By Bob Senitram
Thinking up the nonsense, ’cause I got nothin’ else to do…
Bob makes his flight to Huston and enters the infamous prison and approaches the first man he see’s.
“Excuse me, have you seen the warden?”
“I am the warden.”
“Excellent, could you point me in your direction?”
Puzzled, the warden points to himself.
“Now that I’ve found you, allow me to introduce myself, I’m Agent Senitram. I’m scheduled to see Dr. Hector.”
The warden looks him over, “Identification?”
“No thank you, I have my own.”
The warden coughs, “No, I need to see your identification.”
“Of course.” Bob pulls a card out of his wallet and hands it over.”
The warden takes a look, “This is a library card Mr. Senitram.”
“That’s Special Agent Senitram. Here.” Bob hands another card.
“Ummmmm, this is a zoo membership. Special Agent Senitram.”
“That’s Senior Special Agent Senitram. Just keeping you on your toes.” Bob reaches in his coat pocket and pulls out a harmonica. “Nope.” He reaches in his pants pocket, deeper and deeper until his elbow is the only shing showing. “Aha! Found it!”
He hands it over.
The warden reads, “Acting Senior Assistant Special Agent Senitram…impressive. What does that mean?”
“It means I do what I want.”
“Yeah, right. That Dr. Hector’s one tricky dude, stick to the rules. No direct eye contact, no physical contact, and for god’s sake don’t share anything personal.”
“Wait…what? Won’t we be separated by bars or Plexiglas or something?”
“Everybody else…yes. We got special orders for you. They said your some sort of psychological expert…”
“Well, I did get a C-plus on a “Perspectives on American Culture” at UNO. So yeah, I guess I’ll be ok.”
At the end of the hallway was Barney, he guards the entrance to the cells.
“Barney, I’d like you to meet Acting Senior Assistant Special Agent Senitram.”
“That’s Deputy Regional Acting Senior Assistant Special Field Agent Senitram.” Bob corrects.
Barney looks him over, “I’ll call you Steve.”
“Actually, it’s Bob.”
“Ok, this way Bob.”
“Barney’ll take over from here. I don’t wanna get near that freak.” The warden says as he walks away.
Barney frisks Bob and finds his gun. “Sorry dude, no weapons near the creep.”
“But the Captain said if he try’s to eat me, I can shoot him.”
“Yeah, right. He’ll gulp you down like a sardine and break out.”
Bob gulps and rubs his neck.
“This is as far as I go. Here’s the key. Good luck.” Barney opens a gate leading to the cells.
“Thanks.” Bob slowly walks down the hall, jumping just a bit when the gate is closed and locked.
A guy behind bars mumbles, “You smell like a girl, you got perfume on?”
“Just old spice.” Bob replies as he speeds up with is head toward the ground.
Bob reaches Dr. Hector’s cell.
“Good morning Dr. Hector, FBI. My name is Bob Senitram and I like to tell stories…”
“What?”
“Oh, nothing…”
“Well, come in Mr. Senitram. I understand they gave you a key. Come in, come in…” Hector says as he licks his lips.
“Ummmmmm, actually…They couldn’t find it. I guess someone told the warden to lock you up and lose the key, so he did. This is…this is, some other key…”
“Riiiiiight. Your one of Benson’s boys aren’t you?”
Bob’s eyes squint, “Who you callin’ ‘boy’?”
“I didn’t mean…”
“Better not say nuthin’ about my momma!” Bob blurts out.
“What did Jimmy say to you as you passed by?” Dr. Hector asks.
“He said I smelled like a girl, but at least he didn’t call me no boy…”
“Lighten up Frances…”
“Senitram.”
“Lighten up Senitram.”
Bob’s irritated already. “I got a questionnaire, you want to take a look?”
“Not really. I can tell you’re a just a cadet. Benson must be pretty desperate recruiting cadets.”
“You’re very perceptive.”
“You’re look awfully young for FBI. What are you? Twelve?”
“Very funny, I’m just a little on the short side.”
“Do you have a tiny little car that goes beep, beep, beep?”
“Shuddup.”
“You’re so small, I cold barely squeeze a plate of appetizers out of you.”
“Oh come on! Not even appetizers? How about a pot pie?” Bob asks.
“Yessssss, you don’t need a lot of meat for a pot pie. A meal on a budget…I like the way you think, Agent Senitram. Not at all like Hopalong Hank. Hector looks down, sadly.
Bob leans forward, “What do you know about Hopalong Hank? Was he one of your patients?”
“I know he’s been a very naughty boy…”
“Tell me about him?” Bob asks.
“Why do they call him Hopalong Hank? The newpapers seem to leave that out.” Dr. Hector ask’s.
“I dunno? Why do they call you Cannibal Hector?”
“Because I eat people.”
“Oh, yeah. Right.”
“Your white trash!” Dr. Hector concludes.
“Actually, I’m Mexican…”
“Brown trash…” Hector corrects.
“Screw you! And this stupid questionnaire, I’m outta here!” Bob growls as he walks away.
“Ok, ok, I’ll talk!” Hector says with conviction.
Bob turns abruptly, “What do you say? What do you say?”
“I won’t talk.”
“God Damn it…” Bob starts walking away.
“Ok, ok, I’ll talk, I’ll talk.”
“Oh, OK. Now what do you know about Hopilong Hank?”
“Uuuuuuuuum, nope. Just decided I’m not gonna talk after all.”
“I’m not falling for your stupid mind games Cannibal Hector!” Bob turns around and starts walking away, again.
“Ok, ok, I’ll talk! I’LL TALK!!!” Hector pleads.
“Won’t work!” Bob yells back as he heads toward the door.
AND NOW YOU KNOW!!!
Sorry, I can’t get last two minutes of your life back!
Song in my head:
COMING NEXT: The Squealing of the Pigs, Part 4!
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