The Case of the Friggin' Jimmied Wheel of Death

It ain't often that I get called in to investigate a crime but when the frantic caller was talkin' to Dispatch they mentioned that the scene of the crime was a friggin' Wheel of Death. Marge knew she had to call Gus.

I worked with Marge's old man Kenny over at the Super Valu shipping & receiving facility in Slopkins for almost a whole day so we had become pretty good friends. Kenny and me was like brothers, you know how it is with coworkers, in the 7 long hours I worked with that man, I felt like we'd been soul mates since the first Neanderthal punched his first Wooly Mammoth in the breadbasket so he and all his primitive goombah's could chow down.

I'd first spotted Kenny in the lunchroom, where we both spent about 5 1/2 hours smoking cigarettes and nuking people's leftover coffee. I knew we were kindred spirits when I'd seen him yank an ancient Summer Sausage and Cheese sammich outta the frickin' Wheel of Death. I was about to warn him that it might not be safe but it ain't every day you get to see a grown man quivering on the floor like that perch you caught on Mille Lacs.

But, I was feeling pretty friggin' generous with my love that day so I step forward to tell him the #1 Rule of FWD survival tactics but he beat me to it.

Clipped to his utlility belt and that harness that some warehouse workers wear (what the fuck is that about?) was a friggin' plastic bottle of French's mustard.

So if that ain't a friggin' icebreaker, I don't know what is.

I step up and extend my hand and say "Gus Grimstone, first and last day on the job, how the fuck are yuh?"

He says "Pleasure to meet you, Kenny Brinestone is my name and don't friggin'' wear it out or I'll punch in the friggin' breadbasket."

I sez, Brinestone? Don't tell me ... is yer clan from Lower Brinestonia, cuz if so, so, we may be related. The borders changed a lot due to some shit my Uncles were up to and for a brief period of time, Lower Brinestonia was actually part of Upper Grimstonia. We might be frickin' cousins!!!

Awwww, you don't wanna hear some sentimental horseshit, let's get onto the crime at friggin' hand.

Unfortunafuckingly, Kenny died with his hard hat on one day while eating a 3 year old Chuckwagon. He'd taken a healthy bite and was going to chase it with a squirt out of his French's bottle but the friggin' cupboard was bare. Without the anti-toxin the poor son-of-a-bitch didn't stand a chance against a vintage CW (Chuckwagon for those of you who are not into them cute little fuckin' abbreviations for everything).

So the Black & White picks me up (it was my first time in the front seat, it was kinda cool) and hauls me over to some engineering firm in Downtown Slopkins. I walk around and check the joint out for fingerprints but mostly I'm tryin' to find that one friendly office lady who always brings in candy and doughnuts and never gets pissed off that nobody else ever does.

I find her within a minute I would say, her name is Joyce and she ain't immune to the ol' infamous Grimstone charm because she told me I could use her office while she runs over to Knollwood Mall for the rest of the day. She quick shows me how to do some shit in Microsoft Excel and takes off like a bat out of Hell.

After I finish the last Jelly-filled Bismarck, I decide to smash her computer for no particular reason other than the fact that she was trying to trick me into doing her work.

Some employee, maybe he was the owner, takes me to the lunch room and shows me the jimmied machine.

I sez, "How many sammiches did this Bastard get away with?"

He sez, "Oh, they didn't take any of the food, these guys weren't stupid, they were here strictly for the cash."

"How much cash was in there?"

"I don't know, I tried to do the math but none of my employees will admit that they've ever eaten out of this machine."

I sez,

"Tell yuh what Bub, let me take the rest of the food out of the machine, I'll take it home study it, and bring it back the next time I'm in the vicinity."

He sez,

"What could you possibly learn from taking the food home?"

I sez,

"Trust me."

Next thing you know, I got a cardboard box from one of the engineers (he didn't know I did, it was filled with those friggin' Mini Discs, I nuked 'em all in the microwave so there'd be no evidence) and started stocking up the ol' pantry.

Oh they had it all in this baby. Green Reubens, orange Tuna Salad, grey Salisbury Steak, a friggin' Chuckwagon to die for.

I about had my ass out the door when I saw a glowing image of Kenny next to where they keep the Sporks & shit.

"Forgetting something soul mate?"

Then he threw me a handful of little mustard packs which really freaked me out because I didn't think ghosts could scoop up shit with their hands.

I tip my hardhat and sez ...

"Later KB."

"He sez, back at yuh GG."

I hop in the squad car and sez,

"Take me to the spot where the Fuzz likes to party."

"He popped the Crown Vickie's tranny into D and we headed downtown to the Skyway Lounge.