Hey, the name's Hammer - Jack Hammer. I'm a Private Eye, and I'm smoking. The doc says it's bad for my longterm health, but I don't care. Can I help it if I have a blazing ego?

Work's been slow as of late, like a crippled snail after its crutches have been stolen by a pair of chavish centipedes, which is slow. But it's cool, I can deal...and I have been dealing...in fact, I'm into my hundred-and-seventeenth game of Solitare, I'm dealing so much.

With a thunderous crash the likes of which I haven't heard since I last got attacked by ninja elephants, the Mayor of the town barges into my office.

"Nice barge," I comment softly, not looking up from my game.

"Thank yew, I had it himported hespecially from Hitaly," guffed the Mayor as he stepped out of the boat, the buttons on his waistcoat straining to keep his portly belly in. I hadn't seen such a struggle of containment since McFly came on tour - and that was just for the thousands that wanted to kill the band.

"What can I do for you?"

"I have an hassignment of the hupmost himportance!!" the Mayor declared at the top of his lungs, blowing my card-game all over the office. Sighing, I looked up from my now-blank game table and gave the stout old man a scrutinous gaze. The more he spoke, the more I swear he was elected just to have him vacate his prior job of Town Crier. Oh, and it's also my firm belief that he speaks the way he does due to either a stroke, or an identity-crisis. Or it could be a mix of the two, I'm not too fussed to find out.

"A job, huh?" I resist the temptation to rub my hands greedily, but even I'm not strong enough to deny myself a smarmy, "Excellent."

"Hindeed!! Of the Hupmost Himportance!!" he repeats, and this time I can actually hear the capitalisation.

"That's big," I concede, leaning forward in my swivel chair (before my Solitare binge, I had spent my time performing a Solo Swivel Marathon. But that quickly came to an end because my office's decor didn't look all that great in 'Sick Splash Yellows'). "Go on..."

"Before I begin, hallow me to stand on Ceremony!!"

"Well, I would, but she quit some weeks back - something about 'perverted sexual harassment'. And I'm fresh outta Halal, sorry..."

"Oh - well, no matter!! Hi will just have to push the boat out!!"

"Please do, it's clashing with the futons."

Once the Mayor had managed to move his barge back out into the hallway, he closed the door behind him and took a seat across from me. I didn't mind, as I'd always hated that chair - he could keep it.

"Hi need yew to do some snooping haround!! There's word of a new player hin town!! Goes by the name of Sammy the Shark!!"

"I've heard of him," I grunt, "what do you want me to do about him?"

"I hwant yew to look hinto him - see what sort of hoperation he running!!"

"Hoperation? Isn't that surgery for bunnies?"

"This his no time for hidiotics!!" I thought it wise not to make the obvious 'awful joke' pun on that word as I crossed my arms.

"Mayor...Sammy the Shark...is a shark."

"I know that - what do I look like to yew?" A fool?!"

"Something like that..."

"HWHAT?!"

"I said 'Nothing like that!' But, seriously, he's a shark, is our Sammy - as in 'grey and rubbery, all fins and teeth'. A bit like my ex-wife, in fact."

"...Oh. Not a real, honest-to-life shark?"

"Yessir, the newest acquisition to our Sea Land, I believe."

"...So, not a loanshark in any way?"

"Not unless you owe him some fish, I wouldn't reckon."

"Oh...Oh, I'm sorry, I seem to have wasted your time, Mr. Hammer. My sincerest hapologies..."

"I'd much rather have your money," I retort dryly, hand out over the desk, "I did solve your mystery, after all."

"Yes, yes, quite right!" his pudgy fingers fumble around the tight gap of his breast pocket, and draws out a single crisp, green note. " There yew go!"

"Whooo, a whole dollar," I growl as I take the money, "I can finally get the Ferrari I always wanted!"

"On layaway, no doubt. Well thank yew, Mr. Hammer!! Another job well done!! I'll be shoving hoff now!!"

Now, usually I'd be the first in line when it came to bullying the Hoff, but right now my mind was too busy prioritising which single grocery I needed the most. "Huh," was all I could manage.

My attention only came back to the world around me when I heard the distinctive thud of an oar against the wall of the hallway outside, closely followed by the thump-thump-thump of downstair sailing. "Nutter," I mutter as I rise from my desk.

I grab my trench coat and throw it on, buckling it. I'm about to head out when I decide to put on my fedora as well - it's been so long since I've left the office, I thought it best to go out in style (something I fully intend to do later on in life, but that's another story entirely).

I pull the brim of my hat down tightly over my head, and head out of the office.

I walk slap-bang into the closed door.

Maybe I should leave the fedora at home...