Detective Albert Squab Episode 2

Albert Squab and the Case of the Retarded Person

“Never judge a retarded book by its cover.”
-H. Stanson the Rat Bastard

“Squab Detective Agency, may I ask who's calling?” said Lassarus. Those words were orgasmic for Squab and his rat bastard companion, Stanson, for business was slow for self proclaimed detectives these days. The very prospect of business was enough for Squab to max out his credit card in 30 seconds flat on a bust or his favorite performer, Robusto Gusto the Circus Strongman.
“Detective you have a call on line one,” squawked the lanky lady Lassaruss.
“Hello,” said Stanson as he picked up the phone, “How may we help you?”
Squab clenched his glass of milk so tight it shattered and severely damaged his hand. This was due to the fact that Squab felt he should have been the one to answer the phone and knew he would regret not being fast enough.
A few moments pass as Stanson and the client speak. All the while Stanson made faces of utmost confusion, but was determined to complete the call for fear of embarrassment. Stanson wasn't bright but he knew if he failed this phone call that Squab would never let him take one again. Squabs heavy breathing and angry grunts only added to the pressure on Stansons shoulders. Stanson was so concerned with these factors that he had been completely neglected the caller by not paying any attention at all.
“You better come into the office so we can be thorough,” Stanson said as a way to avoid explaining he hadn't been listening to a word the caller said.
Stanson hung up the phone and explained that the callers name was Gale and she would be stopping by soon. Squab was furious, but had no way to prove what a failure Stanson was, so he tried to get some info out of Stanson.
“So...what is the case about?” inquired Squab.
“Hard to say,” said Stanson, “Something about Gale sounded queer. I think it was her accent.”
With shards of glass deep in his hand Squab calmly stated, “Well, I hope you know what your doing.” Squab thought about poking fun at Stanson by claiming he had a small penis, but then he remembered the moment he walked in on Stanson in the buff. Not only did Stanson have a large penis, but it was a juicy hog that wriggled and twirled with such might that not even Squab could deny its power.
The chime at the door rang announcing a visitor. “Welcome to Squab Detective Agency,” barked the desk bitch Lassarusss. “May I take your coat?” Her cold bony hands violently pried the jacket off of Gale the visitor, whos blank expression confirmed nothing about her character. Lassarussss pointed her in and Gale sat on the floor of the office looking very confused.
“Halloo,” bellowed Gale, “I gasta find ma cat!”
“We will do whatever we can,” claimed Stanson. “Where did you last see her,” he said eager to solve the mystery.
“I dunnoo. Im no good at remembrin sometimes,” she responded.
Squab stood up from his chair and said. “I have solved the mystery,” and he had. “The location of the cat is irrelevant. What does matter is that you too share a common trait.” Gale and Stanson stared in disbelief. “You are both retarded.”
It became clear to Stanson that this was the case when he turned to see Gales reaction. She was laughing and snorting with shit on her face and the stains on her panties that she felt so comfortable displaying by the way she was sitting.
“Get out!” said Stanson.