Our own vintage town

[Jack Patch]

Always wanted to be a detective in the 30's or 40's. This town need a well dressed cop?

 

[jamespowers]

Always wanted to be a detective in the 30's or 40's. This town need a well dressed cop?

Well. you certainly have the first name for it Jack. We need someone to shadow people and do the PI thing.

 

[Jack Patch]

A .38, pack of lucky strikes and a fedora. Ready for duty.

 

[Shangas]

A .38, pack of lucky strikes and a fedora. Ready for duty.

You also need the appropriate music:

[video=youtube;vG9jkM4kB08]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vG9jkM4kB08[/video]

...and a sarcastic, skeptical deadpan voiceover track...

It was Friday night and the rain was pouring outside. I sat alone in my office huffin' on my latest pack of smokes. The clock said four thirty, but it looked like nine. With summer rain and heat and thunder, came the summer pace of crime. Too damn hot to do anything but pinch bags and hustle at pool. Nothing worthwile for me to pay attention to. Behind, a radio was playin' some drowsy track that was lulling me to sleep faster than a shot of chloroform.

The track ended on the radio and some sort of news-report came on. I heard a car pull up outside, the gleam from its lights bouncing off the road and jumping all the way up to my office on the first floor. The lights turned off, a door slammed, and I heard the 'click-click-click' of shoes. A door opened, a door slammed. The hollow clunk of more shoes. A pause. More shoes. A stop. A ruffling of an umbrella being closed and a buzzing sound.

"Come in!"

There she was. Wearing some dark hat with a brim so wide she could grow a whole orchard on it, never mind the fake fruit salad that she had up there already. She was wearing a sort of wine-red dress trimmed with some fuzzy stuff. She took off her hat and dark red curls poured out and jiggled and bounced around her shoulders. She hung the hat and the umbrella on the rack.

"Good evening", I said. "Can I help with the coat?"

"Thank you, no. But you could help with this", she said. "You are Mr. Steele?"

"Says the name on the door".

"Good. I want you to find this man".

She sat down on one of the few other chairs in the room, and opened her handbag, a black, shiny leather thing that looked like it was made of imitation crocodile. She closed the lid with a 'click' that sounded just like the jaws of the real thing, and put a photograph on my desk. I turned it over. 'July, '42' was written on the back.

"I haven't seen him since that photograph was taken. It was just before he shipped out. Could you find him?"

"The war's been over two years. It'll be hard".

"Well try..."

 

[jamespowers]

You also need the appropriate music:

[video=youtube;vG9jkM4kB08]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vG9jkM4kB08[/video]

...and a sarcastic, skeptical deadpan voiceover track...

It was Friday night and the rain was pouring outside. I sat alone in my office huffin' on my latest pack of smokes. The clock said four thirty, but it looked like nine. With summer rain and heat and thunder, came the summer pace of crime. Too damn hot to do anything but pinch bags and hustle at pool. Nothing worthwile for me to pay attention to. Behind, a radio was playin' some drowsy track that was lulling me to sleep faster than a shot of chloroform.

The track ended on the radio and some sort of news-report came on. I heard a car pull up outside, the gleam from its lights bouncing off the road and jumping all the way up to my office on the first floor. The lights turned off, a door slammed, and I heard the 'click-click-click' of shoes. A door opened, a door slammed. The hollow clunk of more shoes. A pause. More shoes. A stop. A ruffling of an umbrella being closed and a buzzing sound.

"Come in!"

There she was. Wearing some dark hat with a brim so wide she could grow a whole orchard on it, never mind the fake fruit salad that she had up there already. She was wearing a sort of wine-red dress trimmed with some fuzzy stuff. She took off her hat and dark red curls poured out and jiggled and bounced around her shoulders. She hung the hat and the umbrella on the rack.

"Good evening", I said. "Can I help with the coat?"

"Thank you, no. But you could help with this", she said. "You are Mr. Steele?"

"Says the name on the door".

"Good. I want you to find this man".

She sat down on one of the few other chairs in the room, and opened her handbag, a black, shiny leather thing that looked like it was made of imitation crocodile. She closed the lid with a 'click' that sounded just like the jaws of the real thing, and put a photograph on my desk. I turned it over. 'July, '42' was written on the back.

"I haven't seen him since that photograph was taken. It was just before he shipped out. Could you find him?"

"The war's been over two years. It'll be hard".

"Well try..."

We can't have him being followed all over town with a big band though.

 

[Shangas]

No, that may be a problem. We'll figure out something.

 

[Jack Patch]

Life would be better is everyone had their own theme music that played when they entered a room.

 

[jamespowers]

Life would be better is everyone had their own theme music that played when they entered a room.

Make my theme:
[video=youtube_share;xwCYBJe0o2M]http://youtu.be/xwCYBJe0o2M[/video]

 

[Jack Patch]

I need a closet that size. The suit and hat collection would be nice too.

 

[jamespowers]

I need a closet that size. The suit and hat collection would be nice too.

I need two closets that size.

 

[LockDoc]

I will be the Locksmith.

 

[V.C. Brunswick]

Now we've got a hotel!

Bridlington, UK

 

[Shangas]

*Ding-ding-ding!!*

"Bellhop! Take this gentleman's bags upstairs..."

 

[jamespowers]

Now we've got a hotel!

Bridlington, UK

Yes, it just got past the Board of Zoning last night.

 

[hatguy1]

Our vintage town would need a newspaper. I'll volunteer to help with that. I love to write and take pictures. And I could stick a business card in my fedora's band with PRESS printed on it.

 

[Shangas]

I will happily contribute a weekly column to the paper. *cranks paper into his typewriter*

 

[jamespowers]

I will happily contribute a weekly column to the paper. *cranks paper into his typewriter*

I think Lizzie already runs the Willoughby Post.

 

[Hep Caterina]

Good heavens..you all know what would happen dont you? The town would be inundated with people wanting to move there! then what? you know it will begin to degrade if that happens- are you prepared to have population limits?

 

[Fibber Mcgee]

This is nice. I often thought of this myself. I was thinking of starting from scratch with a central square type setup. Would definitely need a soda fountain and movie theater ( no new movies) and no new cars inside town limits. I think there are enough of us to do it if we weren't so spread out.

 

[dhermann1]

The main sticking point always winds up being snow. There are snow lovers and snow haters, and never the twain shall meet. But we could have a warm town and a cold town and connect them by twain.