Puddles and Whiskers, WDB Three Days Ago

Previously.

Three days ago…

As soon as he shuffled through front door looking pathetic and desperate in his disheveled tan wage slave outfit, messy short white hair, and unshaven face Puddles mentally nicknamed him Doctor Dan. No idea why, but nicknames for new people was a habit of hers.

“I need your help to find my daughters,” Doctor Dan mumbled.

“Please, have a seat and tell us more,” Whiskers said gesturing towards his side of their shared desk.

Puddles could not make up her mind what bothered her more his voice, his appearance, or his scent. After listening to him mumble and whine for five minutes, she felt her spine ache with each word. After hearing his story, she understood why Doctor Dan looked disheveled; still have some self-respect, especially when seeking out help. Doctor Dan reeked of desperation, a very sharp tang in the air. Yep, that was what bothered her more.

With a quick shake of her head to snap herself out of her current headspace, Puddles joined the meeting. Doctor Dan was a potential client and her feelings about the client, as Whiskers was fond of saying, was not important…or something like that. Whiskers elbowed Puddles in the ribs. She did her best to look attentive.

“…and where did you say your daughters are?” Whiskers asked.

“With their boyfriends,” Doctor Dan mumbled at Whiskers clean desktop, “somewhere in Tumbledown.”

“What?” Puddles asked a bit too loud; she was losing her patience with him.

“What my associate meant to say, was could you repeat that,” Whiskers coached Doctor Dan.

Puddles let out an exasperated hiss, “Yeah that.”

Doctor Dan looked at both of them, desperation obvious, “Their boyfriends live in Tumbledown. Near the corner of 5th and East Kira. My girls,” his voice caught as he tried to contain his emotions, “left a week ago. I haven’t heard from them. The police…”

“Won’t do a thing,” Puddles interrupted eager to get him out of the office. “Familiar story. Okay, we’ll take your case.”

Doctor Dan blurted out, “You will?”

“Yeah. So let’s talk fees,” Puddles irritation pushing her past his surprise.

Whiskers put a paw on her arm, a sign to slow down or stop.

“Perhaps we should look into his case first,” Whiskers said in his calm, “I know something you don’t” tone that irritated the hell out her. Puddles cocked her right ear at him while flattening the left.

“Fine, we’ll talk bill later,” Puddles hissed at Whiskers.

“But…” Doctor Dan started.

“Yeah, we got this Doc,” Puddles interrupted.

“Some preliminary work and we will have a better idea what we can do for you,” Whiskers said in his business tone, “Is there any additional information you can provide? The more we know the better job we can do for you.”

Puddles loved listening to Whiskers in business mode. Doctor Dan shook his head no. Whiskers stood up gesturing towards the door.

“Allow me to walk you to your car,” Whiskers said.

A few minutes later, watching Doctor Dan’s tan flyer merge into traffic from their office window, Puddles looked at Whiskers, the end of her tail snapping back and forth, she was irritated. “Look into his case? What the hell?”

Leaning against their desk, one-half immaculate, the other half distressed, Whiskers calmly replied, “Did you even pay attention to the location he gave?”

“Yeah I heard, Doctor Dan said something about Tumbledown..”

“Doctor Dan? Another of your pirate nicknames?” Whiskers asked amused.

Puddles turned from the window waving off Whisker’s questions with a wave of her paw. Grabbing her favorite “Mother’s Favorite Kitty” coffee mug, Puddles began to make coffee, “Okay, so he said something about Tumbledown. Want some coffee?”

“A cup sounds great,” Whiskers followed Puddles to the coffee machine, “Name a part of Tumbledown not home to a gang, criminal organization, unregistered, ghouls, or about to collapse at a moment’s notice?”

“Oh that,” Puddles began trying to sound like she knew that all along, “we should look into his case first. I’ll call Chuck to pull data.”

Puddles and Whiskers, WDB The Present

Welcome to my continuing series and evolution on writing. Puddles and Whiskers began as a rough draft, which was turned into a draft, then I continued their story with more rough drafts. Now, I resume the editing process. WDB stands for Wash and Dry Brush, two phases in painting where details are added, mistakes are corrected, expansions are made, all to set up the end run the “final” edit. I also uses WDBs to ensure the story flows and if necessary make course corrections. Enjoy watching the evolution of Puddles and Whiskers.

