It was stormy summer night, which wasn’t all that unusual in this one horse town I just moved to, but this was a full blown thunderstorm with all the bells and whistles- lightning spreading across the dark purple sky and thunder that would make General Patton plug his ears, and the rain was like three kids was was splashin’ ya down with garden hose- making sure you hadn’t a dry inch on ya. I had just pulled into my this 24/7 choke and puke for a nice warm cup of Joe, maybe some oatmeal, something to buy me time out of the rain before I call it a night,  when my phone rang, “Bail Bonds,” with a bit of desperation in my voice…“He’s innocent!” screams the lady on the other end, “He’s innocent I tell you!” CLICK! and she’s gone. “Private number— of course” I sighed. Why did I leave the city for this? I’m so desperate for a client, I would bail out Babyface Nelson right now. “Maybe the dame will call back” I thought, “no sense in missing my midnight coffee- that’s all I got goin’ tonight, coffee and BOOM CRASH SPLASH.” Just as I step out of my car into foot deep, pothole of water, “RING RING!” private number, “Bail Bonds, don’t hang up!” I says. #BlankCheck  (1)