American Bandstand Noir

I was on a quest.
A journey.
A search for knowledge.

I wondered, wondered, wondered who -
Who wrote the book of love?

And where was this alleged book? Did it exist?

I had been commissioned by the child of a woman named Destiny to answer just such a question. She had sent me on a dangerous mission. I mean sure, she's a survivor, but would I be so lucky? Only time would tell.

I began my mission by boarding a ship of fools and speaking to the Sultans of Swing. Their lips were sealed, so I checked into a room at the Heartbreak Hotel. I asked the staff if they'd heard anything about the book I sought. Still, no dice. Apparently only the lonely stay at their establishment.

The next day, I paid a visit to Proud Mary, but she wasn't talking. All she wanted to do was dance. I'm not living la vida loca, so I got the hell out of there. Negative Nancy was no help either. I gave her some Prozac then headed under the boardwalk to pay a visit to Johnny On the Spot.

I was too late. Johnny was dead, lying in a pool of blood. The whole thing smelled like Teen Spirit. I hadn't smelled that deodorant in years, not since college. I had a roommate who wore it. His name was Leroy Brown. And he was bad. He wasn't just bad, he was double bad. He was bad times two. He was bad bad.

I hadn't thought about Leroy Brown in some time. We actually live in the same neighborhood, but haven't spoken a word to each other since we had a falling out over a girl who wore a raspberry beret - the kind you find in a second-hand store. I decided it was time to patch things up and pay him a visit. Sorry seems to be the hardest word, but I was ready to make amends.

I stopped by his place, and who do you think answered the door? It was none other than Runaround Sue. I warned Leroy to keep away from her, but apparently he didn't listen. She said that Leroy wasn't home, and then she invited me in to see their baby. Apparently those two went to the chapel and got married. Now they've got a kid. A beautiful baby boy named Sue. His childhood is gonna suck. And when I say that he was a beautiful baby, I mean beautiful in the way that Louie Anderson is anorexic. This kid was scary. He was u-g-l-y. He was also my prime suspect as he ain't got not alibi.

After I saw the kid, I held back my vomit and managed to get some information from Sue. She told me that she overheard a conversation down at the car wash that might interest me. Apparently Hatty Told Matty about a thing she saw. It had two big horns and a wolly jaw. Perhaps this was the creature that took the life of Johnny On the Spot.

The plot was getting thick. I was in too deep. There was no way out. Destiny's Child wasn't paying me enough to go after what was an obvious purple people-eater. Still, I was intrigued. Johnny had been a friend of mine. He made me believe I could fly. At a time when other people judged my sexual promiscuity, he told me he didn't see anything wrong with a little bump and grind. He told me I was beautiful, no matter what they say. I owed him one, and I was going to bring down his killer - and find the Book of Love to boot!

I returned to the scene of the crime and upon further examination I found a copy of the Watchtower. Johnny's blood was all along it. I knew where my next stop would be - the local Kindgom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses. It all made sense. Those folks are against holidays, and by destroying the book of love, they would be taking out Valentine's Day. I made my way to their birthday-free zone and headed to the roof. I could feel it comin' in the air tonight. I waited for what seemed like forever, but was in actuality about 45 seconds. Then, I saw him. The purple people eater. There he was, delivering the book of love. He had stolen it from Johnny. I overheard him replaying the grisly story of how he did Johnny in. He tried to simply take the book, but Johnny wouldn't relent. Johnny said that he wanted to know what love is, and he wanted the book to show him. He would never surrender. The purple eater then gave him what he called the "red light special," and Johnny was no more. He handed the book over to the Jehovah's Witnesses and then they swore him into their cult. He put his right hand on a copy of the Watchtower and vowed to forsake all holidays, sporting events, carnivals, and fun of any sort.

Maybe it was the fact that I was so close to such a powerful book, but I felt crazy in love with Destiny's Child. I know she was a client, and it was unprofessional, but I didn't care. I pulled out my gun and shot them all in the heart. They were to blame. They gave love a bad name. I took the book, wiped my fingerprints from the place, disposed of my unregistered firearm and made my way to a payphone.

I delivered the book to my client and collected my commission. Another job well done. I took care of business. I worked overtime. As for Destiny's Child, she just wants to be friends.