The dame's scream hit an octave usually reserved for calling dogs, but it meant I had a case, and the sound of greenbacks slapping across my palm is music to my ears any day. After all, I'm not an opera critic. I'm a private eye.
I keep two magmums in my desk. One's a gun, and I keep it loaded. The other's a bottle, and it keeps me loaded. I'm a tracer bullet. I'm a professional snoop.
Written by Bill Watterson