"My plan for a fancy cocktail party for dätist

"My plan for a fancy cocktail party for dätist pensioners is dead" I thought. What I didn't know

was that the party was already happening over at Joe's place, he just didn't invite me. That Joe. What a bastard. A plan for swift and violent revenge came to me almost immediately

. Ding dong! Joe opened & then tried to shut the door but my 4 inch stiletto was already in. "Let me in & mix me a Sloe Comfortable Punch against the Sidecar or Fufu gets it," I

n walked Vanessa Williams. She had my Great Dane "Fufu" by the scruff of the neck with a loaded .45 against her neck. "Alright, alright" Joe said, and went to get the sloe

gin fizzes. He got lucky and the bar was stocked with tears of the last Oliphant. It was not cheap but he bought it all. Then I heard about Vanessa with a gun to the Doge's head.

I've known her for years, and haven't a clue why she would commit such a grandiose crime. Apparently her second husband co-owned a lot of unscrupulous side businesses.

But not with her. Maybe that's why she needed money- to get her shyster second husband out of prison. I never liked him, anyway. He wore aviator glasses. She probably wanted to buy

smokes or pills or something that could stand for money in the joint. The guy was a creep. If half the things I heard about him were true, he belongs in prison. The next day,

the police raided his house and found enough evidence to put him away for a long time. I felt relieved that justice had been served, but also grateful that I had gotten out of that

pickle factory in time! Because who'd have guessed that beneath layers of dill, was a secret criminal empire? From now on, I'll just stick to making jam.