Bazooka 16

With much difficulty I accepted the fact a bird beat me to the punch. He sat indignantly on a chair in the corner, clearly seeing me as an insufferable burden. He cawed and I stood up as ordered. Frantically I stumbled forward and slapped my handcuffs on the unconscious criminal. Satisfied, I realized I faced a new conundrum: how to get this man to Ricardo’s shop. As an employee to Ricardo I was never to deal with the police directly, but only through him. But how? I had no means of transportation and there was no way I could carry the man even half the way. Pete cawed again. I examined the chair he perched on and sighed. It had wheels.

With much difficulty I can only hope you have enough imagination to muster the appropriate image I hauled Bulldog off the bed and onto the chair. Gasping for air I fell to the floor clutching my chest. Pete the Bird had long flown the coup. I never quit a job once I’ve started. I only get fired. So with much effort I grabbed hold of the chair’s arm rests and began pulling. Thankfully since Bulldog was confined to a wheelchair most of the time the house had been made handicap friendly, including a ramp from the front door to the driveway.

I can only guess what I looked like pushing such a man down the street. I care to not think back on it. Over a hill and through a few lawns later I wound my way back to Ricardo’s shop just as dusk crept in. Pete was there of course, as was Ricardo. “Pete’s told me everything.” He greeted me when I walked through the door. Side note: Ricardo’s shop door is absurdly narrow, so Bulldog had to wait outside.

“Like a dog.” Officer Buck said excitedly.

“Sure,” I guessed. “If you wanna look at it that way.”

“Poor little Mikey, can’t even handle a dog.” Ricardo said, picking at his nails.

“I brought him in just like you asked.”

“But what happened before?” He questioned knowingly. “How did he get to be in the state he is in?”

I didn’t want to believe some guy with skulls on his walls and herbs hanging from his ceiling could talk to a bird, but who knew? I ran my fingers through my hair, frustrated. “He’s here, isn’t he? Who cares how it happened?”

“I care.” Ricardo said. “I care when it deals with my business and who I do business with.”

“So Pete helped! I thought that’s why you sent him with me in the first place?”

“Meh, he needed the exercise.” He shrugged. “He did the job though, so I guess it’s a new bird cage for him.”

“You ─ you’re giving him the reward?” I stuttered.

“He did the job.”

“But I brought him here!” I argued for at least half the credit. The fact I was arguing my case against a bird is irrelevant and should not be held against me.

“You had one job.” The broker scolded me, massaging his temples. “It was so easy… No. You’re more like the delivery boy. No money for you.”

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