Cheap Gothic Soap Opera, Part 54

I was sitting in my office. It was a rainy night, like any other in the Little Windy Apple, when suddenly, the door flung open, sending the finely lettered "Tony Spumoni, PI" on the glass into the hallway and back. Me being the nervous type, I had already steadied my gun on the desk when this gorgeous broad walked in. Now, usually I can read a person like a 5 cent comic book, but not this dame, not her.
She had already noticed the gun. "You can put that away," she said boldy, "You won't be needing it."
Intruiged, I put my gun back in the sink and replied, "Well, aren't we the one for witty repartee? Now what services of mine do you require, Private eye or interior designer?" (Times was tight, and a man needed to keep his options open, okay. OKAY?!)
"Um, I need a private eye, like it says on that two piece jim-jam of horseradish you call a door."
"Well, then," I coughed awkwardly, "Have a seat, and we'll get down to business, Ms. - ?"
"Ms. Stewart."
"Yes. Ms. Stewart. Beautiful name that is. Russian, right?"
"No."
"Oh."
"Look, you obviously need my help more than I need yours, so I'll tell you what I need."
"Yes?"
"Jeez! Well, I was the leading lady, the star of a television show called "Cheap Gothic Soap Opera." You've probably heard of it. Anyway, I was living the good life: stars, lights, brighter things-"
"I can imagine."
"-when I was replaced right on my show with someone from off the street. It's a travesty. I've been reduced to wearing only 4 different dodo-skin boas a day, but I still have a considerable amount of money left, and I will pay you handsomely if you find out why I was fired and if you get me back on my show. Here's the address of the executive producer of the show. You can start your investigation with him." And just like that, she was gone, leaving only the note. I looked down at it. I knew where that address was...on the Dark Side of town.

Despite all my doubts and fears about the Dark Side, strangely I found myself driving there without a moment's hesitation, like a turtle who's just been served a bowl of lasagna as god tells him his time has kicked the bucket. The tall, imposing skyscrapers began to enclose me, and soon I knew I had arrived. I gave my note to a secratery in the lobby of the building.
"I'm sorry Sir, but Mr. V. is very busy working on his show. You'll have to come back another time," she said without looking up.
"Could you call him? It's very important."
"Unless you have a note of Mr. V's address, I cannot interrupt him."
"But I just gave you a note."
"I'm sorry Sir, but Mr. V. is very busy working on his show. You'll have to come back another time."
I realized I wasn't getting anywhere, so picked up her phone and began to dial the number.
She stood up rigidly. "I'm sorry Sir, but Mr. V. is very busy working on his show. You'll have to come back another time. ACTIVATING DEATH MODE."
I didn't hear the last part until laser guns began to extend from her fingers. She was a robot, but luckily, I was prepared. "Two ducks walk into a bar. One of them is illogical," I shouted as quickly as I could, and she exploded, not a moment too soon.
I picked up the phone again and dialed Mr. V's number. He picked up quickly. "heavy breathing soundsJenny, what is it?heavy breathing soundsI told you I was busy."
"Jenny's not here. She's been...taken care of."
"heavy breathing soundsDammit, Luke! Is that you?heavy breathing soundsI told you not to bother me at work.heavy breathing sounds."
"Luke's not here either. This is Tony Spumoni, Private Eye. I've got a few questions for you, so why don't you come down to the lobby and answer them for me?"
"heavy breathing soundsheavy breathing soundsNo.heavy breathing sounds" He hung up.
"Dammit," I thought, "Now I have to take the elevator."........

(OP: Nate, May 15 2007)