Post by DocQuantum on Jun 17, 2017 4:04:19 GMT
Plastic Man
Woozy Winks, Private Eye
An Underworld Unleashed crossover
by Doc Quantum
Woozy Winks, Private Eye, Part 1
Da name's Winks. Woozy Winks. I'm a private investigator -- "private eye" fer short.
I was kicking back and shooting the old breeze when the dame walked in the door. Now, let me tell ya, fellers, when a dame with that many curves walks in the door, you don't leave your feet on the desk, if you get me.
She was blonde, wearing a green summer dress with black polka-dots, and had dark sunglasses and a big hat on. You know, the old kind, with all kinds of fruit, like kiwis and bananas up there. But she didn't seem to care that they were wilting in the hot summer sun. She had a problem she needed fixing, and I was the man ta do it.
"Da hairdresser's next door," I said to her, my eyes avoiding those curves as best they could.
"I wasn't looking for the hairdresser, Mr. Winks," she replied without missing a beat, sounding exactly like Kathleen Turner, "I need a private investigator."
I stopped polishing my shoes for a moment and looked up. Gotta love those that dress -- green with black polka-dots -- it was like she was made fer me or something. "I don't look fer lost handbags, either, toots."
She moved closer to me, sat down on the chair facing my desk, and removed her sunglasses. Looking straight at me and ignoring my comment, she said, "My name is Sylvia Banks, and my baby daughter has been kidnapped, Mr. Winks."
I looked up at her then. She was Serious, wit' a capital "S."
"You don't say," I say.
"I do," she replied, makin' me wish I could already hear those wedding bells while she walked down the church aisle with her dear old dad, with ol' Plas by my side, bearing a ring. I admit it. I was already smitten.
"Maybe yer husband took yer daughter up to yer summer house," I said, losing the fight to keep from meeting her gaze any longer.
She smiled sadly at me and replied, "I'm a widow, Mr. Winks."
"That so?" I said, a little too eagerly.
I pushed my chair back and reached over for my red raincoat with the yellow and black stripe -- forecast said it was supposed ta rain this afternoon -- and, just as I reached the door, I said over my shoulder, "I'm going to take your case, Mrs. Banks. But it ain't gonna come cheap."
"Thank you, Mr. Winks," she said, a little too calmly, as if she knew I wouldn't turn her down all along.
Out on the street, I began looking for my first clues. Luckily, I had left my tape recorder in the red rainjacket with the yellow and black stripe I was now wearing, so I stuck my hand in the inner pocket, searching for it.
"Looking for this?" someone said as a rubber arm from out of my red rainjacket with the yellow and black stripe reached out in front of me, holding my tape recorder.
"AAAAH! Plas?! Don't do that to me! You scar't me half ta death!"
"Woozy, you know we're supposed to be tracking down Brickface," said Plastic Man, who'd been disguised as the red rainjacket with the yellow and black stripe, naturally. I don't know why I always fall fer that trick. Plas slid off my shoulders to the sidewalk and kept up his spiel. "The Chief assigned me personally to this case after Brickface and his mob escaped prison, and it just wouldn't be the same without your assistance. If we're successful, perhaps he'll make you an NBI agent as well..."
"Ohhhhh no ya don't, Plas!" I said, my back up against the wall. "I've been tryin' ta become an NBI agent fer years now, and nothin' ever worked before! But now I've got my own private eye's license, and my first case, ta boot!"
"Let me see that license," Plastic Man said. Grabbing it, he inspected it carefully, his goggles turning into two microscopic lenses. "Woozy... where'd you get this 'private eye's license'?"
"From the Private Eye School on Cole Avenue, of course, Plas, that's where all the big detectives got theirs, like Sam Splade, Mike Whammer, and Philip Shmarlowe!"
"'Private Eye School,' huh?" Plas said, rolling his eyes as if he knew something I didn't. "We'll talk about this later, Woozy. I've got a meeting with the Chief, and I want you to wait for me outside his office."
"As usual," I muttered, and kicked a can on the street out of resigned frustration. When was I gonna get my big break? Sure, I got this new case, but Plas figured we should catch Brickface first. What ta do? What ta do?
Twenty minutes later, I was standing outside of NBI Chief Branner's office, listening in as best I could with my ear to the door. It would'a been so much easier if they'd have let me sit in, y'know?
