jack80
Hail to the King!
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2012
- Posts
- 10,710
The Time: 1931
The Place: The Big City
Jim Hopper was once a great police detective. The tall black haired, hazel eyed man was always able to complete a case. Then he decided to go after a friend of the mayor's, investigating the businessman Brad Shaw's death.
Next thing he knew was busted out, fired, released... axed. So many ways to call it, but they all ended up the same way. He was no longer a cop.
But he still wanted to solve crimes. So he started Hopper's Freelance Investigations. Only one problem though. He wasn't solving crime... he was just photographing cheating husband and wives.
How did I hit rock bottom. I thought as I look at another series of pictures I had taken of a wife cheating on her husband... with the freaking pool boy.
Sigh. Things cannot get any worse then this.
"Ring. Ring." Damn phone. I pick it up. Its the landlord. He says I owe him back rent. I know I fucking paid it. I listen to the fat slob go on about how much I owe him. There was no point in arguing. I paid in cash for this small piece of crap in the wall office. No bank statements to prove that I did. I just tell him I paid him, but stop as I see someone at my door.
Its just a shadow from the hallway light, but I can tell its a woman. I hang up on the fat slob and quickly make myself presentable. Hiding the risque photos in time, the door opens... and in walks you.
The Place: The Big City
Jim Hopper was once a great police detective. The tall black haired, hazel eyed man was always able to complete a case. Then he decided to go after a friend of the mayor's, investigating the businessman Brad Shaw's death.
Next thing he knew was busted out, fired, released... axed. So many ways to call it, but they all ended up the same way. He was no longer a cop.
But he still wanted to solve crimes. So he started Hopper's Freelance Investigations. Only one problem though. He wasn't solving crime... he was just photographing cheating husband and wives.
How did I hit rock bottom. I thought as I look at another series of pictures I had taken of a wife cheating on her husband... with the freaking pool boy.
Sigh. Things cannot get any worse then this.
"Ring. Ring." Damn phone. I pick it up. Its the landlord. He says I owe him back rent. I know I fucking paid it. I listen to the fat slob go on about how much I owe him. There was no point in arguing. I paid in cash for this small piece of crap in the wall office. No bank statements to prove that I did. I just tell him I paid him, but stop as I see someone at my door.
Its just a shadow from the hallway light, but I can tell its a woman. I hang up on the fat slob and quickly make myself presentable. Hiding the risque photos in time, the door opens... and in walks you.
