Entertaining Mr. Sloane

[David Stafford]

So I'm following this guy out of DeVillo's Parking Garage. Some Eldorado or somethin' I dunno. Maybe it was a Monte Carlo? All cars look alike to me. Anyway, he's stopped waiting for traffic and I'm readin' the license plate...except, it's not really a license plate...I guess it's a bumper sticker. Anyway, I can't believe it....I see this name Richard Canard....yeah, that guy. Only it's not him...it's a fake....FO REAL...Faux REECHARD. What are the odds? I don't know what to do so I start honkin' and he thinks I'm gettin' impatient. I can see his head twistin' around and gettin' agitated so I yelled "Canard! Canard!" but he think's I'm sayin' 'Retard Retard'. It went downhill from there. Never did find out what it meant.

[vizma bruns]

Richard Canard. Dick Duck.

 

[De Villo Sloan]

This is David Stafford's generosity - I send 16 words. Here in return I find well over 100, and they read the way Raymond Chandler should have done it.

I'm slightly confused because Vizma just posted a comment about the "Spotted Dick" mail-art Ficus sent. David is writing about thinking he has spotted Dick's name on a license plate. A private dick.

For the FAKE RICHARD CANARD SERIES, I've had to live like Richard and think like Richard. Who would Richard write to? What would he say? (Ray did a lot for the backstroke. It was the form he chose for his final performance, paddling out into the ocean yet seeming to wave goodbye as witnesses reported...)

Thanks, David. I'm just another chewed up piece of gum worn into the pavement of these mean streets looking for a comeback with just a crazy dream. Thanks for giving me that shot, man.