Part 1 of 1
Read the full text, as well as the show notes, at http://flashpulp.com
Tonight, Mulligan Smith meets friends, both old and new, while seeking reasons for good cheer at a mall.
The Skinner Co. Network
FP230 - Mulligan Smith in Checking It Twice, Part 1 of 1
[♪♪♪] Welcome to FlashPulp, episode 230. This evening, we present Maligan Smith in "Checking It Twice," Part 1 of 1. This week's episodes are brought to you by the Mob. Thanks to all you crazy mixed-up moops for making this a wonderful year, and congratulations on maintaining some shred of sanity, though faced with the imminent destruction of all we hold dear by the flesh-rending spinnerets of Karwick, the Arachnid God. Happy holidays! [♪♪♪] [♪♪♪] [♪♪♪] [♪♪♪] FlashPulp 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 meets friends both old and new, while seeking reasons for good cheer at a mall. Maligan Smith in "Checking It Twice," Part 1 of 1. Written by JRD Skinner. Art and narration by Poponex. Audio produced by Jessica Ming. [♪♪♪] The five-year-old only had one thing on his mind. "Mom," he said, "Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom, Mom." His mother, a red-eyed woman of 30, was deep into a search of the diaper bag she'd latched to the side of her shopping cart. Within the steel buggy, her other offspring, that baby girl, was crying. "Mom," repeated the boy. "Tyson, if you can't be quiet for ten minutes while Mommy gets Anna sorted, will skip McDonald's and head straight home." Frowning, the boy drifted to the railing which overlooked the mall's main set of escalators, and gazed angrily at the Christmas throne below. The seat, nestled amongst a cluster of oversized tree armaments, remained empty, and the sign which read "Back in an Hour" was still in place. "Jerk," said the child. In his focus state, he failed to register the two older men also at the rail. "Yeah, no kidding," replied Mulligan Smith. The PI was sipping at a slurpee and eyeing the same holiday arrangement. Not long previous, the youth had been at the head of a lion waiting for photos with the chair's occupant, but the red-suited man had departed suddenly. His gruff exit had left behind several disappointed children. "Tyson" amongst them. Walmart Mike, having run into Smith while off duty and shopping, cleared his throat. I was a Santa once. I was doing it for a bunch of the guys who hung around the West Side Social Club. I didn't have kids, so I was the one nominated to wear the suit. I didn't mind all the whole, whole, whole shit, really, but afterwards Eddie Cooner asked me if I might walk a Mickey Kimiski's brat home. There's a right in front of a little guy too. Pfft, boy thought I was a little man-clause. So what could I do? Then I am a chance to have Papa Noel escort him home? Full of eggnog as I was, I said yes. Problem is about halfway there, the damn thing just happens. Another crinkle rushes me and grabs my obligation. I go sprinting down the alley after him, but I only get maybe ten feet. And all of a sudden, Jimmy Needles is in front of me. He liked to tell people he was known as Needles for the Switchblade he carried, but it was really cause he'd do anything for a plunge with a horse. Anyhow, he's got a sticker and I can smell his breath. What makes up his rotten innards and chicken balls he must have had for lunch. Then he's on me like a stolen machine. Jab, jab, jab, jab, jab. I can feel myself full of holes. I figure I'm a gun. Over Jimmy's shoulder I can see the impostor hauling off Kimiski's urchin, and I know that, even if the doctor stitched me up, Mickie'll just unzip me again. Then all in a rush I finally managed to pull my 38 from under the huge black belt I was wearing. I pop one in the junkie's belly, and the other claws, who's just about on the far street, turns to see what's happened. I'm thinking I only got seconds till I bleed out, so I go for it, you know? For the kid's sake. I summon all the pissed off I go left, and I cover the distance like an angry father who's caught his daughter's prom date pantsless. You will let that little fucker go, or I will climb down your chimney as you sleep and smother every member of your family. I say, I will peel them apart and fire them to a crisp on your own stove before serving them to you for breakfast. You must have thought I was serious, while I was a good shock cuz you left a little bastard going ran. Helped Jimmy was lying on the pavement behind me screaming, I guess. A short-skirted elf in green was returning to the display below, chased by a fat man in red. The pair were giggling. Mike smirked, then continued. Frankly, it's surprisingly tough to tell how dead you really are. The suit's stuffing is what saved me. As I'm serious, someone is out there sure, but I received worse on dates I'd still call a success. It was cool in the course. I never had a problem with him, but he must have figured he could get mine to miss his cruise into a dog fight, leaving him to scavenge the pieces. Needles made it to a hospital, Eddie Blue Town, now it's fine. It seemed like a Christmas fucking miracle. Years later though, I learned the kid thought I was a real Santa a whole time. Missed him up a bit, but he turned out to be a nice guy. The trio stood silent a while, each along with his own thoughts. Tyson's eyes widened. Wait, is that man not really Santa either? He asked. Smith was discreetly aiming a camera as he replied. Man kid, that's just a normal idiot who's about to be served with divorce papers. The boy beamed. 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. ♪ Sunday has glued me in my hour's off, number nine. Here is the shadows I live with our number nine. (dramatic music) (upbeat music)