Case of the Half-Eaten Chicken

Chapter 2: Fluffy

Many years have passed since my first mystery, now I work at an old salon. Mr. Fluffy and I are still best friends, we've been with each other a long time. That reminds me of the time I first met Mr. Fluffy. It all started when I wanted a pet one day........
I won't get all into that stuff, let's focus more on this story I'm telling you right now. The salon I work at is called "Fabulous Stuff." It is located on Ferry Street in London. Mr. Fluffy sits with me while I work, though sometimes he goes out and roams the city. I get many customers throughout the day, mostly on Saturdays. One day, a very strange customer came in. He was around my age, twenty-five. He wore sunglasses, a golfer hat, and a plaid sweater vest.
"Hello," he said, "my name is Blane, I just came for a......." He looked around. "Uh, haircut." He acted rather suspicious. I told him to sit down, and I got to work. "Just a trim." He told me.
When he was sitting, Mr. Fluffy kept pouncing on him and scratching. I would have to tell him to stop and drag him off of Blane. I don't know why, but Fluffy didn't act like he really liked this man. "Fluffy, be nice!" I told him sternly. Blane looked funny at the cat. "He's not very nice is he?"
"I'm sorry sir, he's usually not like this," I apologized.
"No, it's okay," he told me sadly, "animals tend to not like me much."
We didn't talk much the rest of his visit. There was something strange about this man, I just couldn't put my finger on it. "You know, London is very beautiful," said Blane. I wondered why he brought that up? "Yes, it is very beautiful. I've lived here my whole life, never have been anywhere else." I told him. "Well, I've been to ten countries."
"Really? And what are those?"
He thought for a moment. "There's.... China, Japan, Russia, America, Peru, Brazil, Canada, Spain, Australia, and Madagascar. Well, actually, including England, it's eleven."
"Wow, you've seen a lot haven't you?" I asked.
"Ah, yes. I came here because I......" He seemed to think for a moment. ".......have a, JOB INTERVIEW! Yes, a job interview."
"Where?"
"Well......" He looked around the room, "I'm getting a job at a," he looked at Fluffy, "pet....." He looked around the salon. "Salon. A pet salon."
"Oh really?" I asked in disbelief. "What's this, 'pet salon,' called?"
"Um...... Pets Groomed at this Awesome Place are.... Really Cool Pets and Should Come More Often because we Love Money. That's what it is called."
I seemed to think about this pet salon, and wondered why he made this up. "Look," I said, "why do you have to lie?"
"I'M NOT LYING, I YELL AND SWEAT WHEN I LIE!" I laughed. "You're yelling."
"BUT, I'M NOT SWEATING!"
I observed his soaked sweater vest. "Not sweating?" I said. "You look like you just swam across the Pacific! I really don't know why you just can't be hon-" My attention fell to a metallic bracelet on his wrist. I recognize that bracelet anywhere.
When I was little, there was this soy (oops, I meant spy,) show I watched. It was about an agency called the A.B.S.O.S.S. (Agency of Being Secret and Other Secret Stuff.) The best agent was named Agent I. Needa. Needa was a super cool guy who could solve any mystery and spy on the most dangerous criminals. The show was based off of a real thing. The agents in the show always wore those bracelets. Ironic kinda, that could blow their cover.
"You're in the A.B.S.O.S.S, aren't you?"
Blane's face grew paler than a scared ghost. "What? No! I'm in the opposite of, A.B.S.O, whatever it is that you were saying! I'm in the pet salon, remember?"
"So, the so called, 'pet salon,' makes you wear a metallic bracelet that says A.B.S.O.S.S?" Blane looked around nervously. "Yes."
"Maybe I should go to Pets Groomed at this Awesome Place are Really Cool Pets and Should Come More Often because we Love Money, and ask for a job, and get one of those fancy pansy bracelets." I threatened. "Where is Pets Groomed at this Awesome Place are Really Cool Pets and Should Come More Often because we Love Money?"
"Wow, I'm surprised you remember that long name I made up."
"Yeah, runs in my famil- wait, what?" I pretended to be surprised.
"Okay, okay. I am a secret agent....." Blane admitted. "Well, now that the cat's out of the bag, which is a cruel-sounding metaphor, let me tell you why I'm here."
He explained how the A.B.S.O.S.S was on an important mission which involved sandwiches. He said that a masked criminal is stealing all of the world's sandwich supplies such as turkey, balogna, cheese, and bread. The criminal is planning on holding the sandwiches ransom. If world leaders don't give up their power to him, he'll burn all the sandwiches.
"Wow...... So it's your job to go into the battlefield and save Earth's valuable sandwiches?" I asked.
"Actually, no. I'm just an intern, and if the boss finds out I told you....... I'll get the boot. Literally, he's got a foul-smelling, old torn boot he found in the creek."
"Well, I've always wanted to be a hero. Maybe, I could sneak in and pretend to be an agent?" I asked.
"Well, no. It's probably too risky. I mean, you might get caught!"
"Don't worry, I'll lay low."
"What if a guard asks to see your A.B.S.O.S.S license?"
I thought, then remembered the license I colored and drew in kindergarten. I always carried it with me for some reason, I don't know why. "Got one right here."
Blane thought, probably regretting what he had just gotten himself into. "Okay, I'll take you. On ONE condition."
"What?"
"You give me a better haircut than this." He looked at himself in the mirror.
And so I finished his haircut. When I finished, he looked back in the mirror and nodded. "So, what's your name?" He asked me.
"Melody. My name is Melody."
"Okay, follow me outside and we'll get into my jet."
"JET?!" I started to get excited.
"Yup, it's just outside."