For comparison, see here.

The Present…

BONG!

At the sound of a well-loved and used frying pan bouncing off a skull, everyone in the ramshackle room stopped fighting, for a brief second. Pouncing back from her fallen foe, golden furred Puddles tufted ears flat against her skull, tail stiff, and teeth bared brandished her frying pan above her head, drawing her Maxwell Arms Manstopper pistol from a shoulder holster at the same time and shooting a charging black and red clad mook.

“Give up will ya!” Puddles shouted at the room full of mooks.

Spotted gray and white furred Whiskers knee-slid underneath the sloppy punch of a mook, gutting the mook with his katana. Popping up from the slide, Whiskers flicked his katana clean of blood, and sought another challenger. Whiskers did not have to wait long; knocking smaller mooks aside with swings of a large pipe, a towering over-muscled mook lumbered straight towards Whiskers. Adjusting his grip to a low-position, Whiskers waited for the moment to strike the perfect blow.

BLAM!

BLAM! BLAM!

Three large bloody holes appeared on the over-muscled mook’s chest. For a brief second, the mook looked surprised before falling over. Curved knives drawn, three more mooks lept over his body to take his place.

“You’re welcome!” Puddles shouted at Whiskers.

Whiskers quickly shot Puddles an irritated glare before returning his attention to the mooks. The perfect moment gone, Whiskers charged the mooks. Sidestepping to the right at the last second, Whiskers swung his katana upwards, a blue holo-etching the length of the blade flared casting a blue light trail upwards, gutting the mook on the right as they passed each other. A half step forward, a downward stroke, followed by a quick slice to the right and the other two mooks fell clutching their wounds as the blue trail faded.

Silence

…other than their labored breathing, the room was silent. Puddles strolled over trash and dead mooks to Whiskers. Wiping his blade clean on a dead mook, Whiskers faced Puddles, his short pointed ears back while his tail slashed thru the air giving extra body English to his irritation with his longtime partner.

Pointing at the over-muscled mook’s body, “What was that about?”

Puddles shrugged. Her spotted tail waving lazily in an S-pattern that Whisker’s knew so well; her “Oops, did I do that,” when she knew what she had done shrug.

“I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” Puddles said over her shoulder, holstering her pistol while stepping over dead mooks on her way to the doorway, tail swishing away as if she did not have a care in the world.

Tail lashing, Whiskers stood for a moment, gripping his katana tightly holo-etching flaring bright, before sheathing in one smooth motion. He gave the over-muscled mook one last look before following Puddles out of the room into a refuse and graffiti covered hallway. The hallway floor cocked downward, ceiling tiles hung ready to fall at any moment. Halfway down the hallway, alarms began to sound and the few working hallway lights went from white to emergency red.

Ears upright, alert, Puddles looked at the ceiling, “Seems like an odd security system for a gang.”

“Took them long enough,” Whiskers mused.

“I thought we made more than enough noise,” Puddles replied.

“We?”

“Yes you,” Puddles made her infamous “Who me” gesture; ears forward, eyes wide, and arms held out.

“If you weren’t such a push over we wouldn’t be here,” Puddles said while peeking around a corner.

Nail Clippers, Pages 19 & 20

Right around here is where I started making a decision on who Jenkins would become…unfortunately, right after this things get muddled. Hopefully, things get unmuddled and Jenkins chooses a direction. 🙂

Previously.

Old Man Jenkins hated Mayer’s. Unfortunately, there were only two big box stores in town and he refused to shop at AwlMarts, which left Mayer’s where it seemed everyone came at the same time he did. Jenkins walked from the back of the parking lot into Mayer’s picking up a shopping cart along the way.

“Good afternoon,” the cherubic and overly friendly greeter belted out at anyone walking in.

Putting on his best, “I am happy to be here smile,” Jenkins pushed the cart past her. Walking back to the Storage Solutions aisle Jenkins envied Barbossa who was most likely sound asleep on his bed. Another cart crashing into his cart shook Jenkins out of his envious mood.

“Hey, don’t I know you?” Jax asked, as he pulled his cart out of the collision.

