Chetspeak on Sunday
The guy gave Bernie a close look. “Thought it might be you,” he said.
Bernie gave him a close look back. “Boo Ferris?”
“At your service. Hey, Chet, lookin’ good.”
Boo Ferris! And no longer sporting an orange jumpsuit. What a nice perp! He’d hijacked an eighteen-wheeler loaded with tequila that actually turned out to be prom dresses and he’d tried to make his escape by wearing one. The fun we’d had!
“What the hell are you doing here?” Bernie said.
“It’s a job,” said Boo Ferris.
“A security-type job,” Bernie said, giving Boo Ferris a long look, the meaning of which escaped me.
Boo Ferris leaned closer, lowered his voice. “The company thinks I’m my brother Bo,” he said. “Our socials are just one number different, so I can rattle his off like nobody’s business.”
Bernie smiled. “It’ll be our little secret.”
“Much obliged, Bernie. I always tell the boys I’d rather be busted by you than anybody else.”
“Let’s not test that again,” Bernie said.
– from A Fistful Of Collars.
Welcome new friends Bryce and Bootchie.
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