05-02-2018, 11:08 PM
Trix was well into the fifth decade of her film career before anyone noticed that she hadn't aged a day since Genba resurrected her, over sixty years before.
I was an old geezer. Genba was an old geezer. Dark Dick was an old geezer. So was my horse. Creamy, as lovely as she still was, was showing her age.
But not Trix. She still looked twenty-five. She had to be eighty-five by now.
She had told us all she was a witch back in 1926 or thereabouts, but still....
I asked my horse about it while we were sitting at the card table in the game room of our Pebble Beach bungalow playing gin rummy one day.
"What do you think?"
He looked at me over the rims of his bifocals. "About what?"
"You know. Is it her magic, or something Genba did in the lab that day?"
The horse shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe neither. Maybe both."
Cream of Caulk stopped by in her custom hover car that a Mexican chop shop had tricked out to look like a old timey hearse, with flames painted on the front quarter panels.
"What's shakin', Creamy? Rob any stagecoaches today?"
"You know I gave all of that up decades ago, you old buzzard."
And so she had. The long arm of the law had finally caught up with Creamy and her band of outlaws. She had done hard time. She had gotten religion. She still dressed slutty though, so it ain't all bad.
"What do you think Trix's secret is?" I asked her.
"I know exactly what it is, but I swore I'd never tell."
"Oh, you'll tell," I replied. "Come over here and sit on my lap."
I was an old geezer. Genba was an old geezer. Dark Dick was an old geezer. So was my horse. Creamy, as lovely as she still was, was showing her age.
But not Trix. She still looked twenty-five. She had to be eighty-five by now.
She had told us all she was a witch back in 1926 or thereabouts, but still....
I asked my horse about it while we were sitting at the card table in the game room of our Pebble Beach bungalow playing gin rummy one day.
"What do you think?"
He looked at me over the rims of his bifocals. "About what?"
"You know. Is it her magic, or something Genba did in the lab that day?"
The horse shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe neither. Maybe both."
Cream of Caulk stopped by in her custom hover car that a Mexican chop shop had tricked out to look like a old timey hearse, with flames painted on the front quarter panels.
"What's shakin', Creamy? Rob any stagecoaches today?"
"You know I gave all of that up decades ago, you old buzzard."
And so she had. The long arm of the law had finally caught up with Creamy and her band of outlaws. She had done hard time. She had gotten religion. She still dressed slutty though, so it ain't all bad.
"What do you think Trix's secret is?" I asked her.
"I know exactly what it is, but I swore I'd never tell."
"Oh, you'll tell," I replied. "Come over here and sit on my lap."
