RIP Robert B. Parker

January 24, 2010

Excerpts from Robert B. Parkers last Spencer novel.  Presumably

Spencer finished putting the final touches on his dinner – a quick Coquilles Saint-Jaques where he substituted a romegano for the gruyere.  Although this particular dish was just shy of 6,500 calories, none of it showed on his masculine 6’2″ perfectly muscled frame.  He was currently wearing skin tight acid-washed jeans and a blue denim work shirt unbuttoned to the belt. He had on black Adidas running shoes and rayban sunglasses.

Susan was coming over shortly, so he quickly prepared a pitcher of vodka gimlets, using 40 ounces of liquor.  Although they would likely finish the entire thing, neither would display any signs of drunkenness.  While he waited he drank four Red Rock beers.  Yum.

Outside his apartment where he lived on his own uncompromising terms, beholden to no one, he heard a commotion.  Strapping on his unlicensed Magnum to his broad back and then pausing to strap on a second and third handgun he rushed to the door, pausing again only to grab a quick fourth unlicensed handgun.

He opened the door

“What’s going on here?” he manfully demanded, quiet yet totally in control of the situation.  A young woman was being accosted by a street punk.  He was a huge street punk though, like massive and normal people would be scared of him.  But not Spencer.

“Hit the road gramps” toughened the punk, trying to tenderize Spencer verbally.  It was unsuccessful.

“Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference”.  Spencer smiled .

“Wordsworth?” wondered the girl, in love already.

“Frost” smugged Spencer.  For despite being self-educated and living on his own uncompromising terms, Spencer was also smart and awesome.

“Okay gramps, I’m going to take you out now and we should fight”.  The huge, scary (not to Spencer) punk faced off.

He swung a lobbing overhand right at Spencer which he dodged easily.  Breathing in, Spencer then hit him 14 times in the face, and finished with an uppercut.  Normally this sort of beating would hospitalize a man and Spencer would likely be brought up on multiple assault charges but in this case, the punk just ran off.

“I’d like to have sex with you” moaned the now safe woman.

“Of course you would” agreed Spencer.  “But alas, I am committed to Susan.  You are the 9th woman to throw herself at me today.”

“Your rejection has left me as satisfied as your acceptance would have” responded the girl, mystified.

Spencer went back inside to have 6 more quick beers and a lobster roll.  While waiting for Susan, he decided to work out and quickly bench-pressed 410 pounds without breaking a sweat.  Then he realized how little TV he watched because he was awesome and went back to reading the collected poetry of the African Tribesman.

Suddenly, a phone call!


Futher updates from the smart, political thriller I will never write

January 6, 2010

Quickly entering the office, Monica and Davis shut the door behind them and turned off the lights.

“Okay Monica” whispered Davis “You keep watch.  If anyone comes, we’re going to have to hide pretty quickly.  I’m going to try and download the senator’s files”.
“What makes you even think he knows about the Pegasus Initiative?”
“He has to” Davis replied tersely.  “It’s the only connection he would have to Ingenium.”
“But they have lobbyists all over the world” she protested “one picture of the senator shaking hands with -”
“There’s no goddamn time for second guessing” he exclaimed “let’s just get the files and get outta here”

Sighing in exhausted resignation,  Monica agreed “Fine.  Just do whatever.”

Crossing the room, Davis booted up the computer.
“Do you even know where to look?” she asked?
Davis shook his head “No, but I have some ideas.  If I can connect my USB Fireware PDA to his LAN drive, I think I can reroute into the mainframe infrastructure and grab core grep files from the Lotus directory”.

Monica stared at him for 15 uncomfortable seconds.  “That doesn’t make any goddamn sense.  That was just a random collection of words.  Nothing you do or say ever makes any fu-”
“No time” he cut her off as the computer finished its boot routine.   “You keep watch at the door – I think the janitor is on to us.”   He started to fiddle with various wires he pulled out of his pocket.   “Where’s the damn Unix interface on this thing?  Damnit!”

Muttering under her breath, Monica walked over.  “It’s just Windows Vista”  she clicked an icon “He doesn’t even have his profile password protected.   We’re in.   Here.”  she pointed.  “Here’s a folder right on the desktop” her voice turned incredulous “unexpectedly called “Secret plans and meetings with Ingenium.”   She began clicking.
Davis laughed “I bet that’s the type of hacking they don’t teach you in philosopher school”.
She didn’t answer as she read the files.  “I can’t believe this.  You’re correct.   He DOES have insider deals going with Ingenium to kill the Pegasus Initiative”
“I told you!” Davis said triumphantly!  “Now lets download these onto my portable iDisk interface ” He pulled out a GPS.

Impressively, she was able to express both dismissive contempt and the concept of wishing he would shut up with a wave of her hand. “I’ll just put in on my memory stick.  They’re just word documents.”  Even more impressively, she didn’t add ‘idiot’ at the end of her sentence.  She started the transfer.
“Where’s the massive red bar that shows overall progress?” Asked Davis out of professional curiosity.  She continued to ignore him.

“I’m bored” he sulked.

Just then, there was an exciting noise in the hallway!!


Excerpt from the smart, political thriller I will never write

January 4, 2010

Davis Kenny hunched intently over his computer, hacking.  All the pieces where there.  The trail of dollars, the hidden secrets, the lines to the top.  It was all connected, and it was smart.  He felt rocked, but he was never saluted first, so it wasn’t it a good way.

He continued to hack furiously away when the door opened – shit – and he quickly alt+tabbed off his current screen, which was displaying information which could stun the political world, to a harmless browser window displaying child pornography.

Shit

He settled for throwing his jacket over the monitor and turned to newcomer.  It was Monica Smalling, a molecular biologist physicist philosopher he had seen around the office from time to time.  She was as smart as she was sexy and she had a man’s confidence with woman’s hands.  She didn’t need anyone, although he suspected she harbored a deep secret (a smart one) that made her put up walls around herself.  And she had huge tits.  All this flashed through his mind in seconds, coupled with images of his dead mother.  The whole thing was confusing.

“Kennedy?”  she said surprised, walking into the office.  “What are you doing here?”
“I should ask you the same question” he responded smartly.
“Should you?”
“Yes” he moved his rook into checkmate position.
“Why though?” she responded.  “Seriously, what are you doing here?  This is my office.”

Swing and a miss. 

Thinking furiously, he grabbed the first item on the desk – a stapler – and showed it to her.   “Just needed to borrow this bad boy” he said.  “Don’t even remember I was here.  I’ll just be on my way”.
“But you were on my computer.” she protested.  “Why were you on my computer.  And why were you looking at… what was that, child por-”
He cut her off quickly “Look Monica, there’s no time.  Do you trust me?”
She looked perplexed.  “I barely know you.   And you’re in my office.  On my computer.  So no, I don’t trust you at all.”
“Listen” he said, thinking furiously “I’ve stumbled on to something.  Something big.  It’s big and it’s connected and it’s smart.”
“I’m calling security” she said, pulling out her cell phone.
“Wait!” he said.  “What if I told you a portion of what I found.  Just listen.  I’ve been doing some research.   Do you know of corporations?”
“Yes..” She paused in the act of dialing
“Right, well what if I told you that corporations… don’t always work in the best interests of the consumer!!!”
She stared at him incredulously “What are you saying?”
He dropped his bombshell “I have information here that shows corporations really just want money.  And the government is involved somehow”
The phone dropped out of her numb, lifeless fingers.  “That’s.. that’s fucked up” she whispered.
“And smart” he reminded her.  She was drawn into his web.  But would there be enough time?