Murder in the City of Film

I: The Beginning

"Monday! Nobody likes it! People are going to start to call about home invasions!" It's a sunny Monday morning in Hollywood, California on February 24, 2018. This is rare because these past few weeks have been cloudy with about two hours of sunlight every day, mainly scattered during the afternoon.

"I don't even know why I wake up anymore! Wait, where'd I put my toothbrush again? Oh, there it is. But still! At least five cases a week because everybody is off at work!"

This man is Detective Luis Jenkins. He has been a private investigator or detective, whatever you call it. "Investigator." Thanks, wait, shouldn't you be narrating your own story? "Oh yeah, bye" He's gonna be a problem and it's too early for a fourth wall break. Anyway! He has hired three new people who will possibly become his assistants if they do well on their first case.

"These newbies better do good! Each case lasts three weeks on average."

Detective Luis Jenkins-. "Investigator!" Narrate your own story! Sorry about him. Luis Jenkins is 6'1", average weight, and has an okay attitude. He lives above his office for a reason only he knows. He is very reticent about his personal life.

Meanwhile, in Beverly Hills, live two brothers, Joe and Arel who were both hired by Jenkins.

"Hurry Up Arel! We're gonna be late!' yelled Joe.

"I gotta feed the birds! Where'd you put the bird seed?" Arel yelled back.

"In the cabinet with the canned food!"

"Found it! Hey, where is this guy's place anyway?"

"Hollywood! Hurry up man, we gotta go."

"Hold on, give me a second dude. Not my fault you bought a small car only you can fit in. I'm taller than you, don't forget."

"Stop complaining! Let's go."

All the way in the San Fernando Valley, lives a family man, Karl, who was also hired by Jenkins. He lives with his wife and two kids in Burbank.

"Do good honey. Don't get killed," joked his wife, Darlene.

"I don't work for NCIS. They have died already," replied Karl.

"Oh yeah, my bad."

"Yeah. Anyway, gotta go!"

"Bye, daddy!" said his two kids who are 4 and 6.

"Found your wedding ring honey!"

"Thanks, I've been looking everywhere for it! Okay! Don't wanna be late! Bye!"

"Bye daddy! Bye!"

As soon as everyone arrives at around 10:00 a.m. They get a call. When Jenkins spoke, it had an interesting turn to it.

"Okay! A dead guy at 7843 Garfield Avenue in Long Beach!" said Jenkins.

"Shit! Isn't that Tom's house?!" Arel worriedly said.

"Oh yeah, and we were there last night and he was pretty jubilant when we were there," said Joe.

"Son of a----"

All four were on their way there while Arel and Joe were worried, anxious, minds raced, what happened to their affluent college friend? They hoped it was another house and the caller didn't know the address. But no. They saw police tape surrounding 7843 Garfield Avenue, home to college friend of Joe and Arel and famous actor Thomas Wierksy's home. Their hearts sank, Arel tried to run inside and was immediately held back by Joe, Jenkins, and some FBI crew.

"NO! NO! WHY HIM! IT'S JUST A DREAM! PLEASE WAKE UP! TOM! WAKE UP PLEASE! WHY HIM! WHO WANTED TO HURT TOM? WHO?! I'LL KILL HIS ASS! I'LL FIND WHO DID THIS SHIT AND KILL THAT MOTHERFUCKER. THAT BITCH WILL PAY FOR WHAT HE DID! THAT FUCKER WILL PAY!" yelled Arel who was still trying to break free.

"Where's his brother Zeke?" asked Joe.

"He has a brother?" confusedly said Jenkins.

"Yeah, he does."

"He should've heard and been here by now."

"I wonder why."

"Yeah, that's fucking weird."

This had gotten to Karl because when he was 14, his father passed away and at his funeral, he had done the same thing. They had to put Arel in the car with child lock so he wouldn't get out. Karl opened the door, got in the car, told Arel his story, and they both cried together.