Word: Sawbones

  

sawbones

[saw-bohnz]

noun, plural sawbones, sawboneses. (used with a singular verb) Slang.

1. a surgeon or physician.

 ***********************************

 There was a quiet murmur in the room.  The lack of CO told the officers and detectives that they could talk quietly among themselves until the briefing started.  They did not have much time.  The Sergeant entered the room and all talk ended.  The head of the police department looked around the room for a moment before speaking.

    “Good morning, and thank you all for coming.” He said it like any of them had a choice.  When the Sergeant called a meeting, everyone called had to come.  “In front of each of you, you will find today’s report.”  There was a shuffling of papers as each officer present examined the first page of the report.  Once they saw what they were dealing with, they could not keep quiet.  Sound filled the room as the officers showed their distaste for what they were seeing.

    “Quiet down.” The Sergeant said.  It took a few moments, but the chatter died down.  “As you can all see, we’ve got another Sawbones murder on our hands.” THe briefing room filled with grumbles.  “I know, I know.  I don’t like the name either, but it’s what we were given.  And, given recent information, it is increasingly relevant.

    “The victim today is a Caucasian male, age 27, name Gregory Sampson.  Like the other three, he we found dismembered and dissected.  Reports of the call, time and location of discovery, and other important information can be found in the report.  As unfortunate as this is, it has made us increasingly sure that our killer is a doctor, surgeon, or has high end medical knowledge.”

One of the detectives raised his hand.  The Sergeant nodded his permission for the man to speak.  “What makes you say that?  Sure the cuts are clean, but anyone with the proper tools can do that.”

“There are three reasons.” The Sergeant said.  “One is that these are not just clean cuts.  These are highly precise, and were made along very specific parts of the body.  Each cut actually caused minimal damage, except for those that removed a limb.  Only someone with extensive medical training is likely to be able to perform such dissections.  Second is the state all the victims were in.  None of the victims were healthy.  Take Mr. Sampson here.  He was found with extensive bone fractures in his arms, legs, chest and head.  However, there were signs of at least a week’s worth of recovery, so they are not due to any actions by Sawbones.  All his victims show either a severe injury or disease, although none were immediately deadly.  All the victims were hospitalized within a week of being murdered.  And finally, the cause of death.  All the major wounds shown in the report were done post mortem.  The actual cause of death in all four cases is a cocktail of drugs that are found in hospitals.  Basically, they were medicated to death.  What’s important here are the drugs used.  They are only found in hospitals, and only medical professionals would have easy access to them.  Given these three facts, the likelihood of Sawbones being a doctor is very high, and unless evidence to the contrary shows up, we will operate under this assumption.  Any questions?”
    “Are there any suspects?” Another detective asked.

“As of this moment, no.  Motive is also unknown.  There are working theories, but nothing conclusive.  As of right now, our most likely motive is research.” That got the officers talking again, forcing the Sergeant to quiet them down again.  “Given the fact that the victims were each dissected in different ways, and with all organs accounted for, it seems likely that Sawbones is conducting some kind of illegal medical experiment, although what the purpose of it could be is unknown.  Like with the murderer’s identity, operate under this assumption until better evidence is presented.  Any other questions?”

There were several of them.  Questions about witnesses, about the victims, and others were asked.  But it was not long until the Sergeant had exhausted all his knowledge about the serial killer and his most recent kill.  He held his hands up to silence any further questions.

“I’m afraid that’s all the information I can currently provide.  All officers here will make this case their top priority.  I want you each to find out as much as you can at the crime scene and gather as many suspects and witnesses as you can.  Do everything you need to to catch this killer before he finds a new victim.  Dismissed.”

The officers shuffled out of the briefing room in a semi-orderly manner.  The Sergeant sighed and took another look at the crime report.  His eyes narrowed to slits.  He would see Sawbones arrested, even if he had to do the dirty work himself. 

***************

Obviously my knowledge of the workings of a police department are limited to what is seen on TV, making what is written here highly inaccurate.  As such, I apologize to any officers of the law who dislike such things.

Word: Jawbreaker

    

jawbreaker

[jaw-brey-ker]

noun

1. Informal. a word that is hard to pronounce.

2. a very hard, usually round, candy.

3. Also called jaw crusher. Mining. a machine used to break up ore, consisting of a fixed plate and a hinged jaw moved by a toggle joint.

******************************

It was a thing of beauty.  A perfectly round globe that seemed to shimmer in the light.  While much of its surface was white, dots of every color of the rainbow peppered its surface.  The twins looked up at the sphere with awe.  They swallowed a lump in their throat, knowing that the only thing separating them from pure bliss was a glass case and the word of their mother.

