The Faggot Rapist

They were calling him the Faggot Rapist. He would shave a woman's head, cut her tits off, hot glue gun a dildo to her pussy and then rape her in the ass. Well, who do you think they gave the job to? I was the best in the business--if anyone to catch this creep, it was me. The first thing I needed? Whiskey. Whiskey always made me think clearer. I needed a clear head to catch this fella. Just then a dame walks in, asks me if I've got a match. She's a tall glass of water, beautiful, and I want nothing to do with her. "Listen, toots, I got a job to do," I tell her, "now get the hell out of here before I have you arrested." So the broad stormed out-- what else is new? I had to think. It was a gay guy doing the raping, but how do you tell if a fella's gay or straight? I walk outside and slug the first guy I see. "Listen, punk, does this get you off? Do you like this?" I pulled my big cock out and I'm waving it in his face. "You get your rocks off to this? This what you like to see, buddy boy?" He's grossed out, disgusted--he's not my man. There are a thousand people in this town, I'll never catch the creep at this rate. Suddenly, I catch an idea. The dildos, they were all the same. If I could just find out who was buying all those dildos, I'd have my guy. I'm staking out the sex shop and waiting to see who's coming in. Suddenly a man with glasses, a real creep, is walking toward the store, when he spots me. He gets spooked. He runs off, but I catch up to him and shoot him in the back. I never miss a shot. I'm back at the office, drinking my whiskey, when another dame comes in telling me how much she appreciates my work. I say, "Listen, sweetheart, but I don't want nothing to do with you--now get the hell out of my office before I have you arrested." In this business, the trouble never stops.