Eddie: The Octopus Stings

Luap Killner,

THE CONCRETE METROPOLIS OF DORTMUND, 1949

AFTER FIGHTING IN DEADLY JUNGLES AGAINST THE AXIS, AFTER HIS DISCHARGE FROM DORTMUND FOR EXPOSING THE CORRUPTION OF HIS FELLOW DETECTIVES, WE JOIN EDDIE OCTO, PRIVATE EYE, IN...

EDDIE: THE OCTOPUS STINGS

“I’ve never seen someone smoke eight cigarettes before,” were the words that glided out of her luscious, shiny lips.

“I can do allot more with my tentacles than smoke, toots,” Eddie said. He ashed his cigarettes. Business time. Not a whole lot of people ended up in his shabby, smelly office and even fewer stayed. The broad had come for a reason, but she wouldn’t say what it was. She expected Eddie to take the bait, and when the bait is so beautiful, any man might falter. But an octopus won’t.

“I know why you’re here. Tip your mitt,” Eddie said.

“I need help -,” she started.

“No you don’t,” Eddie finished.

She went for the gun tucked into the back of her skirt. Eddie was already darting over. Too late. She pointed the gun at Eddie. Blam. Blam. Miss. Miss. Eddie’s rolled up her front now, locking around her head. He has got a tentacle on the gun. Blam. Blam. Miss. Miss. Eddie clamps down and twists on her harm. She drops the gun and falls down, fingernails digging into Eddie’s tentacle. She starts to scream. Eddie shoves a tentacle into her mouth.

“Here’s the news sister. I see you in this town again, I’ll fill you fulla shells. I should kill you right here, right now, but I won’t. It would be a shame to see such a rose wilt before its time. And I don’t blame you. I know Chimp Joe is paying you. So scram, and that will be that.”

He took his tentacle out of her mouth. She stood up and left quietly, closing the door with a grace she didn’t have thirty seconds ago. Hopefully Eddie wouldn’t see her floating in Dortmund currents again, for her sake. He would hate to see such a jewel go before her time. Not that he wouldn’t do it. He just wouldn’t enjoy it. Eddie took her gun and shuffled over to his desk. He opened a drawer. It had twelve other guns in it. None had full magazines. He put her gun with the rest.

“Chimpanzee Joe will have to work harder,” he said to himself and his freshly lit filtered friends. He patted the eight revolvers resting in their slots under his desk.

=====================================================================

His name was Chimpanzee Joe and if you wanted to live you best not forget it. His name was Chimpanzee Joe and he did not share power. His name was Chimpanzee Joe and he had no competition.

His name was Eddie Octo and he was going to take down Chimpanzee Joe. His name was Eddie Octo and he was a blue miniature octopus with tentacles just big enough to pull eight triggers. Enough with the questions… You wanna get chilled off?

His name was Chimpanzee Joe and his pallette craved more than bananas.

=====================================================================

It was that part of the night where every two-bit you saw on the street was fixing to bump someone or about to be bumped themselves. The perfect time for Eddie to spread his wings. The rusted out aluminum-shell diner wasn’t fit for straight customers anymore. That didn’t stop Chimpanzee Joe from shifting fifty grand worth of sweet sweet greenbacks through it every day. The cops didn’t care about the money laundering so long as the payola man came through with a stack of C-notes every week. No one went to the diner anymore. It was a ghost ship drifting through New Stucco manned by ghost people making ghost pancakes and serving ghost orange juice. The perfect place for a ghost octopus to hold court, right under Chimp Joe’s nose. Eddie Octo’s frequent ally and semi-frequent accomplice, Jimmy, was waiting at the diner for him. “Gimme the Gospel kiddo,” Eddie said, settling into a seat that should have been replaced two decades ago. Jimmy was a good kid. Kept his nose clean. Too clean. That was his problem. His other problem was hanging around Eddie. That was more of an occupational hazard every day. “It’s all set to go,” Jimmy said, “All four of us. We’ve got Francis Valenti, the safecracker. We’ve got Soprano the driver and we’ve got Big Easy for muscle. That’s if we’ve got to croak someone.” “I’m sick of croaking,” Eddie said, his eyes out the window, “I want this lay nice and clean. I’ve come a long way. Got bayoneted on an island in ‘44. Fired in 47. Kicking around the drain for so long I’m on a first name basis with each hole. This one grift, we ice off Chimp Joe and fix this city. Fix Dortmund. Then I’m out of the game. Move to the country.” “Me too,” Jimmy said, “I proposed to my moll yesterday. She said yes.” Eddie congratulated him and left. 9:00 P.M tomorrow. That’s when Chimpanzee Joe takes the big sleep.