    They turned and looked at each other.  With an unspoken signal to each other, they knew what they had to do.  It only took a quick look around and saw their target.  They ran forward.

    “Mommy, mommy, we know what we want!” They shouted in perfect unison.

    The boy’s mother sighed.  She had positioned herself perfectly.  Close enough that she could keep an eye on her boys, but far enough away that she could get at least a semblance of quiet.  A moment of quiet that had lasted for much less time than she had hoped.

    “Okay, what is it?” She asked.  Each twin grabbed a different hand and together they pulled her towards the ball.  The woman took one look at it and frowned.  The jawbreaker was easily the size of a small bowling ball.  There was no way she was going to get that much candy.

    “Please mommy, please?” One of her sons said.  He opened his eyes wide and smiled.

    “We’ll be good, we promise.” Said the other.

    “We’ll share it all the time.”

    The children continued pleading with their mother.  She took a deep breath.  It was a lot of candy.  Too much for one person, for sure.  But then she thought about past experiences with jawbreakers.  She had once gotten them more reasonably sized ones, and they had lasted a month each.  This one would last at least a year, even if both of the boys kept eating it every day.  She could leverage this into not buying them any other sweets for as long as the giant ball of candy existed.  It might actually be worth it.

“Okay, let’s see here.”  SHe eyed the display and her eyes bulged.  “F-fifty dollars!”  She exclaimed.  That was too much.  Far too much.  

“Is there a problem, ma’am?” The question came from behind the counter.  The man was younger than her, probably in his twenties.  He was fairly thin, and had an odd sheen to him.  

“Is this price correct?  This can’t be $50.”

“Oh, I promise you, it’s worth much more than that.  In fact, I’m practically giving it away at that price.”

“You can’t be serious?  I mean, yeah, it’s big, but it’s still a ball of sugar.  It can’t be worth more than thirty.”

The man looked offended.  “Ma’am, I assure you, this is no ordinary confection.  This is a work of art.”

“Art?  Really?”

“Oh yes, this is an artisanal piece.  It was made over the course of six months by a master confectioner using only the highest quality, organic ingredients.  Every grain of sugar used was steeped for weeks in fruit juices for maximum flavor, with each combination of juices planned and designed to work with each other.  Each layer of the finished product was carefully arranged to perfectly synergize with the layers above and below it.  It was hand dipped thousands of times, and each layer was scrutinized and perfected before another layer was added. Trust me when I say, ma’am, that this is probably the greatest jawbreaker ever made by human hands.”

The twins watched the salesman.  They had no idea what some of those words meant, but they sounded good.  It made them want the ball of dreams all the more.

“It’s a big ball of hardened sugar, not gourmet dining.” The woman said.

The man took a step back and clutched his chest.  “Ma’am, I will ask you not to insult this piece.  Who’s to say confections cannot be fine dining?  I see, you must be used to, ugh, brand name candies.  I shudder to think that such fine boys were brought up with such...base sweets.  Trust me boys, once you try this, you’ll never go back to things in a grocery store.”

“Why not?” One of the boys said.

“Because this...this magnificent work of art with change the way you view candy forever.”

The boys looked at the glass covered ball.  Before, it had merely been a grand dream.  Not, it was akin to a thing divine.  The light playing off its surface made it seem to glow with holy light.  They somehow managed to tear their eyes from the holy orb and look pleadingly at their mother.

“No.” She said firmly.  “It’s too much, it’s too expensive.  I’m sorry boys, you’ll just have to pick something else.”

“You know, if you’d like, I do have smaller versions of the same thing.  You won’t get the true experience, as many of the flavors are missing, but they are considerably more portable.  And affordable.” The saleman said.  He reached behind him and plucked two candy balls off a shelf behind him.  They did indeed look like smaller versions of the big one.

The boys looked at their mother hopefully.  The real prize was out of their reach, but these would do just as well for their needs.

“Fine, fine.  How much?”

“$3.50 each.”

“Th-three…” She took a deep breath to calm her nerves.  Seven was still quite a bit more affordable than fifty.  It still seemed like she was being ripped off.  “Okay, fine, wrap them up.  But these had better be the best damn jawbreakers in the world.”

“Oh, no worries there, ma’am.  The only thing better than these is what’s in this case.” He said while stroking the glass display lovingly.  “Unless you buy this, you will never taste anything better.”

