feature Bucket.

On this particular Tuesday, fate was twisting a churn into Eddie's good news day. He'd hurried through the poppin' and had it all fluffy light and flyin' high the way Ms Kate had explained Ms Carrie favoured it. And God and the local Phantom knows Ms Carrie was the biggest popcorn clutching customer AT THE BIJOU ever did see. He liked her. She always tipped him an extra buck, leaned in and shared him somethin' scary about how she knew what she knew and then whispered, "Listen Popper, don't tell our Ms Kate I told you that. She likes a world where bad guys don't kill everyone off." How he laughed at that. Ms Carrie sure knew Ms Kate alright. So with a grin on his face and his duties easily covered all over the place, Eddie slid comfortably into the seat in the back red velvet row he favoured when bringin' Mary Lou around. More smoochability, y'know. 

With an anticipatory sigh, Eddie slid this month's issue of  Super Spy Private Eye from his hip pocket, smoothing it flat. Ms Kate said he could do what he wanted 'round the BIJOU when what he had to take care of was taken care of,  just so long as he kept a watchful eye on things. She trusted him that way, and guldurn if he'd ever let her down. Now though, he wanted to go over the directions one more time on how to shake and spread powder from his Super Private Eye Finger-Printing Kit, tucked safe on the top shelf back in his locker in the staff room. The handy-dandy silver magnifying glass, in his other Wrangler pocket was waiting steady for Eddy to finally use it, and boy oh boy was he itchin' to do just that. Impress Mary Lou too with his deducing ways to figure a situation out.

While he was hunched over page 33, he could tell without much deducing powers at all that Ms Jeanette was waltzin' in to the theatre. Eddie tipped his touseled mop of hair along with the appreciative twinkle young man eyes shall ever hold for a real lady's graceful glide. Hers was always to the 9th row where she enjoyed all the action of reviewing every show, telling whomever would listen that life was like innings and you had to let the full game play out to really know the score. Eddie figured Ms Jeanette always knew the score. And like most others, he was fond of her caring ways.

"How are you keeping your grades up Eddie? Mary Lou treating you nice and sweet?" 

He gave her usual quick wink a smug smile and a thumbs-up, remembering that thing his Mom said when sprayin' on perfume before a big dinner date with Dad. Even bein' a mom, she still knew how to let her eyelashes do their business and would say real soft when Dad came up behind her, "My Windsong will stay on your mind." Wonder if that's what Ms Jeanette had squirted all over herself. He could always tell when she was shifting seats, turning in her greets to other regulars AT THE BIJOU. It was a real pretty smell that went swell with how she laughed. All the other BIJOU folk liked that too.

THE SCREAM CUT THROUGH ALL HIS CAREFUL CONCENTRATION ~ more high-pitched than any movie sound could move around the surround-sound system that Mr Harry had set up to make folks' listening pleasure all the more jumpier. Mr Harry was like that too ~ always tryin' somethin' new out. Boy oh boy, man oh man, Eddie sure wished Mr Har was jawin' jokes in the staff room today, 'cause he woulda liked another sturdy feller handy to investigate the blood curdle of that freakin' sound. Yikes! Ms Jeanette was down front. He'd better jump into action and check things out!

The scream came from behind him so Eddie told Ms Jeanette to sit tight and sprinted  up the aisle for the lobby.  Bursting through the double doors he found Sugar scooping Milk Duds back into the box from the counter where they’d spilled.  “Are you alright Ms Sugar?”,  Eddie asked hoping to appear calm, something he never found easy to do around Ms Sugar. 

“Other than scattering a brand new box of my favorite candy all over I’m fine. What the heck was that?  Just about scared the pants right off me!”  The image this conjured was not helping Eddie with his outward calm.

"Well if it wasn't you, and it wasn't Jeanette..." the boy detective thought out loud.

“Are you alright is maybe a better question? Why you look like you’ve seen a ghost,”  Sugar was teasing but it hit them both at the same time. 

“The phantom of THE BIJOU!”  They aha-ed in unison.

Eddie bolted for the projection booth stairs. Sugar vaulted the candy counter and followed close behind. Eddie covered the red carpet two stairs at a time but Sugar was no slouch; he could feel her pretty close on his Nikes. Their gasp was collective. The greasy grisly scene on the floor  before them floored them. A body sprawled face down. A tub of buttery BIJOU popcorn adding spill to sprawl, already on the congeal. Eddie's hand jutting towards the contorted body of what looked like or was the new projectionist was stopped in mid-jut to Sparky Denton's blue denim sleeve by Sugar's  high pitch squeal.

"Don't you DARE touch Sparky, Eddie! Who knows what's happened here?! Call 911, c'mon hurry!"

Eddie whipped out his Droid as sexy Sugar's more motherly side kicked into gear, body-blocking his view, swift-glancing for a discernible clue, steering the boy clear of what appeared to be death by popcorn. The low hum of the projector accompanied the still rolling film, a 1945 rare noir cut of Detour, which Jeanette had requested before the regular crowds rolled in for Tuesday's packed-house Double*Feature. Long'ago heart-throb actor Tom Neal playing nightclub pianist Al Roberts let loose his cynical worldview snipe: "That's life. Whichever way you turn, fate sticks out a foot to trip you."

"Yep, Al, someone sure took a face-smack here", Sugar mumble-quipped back while her mind sizzled in fast-forward mode -- determining the most logical way to proceed, keep Eddie calm and both of them safe.

Eddie's thoughts, now that the dispatcher had assured him help was speeding on its way, were turning over the most logical way to proceed, to keep Ms Sugar calm and both of them safe. He couldn't suppress the grin though when Sugar couldn't suppress her habit to mimic movie stars. In perfect Ann Savage pitch, with hand to hip, she became Vera the hitchhiker: "Life's like a ball game. You gotta take a swing at whatever comes along before you wake up and find it's the ninth inning."

"THE 9th INNING! THE 9th ROW! JEANETTE!!", their thinking and their hepped-up voices aha'd unison once again, before Eddie's magnifier had a chance of a glance to hone in on the suspicious spittle around the sparkless Sparky to confirm his guess that suspicious could be malicious . . . The deducing duo were off on a tear down the stairs once again. Sirens were heard and sounding closer, but their heads and hearts were headed in another direction away from the main doors, back to the theatre. 

Police, fire and paramedics poured through the front doors as Sugar and Eddie hit the bottom stair. Eddie pointed back up to the projection room shouting, “It’s Sparky, he’s up there!”, without breaking his stride. Sugar hit the double doors first and Eddie was through before they could swing shut behind her. In the ninth row Eddie picked up Ms Jeanette’s Mead Square-Deal journal from the seat with her favorite blue Montblanc Starwalker still clipped to the cover. A single drop of indigo fell from the pen and landing squarely on the armrest, mingled with the drops of crimson already there. Ms Jeanette was nowhere to be found.

* C * L * I * F * F * H * A * N * G * E * R * !

* AT THE BIJOU * 

Please return to next Saturday's Matinee

for the next gut-gripping epic'sode!

" The Prints and The Popper "