The rain fell like oil, glistening, slick, and, like all of the residents in tinsel town, left a residue that doesn't wash easy.

It was dusk and I was working, unlike the sun I never quit. That damn bastard never did do me any favors. Seen what I’ve seen and as much as what I've seen then you know that justice --real justice is only ever found in the dark.

I was following up on something from a contact I owed a few favors for, Electric Nova -a record producer, one of the good ones, they were in a bind. Some business with a new popstar they were getting ready to put on the big time, Yellowstar they called them. Turns out Yellowstar has a problematic husband, got in an altercation on live stream, something involving gesticulation and a cup of coffee that went north, then south onto a pair of silk pajamas, nasty stuff. I’ve seen the tapes.

I was on my way to talk with Yellowstar’s husband, Jack Allison who worked at the podcasting factory up in North Hollywood. During my drive I caught every single red light on the way, that was fine, gave me time to think. Funny that they always tell you to go towards the light when you're down in the dark or was it to stay away from the light? I can't say for sure, but with a city with lights as bright as these, I'm thinking it’s the latter.

I rolled into the podcasting lot, checked the directory in the lobby, and found my way to Allison’s floor. He was there chatting it up with some yahoos in the corner. I tapped him on the shoulder and he turned. “You Jack Allison?”

He sneered at me, “Who wantsta’ know?”

“Me.”

“Well, me. What's dis all about?” I didn’t respond. Sometimes with animals like this you gotta keep silent, let their guilty souls do the talking, fill in the gaps. “Come onnn, i’m working ‘ere.” I said nothing. He finally sighed and said, “You’d stand there all night wouldn't cha? Sayin nuttin’.” I heard him mutter “fuckin’ creep” under his breath, and he started off toward some location, “lets go in da back.” I followed.

‘Da back’ was a dimly lit break room that smelled of ash and sweat.

“Look.” He said, “Lets cut da shit. I’m gonna walk. You know it, I know it.”

“What happened to the cup has Right of Way?”

“Doesn’t madda’ I'm a gesticulatah’, Doc says I got issues. No jury wit a heart is gonna conv-”

“Doc eh? The same Doc that paid your bail? 10k Kenny pennies is steep. What are you to him?”

“Dr. Fuzz is a very giving man, and he owns dis town. So why don’t you stick your nose where-”

I hit him hard. He went down and in a second I had him pinned, stomach to floor, his right arm extended in my control.”It was a setup,” I growled. “You didn’t like your partner having a career outside of you, didn’t want them to be a popstar, you planned the scandal to ruin their reputation, knowing Dr. Fuzz would cover you.”

“You cant prove dat!” He said mush-mouthed, face pressed into hardwood. “I'm a gesticulatah! It's a medical condition, I'm sick!” I twisted his arm, felt it break. He howled and I was certain he wouldn’t be doing any gesticulating for a good long while. As I left him blubbering on the ground, he screamed at me. “Run while you still can kid, you’re dead, you hear me? You’re fuckin' dead!” I didn’t know it then, but that was the last piece of friendly advice I would ever get in this town.

Topics Discussed on Todays Episode include Gesticulation Area, E3 Roundup and Bidens European Vacation!

Air date: 06/14/21: https://www.twitch.tv/videos/1055932240