====================================================================

The car was loaded with everything they needed. Explosives, guns, money. Jimmy, Francis Valenti, the Soprano and Big Easy. For once Eddie Octo had everything he needed. Which was exactly why it was taken from him.

They pulled up in front of Eddie’s office, where he crashed every night. Cheaper than an apartment. He rolled down the stairs, opened the door and looked down at the car twenty feet from his stoop. Jimmy smiled at him from the back seat window. Eddie remembered that image, the last glimpse he ever got of Jimmy. His face was a portrait through the glass. A bright future ahead of him. A loving wife waiting for him at home. That face, that eager look, that brief, fleeting smile Jimmy shot him just as Eddie made eye contact. But Eddie also remembered the explosive hangover that chased the happy picture. The car erupted. All four of his friends incinerated in a Dortmund minute. The broad at the office was Chimp Joe toying with him. This was serious. Eddie watched the car burn. There was no sense wading into the fire. Nothing but crisp and cinder.

Eddie Octo looked up to the sky. It started to rain. The falling droplets reminded him of his home, far away, under an ocean, before he came to fight the Japanese in World War II. The brothers and sisters he had left behind. What were they doing now? Probably something a lot better than this, he thought. And probably they’d live a lot longer too. His strategy so far had left him with nothing. Careful planning and collaboration had ended in combustion.. The smart thing to do would be to lay low, run to ground. But Eddie Octo hadn’t gotten this far by being smart and he sure as hell wasn’t going to break that streak now. Fortune favors the bold, and since fortune had just served him up four crispy friends, Eddie figured the old dame owed him one.

====================================

Chimp Joe was pleased with the five chefs before him. The cook off was a success. “I have called you here for the ultimate cook off. One of you will become fabulously wealthy as my new personal chef. No ingredient will be too expensive, no dish too bizarre. I want to try it all! Impress me.”

Chimpanzee Joe enjoyed the grandstanding. The theatricality. The letting everyone know that he could bump them in a heartbeat.

If Chimpanzee Joe is hungry, he gets the five finest chefs in all of Dortmund. The old tenement building that had once served as a modest base of operations now looked more like a medieval castle, and the king was home Joe was surrounded by heavily armed goons. The five chefs stood by the long table, their creations masked under silver platters. They alternated between fear and excitement. They could just taste that silver spoon in their mouth if, only if, they could impress Chimp Joe. But one chef had checked his anxiety at the door. He couldn’t euthanize the smirk on his face.

“Something funny?” Joe said.

“No sir, nothing at all.”

“Do you find the idea of an ape ruling a city funny?”

“Not at all, sir.”

“Wipe that grin off your mug.”

“I can’t, sir.”

“Ain’t that a shame.”

Chimpanzee Joe nodded to his guards. Two goons grabbed the chef by the arms. He resisted at first, then gave in.

“Let’s see what he had for me.”

Chimp Joe ripped off the cover and flung it off into the corner.

An octopus drenched in sauce layed motionless on the plate. “Octopus. Delicious.” Chimpanzee Joe ran a furry finger along a tentacle, then licked the sauce off it. “If only it were Eddie Octo,” Joe said. His hired thugs laughed on cue.

“Be careful what you wish for,” Eddie said, the .38 in his tentacle.

Blam. He only had time for one shot. Chimp Joe clutched his face and fell. Chimp Joe’s torpedoes didn’t have time to shoot heat before Eddie had blown out the window and lept five stories down. He hit the ground scuttling. The goons ran to the window and gawked downward as Eddie vanished into the concrete jungle.

=====================================================================

Ring. Ring.

“First, Eddie, let me congratulate you on a good grift. You nearly got me.”

“There’s always next time, Joe.”

“I can’t operate in this town looking over my shoulder every day for an octopus trying to daylight me. So I’ve got a deal for you, even though you demolished half my face.”

“I’m listening.”

“I take my assets. I liquidate them. I go somewhere else and do what I’m doing now. Maybe some other kind of ridiculous animal will try to kill me. A squirrel. A dolphin. The life of a crimechimp is never simple. But I’ll be far away from you, so the other half of my head will be safe. Dortmund goes squeaky clean. How’s that sound? Can you settle for that?”

“I can settle for that, Joe.”

“Deal. But if you ever snoop Amherst, Eddie, you scram out or I pop you.”

“Goodbye,” Eddie said. He hung up the phone. Chimp Joe was gone. Dortmund was clean. His work was over. No more assassins making office calls wearing iron trying to send him over. He leaned back in his chair. Time to relax the only way he knew how. The bourbon went down quick but he savored the eight cigarettes.

For more articles by Luap Killner, click here. To get in touch with this writer, email killner.luap@surrealtimes.net.

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