"Yes shit, Sherlock."
It all begins on Saturday where Justkidding was acting peculiar. She had told me she was going to Los Angeles the following week for a film "conference" with her "husband" and I "nodded" okay.
"Stop doing that with your fingers," Justkidding said.
"'"Sorry,"'" I said.
When the day ended, Justkidding came over to me and tried to give me an awkward hug.
"I always sort of liked you, Greg," she said, weirdly emotional. She gave my arm a squeeze. "Despite your raging racism."
"Uh, okay. I'm going to set the security now."
In the confusion of leaving that day I didn't pay as much attention to the clues as I should have--especially since I was pretending to be a dick for this post. We all stumbled out into the wintry dark, going for our cars and longboards. Justkidding looked back at me. I waved and ducked into my whatever car Sherlock Holmes would drive. At home I ruminated and ratiocinated and continued to suck on my meerschaum, coughing violently.
What did Justkidding mean by, I always sort of liked you, Greg?
Hmmmmmmm.
When I got into work on Monday, I decided to do a little detective work. I went up to Jonah who was busy destroying Christmas.
"Die, fucker."
"Hey, Jonah, excuse me, uh... Is Justkidding leaving?'
"Oh most definitely she is."
"Ah."
I put down my meerschaum. My work was done here.
Jonah put down the tree. As he brushed off needles, he told me in strict confidence that Justkidding had been crying last week. He'd gone by her to help a customer and saw her on the phone weeping.
"So you think she was sad," I said tensely.
"You could say that," Jonah said cagily.
"What else do you remember?" I said sleepily.
"That'll cost you."
"Yeah? Will this taquito lubricate your memory stick?"
"Uh... What?"
"Here, take this cheeseburger I found. Now tell me everything!"
"She said..." Jonah tore into the wet meat. "Mm. Mmgh. I shouldn't be telling you this. You're the biggest blabbermouth around."
"No, no, you can trust me. Go on. Have another patty."
"Well, she told me she was quitting. She was gone."
"She said that in so many words?"
"Well, more words than that. Now, do you have another cheeseburger? It's the perfect synthesis of meat and murder."
I went off, hunting for more clues. Justkidding's basket was empty and her locker--normally as stuffed as a German peasant on Whitsuntide--was eerily empty as well. What the hell? Was it possible she just absquatulated without telling anyone officially? I stroked my sadly phantom beard. The pieces were all starting to come together in a neat little package. Sorry if that sounded sarcastic.
I was having a thought balloon of Justkidding squeezing my arm valetudinally, her eyes brimming, when Todd popped the balloon.
"What's going on?" he yelled.
I reviewed the case. I told him that all the evidence was pointing toward Justkidding being gone forever.
"Are you kidding?"
"We never kid here. Just kidding."
Todd let out a savage shout of triumph, and then rushed over to put out Justkidding's tiki torch. I grabbed his arm.
"Whoa, whoa! Let's wait until we get all the facts!"
"Fuck that."
The torch was put out. Smoke weaved in the air.
We watched it poignantly, and then went to commercial break. After the fire department came and left, I had time to reminisce about all the good times over the last two years. I could even hear her voice in my mind grapes.
"You are trash," said the echoing voice. And it laughed. And laughed.
Trash, trash, trash.....
Racccccc-ist.
Ave atque vale, Justkidding!
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