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A Thrilling Tale of Espionage
(With a Dash of Organized Crime) by
Erik
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Detective Hawthorn was never late. He was quite punctual indeed. In
fact, a recent inquiry into the life of Detective (David) Hawthorn
showed that he had never been late to any meeting, secret meeting,
not-so-secret meeting, semi-secret meeting, or congregation of
sentient beings since he was five and was late to soccer practice,
which he would quickly tell anybody was not his fault. To rectify
the “non-punctual soccer incident” (so detective Hawthorn calls it)
he never again would allow his mother to drive him to any event, but
would walk to any such events so early so that he could be sure he
would be there at least five days before the event began.
These somewhat (yet undiagnosed) obsessive compulsive behaviors make
Detective Hawthorn a prime candidate to be a detective. His
never-ceasing unwillingness to quit has led him to solve any case he
is set to. Unfortunately, one day an adolescent prankster came to
Hawthorn asking for help to find his pet, “a cross between a
goldfish and a dog” that answered to the name “Frank Zappa IV.” Of
course no such half-breed-rock-musician-descendant pet existed and
Hawthorn, unable to solve the case drove himself into a combination
of denial, schizophrenia and (oddly enough) a severe case of
triskaidekaphobia, (Detective Hawthorn has also been known for
phobaphobia (a fear of fears), dromophobia (a fear of crossing
streets), and pogonophobia (a fear of beards)), and has been in a
mental institution a few miles south of Springfield, Illinois for
five years.
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2.2006
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