Graciela

Third day of skipping work, lunchtime and I’m on the patio playing Wheel of Fortune on my iPhone. Graciela comes out and asks if I want a sandwich. Let me tell you about Graciela. My wife hired her and like always, she’s dressed like Brigitte Bardot in a slutty part. Graciela is an actress-model, my wife’s client but still looking for that big break. She’s here part-time and so far, I’m missing a watch, two rings, a gold pen, and an Armani scarf.    

Circus

Harry wandered into a place called the Circus Bar for a drink. He didn’t think anything of the name. Inside a woman in a glitter bikini pedaled a unicycle around the bar juggling whiskey bottles and a cowboy at the bar was guiding a costumed poodle through back flips. A bartender clown called out, “What’ll you have?” But before he could make Harry a black Russian the gypsy knife thrower missed his spinning target and sliced off Harry’s right ear.    

Posse

They followed his trail for three hours before reaching the desert, a no-man’s land of little more than rock, sand and rattlesnakes, tracks heading out into the middle of it. Squinting into the hazy sun, Call said, “Ain’t no hurry. One of you men go back for extra canteens of water.” Dub got the extra water and they set off into the desert. Couple of hours riding, they found him neck deep in the sand, dead. Apache style, lips like cut up sausage.