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Episode 01x14 - Good Guys For Hire

Malex:

A few days later, we received the money, split it, and started spending.

“Okay, we’ve bought food, so theoretically we won’t be starving anymore,” said I. “What now?”

“Dude, do you have to ask?” Icepunk said. “Video games are where it’s at!”

“Of course,” I shook my head. “Well I’m gonna upgrade my computer, my laptop, and my home theater.”

“Upgrade the laptop! Upgrade the laptop!” Linus was chanting.

“Upgrade your home theater?” Icepunk asked. “You don’t have a home theater to upgrade. You have a 13-inch TV.” Icepunk shook his head disparagingly.

I shrugged and started off toward my car. “Whatever,” I said to Icepunk. “You coming?”

As we got in the car, I shook my head sorrowfully at the structural damage it had retained from the incident at the Taco King. I swore to myself yet again that, when I had the money, I’d fix it. For now, however, it was off to the Electronic Depot!

I spent far more money at the ED than I had originally intended, but I came away with loads of crap.

“Quick,” Icepunk exclaimed, “to the video game store!” He started doing some horrible little dance, marching down the sidewalk, waving wads of cash around. The man was asking for it, and I could only pray that someone gave it to him before I was forced to.

Icepunk made quite an entrance at the Game Depot. He made such an entrance - storming in, waving ten grand around - that the owner and manager, who we found out was named ‘Kobb’, personally saw to his every whim.

By the time we left, everyone was on a first name basis with everyone else, and Icepunk had most of the store’s stock. We overcame the minor obstacle of transportation by accepting the manager’s generous offer to pay for a rental truck. “After all,” thought I, “the man only gets customers like Icepunk once in a blue moon. We may as well let him knock himself out.”

After we arrived back at the apartment, and after we put everything away, I began to wonder. “Icepunk,” I said, “this money isn’t going to last long, especially at the rate we’re spending it.”

“So?” he inquired annoyedly, as I had apparently interrupted a round of some bloody game or another. “We don’t need to worry about that until the food is gone.”

“Right,” said I, shaking my head. “Maybe we can avoid spending all of the money in the first place.”

At this bit of news, Icepunk put his controller down and turned to face me - a look of pure awe spreading across his face. “We can keep spending money and keep it from running out too?!”

Icepunk:

Weeping tears of sorrow, I yell, “Why have these burdens been bestowed upon me? Life is so cruel!”

“Dude!” Malex snaps condescendingly. “Working for money is part of the process of living that most of us who call ourselves humans have already come to terms with. You would do well to get over it.”

After resurrecting my tattered dignity from its untimely grave, Malex and I decide to become private investigators. Hooray!

Malex:

Perhaps, looking back, the decision to start a private investigation firm may not have been wise. As a matter of fact, I cannot remember exactly why we decided to do it. One cannot change the past, however, and that is exactly what we decided to do.

Icepunk:

“Hey, you know what this makes us?” I interject while discussing our new business.

“No, what?” Malex asks warily.

“Private dicks!”

“NO!” Malex screams, boxing his own ears. “Don’t you EVER say that again! Nobody will ever know that you said it, or that I heard it! It will be our horrible secret FOREVER!”

One horrific beating later, I dig BB pellets out of my skin and resume preparation for our new jobs.

Malex having left to get us some office space from which to work, I am left coming up with our advertising campaign. “Hey, Linus, how many r’s are there in murder?”

“Oh come on,” he says. “I’m not even from this planet. Don’t tell me I know your language better than you do.”

“Just spell the word, you pathetic excuse for intelligence!”

“Fine. It’s ‘eye’ ‘a’ ‘em’ ‘ess’ ‘tee’ ‘you’ ‘pee’ ‘eye’ ‘dee’.”

“Thanks. What?! HEY! Dude, that’s low, even for you.”

After finishing the sign, I take my sign out onto the street and start advertising. Some potential clients give me dirty looks, while others simply laugh.

After a while, Malex returns and walks up to me.

“This,” Malex says incredulously, “is your advertising campaign?!” He begins reading the sign out loud. “Cat selling drugs to local children? Spouse cheating on you with your sister’s ex-girlfriend’s cousin’s best-friend’s fiance? Been murdered lately? Our private detective service can help you out! Call ‘Good Guys For Hire’ now! 555-W00T”

“Isn’t it great? I thought the phone number was a particularly nice touch.”

“Yes,” he says, shaking his head sadly, “it’s brilliant; especially considering the fact that we don’t have any such number.”

“Ah, yes,” I respond. “I figured that we’d get around it somehow.”

Malex:

After whipping Icepunk’s advertising campaign into shape, we posted fliers all over town, placed ads in papers, and dropped in at the new office.

“Tell me again why we need an office?” Icepunk inquired.

“So that potential clients won’t be frightened away by the clutter,” I replied as we approached the building.

“And they won’t be frightened away by cockroaches?” Icepunk retorted sarcastically.

“Look, it was the cheapest office space available!” I said. “Besides, it’s not half bad!”

I unlocked the door, opened it, and watched as a large piece of the opposite wall fell off.

“Well,” I said encouragingly, “perhaps it will need a bit of work, but I’m sure we can manage.”

“Hey!” called a particularly large cockroach as it strolled in. “You the new tenants?”

“Er, well...” I responded intelligently.

“You wouldn’t mind bringing snacks into work and eating messily would you?” it asked. “As it is, we’ve been eating the drywall, which, as I’m sure you can imagine, is frightfully dry. Anyway, see you around!” The cockroach waved with a few of its less occupied legs, picked up the large chunk of wall, and carried it away.

“I’m bringing a shotgun next time we come,” Icepunk said menacingly.

I rolled my eyes. “Look, I’m sure they won’t do us any harm, and they were here first. Besides,” I looked around warily, “I doubt anything as piddling as a shotgun would do any lasting damage.”

“Napalm, perhaps?”

“Experimentation is definitely in order.”