The woman grumbled, but payed for the supposedly gourmet candies.  The boys squealed with delight as they watched the salesman carefully wrap each jawbreaker in a separate bag.  Their joy became all the greater when they actually held the packages in their young hands.

“Okay, you have your candy, now let’s go.” The woman said.  She led the twins out of the candy store, hoping she had not made a terrible mistake.

************************************

I'm not going to lie, I had fun writing this one.  Just the idea of a "gourmet" jawbreaker is fun to think about.  And making the size of a bowling ball may be overkill, but that's half the fun, isn't it?

Word: Moribund

moribund

[mawr-uh-buhnd, mor-]

adjective

1. in a dying state; near death.

2. on the verge of extinction or termination.

3. not progressing or advancing; stagnant:

a moribund political party.

******************************************

    The man’s skin was the color of snow.  His breathing was ragged and shallow.  His eyes were half glazed and unfocused as he looked up at the sky.  Seeing the man lying there in such a state, Chris did the only thing he could reasonably be expected to:

    “Are you okay?” He asked.

    He knew he should not have asked it.  It was obvious the man was anything but okay.  ANd yet, it was the only thing he could think to do.  Had he been able, Chris would have kicked himself.  The man slowly turned his head and looked like he echoed Chris’ unspoken desire for the kicking of his own person.

    “Sorry, that was stupid.” Chris said, attempting to apologize.  The man let out a long wheeze that was probably supposed to be a sigh.

    “Great.  An overly apologetic idiot on top of a cripple.” The man said.  His voice was strained and thin.  Chris had to lean in close to hear the words at all.

    “I’m not a cripple.” Chris said.  The man’s eyes wandered down to the thing that said otherwise.  “I prefer the term paraplegic.”

“Rose by any other name, kid.  Now listen up, I’d rather not do this to you, but I don’t have much of an option.  I need to give this to someone, and you’re the only one here.  So shut up and take it.”

The man’s hands shook as he reached into his pocket and retrieved a large, black flash drive.  He reached out, offering Chris to device.  He took it, not knowing what else to do.  He could not, in good conscious, refuse, after all.  

The drive looked fairly normal, but there was something off about it.  It was no heavier than any other flash drive of its size, but it felt more solid somehow.  Denser maybe, like it was made of some kind of reinforced plastic that was still light.

“Okay, and what am I supposed to do with it?”

“Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.” The man croaked out. “I mean it.  Listen up, kid, right now, I’m Zeus, you’re Pandora, and that’s the box.  Don’t ever use it.”

“Uh, you know Pandora opened the box in that story, right?”

“Yeah, and bad stuff happened because of it.  That’s why I’m telling you not to use that drive.  Don’t plug it in to anything computer related.  Ever.  In fact, it’s best if you don’t even show it to anyone.  Best to just put it somewhere and forget it.”

“Why?  What’s on it?” Chris turned the drive over in his hands, looking at the device critically.

“Bad stuff.  Really bad stuff.  Stuff some very bad people are willing to kill to get.  Right now, the only thing keeping you safe is that you haven’t used the drive.  Once you do, they’ll know, and they’ll come for you.”

“Oh come on.  Who’d hurt a guy in a wheelchair?”

“These people would.  They don’t care if you’re blind, deaf, and dumb.  They’ll kill you and everyone you know about to get that drive.  Trust me, the second you plug that in, you can consider yourself dead.  Hell, the only reason I’m not pushing up daisies now is because they underestimated how tough I am, and they still put me one foot in the grave.  Imagine what they’ll do to a guy who can’t even run.”

“Geeze, what’s on this thing, nuclear launch codes?”

The man let out a raspy laugh.  “Nukes?  Really?  Oh boy, you wish it was nukes.  Trust me, this makes nuclear weapons look like pea shooters.  I’m talking extinction level events here.  If you use that drive, you might as well cause the end of human life, period.  No survivors, no rebuilding.  We’ll just be gone.”

    Chris swallowed a lump in his throat.  “Maybe...I should get someone to run it over in their car or something?”

    “Yeah, good luck with that.  I’ve tried breaking it before. Thing’s tougher than it looks.  A tank couldn’t blast through that thing.”

    Chris was suddenly very scared.  What had he gotten himself into?  

    “YOu know what, I think I’ll just tie a rock to it and throw it in the ocean or something.  That should work, right?”

    The man thought about it.  “Maybe.  Haven’t tried seeing what salt water would do to it.  Hopefully it’ll work though.  Just make it really deep.  Shallow water won’t cut it here.”

