Ha ha! Dick Tracy cannot be taken down by a roulette wheel, not when he has a chip pusher that looks suspiciously like a putter within his reach. Oh Jack, you're heading for a bruising (especially since it looks like that roulette wheel is shrinking) and Tracy is just looking for an excuse to beat someone senseless. After all, this has been a rough couple of cases for everyone's favorite gumshoe. First, he forgets to fill out the paperwork for that perfume fiasco, which wasn't exactly an official case, and now he's taken on another not-really-official assignment that he might or might not be paid for, so he might be looking to take a little something for his trouble out of you just in case. But before we can get to any of that, we of course have to flash back to the plight of Gravel Gertie, trapped in her basement with the notorious criminal mastermind, Ace.
Oh Ace, just let it go. Tend to your goons and get out of there. Dead goons are of use to no one, and training a new batch is just so time consuming. (Plus there's all of that paperwork and those fees and that mandatory meeting with the representative from the Henchmen's Guild where you have to explain why you need more goons and what happened to the old ones. It's just such a hassle, and you don't need that right now.) My advice is that you forget all about the money and get your goons to whatever crime doctor is listed on your organization's health plan. I mean, you've got everything else, and I'm sure that there was more than one one thousand dollar bill bag (and besides you could be wrong. You might already have that bag. I mean, how can you tell? Is it the serifs on the dollar sign?). Besides, B.O.'s come with the cavalry (or at least one member of the cavalry but I'm assuming that the others are with them), and while you may be able to manhandle an old lady, I don't think that you can do the same to a gang of notorious, possibly magical, bikers.
See, I told you that you should have just let her keep that bag. I mean, come on, Ace (or, at least the guy that I've decided to call Ace until I'm told differently), I'm sure that you've got a lot of money coming in from your other perfectly-legal-in-no-way-centers-of-illicit-or-illegal-activity-establishments that you could let one measly bag of one thousand dollar bills go. (Or is it that you don't want to let them go because they're rare and you just like looking at Grover Cleveland. He is pretty special, isn't he, what with those two non-consecutive terms in office and all, but which is more important, money with pictures of the 22nd and 24th President Of The United States of it, or avoiding what it is probably at least one life sentence in the roughest prison Tracyville has to offer?) Oh, and I think that you should have probably thought twice about putting your hand in that bag. After all, she had bear traps. You should have at least expected a mouse trap. I would have, but that's just me.
Ha ha! Dick Tracy cannot be taken down by a roulette wheel, not when he has a chip pusher that looks suspiciously like a putter within his reach. Oh Jack, you're heading for a bruising (especially since it looks like that roulette wheel is shrinking) and Tracy is just looking for an excuse to beat someone senseless. After all, this has been a rough couple of cases for everyone's favorite gumshoe. First, he forgets to fill out the paperwork for that perfume fiasco, which wasn't exactly an official case, and now he's taken on another not-really-official assignment that he might or might not be paid for, so he might be looking to take a little something for his trouble out of you just in case. But before we can get to any of that, we of course have to flash back to the plight of Gravel Gertie, trapped in her basement with the notorious criminal mastermind, Ace.
Oh Ace, just let it go. Tend to your goons and get out of there. Dead goons are of use to no one, and training a new batch is just so time consuming. (Plus there's all of that paperwork and those fees and that mandatory meeting with the representative from the Henchmen's Guild where you have to explain why you need more goons and what happened to the old ones. It's just such a hassle, and you don't need that right now.) My advice is that you forget all about the money and get your goons to whatever crime doctor is listed on your organization's health plan. I mean, you've got everything else, and I'm sure that there was more than one one thousand dollar bill bag (and besides you could be wrong. You might already have that bag. I mean, how can you tell? Is it the serifs on the dollar sign?). Besides, B.O.'s come with the cavalry (or at least one member of the cavalry but I'm assuming that the others are with them), and while you may be able to manhandle an old lady, I don't think that you can do the same to a gang of notorious, possibly magical, bikers.
See, I told you that you should have just let her keep that bag. I mean, come on, Ace (or, at least the guy that I've decided to call Ace until I'm told differently), I'm sure that you've got a lot of money coming in from your other perfectly-legal-in-no-way-centers-of-illicit-or-illegal-activity-establishments that you could let one measly bag of one thousand dollar bills go. (Or is it that you don't want to let them go because they're rare and you just like looking at Grover Cleveland. He is pretty special, isn't he, what with those two non-consecutive terms in office and all, but which is more important, money with pictures of the 22nd and 24th President Of The United States of it, or avoiding what it is probably at least one life sentence in the roughest prison Tracyville has to offer?) Oh, and I think that you should have probably thought twice about putting your hand in that bag. After all, she had bear traps. You should have at least expected a mouse trap. I would have, but that's just me.
No comments:
Post a Comment