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Triple Threat
Triple Threat
Triple Threat
Ebook75 pages42 minutes

Triple Threat

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Heavily influenced by the wonderful comic novels of the great Donald Westlake, author Vince Iuliano embarks on a life of (virtual) crime in some short character studies of the way crime ought to be. Not fruitful perhaps but light and tasty confections without added calories or guilt. The perps? The one that started it all : "Last Will and Testicle", followed by a sequel of sorts called "Horse of a Different Color." Wrapping it up at the top of the stretch, we find an odd little stand-alone called "The Push-over" which gives new meaning to giving up everything for love.
Klepto's, nudists, petty theft and prisons from the inside out, this is a rainy day morsel to be savored. Hopefully you'll find some of it laugh out loud funny, or at least true to its dictum that Crime Does Not Pay......unless you do it right!

LanguageEnglish
PublisherVince Iuliano
Release dateFeb 5, 2018
Triple Threat
Author

Vince Iuliano

Freelance writer. Staunch crusader for truth, justice and the American Way..(writes under various names. You could be reading me right now, and not know it!)

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    Book preview

    Triple Threat - Vince Iuliano

    ©copyright Vince Iuliano 2017-2021

    This is a collection of previously released short pieces that I am particularly fond of. Theyr’e light, fluffy and hopefully won’t leave a messy aftertaste. They’ve never appeared in this form before – together – for whatever that means.

    I sincerely hope that you enjoy them.

    The Author

    Last Will and Testicle

    Short Crime Fiction by Vince Iuliano

    © 2014-2021 by Vince Iuliano

    1.

    I’ve never been a sentimental man (no more sentimental than any other poor shlub out there), so I’m going to try to keep this brief.

    The doctors are all telling me to get my affairs in order (whatever the hell that means), and I suppose at this point its more of a waiting game to see who outlasts who (or whom, I never paid too much attention to all that English crap in school).

    I have no illusions – the House always wins.

    And people will say a lot of made –up hooey over my grave, and everyone will feel assuaged and probably go out to eat at some nice restaurant.

    Life goes on. It has to.

    If you’re reading this, you’re probably feeling a little antsy, and wanting nothing more than to skip to the chase. Am I right? Fast forward to the end, when I reveal which of my hard won treasures I bequeath to you.

    I don’t blame you at all, not in the least, but I’m afraid I’m not going to go quite so gently into that good night.

    Suck it up, my friend, we’ve got some territory to cover. You may even (who the hell knows) learn something along the way. Though I must confess, I hold out little hope for a complete about face. Most people, I find, are stuck in their little boxes.

    Why sample Thai when you’ve spent your whole goddam life eating pizza?

    *

    Did you ever get a really disappointing gift on your birthday or for Christmas? Something you know took absolutely no thought or effort, like a pair of new socks or a book on a topic you have no interest in whatsoever.

    You know that feeling you had of disappointment and also perhaps a little anger that, with just a little effort, it didn’t have to feel like a ZONK from Let’s Make a Deal ?

    It might have been a chance to experience something magical, something wondrous, but it was squandered instead.

    Well, that’s how I felt nearly every day of my life.

    Every goddam day opened like a beautiful Disney movie but always ended in disappointment. Well, not every day, but enough of them for me to think of myself as a generally depressed-optimist. I couldn’t allow myself to get carried away with happiness because the other shoe would invariably drop.

    Disappointment was my lot.

    *

    Not to make too fine a point of the whole damn thing but I learned to appreciate life on its own terms. When life serves you lemons, twist the little bastards into your drink, right?

    By the time I got married, I was close to 40. Can’t blame the dear, sweet lass for any of my shortcomings at that late stage of the game. By 40, the cut of my jib was already established (so to speak). My heart’s

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