People say there are more than two sides to every story, that the world isn't black and white. What hokum, I say mind your own bee stings. That's why I painted my office entirely black and white: the walls, the lamp, even the black and white cat just to show old puss puss who's boss. The lead base gave you an aesthetically pleasing haze to your vision, and the smell went nicely with my black and white glass of whiskey and cigarette. But me? I'm an outlier, the black sheep who was purple pink, like pink and purple combined. Unlike the rest of the poor schmucks in this city of vice, I was born from pores rather than Bible no no parts, as is life as a Gremblo. However, I was just like them in every other way. I feel love, lust, and have a sense of justice. This city is filled with criminals, and the poor denizens of this city need a detective no matter the colour of their skin. And just like a college girl experimenting with her best friend, I was going to get to the bottom of all this. As dear old puss puss finally stopped twitching from lead inhalation, the door opened. Another client, and she didn't read the "do not disturb sign" I had put up, typical. I took my hand out of my pants and wiped it on the dead cat, looking up at the violator of my personal time.

It was a leggy dame, she was one large leg going all the way up to her pretty chin. She didn't have any hair on her head, a little odd, but she made up for it with her fashionable leg hair that was tied into dreadlocks. And her voice, how she spoke," Detective Gremb I presume" she said, sounded like butter. The solid kind, the ones you buy with pebbles already embedded into them, the ones that break teeth and shred ear drums. This was a real lady in my office, upper crust.

"You're in the right office" I replied, sucking the remaining residue off my fingers one by one," Please, sit, tell me your name".

She hopped over to the gamer chair across from me and sat down on my newly deceased cat," Thank you detective, you're a true gentleman".

"What seems to be the problem? Daddy take your car away? Boyfriend with a grudge?" I poured her a glass of lead, hopefully this session would end quick.

"Sorry, I don't drink" oh well, at least I tried," Anyways, it's my shop, someone broke into it recently and stole from the safe. I was hoping you could track them down".

It wouldn't be easy to track down stolen goods in Bhutan City, capital city of Bhutan, and I told her so," It wouldn't be easy to track down stolen goods in Bhutan City, capital city of Bhutan".

"Please, detective, I have nowhere else to turn. I'll even pay you handsomely" she coughed up some bus change, landing on my hard wood, table," here's some bus change".

I looked at the bus change," this is bus change" I told her.

"Yes I know" she replied, ready to regurgitate again," do you want more?"

I hesitantly took it with my saliva covered finger tips and dragged the change closer to me. You take what you can get in this city.

She giggled," our saliva touched, it's almost like we kissed" she flashed a toothy grin, broccoli in every crevasse. She got up on her one leg and shuffled to the door.

"You never told me your name" I said. She turned around," Legberta... Legberta Jones" her massive one leg throbbed once then she left.

Guess that meant I've been hired. This was nothing special, lost girl was hopping mad about her shop being robbed. She didn't tell me which store, though, nor the general location. I decided to put on my cycling enthusiast's trench coat and fedora, I was a life long pedalphile, and decided to catch the first bus I saw to every boot store in the city. Funny, I thought to myself, she gave me bus change even though buses never change. They never change...

Episode 2: The Munk with Spunk

I finally arrived at Legberta's boot store, one cop was at the scene of the crime already, so were a cowboy, a biker, a soldier, an electrician, and a native American chieftain. It always got me down when I wasn't the first at a crime scene, let alone being seventh. The cast of cooky characters all turned to face me at once, pointing and screaming that I was a young man and there was no need to feel down. I yelped like a puppy being slapped between two moist buns also the size of said puppy, and moved on with my investigation. Thankfully, the bus driver agreed to wait for me, even though there were forty other passengers on board, so I didn't need to worry about getting home on time. I shuffled over like feet across sand paper to Legberta's old safe which was broken into with something awfully strong, this was not the perp's first violin recital. Something seemed odd, however, as the safe was completely soaking wet, cold water pooling in the middle a bit, very strange I thought...

