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From: israel@qantel.UUCP ( Renegade)
Newsgroups: net.jokes
Subject: True Grit Mysteries - Part 2
Message-ID: <165@qantel.UUCP>
Date: Thu, 2-Aug-84 12:46:12 EDT
Article-I.D.: qantel.165
Posted: Thu Aug  2 12:46:12 1984
Date-Received: Sat, 4-Aug-84 02:09:29 EDT
Organization: MDS Qantel, Hayward CA.
Lines: 46




TALES OF ROGER GUTS, P.I.

   It didn't take me long to find out who I was workin' for. I just tailed
her limo downtown, and while she was in a hardware store ordering a
new toilet, I beat it out of her chauffeur.
   Turned out she was some rich bitch out of Boston named Ramona DeSwell.
Her husband had recently drowned in their bathtub back home, so she
thought coming out to L.A. might help her forget. This family sure
seems to have some serious bathroom problems...
   Anyway, now I had some idea what was what. I ripped off a phone book
from the nearest telephone booth, and tracked down her address. Then I hopped
back into my jeep and drove up her front lawn to the door. I rang the bell.
   This mousey little French maid opened the door. "May I help you, Monsieur?"
   "Yeah, sweet stuff. I came to check out the exploding toilet. Show me the
way, OK?"
   "Just a moment, Monsieur, are you the police?" She was good. However,
I was in a hurry.
   "Look, sister, I don't gotta show you no stinkin' badges!" I gave her
a quick knee to the crotch, and rushed on in. 
   There wasn't much left of the bathroom. The toilet was totaled, the
sink was smashed, the hamper was hampered, and I won't even mentioned
what the shower curtain looked like, cause guys like me never talk about
shower curtains.
   I began my investigation. The first thing I noticed was the toilet
paper, it was soft and delicate, but it was extremely absorbent. Pretty
colors, too. I prefer Brawny paper towels myself.
   Studying the area around the toilet base, I noticed small pieces
golden-brown fur, which trailed off toward a small hole in the wall.
This looked interesting, so I snatched up a sample. There didn't appear
to be any other important clues, so I headed back out.
   The maid was still wimpering on the floor as I walked by. I felt kinda
bad about that, so as I stepped out the door, I shouted back,"Your hair
looks great!" I felt better.
   Had a friend down at the police lab I was blackmailing for touching
himself in the men's room at the station house. I had him analyze the
fur sample. He called me back later that evening.
   "No question about it, Roger. I checked it twice, just to make sure."
   "So what is it?"
   "Hamsters!"
(Insert dramatic backround music)

                        TO BE CONTINUED...