SPARKLINE: Falconer Immortal

Falconer, the infamous detective, lit the Cigarette of Victory with relish. “Indeed,” he intoned, “I was shot three times in what we professionals term ‘the crotchal region’ by the suspect. Nonetheless I was able to disarm, overpower and briefly tamper with him before your timely arrival.”

“But how,” said the policewoman, “did you survive being shot in…?”

“This old thing?” Falconer said, pointing to his groin. “I had it replaced with something altogether more resilient and commodious years ago. You’re a pretty one, aren’t you? Very pretty.”

The sound of tiny motors and telescoping steel purred from Falconer’s lap.

SPARKLINES: ideas under 100 words. © Warren Ellis 2010

SPARKLINE: Falconer’s Nativity

Falconer, the great detective, flicked the dead man’s nipples with contempt. “The solution is obvious,” he barked to the attending policeman. Indeed it was. The nipples were hinged, and revealed tubes extending into the obese corpse’s chest. “Look at the scars on that magnificent gut,” Falconer said. “If the edges were not sealed, would that not look for all the world to you like… a hatch? Your kidnapped child, officer, is inside that man, sustained by a breathing tube and a food pipe. And probably has his legs jammed in the man’s pelvis. Those are not child-bearing hips.”

SPARKLINES: ideas under 100 words. © Warren Ellis 2010