She pulled his dingle dangle from his pants and began to move her hands about it as if she were unreeling a water hose.

"This is moving too quickly. There's a murder investigation going on--and you're the number one suspect."

He was homicide detective Jim "Bull" Malarkey, and she was former prostitute turned stripper turned law student turned crusading district attorney Fem Fataley.

"You don't really think I killed those men do you? They died in such horrible ways. They were stabbed in two places right? Their heart and their pee pee. Stabbed with a prop Klingon knife from the old Star Trek TV shows, right? How could I an innocent girl do those things?"

She had a point, she was a good girl. this was their second meeting before they did the bullfrog act, most bad girls go for it on their first interrogation. She has the kind of fake boobies you took home to meet your mother.

Talking about the case should have been a turn off for Malarkey. All he had on his mind lately was finding the killer of these men, especially since the killer had murdered his partner Sweet Tooth Johnson, he was good police, knew how to keep brutality out of the papers. Still, he found any and all words coming from between Fem's sweet crimson lips to be sinfully delicious.

"Oh your wiener...it's so...erect."

They made hot nasty all night long, using a variety of kinky toys, and sometimes just regular things, not actually kinky, but kinky because of the context of the situation. Like an empty roll of toilet paper, and a Trivial Pursuit game board.

In the morning, Fem had left Malarkey to sleep late. She left a note saying she had an early appointment. Malarkey knew he had over stepped a boundary. He had seen a perp in the buff. He had touched the perp, yes, he had put hand cuffs on the suspect, but it was not to make them hit their head as he put them in the car, like usual. No. They had done erotic things. Possibly illegal erotic things depending on the state and time of day in that state you happened to find yourself. Spent, Malarkey went back to sleep.

On the way out from Fem's apartment, Bull noticed something. A collection of Star Trek memorabilia. Perhaps that was a clue. If Malarkey could recall the facts the murderer was some kind of science fiction fan. Dune or Highlander, Malarkey wasn't sure. He'd have to check his notes. Then he remembered he had to meet his ex-wife for lunch. She probably wanted more of that Malarkey charm in her life. well, the Bull had a new gal now...supposing she wasn't a murderer.

At 2:30 Malarkey went to the mall to meet his ex-wife, Whiskey Malone. Whiskey was one of those gals that had a rough life. She lost the use of her legs in a tragic teenage accident while working at Krispy Kreme. She told everyone that the accident was caused when the glazer leaked all over the floor and she tripped, but in reality, she was making whoopie against the oven, and the boy holding her up slipped. Ever since then she's harbored a strong hatred of men. All men except Malarkey, whom she loved to the point of stalking him.

"I hate your guts Bull."

Bull sipped from his afternoon lunch of a vodka slurpee.

"That's not true babe you go through my garbage every night."

"Yeah, and I can smell that another woman's thing has been on your thing."

Hmm, Marlarkey had even put on an extra layer of tightie whities to prevent Whiskey from smelling that rotten fish smell.

"Why did you call me to meet? I'm working a tough case and I can't be distracted right now."

Malarkey was getting a good look at his ex's melons beneath her her baby t-shirt. For a paraplegic brain surgeon/astronaut she sure did dress like a teen age prostitute.

"I had the day off, I was getting one of my Star Trek props cleaned. Blood had gotten all over my Daqtagh, you know, Klingon knife."

She took a bite of her hot dog, but instead of just chomping, she slid the cylinder into her mouth and back out again, eating the hot dog like someone trying to turn someone else on might eat a hot dog. Across the table, Malarkey was playing her game by taking his index and middle fingers and putting them on either side of his mouth, then sticking his tongue out in and out like a dyslexic ant eater. A priest and a nun walked by.

"I really hated your ex-partner. I'm glad he's dead, whoever killed him should get a metal. I wish I'd killed him. I could have. I'm very good with a knife, especially a Daqtagh, I bet he was stabbed in his wee wee hole. That's the kind of man he was.

The eroticism was too much and the former lovers became lovers lovers again. They barely made it into the unisex rest room, tearing at each's others clothes, with Whiskey riding piggy back since she couldn't use her legs. The panting and gasping like chubby children running a mile could be heard out in the food court.

"Your hoo-ha is drenched."

"Don't even get me started on how vaginally excited I am right now. Use your digits to play with my pink slip and slide."

"I think I am close to ejaculation."

"Not yet hold off on letting your seamen flow, wait until I reach my moment of excitement too."

"Too late."

As Malarkey zipped up his britches he got a call on his walkie talkie.


"Malarkey are you there over?"

"This is Malarkey, go ahead."

"We got another victim, you better get over to the skating rink."

This had to stop, these murders couldn't go on, Marlkey was sure if the killer kept killing and no one stopped them, why they might kill everyone, and Malarkey was pretty sure that was a bad thing.

"I'm on my way, have a rainbow sno-cone waiting for me when I arrive."

"Don't go Bull, lets be in an intimate relationship again."

"Babe, from this moment on I'm a one gal guy, but if you come around somtimes and I'm kinda lonely I bet we could do things to each others private parts on occasion."

Bull left a weeping Whiskey to go pick up her recently cleaned Star Trek memorabilia.

To be Continued...