Ace Bandage, Private Eye

Part 1: The W.U.S.S.I.E.S.

By Jake Parks

February 9, 2008

It’s never easy to be a private eye, but that’s what I am. “Ace Bandage, Private
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Eye,” reads the plaque on my door. I like to think of myself as a sphinx1, a person of

mystery. Others think of me as a sphinx as well, but as someone who is difficult to

understand. This could be caused by my incoherent2 speech. How many private eyes do

you know of that require a translator? At least one, now. My translator’s name is Bob.

he’s the one who’s writing this, since my handwriting is worse than my articulation. My

bad articulation is caused by a wound I received when I was embroiled3 in a bitter quibble4

between a well-known weatherman and some union workers. I remember it like it was

only yesterday...

I propped my feet up on my desk, only to hear an enormous rip as my pants tore.

This was very distressing, as the pants were a legacy5 from my great-grandfather Blue

Gene.

“Bob!” I yelled. “Get the duct tape!” Bob was a dog, but he insisted that he was a

human. Since he so obviously believed his embroidery6, I embraced7 the opportunity to

have a dog for an assistant. After all, a dog is man’s best friend and helper, right?

Bob came back with the duct tape and said, “Here you go, master.” He used to

call me Ace, but I wouldn’t have it. Whoever heard of a dog calling its master by his

name? A proper castigation8, or thirty swats with a rolled-up newspaper, soon turned him

around. Bob went outside to visit Mother Nature, and I cursed myself for being so lax9

with my health plan. I stood on my chair, faced the wall, bent over, and was just applying

the duct tape to the large laceration10 in the seat of my pants when I heard a knock on the

door.

1a person or thing that seems mysterious and difficult to understand

2lacking sensible order or connection; unintelligible
3to involve in conflict, or to confuse; complicate
4a petty, or trivial disagreement or objection
5anything inherited or passed down from ancestors or predecessors
6to add to, as with made-up details or exaggerations
7to take up or accept easily, or to include or encompass
8to punish or rebuke, esp. by harsh criticism; chastise
9not strict or careful; lenient
10to rip, maul, tear, mutilate, or mangle
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“Come in,” I yelled because, based on empirical11 evidence, it was Bob returning

from his “visit to Mother Nature.” The empirical evidence was wrong. I heard the door

open, then the gasp of a female voice. Jerking my head around, I found an attractive

brunette standing in the doorway, wearing clothing that would be considered inadequate12

by any decent Mullah. I had just mooned, and was still in the process of mooning, Ima

Looker, daughter of the city’s most proficient weatherman. I reminded myself to acquire a

more vigilant13 watchdog as I turned around and nonchalantly sad down at my desk, as if

mooning the daughters of weathermen was a regularly scheduled activity. “Wednesday, 2

PM: Moon weatherman’s daughter.”

“May I help you?” I asked.

“Are you Ace Bandage, private detective?” She asked.

“No,” said Bob, who had returned from his walk, and incorrectly assumed that Ms.

Looker was addressing him. “He is.”

“I am not! I’m Ace Bandage, Private Eye!” I replied.

“But the sign said you were a private detective,” she stated.

“Well, it was wrong, then, wasn’t it,” I observed.

“So why doesn’t it say, ‘Ace Bandage, Private Eye?’” She politely queried14.

“The company would only put ‘Detective’ on it,” I answered.

“So you’re Ace Bandage, Private Eye, then?” She continued.

“Yes, and this is my dog Bob. He can do all sorts of tricks. Bob, shake!” Bob

extended his hand, and Ms. Looker took it. Bob then lifted her hand to his lips in a formal

greeting.

“No, no!” I screamed. “You’ll get slobber all over her!” I apologized profusely

for my dog’s actions.

11based on experience, observation or fact; objective; pragmatic

12below standard; insufficient
13alert and watchful, esp. for danger
14to ask a question
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“I apologize profusely for my dog’s actions.” She thought it was quite all right,

and proceeded to explain her problem.

