Lunar Crisis by Tom Dublin

Author:Tom Dublin [Dublin, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: LMBPN Publishing
Published: 2018-06-04T06:00:00+00:00

Moon of Hann, Police Headquarters, Chief's Office

Police Chief Bis Pargo took a step back and peered over the top of his half-moon glasses at the two blown-up photographs of himself being held up on the opposite side of the room.

"Neither of them!" he barked. "Neither of those screams, 'Hey, I'm a standup guy. Vote for me as the next Mayor of Hann!'"

Grumbling, he sat down and flipped open a polished wooden box on his desk, rummaging inside for one of his more expensive cigars.

Oxbo Lake set both photographs down on the room's small meeting table and scampered over to the desk, smoothing his bleached-blond goatee with tattooed fingers.

"If I may speak freely as your campaign chairperson, sir, that's exactly what both of those pictures scream. They're saying 'you can trust me, I'm just like you!'"

"You can see my bald spot in them!" thundered Pargo. "I gave you strict instructions to airbrush that out!"

Lake sighed as he removed his red-framed spectacles and pinched the bridge of his nose. "And I told you, sir, you're campaigning on a promise of honesty! You’ve called out the current Mayor on his history of lies and corruption, but you can't keep doing that if you fudge the way you look on your flyers!"

Finally locating the cigar he was searching for, Pargo snipped off the end and sat back. He pulled a matchbook emblazoned with the phrase 'Vote Pargo' on the cover from a glass bowl.

"I don't care what you told me!" the police chief rumbled. "Folks can't vote for me if they're doubled over laughing at my comb-over! I want a full head of hair on my official photograph."

"The people of Hann know that's not authentic, sir!"

"Remember where we are, Lake!" countered Pargo angrily. "Nibble my nutsack, man. If you think the disturbed fuckers who visit this vile wanton lump of rock are perverts and pissheads, you should see the six-fingered shitehawks who choose to live here! They want authenticity about as much as they want a fresh set of clothes and a job interview."

"But..."

"No buts, son! You're fired! And tell whoever replaces you that the next time I see a photograph of myself to be used in the race for mayor of this dump I expect it to have more hair than a witch's minge!"

Oxbo Lake turned to gather up the eschewed images and stuff them back into an oversized leather pouch, inwardly cursing the day he'd chosen politics over sociology as his college major. He should have ignored the cute smile of the guy behind the recruiting desk.

As he was zipping the pouch closed the office door burst open and a red-faced desk sergeant charged in.

"Chief Pargo, sir!" he blustered. "We got ourselves a hostage situation down at the Blue Diamond Casino. Some nasty bastard started shootin' up the place, and now he's locked the doors and won't let anyone in or out!"

Pargo held the flame of the match he had just struck on inch from the tip of his cigar. Pushing the

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