Art & Inspiration Read All About It!! Axle is at it again!!

Axle Spline #2</O
The air was thick with diesel exhaust, as I pulled into the hot bed of activity at the truck terminal. The cops had been there for an hour or so before I got the call from my pal at the paper. The guy had been dead for several hours and he was beginning to stink like it, his paint was starting to peel. <O</O
The poor fella left 7pedal cars and a wife behind. It was a deliberate highjacking for sure, the way they yanked his batteries out, the air brake hoses thrown through the back window, and the way he was rammed repeatedly into the dock. They did not want this guy talking. They were after one thing and one thing only, the load in the trailer. It was highly valuable; and popular too. This stuff was going straight to the black market, a whole load of automobile air fresheners, tire valve dice, and toilet seat covers for steering wheels. <O</O
I’ll catch the *******s all right, I'm Axle Spline - Private Eye, and I love capers like this.<O</O
It was 4:07 a.m. when I got a call from the trucking outfit that lost the load to the hoodlums. They were not going to take this kind of **** from the likes of small-time hooligans sitting down. I said I wouldn’t touch the case with a sterilized fork without 5 grand up front and expenses, they agreed. They were really pissed off over losing one of their best tractors, Franky Louvers the way they did. <O</O
I left my office, went right out onto the streets, to start my investigation. <O</O
First I went over to the Door Latch Café and hung out, looking innocently at all the hoods that hang out in the place. I couldn't help but overhear one saying something about last night’s heist. The guy he was talking to was a big fella, probably had a bus somewhere in the family. His headlights were crooked, and I couldn't tell which one was looking at me. My mother always told me never to stare, but this guy was goofy looking, he looked like a cross between a city bus and an English taxi. The strangest thing I’ve ever seen. I continued listening, as they talked about the caper. The big guy didn’t have much to say he just nodded occasionally and would agree with what the other guy said. Pretty soon the big guy got up and left the café. It was 5:30 a.m. and not much came from the conversation except one thing, the heavy interest the guy had in it that was still sitting in the booth. Just then, another guy waltz’s in and sits down across from the guy in the booth. He wasn’t funny looking like the first guy; he was a big mean looking sedan. They start talking about the heist, and then the one guy that had been there awhile started to whisper quietly to the other and before I know it, I can't hear anything. The guy that was in the booth all the time was some kind of liaison for the gang because he seemed to be relaying orders to the others that came into the café. I did get a few things wrote down, and that was better than a poke in the head light with a sharp screwdriver.<O</O
That afternoon, I decided to go see my pal Slappy Babbitt over at the Elite Billiard Parlor. I rolled in and let my headlights get accustomed to the dim lighting in the place. There at the bar, on his favorite stool was the bum sipping his booze like it was his last one. I parked next to him, bought us a round, and began the conversation. “Well, Slappy, have you heard the word on the street about the hijacking job over at the truck terminal?” <O</O
“Oh, yeah, man, that was sad, I knew Franky Louvers and I thought he was a nice fella, too bad he got scragged, huh?” <O</O
“Yeah, say, you haven’t heard anything about the caper have ya?” I inquire.<O</O
“Well not yet, but if I do, I’ll keep you informed. Maybe we can crack this one together, eh Axle?” he asked hopefully.<O</O
“Yeah, Slappy, maybe so.” I bought him another shot of carb cleaner and left the place for parts unknown. <O</O
The trucking company was known for transporting important stuff before, but nothing like this had ever happened. This told me one thing for sure, that this was an out of town heist. The goons that were pulling all the ropes were from another town and wanted it to look like an amateur job. They knew that a real pro wouldn’t do the things that they did to Franky, poor Franky. <O</O

 

Ummm, ok?

 

ya need some art to go along with these