O' Halloran keeps tight against the corner wall. He juts his fat head out and has a quick look around. No sign of anyone. The coast is clear. He signals to Doris and they both move across the road and crouch behind a cart.
"Are you sure this evil bastard drinks here?"
"Oui, O' Halloran. This is the place", she whispers.
"I gotta tell ya: I really think you are a ride", he says quite inappropriately considering they are on a stakeout at the lodgings of a time-traveling serial killer.
"I know. I am…how you say?…sexually voracious!", she says batting her eyelids.
Yep. A fucking ride of a woman if ever he saw one.
Hold on! There's movement inside.
"Here he comes now, O' Halloran", she points to the door as a figure emerges and hops on a horse and rides off.
"Shit! Too late! If only my donkey was still alive we could follow him", curses O' Halloran at the missed opportunity. He withdraws his water pistol and re-holsters it.
"I'll get you next time, mysterious prick….", he pledges.
"Don't fret, O' Halloran. You can ride me", she offers.
"Baby, you're insatiable!", he grins.
"No. You misunderstand. I mean you can ride upon my back as if I am a horse. Come!", she ushers as she reveals that she is saddled up and ready to go.
O' Halloran mounts her (not for the first time and certainly not the last time in this shitty story), and rearing up on her legs she gives a whinny then gallops off in pursuit of the dastardly villain.
"Ride like the wind, sweet-cheeks. Ride like you've never been rode before!!!", he cheers as they catch up on their prey.
The short little bastard murderer stops at an inn named 'Le Coq Grande', dismounts and enters via a back passage (ooo-er!)
O' Halloran and his ride arrive seconds later and follow inside.
The place is dark and smokey with no windows and a pre-neon version of that lighting style. The joint is full of dandies: a heavily stubbled, Stetson-wearing Desperate Dan sits by the bar eating a cow pie; Beryl the Peril propositions some other children's comic book character for sex.
"Keep close to me, titty-features", O' Halloran instructs as he takes Doris' hand and they slide into a corner booth overlooking the bar.
A strung-out string quartet is set up in the far corner playing a version of Frankie Goes To Hollywood's Christmas classic 'The Power of Love'.
A gay bar: French style.
O' Halloran knows these places well. Who would have believed that French people could be gay?
The short psycho-killer re-emerges from the toilets zipping up his zipper and wipes something from his lips. As he walks past, O' Halloran makes a grab for him and drags him into their booth and covers his mouth:
"One word out of you, cocksucker, and I'll snap your spine in seven places. Kapeesh?!!", he threatens through gritted teeth.
The little fucker nods his understanding: apparently every French person in this story is also fluent in English, particularly sub-American pulp novel dialogue such as 'Kapeesh'.
O' Halloran removes his hand from the man's face. The little prick looks up at him with a wry grin across his stupid face. He's about 40-ish, with delicate nostrils and tight lips and a double chin. A real French bastard if ever he'd seen one, O' Halloran thinks.
"Detective O' 'alloran. I 'ope yoooo will forgive meeeee for killing your partner and former love-interest from PsychoTown and the fist few chapters of deeez story?", he smugly speaks as only a smug French bastard can speak.
O' Halloran has to control himself from snapping that little shit's neck but he knows he needs to find out how to close the time warp and stop any future killings…in the past (this is not as confusing as it reads, honest!)
"You're going to close down the time tunnel and then I'm gonna personally beat seven shades of shit out of you, you midget French fuck!", he spits.
But the French bastard just laughs like a smug French bastard.
"Haw haw haw haw! O ' 'alloran, you silly man. You cannot stop what eeez 'appening".
"Shut up speaking phonetically and just tell me how to stop this murderous rampage!!!", O' Halloran snaps back.
The little French bastard then eyes up Doris.
"Yooo are very boootiful ladeeee. I would very much like to make love to yooooo…."
Doris slaps the little prick in the face.
"I would never make sweet romantic love to a peeeg like yoooo!"
The French midget laughs again and then adds: "Oh baby, yooo will be mine, I promise yooo dat!"
O' Halloran intervenes with a subtle grab of the midgets balls and a tight twisting of his crown jewels.
"This stops now, perp! The killing, the time travel, the phonetical spelling of phoney French accents…everything, ya hear?"
Outside the inn, O' Halloran ties the French midget up and loads him onto Dors and they then ride off back to her place.
Inside, O' Halloran sets about torturing the midget to get the info he needs. First he sends Doris off. She shouldn't have to witness this. Besides she wanted to have a bit of a lady wank and nows the perfect time to catch up ion some of that 'personal time'.
Then he straps the dude in a Lois XIV chair with delicate gold trim and pours some oil over him. Next he pulls back the curtain to reveal the same strung-out string quartet from 'Le Coq Grande'.
"One way or the other, mister, you're gonna talk."
He pulls out a knife and then gives the signal t the string quartet to start playing 'Relax'.
"Relax! Don't do it!..", O' Halloran mimes to the lyrics as he circles the now terrified midget French man.
Will O' Halloran get the info he needs or will some unexpected event intervene to fuck up the plot?
Stay tuned fro the next vaguely dramatic chapter to find out!