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This year's original 20-chapter story is called Big Shot.
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And remember, comedy forecast is all one word, with the number 4.
Now, here's Chapter 13, Trouble Finds Detective Hart.
Music.
Previously in our story, Cap relayed as best he could
could the phone conversation he overheard coming from a room at the
Venus Arms Hotel and Towers. The voice was that of the mysterious stranger who
is in town searching for Danny Hillcrest. He said that even if Danny's hiding he's
gonna find him and take care of him and if there are any witnesses he'll take
care of them too. That did not sound like good news for Danny but it was not
enough evidence to take to the police. Detective Haartte, still full of himself after his work
on the case of the waffle batter sphere, offered a solution.
Why don't I shadow this guy and see what's up? My professional opinion is it's nothing,
but it'll help me keep my sleuthing skills in peak condition and ready for a real case.
As this chapter begins, Detective Haartte is sitting with the stranger at Caprica Coffee,
But the stranger has turned the tables, asking Haartte if he knows Danny Hillcrest.
Listen, I ask the questions around here. Oh? The name's Haartte.
Detective Haartte. Two A's, two T's, spell it right.
Say it right. Detective?
You may be the perfect person to help me. Maybe we can work out an arrangement.
But first, what do you know about Danny? Plenty. I grew up far away from here, on the mean streets of the city.
I don't see what that has to do with- Oh sure, the name of the place was Sunshine, but it had its dark side too.
For one thing, they jumped the gun on single stream recycling by two whole days!
It was madness! Again, not sure how- I had to get out. So I hopped a freight train and made my way here to the valley.
Chasm Valley, that is. At first, I tried my hand at being a cop.
Can you imagine me a cop?
I don't really know you, so... But it wasn't long before I had a falling out with the department.
Apparently people in this town don't need parking permits for their own driveways.
Pretty fancy. But I was a loose cannon who played by my own rules. Cannon rules. And the third time I tagged his car the chief asked me to turn in my pen and my pad.
And my gun and my badge And the uniform they never mentioned you have to turn in the uniform do they and I used to wear it to work,
So I had to go home in my underwear That's when I decided to strike out on my own and become Middling Fair's first private
eye.
The only problem was, this town isn't big on crime.
Except in April. Yeah, then this whole town is like some kind of purge.
But 30 days of mayhem can't pay the rent all year.
The bills were piling up while I just sat there working on my statement of purpose.
Let's see what I've got.
I promised to provide everyone in town with my detective services.
Nailed it. I sure did, but things were still looking grim until that fateful knock on the door
of my apartment. Office. Totally separate place.
And not in an illegal use of a living space. Who said otherwise? Who's there?
If you're a bill collector, you have to tell me.
It's the law. Nope. Hi! Danny Hillcrest here. A client. Come on in!
I love it! Ooh, do I smell yesterday's day-old Chinese leftovers?
Sorry, the flat's a bit messy.
I mean the office. I don't know why people keep calling it an apartment.
What can I do for you, Mr. Hillcrest? Oh, you can call me Danny.
My father's name is Mr. Hillcrest, which is an oddly weird first name.
But so is L'il.
Now, if you're going to openly dilate my eyes, I brought these buckshades to protect me afterwards.
Is this pull-out bed the exam chair? Do you mind if we start over again from the beginning? Abso-yes-ly.
Do you need me to go back outside the door?
Look, you knocked on my apart-office, why do you need a private detective? I give up, why do I?
Wow, this is the oddest eye exam I've ever had, and I once had one on a catamaran.
Is that the eye chart in your hand? No, it's my statement of purpose.
It was like everything in the room was another cat toy to distract him,
and I didn't know if he was house trained.
I folded the paper and put it in my jacket. Eye exam.
I don't... Oh!
I get it. Listen, Danny. I'm not an optometrist. Oh, that's okay.
Everyone has their own path to heaven can wait.
I'm a private investigator. A sleuth. A Shamus. A private dick.
Wow. That was an awkward one to end on. I think it's time for you to leave.
I will take your word for that, because I can't see my watch without my glasses.
Here's a quick observation.
You're not wearing a watch. Of course I'm not.
It's at the jewelry store, getting repairingly fixed. Maybe you should go pick it up. I love it.
Oh wait, the jewelry store. The owner was talkingly telling me that something had just been stolen.
He was all upset, but he said he didn't want to bring it to the police.
Maybe his office is as messy as your apartment. Office.
Where is this jewelry store? You just go down the street until you want to turn left.
Then it's about two blocks after that street that sounds like the name of my old pet turtle.
So I strolled over to the jewelry store and I found the owner,
a Mr. Wilbert Dunn, in a mild panic.
Yes, Detective Hart, I do need some help. Can you be discreet?
Discretion is my middle name.
Just don't ask me to produce ID to prove it.
What happened? A few months ago, Miss Abby Falmacher, owner of the Venus Arms Hotel in the Towers
and the Little Wicker Basket Company, Little Wicker Baskets, they're everywhere,
came to me to act as her agent.
She wanted to commission the sculpting of an exact replica of the Venus de Milo statue for her hotel.
And why would this woman do an insane thing like that?
Oh, it's well known that Miss Fallmacher called dibs in case the statue's arms are ever located.
She has a glass display case right there in the lobby, waiting for them.
I don't think that's how it works. A skilled Italian artist sculpted a beautiful replica.
He sent me a photograph. Here, have a look.
Yes, so tell me, you keep a lot of nudie pictures handy Dunn?
What? No, that's the statue. Then he had it shipped here to the store for inspection.
Two delivery people put it on the loading dock out back.
Even though I always add place on front step to the instructions.
No one ever reads my notes. Okay, you're all set. What's the problem?
Because the statue is missing.
And I don't want to involve the police because I'm sure word would get back to Miss Fallmacher.
I need this matter kept quiet.
All right, I'll take the case.
I charge $50 a day plus expenses. $50? That's not a lot.
If it was good enough for Jim Rockford, it's good enough for me.
But you need to account for inflation. That was in, what, the 1970s? NOW!
Assuming a flat 4% cost of living increase every year, since the- You go ahead and work on that, Poindexter.
Meanwhile, I'm going back to my office to get some equipment.
Hey, I didn't call up my apartment.
B-because it's not! Who said it was? Shut up! Can Haartte locate the statue?
And what does all this have to do with finding Danny?
For finely sculpted answers, be sure to come back for Chapter 14,
What's past is dialogue.
If you liked the show, please help spread the word by sharing it on social media, maybe even right now.
You're this show's greatest media influencer. In this episode, as the stranger, Grant Johnson, voicegranted.com, and the narrator was played
by Gary J. Chambers, garyjchambersvo.com.
Additional voices, as well as story and music, by Clinton Alvord.
Copyright 2023. All rights reserved.
See you next time! But for now, that's it. We're done done done done done!
Bye bye. Music.