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Bjyman
Post subject: Genes of Tex Murphy
Post Posted: Feb 03, 2011 6:33 pm
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Well since I didn't get a shot at the Eyes of Grendeljen I thought I'd do some writing of my own. This story takes place right after the Pandora Directive and shows what happened after Tex spent the check he got from Elijah Witt. If you wish to comment on the story please do so in a new post. Enjoy.

Intro: Easy Come, Easy Go

My name is Tex Murphy. I'm a private investigator. It was late April. Almost half of 2043 had already depreciated and I was getting that much closer to being 40. 40 years old or 40 years young, depending on how you look at it, but that didn't matter to me. What did matter to me was that I just got a $50,000 check from Elijah Witt!

Elijah Witt was a Mayan professor I met on my last case. I won’t spare you the details, because you wouldn't believe it. The description for dummies version was that he gave me the money for solving a case he was involved in. I was actually surprised, because Mr. Witt and I didn't hit it off at first. That along with my marriage to my ex-wife Sylvia shows you can't judge a book by its cover.

I walked down Chandler Avenue, the street outside my office slash living quarters, and put my check into the laser optical ATM down the street. Well what do you know? It actually worked! Triumph aside I now had to decide what to do with that money. The first thing I thought about was Chelsee, the girl of my dreams who redefined the word frustration, and where I could take her out. Weenie World and the Brew and Stew were out of the question, however I wasn't about to flaunt my success with her, at least not blatantly. A man's wallet is a man's business and she had played her own games with me too many times. So why not even the score?

Chelsee already knew from me telling her my story that I got a check from Elijah, but she just didn’t know how much. She’d piece it together eventually. I also thought about giving my speeder an upgrade, but then decided Chelsee wasn’t that much into materialism. She couldn’t be to be interested in someone like me.

Then there was investing. Sounds great on the surface, but the bozos who I hired to manage my funds a few years back were incompetent with a capital I. Seems to me the market is run by two words: insider info. How to even put yourself in that position where you get that kind of info, without being one of the higher up employees is beyond me. Not to mention figuring out if using any information you acquire is even legal. Even if there was a legal way to do it I’m not sure I’d do it, because I don’t believe in making money unethically. No I was the kind of person who took people like that down. At the very least I’d get a savings account.

My next thought was to put some of the money back into my business. I thought about giving my office another makeover, but decided a dump, like the Ritz, can only be covered up so much. No I needed some new real estate. The Golden Gate Hotel down the street was one of my first prospects, but as I far as I knew it was still shut down for fire code violations. Just as well. A more upscale neighborhood would probably do my business better anyways. I was so distracted in my monetary bliss that I didn’t even pay attention to the surroundings around me, except to notice that Chelsee’s newsstand was currently vacant. That didn't help because I almost tripped over a lampost. I walked back up to my office through the stairwell outside and dialed up the Imperial Lounge on my vidphone.

I visited the Imperial Lounge during my last case and was impressed by its atmosphere and the bourbon. Sure it wasn't the best place in the world, but anything was better than where I was staying at now. A landlord who's rude and threatens to kick you out, unscheduled electricity malfunctions, and entrepreneur friendly thin walls where you dont even need to put a glass cup up to it to listen in on a conversation was only the beginning. It was a 15 minute conversation with one of the owners of the Imperial, but after a mutual decision we decided to e-sign a lease. E-signing or electronically signing something was becoming the way of the future. The month to month lease I had with the Ritz was still good for another 3 weeks, so in lieu of not moving most of my possessions over to the Imperial right away, I decided for some R&R. Part of that of R&R would be paying my rent to my landlord, Nilo, in full, telling him what an unscrupulous business man he is, and telling him we’re done!

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Jim the old guy
Post subject: Re: Genes of Tex Murphy
Post Posted: Feb 06, 2011 10:06 pm
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OK, so far so good; what next? Fifty G's is a lot more $$ than Tex has seen in 50 years and he's only 40! So, pick up the slack, ol' buddy, and get the rest of the story going! :wink:

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"If you look to me for illumination, you better have a flashlight!"

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Jen
Post subject: Re: Genes of Tex Murphy
Post Posted: Feb 07, 2011 6:45 pm
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Thanks for the post Jim, didn't know this bad boy was here.

Looking forward to the next installment!

