The Case Of The Cases: Chapter I

Ben Hansen

As we open, we see that it is yet another slow morning at Ben and
Hugh's detective agency. Ben was trying to flick a piece of chalk he'd
found on the street outside into Hugh's coffee, while Hugh was
rewiring Ben's desk lamp to electrocute his chair the next time he
turned it on. Then, of course, the door opened.
The person who stuck his head in was surprisingly average. There was
absolutely nothing unusual about him. His was the sort of face you
wouldn't recall ten minutes after meeting him.
"Yes?" Ben asked, smiling quietly as a small splash rose from Hugh's mug.
"Is this the detective agency I've heard so much about?"
"The incredibly good one or the incredibly bad one?" Hugh asked.
"The cheap one."
"Then come right in, sir! What's your problem?"
"Well," the man said, "it's like this." He pulled out a briefcase. The
briefcase was, once again, depressingly unnoticeable.
"What about it?" Ben asked.
"It's not mine," responded the man with panache.
"Right..."
"And it's full of money."
"And where's the problem?" Hugh asked.
"I accidentally picked it up, thinking it was mine," the man replied.
"And now I want mine back. It had incredible sentimental value, so I'm
willing to exchange all this money for its safe return."
"Okay... Well, just give us the money, I mean the briefcase, and tell
us where you think the switch happened, and we'll get right on it,"
Ben said to the briefcase.
"Right." The man supplied them with the relevant information and left.
When the second client came in, Ben and Hugh were jumping up and down
on a crowbar lodged in the briefcase next to the lock.
"Open, you son of a - Yes?" Hugh said.
"Hello, are you the private eyes I've heard so much about?" The lady asked.
"We've done that joke," Hugh said. "What's wrong?"
"I want you to track my husband," the lady said, upsetting both Ben
and Hugh. And she was pretty, as well. What a waste of a potential
romance.
"Any reason?" Ben asked.
"He's been spending far too much time away from home," she replied. "I
think he's... he's..."
"Yes?" Ben and Hugh leaned closer, imagining the fun of comforting a
woman whose husband was cheating on her.
"He's... Playing raquetball." She burst into tears.
"What?" Ben and Hugh deflated.
"He's a doctor, you see."
"Hmmm. I see. Well, we'll get right on it," Ben said. "Just give us
his adress, etcetera..."
She did, and she left.
"Wow, two cases at once," Hugh muttered. "Usually we don't get two a month!"
"I know," Ben agreed excitedly. "We'll have to do 2 things at once.
What a twist!"
There was a brief pause as Hugh considered this.
"You call THAT a twist?" He eventually replied.
"Well, it's a test of our skills, anyway," Ben answered. "Let's get started."
squinting at the poorly-written addresses, he sat in his chair and
switched on his lamp. Hugh watched eagerly, sipping on his coffee.