1 month prior, Bhutan city, capital city of Bhutan, a simple apartment complex above the local church of scientology Mahjong meet up place. A scrawny man awaits his fate...

I was in over my head, I had no other alternatives, the debt collector was about to stomp his meter long muddy sandals up to my front door, and I had to face him once more to tell him I didn't have the money I had taken as a loan for microtransactions. The tears flowed from my face as I realized I was not too far away from acquiring the illustrious hairy Armenian man skin pack for my niiko niiko dressup character, but such is life. When life gives you lemons, my grandmother always said, that was a market indicator that you'd end up in massive debt soon, but I did not pay attention to that psycho woman. I played my favourite game, niiko niiko dressup mobile edition, to pass the time before the debt collector would come by. Once the doorbell rang I didn't even put my phone down to stop playing the great and addicting game niiko niiko dressup mobile edition when I went to answer it.

"Silviari Silvarini I presume?" I asked the man.

"You know who I am, Bub" he replied," Pay up, Buster"

"I'm s-s-sorry" I looked down at my feet blushing in my loins," I don't have the money"

"Listen, Punk, Guy, I've got a quota to fill and I can't let you go around making me look unreliable, alright, pipsqueak?"

"I don't know what to tell you, sir, I am very sorry..." I replied blushing even brighter.

"Then I guess I gotta-" Silvarini glanced at my phone," is this what you've been spending the money on? Niiko niiko dressup mobile edition?"

At this point my groin was incandescent, a lighthouse of pleasure," y-y-yes sir..." the blushing began spreading like a rash.

"Are you any good at it?" he asked raising his neanderthal brow.

"Very much so" I was entirely bright red at this point, lighting up every room in the apartment simultaneously.

"Then that's how you're gonna make back the money. See, debt collecting is only my side gig. As a Bhutanese mafia man, my main objective is to set up illegal niiko niiko dressup tournaments in alleyways. High stakes, high rewards. You get what I am jiving, my little sweetheart?" he struck a match and popped it in his mouth.

"Yes, I dig it" at this point I had blinded the nudist old lady who lived across the street from my apartment. She couldn't see herself anymore, but lord did I still enjoy seeing her.

"Then waddaya say? I've got a tournament set for tomorrow night behind the Hot Topic at the mall" he said, opening a new pack of matches to crunch.

"I'm in" the blushing subsided, but the damage to old lady "supple chops" Mcgewin was already done.

"Sorry, what's your name again?" Asked Silvarini," I need to pen you down for a name at the tournament"

I was befuddled," but, sir, you already said my name in its entirety: Bub Buster Punk Guy Pipsqueak, or squeaker for short"

He nodded violently, knocking out a passerby behind him with one backwards thrust of his thick skull to theirs," alright, see you then... or I will see to you"

The next evening I got dressed for the tournament. I put on my "I heart Pitas" trench coat and fedora, I was a life long pitaphile, bent backwards until I grabbed my feet, and rolled into action towards the Hot Topic at the mall. The lights were flashing, the music blaring, and the British politicians Blairing. This was the place. I met with Silvarini who penned down a better nickname for me before I went into the ring, torrent of sweat sprinkling from my chin.

The announcer had thickened, anime inspired manga hair in the shape of a squirt gun, and a blazer made of plastic bags. "Alright contestants" he began, "in the left corner today we have..." he ripped out his dead tooth and threw it in my eye," The Incandescent Red Menace" no one cheered, except for old lady "supple chops" mcgewin who attended. "And in the right corner we have..." he pulled out his other dead tooth and threw it to my opponent," The Munk with Spunk" the crowd began to cheer as the munk fired a cannon of hot white liquid all over Tony Blaire's face and chest. "Now get ready to Niiko niiko dressup! On your marks: ichi, ni, NYA~"

I began fumbling with the screen, what was I even doing here? Silvarini was going to reprimand me for losing... then I looked down at my feet and began to blush...

To be continued...