Jenkins moved his own cart back and looked up at the man, where did he know him? A wide smile crept across his face as he remembered where he saw this man before.

“You were at the hardware store talking to my wife?” Jax asked.

“That’s right. I had hard wood,” Jenkins laughed thinking about the wood in his cart at the time and the memory of Jax’s wood under the towel.

Jax laughed, “Funny crashing into you here. What are you shopping for?”

Jenkins pointed to the storage solutions, “I have some things I need to store soon.”

“That’s cool. I’m here for more planting supplies,” Jax said indicating the contents of his cart with a wave of his hand, “Well, I need to get home before Jetta returns from lunch.”

“Nice seeing you again,” Jenkins said, “By the way, my name is Jenkins.”

Jax shook Jenkins’s hand, “My name is Jax and my missing better half is Jetta. I’m sure we will bump into each other again.”

A short while later Jenkins loaded the large blue storage containers into his car. Patting down his pants for his keys, he pulled out the delivery receipt for the truck and cabinets, tomorrow around noon. Jenkins looked up feeling the sun on his face, things were definitely moving in the right direction.

****

“Seriously?” Jax asked Jetta.

“Yes,” Jetta replied hand on hip trying her best not to start laughing at the kid in a candy store look on Jax’s face, “we are going to the titty bar tonight.”

“I better get some singles,” Jax said and started laughing, “Which titty bar are we going to?”

“Pussy House Rules.”

Nail Clippers, Pages 15 & 16

Previously.

Standing on his front porch Jenkins watched red-faced EMS personnel load Devin and Chaz into the back of the ambulance. As soon as the EMS personnel had entered the kitchen both of them started to laugh and tried contained their laughter. The longer they worked on Devin the more red-faced they got and muffled snorts came from both of them. Jenkins did not blame them, if not for the meat he had to clean off the wall, he would have been laughing with them.

Thinking of the meat mess infuriated Jenkins. The silver lining, Devin, at least, would be gone for a few days and when he returned, Jenkins had a talk prepared for him. The ambulance roared off and Jenkins went back to his kitchen, shaking his head the entire time he scrapped the meat off the wall. Barbossa stayed out of sight, she knew her master well enough to avoid his moods.

“Come on Barbossa. We have work to do,” Jenkins called out as he picked up the bags and headed for the tornado shelter.

“Meow,” from Barbossa as she ran out the backdoor.

Barbossa waited patiently as Jenkins lifted the large wooden door open and dropped the door to the side. As soon as the door was open enough for her to fit, Barbossa darted into the shelter. Before gathering up the bags, Jenkins watched the sun begin to set. The setting sun provided enough light for him to walk down the worn wooden steps into the shelter and find the light.

Moving around the small room Jenkins made note of the roots to remove and additional supplies necessary to finish his project. Smacking himself on the head for not thinking to get some freestanding shelves or a trunk first, Jenkins moved the bags to a far corner instead of unpacking them. Bored, Barbossa followed Jenkins as he made one last tour of the room.

****

“Are you making the drinks by hand?” Jax shouted as he entered the back of the house.

A white towel hit him square in the face.

“What,” he mumbled from beneath the towel.

Tossing the towel onto a nearby table, Jetta stood in the doorway of the kitchen wearing her favorite hat, a Cheshire grin, and nothing else. Her skin glistened and she had one hand behind her back.

“Whatcha got behind your back?” Jax asked taking in his wife’s body.

“Nothing,” she said demurely.

Click! Followed by buzzing sound that filled the room. Jetta’s arm behind her back shook; her grin got larger and her eyes lit up.

“Did it come?” Jax asked.

“I did, twice,” Jetta replied holding aloft a large red vibrator.

Winking, she turned and ran for their bedroom, Jax hot on her heels. She jumped onto the bed scrabbling for the other side when Jax caught her by the ankle; dragging her laughing over to him. He took the vibrator out of her hand, the powerful vibrations shot up his arm.

“Damn,” he said while applying the rounded head to her swollen vulva.

Jetta sucked a breath and gasped as the vibrator did its work on her crotch. Powerful vibrations tingled her clit, her pussy, and her ass. She tried to squirm away, but Jax held onto her ankle and continued to press the vibrator home.

