Noir/Blanc

I do not own Ed, Edd, n Eddy. However, I retain all rights to OCs. Italics represents thoughts and internal monologue.

The Antonucci Highway

June 17, 1951

11:33 PM

Eddy and Lee cruised down the highway in Eddy's car. The city was in shadows and flickering glimmer fluorescent light. Most of the city's populace had settled in for the night so that they may face the blistering heat of the coming day. Eddy was simultaneously cruising and smoking a corkscrew-shaped, half spent cigarette he had pulled out of the car's ashtray. Before this case is done, I'm going to have to buy some more fucking cigarettes. He glanced over at Lee, who was looking out the window and absentmindedly fussing with her hair. In all the time that they had known each other, Eddy had only seen her do so on a few occasions. It was Lee's blatantly obvious tell: she was nervous about seeing her sister.

Eddy pulled into the Eros Club parking lot a few minutes later, after struggling to find a parking spot. He sat there with Lee in the car for a moment before speaking. "Alright, you go in first and find May. Talk to her and when you are finished, come find me. I'll be poking around and trying not to get the shit beat out of me" he grinned. Lee merely nodded and got out of the car. She made last minute alterations to her hair and her blouse before heading in.

Eddy waited for a few minutes before tossing his spent cig and heading in. The bouncer (or greeter, as Eros management preferred to call him) was noticeably absent when he walked in. Whelp, looks like they know I'm here. Eddy headed through the high archway that lead into the club. Without the droves of detectives and crime scene tape imposing on it, the Eros Club appeared much more jovial. Soft, warm artificial light kept the place just lit enough so you could see what you needed to see. The club's interior looked like the interior of a movie house: dark, carmine red walls, high ceilings and lots of fancy facets. There was a stage where the band would be seated or the dancers would tantalize and dance floor during the twilight hours that was currently covered by a large carpet so as to accommodate more tables near the stage.

The all black band was on stage playing a sanguine blues number (jazz and swing was reserved for early in the evening). Several cigarette girls were walking around the room hocking their wares. Eddy noticed most of the club's talent was out tonight, sitting with the patrons; teasing men old enough to be their fathers and pretending to be enraptured by heroic war stories that probably never happened. Eddy quickly spotted Lee and May sitting together at empty table in the back, chatting like you might expect two estranged sisters to do. Good old May.

May had always had it the roughest of the three Kanker Sisters. In her youth, she had been the baby of the family (something that Eddy could unfortunately relate to). She had always been the least intelligent and the least pretty. However, she was still a decent girl. But it was her metamorphosis years later that had made Eddy actually consider the existence of a higher power. Post high school and after the trio split up (with Lee moving into the city to look for work and Marie moving out to the Coast), May blossomed. Her face cleared up and she had her buckteeth ground down. Without those pesky buckteeth troubling her, May was able speak clearer and not come off sounding like an unintelligent hick. Her sinuses cleared up and she no longer spoke in such labored, congested tone. Her body filled out and pretty soon May was real hot stuff. However, she was still pretty dim; nice but dim. And where do all brainless beauties aspire to be? In the big pictures, of course. And so like so many others, May ended up working at the Eros Club. She performed a bit but after a few years was awarded concubine status for one of the club's best patrons (a certain gentleman with quite a bit of juice in the state house, if you take the point). Hell of a payoff for a lifetime of busting your ass, Eddy thought.

Not more than five minutes after walking into the club, Eddy felt a firm hand clasp his shoulder. Eddy turned to see Sampson, a great black Leviathan of a man who put fucking whales to shame. Sampson, the club bouncer, was about 6'9 and 300 pounds of muscle and aggression. He was completely clean shaven (hair, eyebrows, the works) and wore a monkey suit that clung to his bulging physique. "Evening Sampson. Guess your boss wants a word with me?" Eddy asked, attempting to appear calm and collected when he was in fact pissing himself in fear.

Sampson made no verbal response but simply nodded. He escorted Eddy past the stage and down the hall marked "Employees Only." After passing several cheap, spartan dressing rooms like Nazz's, the duo came to a door at the end of the hall with a presumptuous plaque that simply read "The Boss." Eddy looked back and saw Sampson's eyes on him, waiting for him to go in first. Eddy simply shook his head and sighed, irritated. I know one thing: there had better be some fucking cigarettes in there, he thought before opening the door.