Part 1 of 1
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Tonight, Mulligan Smith, private investigator, finds himself talking to an old friend while watching the ransacking of a Walmart.
The Skinner Co. Network
FP236 - Mulligan Smith in The Value of History, Part 1 of 1
[music] Welcome to FlashPelp, episode 236. This evening we present Maligan Smith in The Value of History, Part 1 of 1. [music] This week's episodes are brought to you by Jimmy and the Black Wind. [music] In the most unlikeliest of places, I find it here. [music] Jimmy and the Black Wind. Coming soon. Beginning November the 6th, 2011 at newcohen.com. [music] FlashPelp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age. Three to ten minutes of fiction brought to you Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings. Tonight, Maligan Smith, private investigator, finds himself talking to an old friend while watching the ransacking of a Walmart. Maligan Smith in The Value of History, Part 1 of 1. Written by J.R.D. Skinner. Art and narration by Opoponax. An audio produced by Jessica May. [music] Maligan Smith was lost in a sea of cheap jackets and bulky winter coats. Still wearing his greeter smock while Mark Mike was at his side. "Thinkings get wrecked all the time," said Mike. "I knew a guy, Nikki Tyler. Drove a cherry 1966 Jaguar convertible." Tried the thing like it was his fucking grandmother. I once saw him stop halfway down at one way street and reverse out of the thing, because there was a pothole he didn't like the look of at the far corner. Joke was on him, though. The poor broke jerk who was running along behind us managed to put his foot through the tail light before the jag was facing the right way. Across the aisle, an elderly woman in a wide brim hat and a red dress had caught Maligan's attention. Her neck dangled and folds and her eyes twinkled with a stunned joy. As he watched, she stuffed a tiny pink and lace knightie into her large purse. Mike handed the PI a broad sleeve trench, then continued. Anyhow, Nikki had a bail for a bit. It was the '60s, and he was in the mind expanding business. It was taking a little mental vacation one evening and got a whole idea that this guy we used to hang with Tobias had saluced his dog. After a beating, he had to leave town for a while. His gal was pretty pissed about it. A couple of weeks in, she buys $100 with a milk and dumps it all over the interior of the car. I've got a fish and a like being used for that kind of thing, but milk was the worst. A month later, when he got back, I saw the results. The stink had settled in the crevices. It had soaked the floor mats. It even got wicked up under the seats, messing up the upholstery. Smith had rehung the coat and was moving through the cloud of faux leather bomber jackets. His gaze tracked between hangers' selections and the dozen socks the grandmotherly shoplifter was attempting to pilfer. Nikki loves the thing, though, so we get to clean and replace his little leather. He even went so far as to quomes in the interior. They'd wandered fully into the woman's department by then, so the detective could keep a running inventory of the store's losses. And he could clearly see the thief's wrinkled face split with a wide grin as she ransacked a shelf with multi-colored thongs. "Great story," said Smith. "But are you not noticing Grammy Viking over there pillaging your stock?" "Yeah, yeah," muttered his working friend, who then raised his voice, "Hey there, young Peggy. I got my eye on you." The mischievous hunch in the woman's spine suddenly straightened, and her hands pulled her sack of guilt tight to her chest. "Yes, sir," she said, moving quickly towards the changing rooms. Micah unlocked them for her. "I didn't finish," he said to Smith, once he'd completed his duty. Yiddie'd had to title and marry his name, in case something happened. He was as close to a will as he had. As soon as it was cleaned up, though, the guy she'd sold it to came over to pick it up. Good cop, actually, by the name of Millbrook. The bull got a nice price, too, since they were dating at that point. I told Nicky then, and I'll tell you now, sometimes you got no option but to laugh. "Yeah, get it, and you're right," replied Mulligan. "But it was my favorite sweater, you know?" "I mean, who throws bleach?" "Seriously." "I'm glad that meth had got time." The door swung wide, and its occupant moved to depart. Her purse was considerably deflated, and the flat wooden bench did nothing to conceal the heap of abandoned merchandise. "Piggy's been coming in a couple of times a month since a stroke," said Mic. Every now and then she thinks she's 16 again, and this places the local five at a time. The daughter came in to apologize, at the first occasion, and said she was the sweetest man he'd ever meet, a housewife with a loving husband in the grave. I figured some pinching in her youth was probably the most excitement she had, and her brain's just looking for some adventure before the deep sleep. It's easy enough to notice her, and she always dumps the good when she gets a warning. Arrives at home all right, too, when she's had a fun. The girl says it won't be long now, though. The explanation had done little to shift Smith's spirits, but as they trailed the senior to the door, he came to a sudden stop. "Now we're talkin',," he said under his breath. Mulligan lifted a black hoodie from the sales rack. (dramatic music) (dramatic music) FlashPulp is presented by flashpulp.com, and is released under the Canadian Creative Commons attribution non-commercial 2.5 license. Text and audio commentaries can be sent to skinner@skinner.fm, or the voicemail line at 206-338-2792. But be aware that they may appear in a future flashcast. We'd also like to thank the Free Sound Project, found at freesound.org. For a full listing of effects used during the show, as well as credits for the users who provided them, please check this episode's notes at flashpulp.com. And thanks to you for listening. If you enjoyed the show, please tell your friends. (dramatic music) ♪ One day I flew near my hour ♪ ♪ A number left, give it the shadows ♪ ♪ I lived with our number left ♪ (dramatic music) (upbeat music)