“Enough, enough,” Jetta panted, “It’s too much.”

“Too much you say,” Jax said as he tossed the vibrator onto the pillows where it rolled down onto the bed, vibrations shaking the bed.

He undid his pants with his free hand, his erect cock sprung forth as his pants hit the floor. Grabbing her other ankle Jax pulled her to him impaling her with his cock. Putting her legs on his shoulders Jax thrust deep into Jetta. She used her legs to pull herself tighter against him. The vibrator continued to roll over the bed.

“I love the feel of your cock,” Jetta said between grunts, groans, and moans.

“I love your pussy,” Jax grunted.

A few minutes later laying together on the bed, Jetta turned off the vibrator.

“This is a keeper,” Jetta said with a smile.

“Add it to the trunk,” Jax replied.

A phone rang as they lay together enjoying post sex bliss. Neither of them moved from the bed for the first two rings, on the third Jetta rolled off the bed, Jax grasping after her, and picked up her phone from the nightstand.

“Hello? Hey Mandy.”

Jax woke up when Jetta shook him; he had fallen asleep during the call. As he rolled over, she tossed her phone on the bed and picked up the big red one. Jax watched as she opened their toy chest at the end of the bed. She lifted out the top tray of flavored lubes and set it on the bed. While she made room in the toy chest for the big red one, Jax taste tested their flavored lubes.

Coughing, Jax asked, “Do we have to keep the bacon flavored lube?”

“That bad?” she responded.

“Haven’t you tasted it?”

“No, flavored lube is more of a you thing,” Jetta responded while putting the top tray back, “I prefer au natural,” she finished with a wink.

Rolling off the bed, Jax put on his pants, “Hey, what did Mandy want?”

“Lunch tomorrow she has a new job.”

“Another job? What happened to working at that ice cream place?”

“I’ll find out over lunch.”

Puddles and Whiskers, Wash and Dry Brush Phase 15

This is the last Wash and Dry Brush for a while. Everything for a while is new. Hooray! Next up in my writing process, I allow the new to percolate for a bit. I want to look at it with “new” eyes. Then the new material goes through the same process, only a bit more thorough as I have to ensure that names (Camile or Camilie) and other details are consistent. Until then, enjoy this last wash and dry brush and enjoy the new material. 🙂

Previously.

Morning over noodles

“Tang kai!”

“Un-shil ir!”

“Gaa Kha!”

“Welcome!”

The garish neon colored welcome holo outside of NiHo’s bellowed at Puddles, Whiskers, and Chuck as they entered the restaurant.

“I’m starving,” Chuck announced, heading for their “table.”

“You are always hungry,” Whiskers responded.

Sitting down, Puddles grunted in agreement.

“What’s wrong with you?” Chuck eyeballing Puddles asked.

“Just hungry,” she responded flipping through the holo-menu that popped up as she sat down, “I need some spicy noodles and to put this fe’thi case in the bank.”

Whiskers flipped through the menu before placing his order with a tap. Reaching into a pocket, he pulled out a tablet and slid it across the table to Puddles.

“This is what I have. What did you two capture?”

Puddles watched the vid non-committal grunting a few times during the playback, “We got similar footage. Chuck pulled all of their data.”

Grabbing the tablet with his black and white paw, Chuck called forth the data, “That’s everything on both of them.”

Whiskers took the tablet back and began reading.

“Can we get some better cases?” Puddles asked.

“Yeah,” Chuck chimed in.

Shooting Chuck a quick glare, “What yeah? You don’t work for us.”

“I don’t?” Chuck replied sarcastically gesturing at the table and tablet, “What was two nights ago?”

“I thought you were sleeping,” Puddles retorted with a laugh.

Whisker watched the two of them over the top of the tablet. “This looks like enough.”

“But. There is always a but,” Puddles replied.

“If the client wants more, then we will have to put in more hours.”

“I can catch up on my sleep,” Chuck said around laughs.

“Spicy pork noodles,” the clashing neon kimono garbed waiter announced.

Puddles raised his paw. Noodles in front of everyone, conversation resumed.

“Let’s hope so,” Puddles said around a mouthful of noodles.

