Satan's Dollar Store & other stories

Dawn Debris in the Land of Many Things

(a comic book without illustrations)(illustrators welcome!)

On a quiet September evening, I amused myself by playing 'Fly Me To The Moon'.

The moon was full and red on the horizon.

Suddenly, I stopped and stood up.

Something is terribly wrong!

I rushed out the door and onto the teeming city sidewalk, where I stood, confused and battered by pedestrians.

I don't know how to play the piano! - What's happening to me?

It all began when Morris Bevelhead showed up at my office at 9 in the morning, on August the 23rd.

"Dawn Debris? The Private Investigator? I need your help!"

I doubted his story immediately. How could someone steal an idea from someone who looked like he'd never even had one. But that's exactly what he claimed had happened.

"I was on my way to FedCorTron. I had an interview all set up with the Old Exec himself, you know, the man who started it all. I was in my car, driving, and suddenly it was gone. My idea was gone!"

"You mean you forgot"

"No! No! Not forgotten! Stolen! Somebody stole my idea!"

He had heard of me through my reputation. I was on a talk show once.

(KID FINDS HERO IN DEBRIS Chatanooga,Tenn.

Three-year old Sammy Delinqua thought he had lost his precious teddy bear forever when fourteen-year old babysitter Sheena Ramone accidentally left it by the garbage cans, where it was subsequently hauled away by the ever competent Sunset Scavengers. His parents, twenty-six year old factory worker Jamie Delinqua and his wife, twenty-three year old Marsha, a becoming blonde with shapely breasts, attempted to console the child with replacement bears, but the boy's behavior became increasingly aberrant and reckless. Unable to tolerate the squalling brat any further, the desperate parents turned to a self-styled private investigator, twenty-nine year old Dawn Debris, a nondescript brunette with scarcely any chest to speak of, who nevertheless has a reputation for recovering lost or stolen articles of dubious or negligible value. Through methods unknown to anyone, including herself, no doubt, Debris was able to locate the missing bear, or at least a facsimile thereof, convincing enough to placate the annoying child. Debris accepted no payment or reward for this effort, except for an invitation to a talk show, which certainly served to enhance her small but amazingly loyal fan base)

"You're the finder of things. Get my idea back!"

Needless to say, I was intrigued. I had found many things before, but never something so insubstantial, so intangible, so obviously nonexistent!

There was the case of the accidentally discarded teddy bear. And the lost necktie.

Not to mention the case of the missing fibula .

(Why wait any longer? get your copy of "Fissure Monroe" today! brought to you by Pigeon Weather Productions. not available in bookstores or newsstands anywhere)

This was entirely different.

"I'll take the case! ...

but first I need to know what the idea was"

"I have no idea! That's the problem."

"Oh, then maybe you can me where you were, exactly, when you first noticed it was missing."