Still, it gave me a bit of time to think, and to make a decision about what ta do. What was it I finally decided on? I decided to do what any good P.I. would do -- follow my gut. I couldn't let Plas down, of course, but I also couldn't ignore a damsel in distress like that buxom blonde beauty, Sylvia Banks. So, I figured I'd make myself a plan. I would help Sylvia find her missing daughter while also keeping an eye out for any leads on Brickface. All I needed to do now was to convince the Chief.
I strolled into the Chief's office, pretending like I didn't have a care in the world. Plas was already there, his elongated body stretched across the room as he was in the middle of telling the Chief everything he had learned about Brickface's movements since he and his henchman Trowel escaped from the big house. It sounded kinda boring, ta be honest. Plas stopped talking in mid-sentence when he noticed me enter.
The Chief glanced up from his paperwork, his gruff voice filling the room. "Can I help you with anything, Woozy?"
I just shook my head and tried ta keep from smiling too widely. As Plas went back to telling the Chief about Brickface, I slipped a note onto the Chief's desk, which read:
"Sylvia Banks' daughter kidnapped. Need to help her. Will catch Brickface, too. Trust me."
As Plas continued his animated explanation, the Chief's eyes flickered over to the note. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. All I knew was that he'd seen it, and he knew what I wanted ta do.
After Plas finished his spiel, the Chief leaned back in his chair and sighed. "All right, Plastic Man. You and Woozy can work on both cases. But remember, Brickface is our top priority. If you can solve your kidnapping case without compromising the Brickface investigation, then by all means do so."
Plas looked confused at first, until he looked over at me. I crumbled a bit and broke into a huge grin, and Plas put two and two together. He's a smart fella, after all. He smiled in understanding and nodded to the Chief, while I tried to hide my relief. We were going to do this after all! We were going to solve Sylvia Banks' case and bring her daughter back home safely, all while taking down Brickface, and it might finally be the big break I was looking for to be a real private eye!
A minute later, Plas and I left the Chief's office with a renewed sense of purpose. We hit the streets, ready to tackle both cases head-on. Plas used his shape-shifting abilities to gather information from informants and suspects, while I relied on my charm and wit to gather clues from witnesses.
Together, we was our own kind of Dynamic Duo -- the Stretchable Sleuth and the Woozy Wonder. Our methods were a bit off the wall, of course, but ya can't argue with our results! That very afternoon, we ended up stumbling upon an important lead to the kidnapping case.
Woozy Winks, Private Eye
An Underworld Unleashed crossover
by Doc Quantum
Woozy Winks, Private Eye, Part 1
Da name's Winks. Woozy Winks. I'm a private investigator -- "private eye" fer short.
I was kicking back and shooting the old breeze when the dame walked in the door. Now, let me tell ya, fellers, when a dame with that many curves walks in the door, you don't leave your feet on the desk, if you get me.
She was blonde, wearing a green summer dress with black polka-dots, and had dark sunglasses and a big hat on. You know, the old kind, with all kinds of fruit, like kiwis and bananas up there. But she didn't seem to care that they were wilting in the hot summer sun. She had a problem she needed fixing, and I was the man ta do it.
"Da hairdresser's next door," I said to her, my eyes avoiding those curves as best they could.
"I wasn't looking for the hairdresser, Mr. Winks," she replied without missing a beat, sounding exactly like Kathleen Turner, "I need a private investigator."
I stopped polishing my shoes for a moment and looked up. Gotta love those that dress -- green with black polka-dots -- it was like she was made fer me or something. "I don't look fer lost handbags, either, toots."
She moved closer to me, sat down on the chair facing my desk, and removed her sunglasses. Looking straight at me and ignoring my comment, she said, "My name is Sylvia Banks, and my baby daughter has been kidnapped, Mr. Winks."
I looked up at her then. She was Serious, wit' a capital "S."
"You don't say," I say.
"I do," she replied, makin' me wish I could already hear those wedding bells while she walked down the church aisle with her dear old dad, with ol' Plas by my side, bearing a ring. I admit it. I was already smitten.
"Maybe yer husband took yer daughter up to yer summer house," I said, losing the fight to keep from meeting her gaze any longer.
She smiled sadly at me and replied, "I'm a widow, Mr. Winks."
"That so?" I said, a little too eagerly.
I pushed my chair back and reached over for my red raincoat with the yellow and black stripe -- forecast said it was supposed ta rain this afternoon -- and, just as I reached the door, I said over my shoulder, "I'm going to take your case, Mrs. Banks. But it ain't gonna come cheap."
"Thank you, Mr. Winks," she said, a little too calmly, as if she knew I wouldn't turn her down all along.
