Mr. C. Cow was just a drugstore cowboy. Always looking for a dolled up dame with nice gams.
Tipsy was out giving the bum rush to some hood causing trouble at the juice joint.
Today we visited a private investigators office to figure out what happen to Mr. C. Cow’s apple pie. A detective made the lil cow feel better about finding out who swiped the pie. It made me constantly want to speak in 1920’s slang.
The pie had been cooling on the camper window when it went missing. All that was left was a few crumbs and a brown feather. There are three things in this world that can make a cow cry uncontrollably. Soap operas, missing baked goods, and finding go-go boots that will fit a cow hoof. The crying lasted for hours and I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s how we ended up with me speaking in 1920’s slang in an investigators office.
The detective was very understanding and wiped away those sad cow tears. While I read a magazine they deducted that the pie was stolen by Mr. C. Cow’s duck friend “Quackers”. Quackers had an issue with food boundaries and had been getting help for quite sometime. Looks like Quackers had fallen off the wagon! There was much apologizing, forgiving, and promising of future pies.
I wonder if this is the first time this detective has had to deal with missing pies, cows, ducks, and an otter speaking 1920’s slang.
Location: Alva Investigations (M)