“I think there is more than enough for her to see her husband is having an affair and with whom,” Whiskers said while dipping a slice of pork into the broth.

“What about the action?” Chuck asked.

“Action?” Whiskers replied stopping mid-dunk, “You do not mean footage of them engaging in…”

“Sex. Chuck wants to know where the proof of sex is,” Puddles interrupted.

A very pregnant silence; Whiskers looking at Puddles, Puddles waggled her brows, and Chuck tried to stifle a laugh.

“Let us hope she does not want that vid,” Whisker said, “If she does, Chuck you are wearing the recorder.”

All of them laughed and resumed eating. Whiskers pushed his empty bowl to the middle of the table and cleared his throat.

“I will take this to the client this afternoon. While I am doing that I want you,” looking at Puddles, “to review this information.” Pulling a smaller tablet out of another pocket, Whiskers slid the tablet to Puddles.

“What about me?” Chuck asked.

“I do have a job for you.”

“Really?” Puddles and Chuck said simultaneously.

“Acid Chamber wants us to start work this weekend before their concert starts. I did some preliminary work on their case, but I need you and your contacts to…”

“Already done,” Chuck interrupted his excitement evident.

Shaking his head in amusement, Whiskers finished his drink, “Good. Time for work.”

“Whiskers,” Puddles started looking up from the tablet.

“Later,” Whiskers responded shooting a quick glance at Chuck.

Standing outside NiHo’s next to their cars, “I’ll get a hold of you with what I find out later tonight,” Chuck said.

“If our client is happy, your payment should be in your account tonight,” Whiskers said to Chuck.

“Sounds good.”

“I’ll check in later,” Puddles said holding up the tablet, “I have some stuff to check out.”

Nail Clippers, Pages 13 & 14

Previously.

Soon enough we reach the point where the story went off the rails in my head. Until then, enjoy. 🙂

****

Jax carried several bags of fertilizer to the garden behind the porch; his rose plants needed some attention. Dropping the bags, two rabbits hopped off. If Jetta would let him, he would do something about those rabbits, but she insisted they he leave them alone. Every year, she started a garden and every year the rabbits ate most of it. Circle of life indeed. Jetta joined him carrying a tray of plants.

“Hey, my rabbits,” she cheerfully said, pointing at the white tails hoping around a corner.

“Yes, your rabbits,” Jax said sarcastically, “This year…”

“You will not do anything to my rabbits,” Jetta interrupted.

“What? No, this year I am going to get a blue rose.”

Every year he tried to grow a blue rose and while Jetta thought he would never be successful, she had to admit that some of the roses he did grow were pretty and the color in the yard was always pleasant.

Putting on her best, “of course you will look,” “This will be the year.”

“Don’t give me that look. This is the year,” he replied as he started unpacking the tray of plants.

“Want something to drink?”

“Please,” Jax replied, arranging the plants in neat rows.

In the kitchen, Jetta wiped off the counter before opening the refrigerator; reaching for two Cokes, the doorbell sounded, ding-dong, followed by a knock. Leaving the refrigerator door open, Jetta answered the front door; at the door was a short woman wearing a dark blue Package Express Nationwide International Services uniform. Her white name patch proudly announcing her name, Erin. She smiled at Jetta, and then frowned as an ambulance roared down the street. Jetta looked down the street after the ambulance and shrugged her shoulders.

“I have your package,” Erin said cheerfully, as she held up a box wrapped in brown paper, “Uh…”

The brown paper box buzzed and shook hard enough to cause Erin’s hands to shake. Jetta heard the loud buzzing and gave Erin a knowing smirk. Jetta took the vibrating box from Erin’s hands. Holding onto the box made her fingertips started to tingle. Erin pulled a handheld signature device from a hip holster and held it out to Jetta who set the box down. Vibrating on the ground the box started to move, Jetta put a foot on top of the box halting the box’s escape.

“It’s from my aunt,” Jetta said with another smirk as she signed on the line.

“Have a good day,” Erin said with a smile, raising an eyebrow towards the vibrating box under Jetta’s foot.

Puddles and Whiskers, Wash and Dry Brush Phase 14

Previously.

On the job

Grinding her teeth, something her dentist advised her to stop, Puddles shot daggers at Chuck, head in his chest sleeping in the passenger seat.

