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BANANATINIS FOR BREAKFAST
by J. Hopkins

Hank Headbutt, Crime City's primo private dick, awoke from a wondrous dream.
He was lying on a primitive bed, surrounded by many swarthy men in exotic masks.
They must have brought me back using their mysterious voodoo magics, Hank thought.
"We have brought you back using our strange voodoo magics." the men said.
"The hell you did!" Hank exclaimed. "Why?"
"The sacred idol of N'Kumba -clickclick- yeya was stolen from our village." said the men. "We need you to track it down."
"Stop talking all at once." Hank said. "It's incredibly distracting."
"Sorry." they replied.
"Forget about it." said Hank. "This case is mine. And could you plug up this hole in my neck?"
Outside, a toucan roared.

To be continued...