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Bjyman
Post subject: Re: Genes of Tex Murphy
Post Posted: Feb 07, 2011 9:00 pm
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Thanks for the praise. The next chapter was going to be really long, but I decided to break it up into three chapters. So you should get another dose soon. I've also started my own comments thread so if people could post their comments there I'd appreciate it.

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Bjyman
Post subject: Re: Genes of Tex Murphy
Post Posted: Feb 09, 2011 7:12 pm
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Day 1: Irrational Karma

Chapter 1


As I walked down the stairway to the lobby where Nilo normally is and I began to have second thoughts. I don’t want to burn my bridges completely since everything wasn’t finalized. I’d have to tone down what I’d say a little, but that still would leave plenty of room to entertain the psyche.

I opened the door and was a greeted by a foul stench of body odor. Not totally unfamiliar to me when walking in the lobby of the Ritz, but now it was starting to get to the ranks of Pug. A couple flies, which hovered near Nilo, couldn’t seem to get enough of the stench. Nilo was sitting on the front desk reading an issue of Golf Digest. At least on first glance. Those savvy knew that it was only the Golf Digest cover on top of a Playbub. He greets me with one of his famous one-liners.

“Hi Tex. Consider this sentence your eviction notice.” said Nilo.

“No eviction needed. Here’s all the money I owe you. Enjoy it while you can, because this will also be my last month. So in a word that someone who is bi-lingual such as yourself should understand. Sayanora!” said Tex with a smirk dropping the money on the counter.

“Tex Mex you aint! Well you actually paid me back. Tell ya what. A deals a deal, but you’ll have to get me something that says that in writing. Meet me at the Brew and Stew at 7 o’clock tonight and I’ll take a look at your notice.” said Nilo.

“Only if you put on some deodorant.” said Tex

Later at the Brew and Stew

The Brew and Stew was quiet, which was not surprising being so close to closing hours. Good for me, because I really didn’t want to be seen around Nilo. Glenda was mopping the floors and Nilo motions me to come over to the booth to where he’s sitting at. I cautiously sit down at the booth.

“So what is this a date?” asked Tex

“Nyet sicko! I just thought I’d give you a going away party” said Nilo

Nilo ordered drinks for both of us.

A few seconds later Louie LaMintz, the owner of the Brew and Stew, came over with a couple bottles of bourbon. He gave one to each of us.

“I’m just as shocked as you are.” said Louie with a puzzled look on his face.

Through my friendship with Louie he hinted that he was just as disgusted with Nilo as I was even though he wouldn’t come right out and say it.

“No rocks Nilo?” asked Louie.

“Do I look like I need rocks? What are you going to ask me next? Shaken or stirred?” asked Nilo.

Being short and pudgy Nilo was hardly a James Bond, in fact the comparison gave me a good laugh, but Louie got the message and left. He knew my drinking preferences, straight up, so he didn’t have to ask me, but I don’t think he had ever dealt with Nilo as a customer before. In fact I’m surprised he didn’t make Nilo pay up front.

I greedily open the bottle of bourbon Nilo got me and noticed Nilo isn’t drinking his.

“Aren’t you going to drink yours?” asked Tex

“Tell ya what. You go to my office at the Ritz you can have it. You should know by now I don’t like talking business out in the open.” said Nilo

“Deal” said Tex.

If Nilo was thinking he could get me drunk enough to where he could get me to change my mind about the lease he was sadly mistaken. Whether it’s build up immunity or manliness I can hold my own against bourbon. Nilo slid his bottle to me across the table. I put in my trenchcoat. I suddenly remembered I had money and ordered a third. I decided what conversation topics if any to have with Nilo. If there was an opportunity I decided I’d butter him up about the Crusade until he was ready to leave. Luckily there wasn’t.

“Bill please!” shouted Nilo across the room.

Glenda finished with her cleaning put our bills on the table. I’m sure she would have mentioned something about Nilo’s etiquette, but probably wasn’t in a position to do so because of the undetermined tip. I moved my eyes to where I could see the dollar amount without Nilo noticing. I put down a twenty. Nilo paid the bill in full, but not a penny over. I was still finishing my first bottle as we walked out the front doors.

As I was walking by Nilo, my eyes darted around Chandler Avenue to look for anyone like Clint or Rook who would make fun of my predicament. Fortunately it was nighttime and except for the ramblings of Crazy Gary the streets were empty. I celebrated with another swig, pouring the liquid down my throat. We made it to the Ritz and Nilo stopped by Apartment C, which also currently doubled as his office. The Ritz has 5 apartments each with their own keycode that opens the corresponding door. Apartments A through D along with the bathrooms were on the second floor and Apartment E, my apartment was on the third. Nilo gets ready to punch in his keycode.

