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Rated: E · Fiction · Mystery · #2146821
Dick Casey as a kid. A 16 sentence story for the Writer's Cramp. Happy Birthday, Crampy!
Detective Casey pulled out his mother's suitcase and stepped on top of it; he was on the case. Daddy's shoes had been glaumed and he couldn't pick up their order of pizza until they were back on his dogs.

Casey hopped off the suitcase and headed toward the Big House to put the screws on Lil' Stinky.

"You've got 'guilty' written all over your face, toots!" Casey scowled, staring up into Lil' Stinky's cherubic face.

"You ain't got nothin' on me, flatfoot! How could I be your jasper when I been doin' hard time-out behind these bars?" Lil' Stinky babbled.

"You could be working with an accomplice," Casey sneered. "Where has Bruno been hanging his hat these days, anyway?"

Lil' Stinky wiped away a string of drool and hitched up her saggy diaper, "If you're gonna give me the third then I demand to jaw with my lip first."

Casey chuckled and pointed out the window to the backyard, "No need for a lawyer, doll face, I got what I came for."

"Paws in the air!" Casey yelled as he ran outside. Aiming an orange water gun, Casey sent a squirt into Bruno's face. The mutt abandoned his attempt to bury the evidence, tucked his tail between his legs, and ran into the doghouse.

Casey handed the muddy shoes to his dad and held out a hand, "Now about my payment...?"

Dad handed him two bits and Casey tossed it into the open suitcase before snapping it shut.

"Case closed!"

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