SNORE

Ten. Ten snores in the past, glancing at the clock, five minutes, each one louder and longer than the last. Her left ear twitched. At this rate, his snores would blow this surveillance. Chuck slid deeper into the seat; another loud, long snore mirroring his descent filled the car and Puddles was positive the coffin love motel they were watching. Grabbing Chuck’s shoulder, Puddles shook him.

“What,” Chuck snapped looking around the car in a panic.

Puddles held a single claw tipped finger up to him, “Sshhhh.”

“Was I…”

Thrusting the finger in front of Chuck’s face, “Not another sound.”

Sitting up, straightening his clothes, Chuck looked around for a few minutes before asking, “Anything?”

Puddles rolled her eyes, “No, nothing since he went into Love Buy The Hour. Miss Sad Face’s husband went in with Tart of the Month an hour ago. Whiskers caught all of the action on vid.”

“Where is Whiskers?” Chuck asked, while looking out the window at the front of the motel.

“Watching the side exit. Now keep watch and no more snoring.”

Fifteen minutes of silence.

“How do you do this?” Chuck started, “I’m bored and sleepy,” he finished with a wide mouthed yawn.

Puddles stared at Chuck deciding how to respond, leaning towards flushing her irritation at him out on him when Whiskers’ face appeared on the windshield monitor, “They are leaving. I will follow the husband. You and Chuck follow his partner.”

“Will do,” Puddles responded closing the vid-window.

“There goes Whiskers,” Chuck pointed at Whisker’s hover leaving the parking lot.

Puddles nodded as she positioned the car a few car lengths behind Tart of the Month’s car entering traffic.

“Why are we following her?” Chuck asked as he snapped vid of her car.

“What?”

“We have her license number and we have her face. Why not use CIS to get all of her data and be done in five minutes?”

“What does her data prove to Miss Sad Face?”

“Who?”

“The client. Miss…” Puddles tried to remember her name for a second as she changed lanes, “whatever her name is.”

“She can know who her husband is sleeping with.”

“Data proves nothing. She will want proof. Vid of her husband and,” gesturing at Tart of the Week’s car, “her is proof she can see.”

“So we follow her where?” Chuck asked.

“Wherever she goes. I’m hoping she is headed home.”

“Me too.”

Quiet time

Silence.

Blessed silence.

Sitting in the dark, watching the side exit of the Love Buy The Hour coffin motel, Whiskers relished the peace and quiet. No Puddles. No Chuck. No noise of the city. Nothing, but silence. After a week of rushing around the city, interviews with clients, and the frustration of a case ending without resolution was draining.

Following people around Stroud, taking vid and holo of them entering and leaving places revolted Whiskers, normally. Cases like this gave him a dirty feeling, bottom feeding on the misery of others did not sit well with him. However, peace and quiet did and cases like this were all about peace and quiet.

Pairing Chuck with Puddles ensured Whiskers quiet time. Leaning forward, Whiskers swiped across the windshield flipping through case information. Mister Ethan Harowe mid-level wageslave at Wanlot, married six years, no outstanding debts or for that matter, anything else. Wrapping this case up, a matter of a few more hours of following and recording.

Incoming message light flashing caught Whiskers attention, only a few individuals knew the car’s private message address. Two taps on the windshield cleared the casefile, another tap brought up the message. Sender unknown, Whiskers sat back. A quick glance at the clock, enough time to start a trace. A few minutes later, trace started and Mister Howe exited Love Buy The Hour kissing Caroline Tarr deeply before heading to his car. Mister Howe drove past, oblivious to Whiskers. Swiping the windshield established connection with Puddles in their car.

“They are leaving. I will follow the husband. You and Chuck follow his partner,” Whiskers said, starting the car, following Mister Howe.

An hour of late night traffic later, Mister Howe never deviating from the most direct path to his blockhouse apartment, pulling into an adjacent parking spot, Whiskers watched Mister Howe enter the elevator. Sitting back, Whiskers pulled up the vid images from tonight’s work; plenty of clear images of Mister Howe and partner. Checking the trace, a dead end. Curiosity warred with security. Security won, filing the message away, Whiskers headed back to the office.