Flynn Stone Private Detective
The Continuing Story of Flynn Stone Private Detective The life of a gumshoe in this God forsaken hell hole isn't what it used to be. Living the high life of nightly jaunts to the Nopa Cabana for sleazy whiskey and watered down women are over. These days it's stagger into the Wishing Well Saloon for loose wine and boxed women. Then it happened. Someone walked into my cracker box office besides that pesky landlord Peski. My new customer had a face that could stop a clock and body that could stop a train. Her legs went all the way up and made an ass out of themselves. A surgically enhanced one at that. She had jealous eyes. They were looking at each other. She told me her name with all the confidence of a best in show Boston crab on New Years Day. "I'm Liza Lott" she said with the pride of a lion with a fresh high top fade on Flag Day. She'd heard about me from the ditsy police station receptionist Ditzi. Thinking to myself I thought "What's a...