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rackmup
08-08-2003, 08:22 PM
<blockquote><font class="small">Quote voodoo daddy:</font><hr> My man Eric...Triple Secret Pool Detective...I love it!!<hr /></blockquote>

The chill of the Jersey night air was sharp enough to cut through even the toughest of men. But there he stood. A lone man against all that wasn't just with this city. A one man wrecking crew who would fight anyone who would sandbag in a pool league, lie about their ratings to get into a lower skill level 9-ball tournament, or take quarters from their momma's laundry stash just to waste at Lonnigan's Pub on a rickety bar table.

Eric, the Triple Secret Pool Detective, or "Teaspoon" as his closest friends called him, was on the watch for a few seedy characters who were in town with plans to cheat some locals out of their hard-earned cheese.

As he stood outside "Sharky's Pool &amp; Pawn" with his collar turned up against the night chill, rain began to fall. Just a few drops at first but eventually the sky opened wide and dumped more water on him than Hoover dam does on a dry Nevada desert.

This would have sent weaker, less determined men running for the warmth of a woman's arms. But not Eric. First of all, he didn't have a woman and second, "TSP" doesn't run from anything or anyone. Nope, he just reshaped the brim of his tattered fedora and allowed the water to run off him like the memories of a woman he had once loved so long ago.

Passersby' had to wonder what this man was looking for that required him to stand in a downpour. He was ignored by others, as are so many denizens in this town. TSP didn't care. He was looking for a specific handful of men. Not just any men. Oh no...These men were up to no good.

Ritchie Idrovo, John Binion, Jason Kirkwood, Norm Wines, Jesse Bowman, Amar Kang, and Alex "the Lion" were rumored to be in town and planning on dressing as elderly Jewish women to compete in a local qualifier for the upcoming SUPER POOL CHALLENGE and Eric wasn't going to allow it.

Just as he regained his focus on the front door of Sharky's, a familiar voice echoed from the darkness of the nearby alley, "Eric. Eric, is that you?"

The voice held the sweetness of fine chocolate and was as familiar as an old pair of jeans. "Eric...it's me. I knew I would find you here." The voice was so familiar but it had been so long ago since he had embraced the melodious notes.

He turned toward the sound and softly asked, "Please...step slowly and quietly into the light of the street lamp."

Demure footsteps could be heard treading the puddles of rain. The face came into the soft glow of the artificial light and he instantly recognized the image now only a few feet away.

What he had seen vanish so many years ago was now confronting him. Dressed in tight jeans, a form fitting sweater and black stiletto heels stood someone once dear to him. The figure held out a hand and asked Eric...

"Momma said you'd be down here. She said you were grumblin' bout some dudes in town. Loan me twenty bucks. It's amateur night at the "Pink Pony" and I wanna enter."

Without saying a word, Eric handed his cross-dressing stepbrother a twenty and turned his attention back to the door of Sharky's as the clicking of size 13 pumps faded into the dense fog.

Tune in later for the conclusion of "Teaspoon": Righter of Wrongs and a Stepbrother in Thongs

pooljunkie73
08-08-2003, 08:50 PM
When is chapter 2 going up? /ccboard/images/graemlins/grin.gif

Kent Mc.

nAz
08-08-2003, 08:58 PM
"Without saying a word, Eric handed his cross-dressing stepbrother a twenty and turned his attention back to the door of Sharky's as the clicking of size 13 pumps faded into the dense fog."

Bahahaha

JohnBarton
08-10-2003, 10:28 AM
/ccboard/images/graemlins/grin.gif Too Funny! Thanks.

bell
08-10-2003, 04:35 PM
Get down Rackmup! I'll buy the book.

Eric.
08-11-2003, 07:54 AM
Wow. Wow! Where do you find the time for that?

Perhaps the many solitary nights at home, where after many hours of seeking fulfillment of the need for companionship on the CCB, then retiring to the Boudoir with a nice cup of warm milk and your many Danielle Steele novels- you let your imagination loose.

But alas, Ken, after drifting off to sleep, D. Steele novel hugged to your chest, and dreaming of being licked and nuzzled lovingly by Pam Anderson, you wake up to find your pet Dog "Sammy" giving you the hickey, thus shattering your ecstatic fantasy of Pam.

Which brings me to my point:

You're losing your grip on reality! /ccboard/images/graemlins/grin.gif


Eric &gt;Not a Triple Secret Detective nor on Double Secret Probation

Voodoo Daddy
08-11-2003, 12:16 PM
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...see how rumors start???

Eric.
08-11-2003, 01:01 PM
Speaking of rumors, what's this I hear that you're not going to the Open? Wassup?


Eric

Voodoo Daddy
08-11-2003, 01:35 PM
Its a work thing ERIC...cant be avoided. Just the way the ball bounces.

or....

Could it be I fear Heide's One-Hole game?
Could it be the presence of the WOLVES?
Could it be that I dont wanna see any of my friends?
No matter the reason...have a cocktail for me, will ya?