Fontella Jones and the Fruitless Womb

My name’s Fontella Jones, Telly for short. I’m a cop, a detective, a damned good detective, in East St. Lawrence: a dying city entirely subsidized by strip clubs and a gambling boat that attracts the whites from across the Big River in Saint Lawrence. Before you start gettin off on white racism and black racism and that politically and socially correct and incorrect bullsh__, you better learn a little bit about me . . . if you’re gonna hang with me. You’d better know who I am and what makes me tick and try not to make me go over this sh__ again . . . not if you wanna stay around and be part of my show. You don’t have to like it; you don’t have to understand it, but you do have to accept it. Yeah, I’m all those things you may, or may not, think − and more. I carry a gun. Things could get ugly real fast. And that’s when I’m not drinking! Did I say gun . . . I meant guns. I carry a pair of lightweight, alloy Warthog 45s. The 45s are my little piglets and I love makin ‘em squeal.