Lovesong To A Bearded Lady

By K Kishmot

adventure with detective ken phictos into a dark world of characters who think they have some relation to alice in wonderland but who exist on the borders between insanity and evil. beautiful moustachioed miranda is a poetry fanatic and with her lover humpty trades in illegal organs and opium. can ken phictos hold back the tide of evil?

• Language: English
• Publisher: K Kishmot
• Release date: Oct 11, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466024007

K Kishmot

K.Kishmot was born in Tehran somewhere in the late nineteen sixties or early seventies. He is British and Iranian, half and half. For a long time he lived in London. He has written a number of screenplays and made short films. He has also written songs. Ghosts Haunt Aftermaths is Kishmot's second novel. It was finished ostensibly in 2001 but Ghosts Haunt Aftermaths is only now nearly ready. Kishmot abandoned his third novel, To Find Love You Must Climb a Thornbush of Roses but around the same time he was creating a children's story. Kishmot's first novel Ten Days to Remus was written when he was sixteen and was a work of science-fiction. Kishmot is at work on his fourth novel, about the culture of billionaires and humanity's love-hate relationship with war. He is writing a new children's book and is planning to get back to film. Kishmot is again also writing screenplays and working on a few electronic ambient pieces of music.

Book preview

LOVESONG TO A BEARDED LADY

Published by K Kishmot at Smashwords

Copyright 2011

Caption: A NEW CAREER IN AN OLD CITY

1.INT DAY KEN PHICTOS DETECTIVE AGENCY OFFICE

KEN PHICTOS plays an old 45 of the Rockford Files theme tune. He is dressed like James Garner in said series. In his sparse office: desk, basic telephone, answering-machine and nameplate: KEN PHICTOS P.I.

JOE, is a South Londoner too. Round glasses, same age as PHICTOS, slightly balding. He chews a finger-nail.

PHICTOS:(picking up the beat and singing) Ken Phictos is the man/ He'll even be famous in Japan/ He will be/ A man of history... (breaking off. South London accent) I tell you, Joe, I feel like a million dollars.

JOE: Well I hope it goes well for you,... (reading the name plate as though it were of great significance)... Ken Phictos P-I, mate. At the very least I can vouch for your lock picking skills.

PHICTOS: Thanks mate. I can vouch for your nose-picking skills.

JOE: Your nose-picking skills more like. Well let's not hope you have too much time to perfect that art... (looking at his watch)... Well I must be off. CELIA's doing a special this evening. (With relish) Bolognaise.

PHICTOS: I'm surprised she's decided to cook after all your years of gourmand like criticism. She used to like to cook for me... perhaps she will again one of these days. I bet she'd be delighted.

JOE: I wouldn't bet your detective agency on it.

PHICTOS: Wouldn't you?

JOE: You'd lose it if you did. Basically. (PHICTOS does an oh Yeah nod) CELIA only cooks on rare occasions. It is something she hates, nay, abhors and only as a token of deep affection does she inconvenience her beautiful hands for my sake.

PHICTOS: Come off it... (pause) Your barbershop for my detective agency she'll cook for me.

JOE: Five hundred smackers not only says, but does a song and dance about it that she won't. Five hundred smackers.

PHICTOS: No. The barbershop for the detective agency?

JOE:(cautioning)You'll lose it, you'll lose it...

PHICTOS: Up yours I will. I'll make sure you set up an advice line to help people get over the trauma of your crap haircuts.

You wait my son.

JOE: I'm not your son... The punters love my haircuts. You included. I studied James Garner’s haircut one whole week (nodding at PHICTOS'S haircut) before doing you. Free, may I say... Ken's Farty Barbershop Adviceline. Some of the crap you've come out with in your day (pause)... can't match the crap you've come out with to-day.

PHICTOS: You wait my son (extending his hand) My detective agency for your barbershop. (JOE opens the door.) Joe, you've always shat your pants.

JOE leaves. PHICTOS looks at his nails. JOE returns, hand outstretched. He marches up to PHICTOS.

JOE: Right! you're on.

PHICTOS: I'm on what?

JOE: The bet. We'll shake on it. Let's see what a real shitpants looks like.

FADE OUT

TITLE: (1920s jazz music) lOVESONG tO A bEARDED Lady

FADE IN

2.INT DAY MRS BROGLE 'S FRONT-ROOM

MRS BROGLE:(VOICE OVER) He was some sort of sales bloke.

MRS BROGLE is an attractive smartly dressed woman in her forties with ash blond hair in the latest style. On the sofa with MRS BROGLE, a SALESMAN demonstrates a flexible tube that allows you to free your hands when you're on the phone. She is captivated by the SALESMAN'S charms and looks.

SALESMAN: See, if you move it to the left...

MRS BROGLE : But it really doesn't look all that sturdy.

SALESMAN:(standing up) Oh, so you're an expert are you?

MRS BROGLE:(VO continues) Then he leaves. Next day as I'm vacuuming - I vacuum every day -(actions as described)- the suction-head hits against something. It was near where he'd been sitting. I pick it up. It's a black wooden box.

MRS BROGLE opens the box: A Jack-in-the-box. A shrunken head springs out. She screams.

3.INT DAY KEN PHICTOS DETECTIVE AGENCY OFFICE

It is now evening. The Jack-in-the-box is on PHICTOS'S desk. The head is swaying. PHICTOS glances at it uneasily.

MRS BROGLE: I took it to the police. It looked just like my husband. It looked real. I couldn't find the card the salesman had given me, if he had given me a card that is. The police said they examined it and it wasn't real. As for my husband, he's been missing for four months, they said there was nothing they could do about it apart from what they'd done. Everyone has a right to go missing if they want to. Apparently.

PHICTOS: That was helpful.

MRS BROGLE: Exactly my thoughts Detective Phictos, eggsactly my thoughts.

PHICTOS: So, did your husband disappear after an argument?

MRS BROGLE: No. I had the dinner