Bizarroville

Det. A. Mazing

He stared at the bottom of his glass, his head resting on the table. He admired the way the light played with the dreaded liquid and sighed. His ghastly Frappuccino stood untouched, mocking him, daring him. This was harder than he thought it would be. The smell of iced coffee tempted him in ways that could not be described. He dreaded its taste and craved for a sip. He longed for the occasional brain freeze, the sour yet undeniably sweet flavour, the feeling of his fingers getting numb while holding the cold glass, the rush the caffeine provided, and the clarity of mind he got after just a few sips.

He knew he was incomplete without it. So he stood up and walked away, leaving his perfectly intact Frappuccino on the table.

"When I don't need it, then I can have it." He muttered to himself as he walked out into a cold winter morning.

He put up his collar and walked away from the despicable place of temptation, otherwise known as Starbucks. As he walked, images of coffee beans being roasted and grounded and brewed crossed his mind. He remembered that one trip he'd taken to Colombia, how the sweet, rich earth felt under his feet as he walked through the coffee plantation. How sweet the bean tasted right from the tree. How richer the smell became once the bean was roasted, and how that dark smell seemed to haunt him to this day.

Before realising it, his feet turned around, taking him back to heaven, to that dear Frappuccino that might still be waiting for him at the table.

'No,' he thought to himself as he stopped. 'I will not be sucked back into that vice. For Sarah's sake, I won't.'

Sarah. Just the thought of her was enough to drive the demons away. He thought of her eyes, the smell of her hair, and the look of disappointment she would give him if he went back and drank that Frappuccino.
He was doing this for her. He had to do it right. He forced his feet once more to take him home. With the image of his wife present in his mind, it turned out that it wasn't so hard.

He dragged his feet up the stairs and through his front door, where he encountered his wife pouring a cup of tea to

"Stan?!" He exclaimed when he saw his old friend sitting on his couch, "what the hell are you doing here?"

"Hello Amadeus," Stan said, "It is imperative that we have a talk."

Amadeus looked from his wife to his friend and back again, but with his brain muddled from lack of caffeine, it took him a moment to realise what Stan wanted him to do.

"No!" He yelled, "I will not go back, Stanley! I can't go back," he looked to his wife for support, but she just looked away, "Not now. Not when I'm so close to beating this thing."

"Look, Addy," Stan said, "we really need you to do this. This guy is ruthless. He's taken four lives already, and he isn't gonna stop anytime soon."

"Please leave, Stan. I'm done with that and you know it. I enjoy giving parking tickets, I really do. So please, just-"

"Oh gimme a break!" Stan interrupted, "You have a gift that allows you to save people's lives. You're wasting yourself away giving parking tickets! Don't you wanna do something good for once?"

"Don't talk to me about good! For my sake and wife's, I can't go back to being a detective. You know it almost killed me!"

"Addy," Stan continued, "you could start with decaf! You don't need to drink an espresso right away, I hear decaf is just as good–"

"Just as good?!" Amadeus interrupted, his face getting red. "Just as good?! Your socks taste just as good as an espresso!"

"I'm looking for options here, Amadeus."

"Damn it, Stan!" Amadeus cried, "I had two heart attacks last year alone! Two!" He sat down and sighed. "You think I don't want to help? You think I'm doing rehab just for my health? I go into Starbucks every single day so that when the time comes, I don't get sucked back into that filthy addiction. I listen to police radio every minute of the day, I follow each case as closely as I can. But I can't help without caffeine. And I'm not drinking any coffee until I'm sure I can handle it."

"Addy," Stan said, a bit more gently, "When you're on caffeine you put Sherlock Holmes to shame. You know I wouldn't be here unless I ran out of options. And I have, Amadeus. I have. I need Detective Amazing. These girls," he said as he placed pictures of the victims on the living room table, "and their families need you."

Amadeus looked away from their dead eyes. "You shouldn't have come here." He muttered.

Stan rose, defeated. He looked towards Sarah and said, "Please talk some sense into him. I'll leave you the file, in case you change your mind." Then he left.

Amadeus scoffed. "The nerve of him. Fat lot of good you did just now. You've been pestering me about keeping away from police work for months, why the hell didn't you say anything? You know how close I came to giving in? To going back? Huh?"

Sarah looked at him, and he thought he saw a tear, but lack of caffeine sometimes made him imagine stuff.

"I think you should." She said to him.

He was stunned for a minute. "What?"

"I think you should go back. You belong there, solving murders, catching bad guys. It's what you were born to do. Stan is right, you know. You are the best detective there's ever been. So what if you need caffeine first? You do it for the greater good. You do it for our safety. For those that are gone and those that are at risk. Anybody can give out parking tickets. But you're not anybody. You're better than most of us and you want to do good. You should."

Amadeus was unable to speak. When had she changed her mind?

"But... What about us? I-uh... I lost my hair once because of this... Thing!"

Sarah smiled sweetly at him. "I think baldness makes you look sort of... Intriguing. And badass. Definitely badass. Honey, we'll get through this, one step at a time, we'll both work on this. Let's start slow. A quick glance over this file with some coffee sweets. And then we'll see how it goes."

Amadeus gulped. "Are-um... Are you sure about this?"

"Like I said, you were made for this. And as your wife, I want to see you prosper. I know that we can do this, together."

"But... What if I lose it? What if I lose control?"

"Addy, it's just a few sweets. I'll be here for you, in any case. Don't worry, it'll be fine. Now let's catch the bastard who did this."

And catch him they did.