“You see,” she began, “My father is a very will-known weatherman. Being a well-

known weatherman, he has amassed quite a fortune for himself. That is the problem, you

see. The local branch of the Weatherman’s Union for social Services and Improved

Economic Standards, or W.U.S.S.I.E.S., has its sights set on my father, or rather, his

fortune. They have no legal claim to his fortune, since he is not a member of the

W.U.S.S.I.E.S., but, carnivores15 that they are, they continue to send emissaries16 to the

station, in hopes that my father will quail17...” It was at this point that she broke down

crying.

“Don’t worry,” I comforted her. “I’ll take care of them.”

“No one can stand up to the W.U.S.S.I.E.S.,” she sobbed.

“Well those W.U.S.S.I.E.S. don’t stand a chance against Ace bandage, Private

Detective!” I announced.

“Eye, master,” supplied Bob.

“Eye!” I corrected. “They don’t stand a chance against Ace Bandage, Private

Eye!”

“Oh, thank you!” She cried, clearing up instantly. “The W.U.S.S.I.E.S. show up

at the station everyday at 3:30 PM. If you leave now you might be able to follow them

back to their secret hideout.”

“Will do, Ms. Looker,” I exclaimed, ever eager to prevent people from vilifying18

my status as a private eye in good standing.

So, at 3:30, I was at the station, pretending to walk my dot to fool the perps, or

evil-doers to the layman19. As Bob was a rather large dog, people eyed him constantly. He

15 a flesh-eating animal, esp. a meat-eating animal

16an agent representing a person or a government, as in negotiations
17to be overcome or cower fearfully; lose heart
18to speak ill of; denounce’ disparage
19an outsider with respect to a particular profession, esp. medicine or law
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didn’t complain about the attention, however; it was the leash he hated.

“Master, I don’t see why I have to wear this leash,” he complained.

“Well, Bob, it’s the city’s law, set forth for the protection of dogs and people, and

you have to wear it, so don’t come carping20 to me.” He began the old argument about his

being a human.

“Don’t even try to pull that!” I snapped. “ used to believe you until I overheard

you and your friends referring to each other as ‘dog.’ ‘Whassup dog.’ ‘Nuttin dog.’ So,

in my learned21 ways, I put two and two together. You and your friends are dogs

masquerading as humans, so I took you and your friends to the pound and adopted you.”

“Whatever...” he replied.

We continued walking until two men in black suits came out of the station and got

into the station wagon awaiting them. I assumed their incompetence22 at detecting private

eyes would be at a great level, so I walked over to their car and asked for a ride.

“Sure, man! Where are you headed?” They asked.

“Wherever you’ll take me,” I said.

I climbed into the car, dragging Bob, who promptly sat down on the seat beside

me.

“Don’t forget your seat belts,” they warned. “Remember, it’s click it or ticket.”

I decided it was time to reveal myself.

“I’m Ace Bandage, Private Eye. This is my dog, Bob. And you guys are-”

“Bill.”

“Phil.”

“-under arrest,” I finished, drawing my laser gun which, being an anachronism23,

promptly vanished.

20finding fault; critical; complaining

21well-educated; knowledgeable; scholarly
22the state or quality of being unqualified or unable to do something
23a person, event, or thing that is not placed in its proper time
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“Perhapth your name should be N. Trubble, thinthe that’th what you are,” said a

voice from behind as a fist slammed into my head.

I woke up in a darkroom, and hear a match strike. A kerosene lantern was lit, and

a voice said, “Congratulationth, Athe Bandage and bob. You are now in the clutcheth of

the W.U.Th.I.E.Th.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I am Freddie the Flamer, henchman and lead torturer of the W.U.Th.I.E.Th. I

altho have a bit of a pyromania24, and I predict that today’th high will come shortly,” he

said, striking a match and bringing it towards me.

At that moment, I made a rash25 decision and, taking my life into my own hands, I-

to be continued...

24the overpowering desire to set fires

25reckless, hasty, or not thought through