Characters

I've been a tad too serious around here lately so I thought I'd toss out a question and slip in a flash piece.

So, my question is, "Do you prefer to write/read your stories with a familiar character or do you prefer a new character every time out?"

I've written my share of "series" character stories, my favorite being a PI named Buck Tuff and his ex-wife and PI partner, Irma. I created Buck and Irma back in 2005 as a parody of the hard boiled genre. I threw in all the usual cliches of mob bosses and dames then twisted it with a bit of slap stick humor, creating an entire cast of characters that I just love. The stories were a hit in my flash group and I've had about twenty of them published, all flash pieces. But the trouble with Buck and Irma was they were always stuck in a situation instead of solving crimes which keeps them from being taken seriously in the crime genre.

My other problem with writing the same character and same type of story was if I chose to write something darker with a different character I was told, okay that was nice, but where's Buck and Irma? Which made me wonder why writers stick with just one set of characters and do they eventually get bored writing them over and over?

Now here's the flash I promised. It features one of my favorite B&I characters, a stripper named Chickadee Fields, better known as Chickie.

Hallelujah Chickie

When my buddy, Smiley, told me he needed help, I didn't expect to be getting' my ears preached back by some Bible thumper. After all, Smiley owns the House of Strippers. And while we get to gander at a lot of heavenly bodies, it sure don't put a guy in contact with a lot of preacherly types.

But here we are balancing on some rickety folding chairs, gettin' our shoes filled with sawdust, and listening to the Reverend Billy DeWole tellin' God to bring down his wrath on us poor sinners. Now, I ain't never done nothin' to this fella, so I'm takin' exception to him tellin' God to shoot me down like a gutter rat.

"Smiley, why the hell did you drag me down to this moldy old tent to listen to some holy roller tell me I ain't any good?"

"He's got Chickie, Buck, and I want her back," whispers Smiley.

"What do you mean, he's got Chickie. What does a preacher want with a stripper? I take that back. What does Chickie want with a preacher?"

"He's got her convinced she needs savin'."

"Savin' from what?"

"From me," moans Smiley.

"You ain't never hurt Chickie, never laid a hand on her, at least not to hurt her."

"I love that flutter-brained twit, so you and me are gonna kidnap her outta this tent and take her home. That preacher man don't know who he's dealin' with here. That thief just wants all the cash he can get his hands on and all the layin' on of hands he can get. Especially layin' on of my Chickie."

"How did Chickie meet up with this Reverend Wolf in the first place?" I ask.

"He was holdin' a sermonizing on the evils of naked women in my parkin' lot when Chickie walked out the door. He laid on his hands and run off with her. And I aim to lay on fists to get her back."

"Is there something you ain't tellin' me Smiley? Chickie's been out-maneuvering mauling fingers for years. How come she didn't side-step this snake oil preacher?"

"Retribution."

"Chickie ain't got a retibuting bone in her body. And why would she start with a preacher?"

"Do you remember that young stripper named Lollypop?" asked Smiley.

I nod my head. What that girl could do with a lollypop was hard to forget.

"Well, that preacher was castin' his bread upon the waters around here last year and talked her right outta the club and into his bed. Got her knocked up and left her high and dry out in Kansas. When Chickie found out, she swore she'd make him pay, but I'm thinkin' something must have gone wrong."

"Why would you think that?"

"I heard a couple of guys sayin' as how she was gonna be on stage with the preacher tonight. Gonna tell all us sinners how the reverend saved her sweet butt."

I'm lookin' at Smiley when his eyes double back in their sockets. I turn to look at the stage and need a slap to the back of my head to realign my own eyeballs.

I ain't never seen Chickie over-dressed, but there she is in all her covered splendor. Only her naked ankles nosin' out of a pair of gold sequined sneakers. She's smilin' like she's standin' next to Jesus instead of a rattler.

The Reverend fires up a little background music on his tape player. "It's time for a little testimony now, folks," says our Holy Joe. "Chickie, tell these fine folks how you seen the light."

"Well, I worked at Smiley's House of Strippers over on Angel's Boulevard. Two shows a night and three on Saturday."

"That's what you done, now tell us how you was saved."

"I'm much better at showin' then tellin', Reverend," says Chickie.

"Then show us, Sister Chickie."

Chickie's right at home on stage havin' spent most of her life there. And she knows how to bring out the best in a crowd. As the tape slides into a rockin' rendition of "Bringing in the Sheaves". Chickie starts shedding her sheaves. The blue-haired ladies in the crowd cover their eyes and head for the tent flaps. The gentlemen in the audience start clappin' and cheerin'. It's gotta be the best damn revival they've ever attended.

The Reverend Billy DeWolfe is tryin' to wrap Chickie up in a choir robe, but once she gets started there ain't no stoppin' her. As she dances down to her tassels, the Reverend prostrates himself on the ground, rollin' around like he's in pain.

But it ain't forgiveness he's seekin' down there in the sawdust. It's the dollar bills the crowd is tossin' to Chickie. While he's busy gatherin' up his collection, me and Smiley grab Chickie off the stage and head for higher ground before the cops get there to shut down the Reverend Bible Thumper.

I'm thinkin' God could take a few retribution lessons from Chickie.