“Don’t look at my keycode.” said Nilo

I turned my head and we entered apartment. If I was a woman I wouldn’t have done this, but I was tall enough to be basketball material. I was greeted by an all too familiar stench of body odor, except this one was worse than our encounters in the lobby. With the smell, clothes, and cigar ashes strewn all over the place reminded of a college dorm, but worse. I decided to tough out the stench and get the business with the lease over with. Nilo sat on a stained bed that I was going nowhere near so I sat on a chair near the door. I handed him notice and began to work on the second bottle of bourbon.

“So ya finally moving out? Chelsee actually letting you move in her?” said Nilo with a smirk.

It wasn’t a bad idea, but Nilo obviously meant it as an insult. Nilo could tell by my silence I was offended.

“Look Tex I know we don’t always get along, but the truth is I value your business. Cuz of that I’ve added a new security feature on the apartment keypads. You enter the code 4 times in a row wrong an alarm will go off. It’s perfect for the gumshoe on the go.” said Nilo.

“No thanks. I paid you back. So we good now?” asked Tex.

I took the time for Nilo to respond to put some inebriant down.

“Are you sure about that?” asked Nilo.

Nilo turns on the TV by his bed and then presses a button on the DVD player. Beginning to get fed up with the ruse I commented.

“Don’t tell me we’re watching one of your Playbub videos.” said Tex.

“No something even better.” said Nilo.

The TV screen starts to change from black and I immediately recognize something. It was the lobby one floor below us. A man wearing a trenchcoat and a fedora walks up to a vending machine. It was me! I watched myself press a button on the vending machine. I then picked up something in the bottom slot. It was the only sandwich in the machine. The video even had audio because listened to myself say, ”Sheesh this sandwich is about as fresh as Nilo’s undershirt”. I then broke it in half and tossed it aside.

“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” Tex said.

“The keypads aren’t the only security feature I added. There was a glitch in the vending machine that allowed people to take things out of the machine for free. So I decided for some surveillance. You didn’t put any money in the vending machine. That will be $5000.” said Nilo

Nilo must have sensed I came into some cash.

“You’re going to make me pay $5000 for a moldy sandwich I didn’t even eat?!!" yelled Tex

“Supermarkets still charge you for things you don’t eat and I never had a price label for the items.” said Nilo.

Nilo paused.

“Sides it’s all covered by the “prices in the vending machine are subject to change line in the lease.” said Nilo.

I regained my composure and opened my last bottle.

“Knowing how thin these walls are I’m sure the tenant next door has heard our entire conversation.” said Tex

“Just your draw of the stick. Apartment A is vacant.” gleamed Nilo

“Well how about I just get my contact in the Bay City Mirror to run an article about how you paint fire extinguishers on the walls?” asked Tex

“That would violate the non disclosure agreement in our lease. Besides who do you think tipped off regulations about the Golden Gate Hotel? Oh and just so you don’t get any ideas of destroying anything, I sent a copy of the DVD up to my cousin in Mexico. So don’t worry.” said Nilo.

“Well excuse me if I use the bathroom.” said Tex.

“Just remember there’s still the inspection.” said Nilo

The liquor was starting to catch up to me. I walked over to the men’s bathroom across the hall and pulled on the door handle. The door denied my request. I hurriedly check the door handle to the women’s bathroom to make sure there wasn’t any discrimination. It was also locked. I pounded on the door to Nilo’s room. Nilo opened the door.

“Why are the bathrooms locked?” asked Tex

“The bathrooms are not covered on your lease.” said Nilo

Businesses were predictably closed at this time of night. Was this a deliberate bladder setup? Either way I didn’t have time to deal with Nilo. I ran down the stairs to the lobby, out the front doors of the Ritz and into my safe peeing spot. The sewers.

Not too many people in Chandler Avenue knew about the sewers beneath the ground that connected the main street to the alley behind Rook’s Pawnshop, but I found them more than useful. It was often my spot for peeing when I was drunk. Feeling confident no one could see me I relieved myself. Really when you think about it I was taking a shortcut.

I went to my office and thought about what to do for the rest of the day. I wasn’t coherent enough to call Chelsee and decided to call it a night. I also decided tomorrow I was going to give Nilo some payback of my own, PI style!

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