Hell City is our new weekly comic book type superhero detective story thing by our good friend in LA, Tim!
This city is a bitch. It’s a god-damned fucking whore goddess bitch… and it’s about to get bitchier. The name of this place is Helle City but we got a nickname for it around here. We call it Hell City. You know, like the place you go to when you’ve been a bad little boy or girl. Ha. What a place. Only two kind of people come to Hell City. Those with a chip on their shoulder and those that are the ones throwing chips.
My name is Frank Nails. That Nails as in “hard as.” I’m also a hard-ass.
Some people call me a private detective. I just call myself a dick.
But what the heck, you got a case and I’ll take your stupid money.
I could use some money right about now. I’m only $10.00 away from retirement. The kicker is though if I don’t make that ten bucks by tonight I fall into a lower tax bracket and have to keep working for another twenty years. Thanks Obama. The clock is ticking. Doesn’t look like I’ll make the dough. That’s when she walked in.
Five foot something and blonde in all the right places. Legs up to her tits. Erection inducing doesn’t even begin to describe this dame.
“Are you the detective?” She said.
“Depends who wants to know?”
“Me. The Client.”
“Well then. I suppose I am. I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name?”
“That’s cause I didn’t throw it.” She replied.
Damn, this broad’s already got me cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs and it’s not even breakfast time.
“Playing it loose like a goose. I can dig it. What can I do for you?”
“I think my husband might be cheating on me.” Why are the pretty ones always married to jerks with a capital ‘J’?
“Find me proof of his infidelity and I’ll pay you anything you want.”
“You got it tootsy-cakes. I’ll need ten bucks. Up front. In fives if you got them.” Easy case and looks like I’ll have enough to retire after all. Can’t wait to move down to Florida and sip some cool drinks off some hot gals.
“Why so cheap?” She asked.
I grabbed my heart. “Ohh. Please don’t insult me.” Then I shot her the kind of grin a man sends to lady to let her know he’s like pretty freaking cool.
“You’re a strange man Mr. Nails but for some reason I trust you. Here’s two fives. Don’t spend them all in one place.”
She started walking out of the door. Her butt wiggling like a kid
“Hey!” I yelled back at her. “I never got your name.”
She pressed her lips up against the glass window on my door, leaving a ruby imprint of our time together. “You’re the detective. You figure it out…” She was gone.