The Case of the Missing Dick

The case started as a straightforward matter of redistributing ownership of some WINNINGS and quickly turned into a cluster fuck with more moving parts than a Swiss watch.

‘From ‘the Shoubu Life’. Memoirs of Mason Holland – Student PI’ By Mason Holland.

You head to The Bombshell Diner. Nice place, good service even if the waitresses all look the same. Literally.

You are enjoying your steak San Marco and a bourbon when an unwelcome sight approaches your booth.

Professor Belinda Hugo. One of the foremost professors of film studies at Shoubu. She doesn’t exactly look like your average Faculty member though. She is a smoking hot goth, the full nine yards. Tight black strapless t-shirt that showed her ample cleavage. Black denim short shorts set off by suspender stockings showed her fine pins. Her hair was done out in a long pony tail and her beautiful features adorned with various trinkets and piercings.

It was something of an understatement to say that she wasn't your greatest fan. It might have been because she had figured you were only teaching to help out your PI work.

Or because you didn’t attend half the Faculty meetings you were supposed to.

Then again it could have been that incident two years ago. Two months of passionate sex, declarations of mutual desire and even love leading to her giving up the chance of tenure at the Sorbonne, followed by you not calling her for a year. You weren’t intentionally ghosting. Things just got away from you.

She stops at your table and glowers “Why are you here Mason?”

“Evening Belinda. Just having dinner Professor, you want?" you ask, indicating the menu.

“No Mason. I don’t want. Why aren’t you in your office?” she virtually growls.

“Office is closed,” you say feigning ignorance at what she means.

“Your academic office dipshit. You are meant to be marking assignments. You were meant to return your film theory class assignments back to the students at midday."

“Of course! But don’t worry they’re completed,” you lie. “Looks like mid 60s% for everyone apart from the bottom quarter, mid-fifties there and top three students get 70% 82%, and 90% respectively,” you reflect to yourself. “But no stress Belinda, I’ll send them this evening for first…”

She cuts your excuse off “You missed two lectures this week.”

“Food poisoning and the other was GAME related. There was a GAME related incident.”

That much was true, not your GAME but it was GAME related.

She slams her hand down on the table. “Stop screwing me around Mason. I’m tired of your bullshit.” She holds up her thumb and forefinger so they are almost touching “I am this close to having you thrown out. I’ve already put another warning-citation in about you.”

You say nothing. Certainly not that you didn’t give a rat’s ass about an academic warning-citation. You don’t want to antagonise her exactly, but citations? Please. Warning-citations didn’t go anywhere in Shoubu’s academic bureaucracy.

She produced a form of half a dozen stapled pages. “And I have been given this to fill out.” It was a Faculty professional annual report appraisal form. Now this was different. Failing that appraisal would be the end of the line.

“It’s the head of the Department, Senior Professor Tullis that completes those for our branch of…” you begin to protest.

Again she interrupts you “Yes, and he’s given it to me to complete. You’re not the only that can play games Mason.”

“You played a GAME to get that?” You didn’t realise Belinda was gunning for you this hard.

“No” She leans forward over the desk hands wide; palms face down. Damn her breasts looked good. “I didn’t have to. Professor Tullis was happy to get this chore off his desk. And he said he was happy to sign whatever I wrote.”

“So, uh I’m guessing that the reason you’re telling me this is because I have some opportunity to get a reprieve,” you say hopefully.

“I am telling you this because apparently it’s the only leverage I can use,” she says with a surface calm but with barely concealed anger. “As far as Tullis is concerned you’re on the scaffold itself. He thinks you’ll be gone by year end.” She stands up. “But luckily for you I am making your appraisal decision this year.” You didn't feel lucky. You detect an ounce less anger in her voice now “You know your film theory, and how it relates to the magic of Shoubu better than some tenured professors. The department can use that. But I am through chasing you Mason.”

“How about a GAME?” you offer.

“No chance. I am tenured professor. The University GAME rules mean you can’t challenge me. Stop screwing around Mason.” She returns the form to her bag. “Put. In. The. Hours. Or you don’t have a reason to be at Shoubu!”

With that she turns on a heel and walks away her fine ass swaying deliciously in her tight shorts.

You turn your head and leaning out the booth to watch her leave.

“Hey Belinda?” you call after her.

She stops and looks at you unimpressed.

“You haven’t stopped chasing me.” you give her a wink.

She gives you a look that could wither plant life.

“The fucking hours Mason!” she repeats before striding away. Even at this distance you can hear her speaking to herself, “Fucking asshole!”

She leaves the diner. Through the front window of the diner you see her walk around to her car which was parked out front. She was obviously still pissed off.

While you are distracted watching Professor Hugo, a tall jock student in a Shoubu Were-Ravens sweat shirt slides in to your booth. He has brown hair, a crew-cut and a pale face. Everything seems pretty generic about him except his frantic panicked look.

“Shit! Thank god I found you. You’re Mason Holland, right?”

“Sometimes” you answer. “_Doesn’t anyone look up office opening hours anymore?” _Your steak San Marco is getting cold.

“You gotta help me man.” he says breathlessly and without preamble “A goth chick has got my balls!”

You look out the window watching the raven-haired Hugo get into her car.

“Tell me about it kid...” you sigh.