Out on the street, I began looking for my first clues. Luckily, I had left my tape recorder in the red rainjacket with the yellow and black stripe I was now wearing, so I stuck my hand in the inner pocket, searching for it.
"Looking for this?" someone said as a rubber arm from out of my red rainjacket with the yellow and black stripe reached out in front of me, holding my tape recorder.
"AAAAH! Plas?! Don't do that to me! You scar't me half ta death!"
"Woozy, you know we're supposed to be tracking down Brickface," said Plastic Man, who'd been disguised as the red rainjacket with the yellow and black stripe, naturally. I don't know why I always fall fer that trick. Plas slid off my shoulders to the sidewalk and kept up his spiel. "The Chief assigned me personally to this case after Brickface and his mob escaped prison, and it just wouldn't be the same without your assistance. If we're successful, perhaps he'll make you an NBI agent as well..."
"Ohhhhh no ya don't, Plas!" I said, my back up against the wall. "I've been tryin' ta become an NBI agent fer years now, and nothin' ever worked before! But now I've got my own private eye's license, and my first case, ta boot!"
"Let me see that license," Plastic Man said. Grabbing it, he inspected it carefully, his goggles turning into two microscopic lenses. "Woozy... where'd you get this 'private eye's license'?"
"From the Private Eye School on Cole Avenue, of course, Plas, that's where all the big detectives got theirs, like Sam Splade, Mike Whammer, and Philip Shmarlowe!"
"'Private Eye School,' huh?" Plas said, rolling his eyes as if he knew something I didn't. "We'll talk about this later, Woozy. I've got a meeting with the Chief, and I want you to wait for me outside his office."
"As usual," I muttered, and kicked a can on the street out of resigned frustration. When was I gonna get my big break? Sure, I got this new case, but Plas figured we should catch Brickface first. What ta do? What ta do?
Twenty minutes later, I was standing outside of NBI Chief Branner's office, listening in as best I could with my ear to the door. It would'a been so much easier if they'd have let me sit in, y'know?
Still, it gave me a bit of time to think, and to make a decision about what ta do. What was it I finally decided on? I decided to do what any good P.I. would do -- follow my gut. I couldn't let Plas down, of course, but I also couldn't ignore a damsel in distress like that buxom blonde beauty, Sylvia Banks. So, I figured I'd make myself a plan. I would help Sylvia find her missing daughter while also keeping an eye out for any leads on Brickface. All I needed to do now was to convince the Chief.
I strolled into the Chief's office, pretending like I didn't have a care in the world. Plas was already there, his elongated body stretched across the room as he was in the middle of telling the Chief everything he had learned about Brickface's movements since he and his henchman Trowel escaped from the big house. It sounded kinda boring, ta be honest. Plas stopped talking in mid-sentence when he noticed me enter.
The Chief glanced up from his paperwork, his gruff voice filling the room. "Can I help you with anything, Woozy?"
I just shook my head and tried ta keep from smiling too widely. As Plas went back to telling the Chief about Brickface, I slipped a note onto the Chief's desk, which read:
"Sylvia Banks' daughter kidnapped. Need to help her. Will catch Brickface, too. Trust me."
As Plas continued his animated explanation, the Chief's eyes flickered over to the note. He raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. All I knew was that he'd seen it, and he knew what I wanted ta do.
After Plas finished his spiel, the Chief leaned back in his chair and sighed. "All right, Plastic Man. You and Woozy can work on both cases. But remember, Brickface is our top priority. If you can solve your kidnapping case without compromising the Brickface investigation, then by all means do so."
Plas looked confused at first, until he looked over at me. I crumbled a bit and broke into a huge grin, and Plas put two and two together. He's a smart fella, after all. He smiled in understanding and nodded to the Chief, while I tried to hide my relief. We were going to do this after all! We were going to solve Sylvia Banks' case and bring her daughter back home safely, all while taking down Brickface, and it might finally be the big break I was looking for to be a real private eye!
A minute later, Plas and I left the Chief's office with a renewed sense of purpose. We hit the streets, ready to tackle both cases head-on. Plas used his shape-shifting abilities to gather information from informants and suspects, while I relied on my charm and wit to gather clues from witnesses.
Together, we was our own kind of Dynamic Duo -- the Stretchable Sleuth and the Woozy Wonder. Our methods were a bit off the wall, of course, but ya can't argue with our results! That very afternoon, we ended up stumbling upon an important lead to the kidnapping case.