    “I think I can do that.” Chris said.  He was unsure of anything, really.

    “Good. Now get out of here.  It’s only a matter of time before they find me, and you do not want to be here when they do.  Get as far from me as you can, as fast as you can.”

    “What...what about you?”

    “Me?  Kid, look at me.  I’ve got five, ten minutes tops.  I’m amazed I lasted this long, to be honest.  Don’t worry about me.  Now get that chair in gear and get out of here.”

    Chris nodded slowly, stuffed the apocalyptic flash drive in his pocket and started moving.  His mind raced as he went, his arms moving the wheels faster than he had ever gone before.  Once the man was out of sight, he stopped to think.  What should he do now?

**************************************

So, is the flash drive the end of the world?  Probably.  It's more interesting that way, don't you think?

 

Word: Thimblerig

      thimblerig

[thim-buh l-rig] 

noun

1.a sleight-of hand swindling game in which the operator palms a pelletor pea while appearing to cover it with one of three thimblelike cups,and then, moving the cups about, offers to bet that no one can tellunder which cup the pellet or pea lies.

verb (used with object), thimblerigged, thimblerigging.

2. to cheat by or as by the thimblerig.

***************

“Hey, Timmy!  Timmy, get over here!  I want to show you something.”

                Timmy put his toy car down and approached Uncle Ron.  The man’s smell wafted over the boy.  Timmy thought it smelled like smoke mixed with the stuff his mom used to clean with.  Both his parents told him not to ask what made the smell, so he ignored it.  

                “You know what these are?” Uncle Ron said.  He held up three red plastic cups and a small, blue glass bead.

                “Uh huh.” Timmy said.

                “Well, whatever you think, it’s wrong.  These things here are the only things you’ll ever need to live the good life.  It’s not easy to use them right, but once you do, it’s all you’ll ever need.  Come here, I’ll show you.” Uncle Ron put the bead on the cluttered coffee table and covered it with a cup.  He then placed the other two on either side of it.  “Now, I’m going to shuffle these around a bit, and I want you to tell me which cup has the bead under it, okay?”

                “Okay.” Timmy said.  He could do that.  He was good at that kind of thing.

                Timmy watched closely as his uncle shuffled the cups, changing their positions over and over.  When he was done, Timmy pointed to the left cup.  Uncle Ron lifted the cup, and sure enough, the bead was under it.

                “Nice going, kiddo.  But that’s not the end of things.  Try it again.”

                Uncle Ron replaced the bead and reshuffled the cups.  He moved his hands even slower than the first time.  Timmy almost laughed.  This was going to be easy.  Anyone could follow the right cup at that speed.  This time he pointed to the middle cup.  When it was lifted, there was nothing under it.  But how?  Timmy was certain that was the right cup.

                “Don’t feel too bad, kiddo.  You weren’t going to win this one, no matter what.  See?” Uncle Ron picked up the other two.  All of them were empty.

                “That’s cheating!” Timmy whined. 

                “This time, sure, since I asked which cup the bead is under.  But, see, here’s the catch.  Out in the real world, I’d ask where the bead is, and let people think it’s under a cup.  That way, it’s not cheating.  Now, want to know where the bead is?” Timmy nodded.  “Good kid.  It’s right here.”

                Uncle Ron shook his right hand and the bead slid out of his sleeve.  Timmy’s eyes widened.  It was like magic!

                “See, this whole thing’s a neat little trick.  The first time, when you got it right, you could’ve guessed any cup and been right.  Want to know why?  It’s because of these.”  He shook his left sleeve and two more identical beads slid out.  “All the cups had a bead under them the first time.  That’s the key to the whole thing.”

                “Why?” Timmy asked.

                “See, what you do, is you get people hooked by letting them win a few times.  You know, get them on a real winning streak.  Then you take the beads away and clean house on them.”

                “Why would you clean their house?” Timmy asked.  Uncle Ron chuckled.

                “Not that clean house.  I mean you get them to bet all their money, and then make them lose it.  Trust me, kid, this is a gold mine.  It’s not easy, but once you do, everything falls into place.  It’ll help you make friends, get you girls, and make tons of money.  Well, as long as you’re smart about it.”

                Timmy liked making friends, and money was apparently important.  But the girls thing was weird.  Why would he want to get girls?  They were gross.  The other two still sounded good though.

                “So, how about it, kiddo?  Want to learn the secret of good living?”

               ********************************

I never knew this had an actual name.  I always just assumed it was a cup game or a cup job or something similar to that.  Guess it's true what they say about learning things every day and such.