Finally Friday's First Flight

Hello everybody. It's me again, Girl Friday.

Today was "The Big Day"... graduation day over at Sears... You're now looking at a genuine certified PI. If you don't know what a PI is, it stands for Private Investigator. Yep, I finished the night course, passed this big multiple choice test, and today I'm a real gumshoe. I got this framed diploma with an actual ribbon on it to hang on the wall and an ID card with an official looking gold star on it. The ID card is in this imitation leather wallet that I can flip open in peoples faces just like Tracer used to do. I used to love watching him do that. Especially when he'd catch the tip of their noses with it. He did that on purpose you know! He was so film noir!

I've been getting the old office spruced up for a couple of weeks now, and that hasn't been an easy job. It's been closed up ever since Tracer abandoned it and took off for Thailand to search for Ace. As usual, when he left he stiffed me a months pay, and I didn't hear anything more from him until I got a letter from Bangkok asking me to wire him some more money. I wrote back and told him the only wiring I'd be doing would be to wire his balls to an electric socket. After that, I didn't hear from the dick for months, and then finally I got word that Tracer had bitten the big burrito and went on to that great wanking closet in the sky. No matter how much of a dick he was, and how many times he shot me, I still learned a lot from that jerk. In between all the pain, we had a lot of good times together, even if I didn't think so at the time. I'll might even miss the cheap bastard someday.

Anyway, that's when I decided that I needed to either find a real job, or to get my act together and open up my own agency. After all, even though Tracer's name was painted on the door, I was the one who kept the business on track in spite of his best efforts to bankrupt us. I don't mean to brag, but everybody knows it was me who was the brains behind the outfit, and he was darned lucky I didn't quit that night in the LDW Chatroom, when he shot me in the knee the first time.

Even though Tracer was a deadbeat and cheapskate, I was still a little bit nervous about going out on my own without him. Then I came to my senses and realized that not only can I do this, but my knees would have a better than average chance that they wouldn't end up with more bullet holes in them. Not to mention not having to replace so many pairs of pantyhose.

So, I've been cleaning out the cobwebs and scraping that disgusting burrito residue off the walls of the bathroom, getting ready to open up shop as soon as I finished the PI course. I even cleaned out Tracer's old wanking closet, but I haven't decided what I want to do with that room yet. Besides, I need to wait until that wierd smell in there goes away.

So what's the hurry? Well, I have my first case! I couldn't officially announce it until I had my certification, but now that that's official, I can let the cat out of the bag.

The job I've been hired for is your standard missing persons case. I'm not allowed to tell you who's paying me, but I can spill the beans on who it is I'm looking for. That way, if anybody knows where this person is, you can contact me and maybe save me a lot of legwork, which in my case is usually very hard on my pantyhose.

See, I've been hired to find Billybear. Yep. Billybear of Billybear Labs has turned up missing. His Lab has been locked up tight for months now, and a certain unidentified party is pretty darned anxious to find him. Anxious enough to pay me a pretty solid advance on my expenses, and way more than I ever saw in those puny little paychecks from Tracer. I've got a couple of good leads already, and a few people in mind to interrogate, so I'm pretty sure he won't be too hard to find.

Well, I think I'll lock up now and catch a cab home for some much needed shuteye. It's been a long day and I'll be getting up with the chickens tomorrow so I can head back into the office and get started on the case. And I almost forgot, Ive gotta think of a really classy name for the agency, so I can have it painted on the glass just like that loser Spade across the hall has.

I'll keep you all posted.

Girl Friday