Relay-Version: version B 2.10 5/3/83; site utzoo.UUCP Posting-Version: version B 2.10 beta 3/9/83; site qantel.UUCP Path: utzoo!watmath!clyde!burl!mgnetp!ihnp4!zehntel!dual!qantel!israel From: israel@qantel.UUCP ( Renegade) Newsgroups: net.jokes Subject: True Grit Mysteries - Part 3 Message-ID: <166@qantel.UUCP> Date: Thu, 2-Aug-84 12:48:10 EDT Article-I.D.: qantel.166 Posted: Thu Aug 2 12:48:10 1984 Date-Received: Sat, 4-Aug-84 02:09:47 EDT Organization: MDS Qantel, Hayward CA. Lines: 48 < "But that trick never works..." > TALES OF ROGER GUTS, P.I. Hamsters! Why did it have to be hamsters? Images came rushing back to me, images of Vietnam. I was a trained team specialist out of the dead pets division. The Pentagon had done a study of the morale-boosting effects of having pets or mascots in a war zone, and decided the Viet Cong must be kept from having any, so I was assigned to a special division earmarked specifically for terminating enemy pets. My mission - firebombing hamster cages. It wasn't pretty. I can still remember their pathetic little faces staring up at me, as I let fly my incendiary grenades. I could still hear their horrified squeaks, as they stupidly sprang to their treadmills in an effort to escape. Sometimes I couldn't stand anymore, so I would throw them tiny little hamster daggers with which they could commit hammi-kari. But this was years ago and miles away, and now I was faced with my old enemy again. My guess was I was probably dealing with refugees smuggled back to the states, or in other words, boat hamsters. Some slick operator offered them jobs in a crime syndicate, and with nowhere else to go, they eagerly accepted. So now I had two angles to crack this case from - who wanted Ramona dead, and who around here was trafficking in illegal hamsters? There was little doubt in my mind that one inevitably led to the other, so I decided to follow through on the hamster angle. The next morning, as I stepped into my office, I found I had company. Ramona was leaning back in my chair, throwing daggers at one of my old jock-straps. Three bulls-eye's in a row. She was so incredibly good! "It really is hard to find good help these days, and with the way you keep beating up my servants, it's getting harder all the time. If you need information, please come to me." I smirked. "Sure Ramona. I wasn't sure you really wanted it that way, but that's OK by me. You ever had any lovers from Vietnam?", I queried, as I jabbed her in the gut. "That's none of your bloody business!", she parried, with a jab to my jaw. "There may be a connection.", I retorted, with a kick to her ribs. "Then find it without me, I've got nothing to say", she insisted, as she whirled around, and flipped me into the water cooler. "I'll call you tonight. I want some results. I'm tired of being the defenseless maiden in peril!" With that, she grabbed her bullet proof fur coat, and strolled out the office door. Damn, she's fantastic! TO BE CONTINUED...