Film Noir Style…
Film noir is an American filmmaking style from the 1940s’ and ’50’s characterized by detective protagonists, femme fatales, seedy settings, shadowy lighting, 1920’s mob lingo and a gritty, fatalistic tone.
The style offered movies with a narrator to explain the characters and the story. The narrator always had an overly wordy script loaded with subtle info you had to catch to get the plots and innuendos. (<This is a warning.) The narration was also loaded with the use of 1920’s mob lingo sprinkled throughout and the narrator always had a wise-guy tone, a flip style and repeated the word, yeah, far too often.
Film Noir — Some of it was good, incredibly good… like Sam Spade and The Maltese Falcon and the famous shadowy scenes in Double Indemnity.
But, this story isn’t one of the those great stories.
This is the other kind of Film Noir…
The kind of gritty tale told only by D-movie writers or burnt-out Twilight Zone devotees.
It’s a story where the thugs are bad and the writing is worse—-a story dark, slimy and reeking of the blackness of a name, like Noir, which means, black.
As you read this story, it works best if you embrace your inner 1940’s cheap-novel detective and haul out your best Sam Spade voice.
So, don your fedora, pour yourself a bourbon and flip up the collar of your trench coat…
[NOTE: Set your Sound ON & LOW…pref device larger than your phone]
This is the story of goodness and evil,
the story of nice and naughty,
the story of write and writing gone so wrong.
Because, yeah, this is the tale of…
The G-Team…
Fighting music crime from aloft and a loft, for America, because someone had to do it and they were the ones to step in it.
Click > /\ …Sound on LOW, Select & Press icon…and READ…
Under the guise as the St. Gertrude Catholic Church Contemporary Music Ensemble—
—six seemingly innocent individuals, posing as church musicians, join for what appears to be rehearsals and service music at a quiet Midwestern church on Sundays.
But…
…in reality, the team of six is a famous law enforcement and investigation team, cracking cases nationwide, nabbing the most dangerous and diabolical criminals known to man, and they do it all to stop the insidious and sinister horror of music crimes.
This team, The G-Team, is the Midwest base for music crime Intel and Law Enforcement. They work as a single stellar crime-fighting unit to take down major music crime rings.
To understand how lethal this team is, one must know the individuals, the nearly talented teammates, who comprise the most famous music crime-fighting team in the nation…
The team:
Lulu Voluptchuz –
When you meet Lulu, you think you’ve merely met a style icon and queen of accessorizing and you wouldn’t be wrong. But, many made the mistake of thinking that was all this doll was.
Yeah, Lulu was more than that..more than just a dressy bird, more than just the kind of dame you saw on the front cover of a D-rated romance novel.
Lulu was tough, like steel, like flint, like the resilience of a gel manicure with the glitter. And, behind those business-like glasses was a calculating mind, the kind that had a barefaced man figured out before he even speaks and a gaze that made a weak thug unable to speak without the aid of a stiff drink. That’s how good she was.
Posing as the church ensemble’s sole soprano, Lulu handled Logistics and Acquisitions for the team.
And, when you are the Logistics and Acquisitions Agent for a music crime-fighting team, Lulu had the kind of smarts that worked. But, if her intellect wasn’t enough….well, let’s just say she lived up to her last name. When her glasses came off and her hair let down, it was clear she was all woman. And, yeah, she was as easy on the eyes as she was with her virtue…
Acquisitions could be made easier with those kind of eyes and hair and legs that didn’t quit, unless she stopped walking. She could get the team anything they needed, no matter how rare an item was or how dangerous it was to acquire. The team’s Lulu was really quite the lulu.
But, that’s another story…
Precious Migh – [long – i -]
Don’t let that pretty face or those straight stocking seams on her getaway sticks – or her name fool you. Precious may pose as a sweet, innocent-looking musician for the church ensemble, but then that’s her cover.
By the time Precious had heard, “Well, aren’t you precious?” for the 1 millionth time, she was hardened, well-honed, and she was sharp, too.
She had the kind of savvy that made her wise to the ways of the world and keen to language. Yeah, she was a kitten who could read language like she could dig into an easy-read novel or bore a resemblance to any ethnic restaurant take-out menu. That’s how good she was.
For the team, she is the Communications Specialist and her undercover disguise as the church ensemble flautist included her flute.
But, the flute, in her hands, is more than music…it is a weapon. Her flute serves as the medium for sending/receiving coded messages to their team via national Intel. When they needed to get word to each other or anyone, anywhere, any time and in any language, you could count on all that is Precious.
For Precious, her years of enduring the kind of bad puns and jokes that come with a name, like Precious, gave her that edge that made her right for the team, made her wise and likely prepared her for what would come when her name was listed alphabetically -by last name -after the movie, The Lord of The Rings, was released.
But, that’s another story…
James -pause- James Cahn –
You want to think his name has a typo—an accidentally added word, but you’d be wrong. You see, James -pause- James had a lifelong ambition to follow in the footsteps of his idol, a 007 agent, who was always notoriously introduced as …
—James.………….James Bond. He figured having that introductory pause built into his name would help grease the skids toward his ultimate goal.
His team role is the group Front Man, a Master of Disguise and Stealth Agent.
He thought of himself as the James Bond of church music ensembles, but he has low standards.
He posed as the church ensemble guitarist, but inside his iconic guitar case was an array of his kind of weapons: disguises, smokes, tuxedos, bean-shooters and also a cheap guitar he played, played when he felt like it, and played with increasing speed if it suited him.
But, that’s who he was, a lone wolf, a maverick, a guy unconcerned with the mundane worries of any tempo. James—James thrilled for adventure, thrived on danger, longed for risks, and lived for jeopardy and other prime time shows. That’s how good he was.
James—James was renowned as the best inside man in the world. If it was info you wanted and you needed the dirt fast, James—James was just the guy to get dirty. He was clever with a disguise and had the kind of face that could make undiscerning women melt and dupable men believe anything he said. He also liked shiny things.
But, that’s another story…
C. Matthias Strange-
The C. Is for Casper, but his pale skin had led to unfortunate jokes in his early years, so he switched to using his middle name.
And, he had a reputation. Sure, some of his reputation had to do with his sense of humor, because he made the kind of jokes wise guys are prone to make, the kind that made you want to sock him and made your ears smack you for listening.
Yeah, some of his rep had to do with his ability to snag any older broad he wanted, as long as she was at least partially deaf. But, the world of Intel knew of him more for his wizardry with all things technical and analytical.
He posed as the bass guitarist for the ensemble, but that well-polished bass wasn’t just a bass. Inside that shiny exterior was a network of computer magic, dinguses and team devices that would make the NCIS set designer drool.
He was the team’s math analyst/technical specialist…
…and he could crack, hack and attack data better than the rest. They would have called him, Cracker, but decided against that and so they called him, Math, short for Matthias, but also for one of his best weapons…yeah, math.
And he was called “Math” for good reason. He had skills, mad skills, the kind of skills envied by every kid with a decoder ring, the kind that made him a menace to every evil music crime ring in the nation.
Yeah, Math, that’s how good he is. So good, that on some capers, the team called him, Captain Math or Major Math. Sometimes, ladies also called him General Math. They’d all had General Math.
But, that’s another story…
Peaches LaBoomBoom-
Peaches…yeah, Peaches. Peaches poses as the “Entertainment Coordinator” for a chain of low budget retirement communities by day and the church ensemble’s sole alto on Sundays.
Don’t let the retirement community title fool you. At a low budget retirement community, the entertainment coordinator isn’t just some traveling dame with a karaoke machine. They couldn’t afford the machine. She was the chain’s stripper act and just the kind of babe you wanted in a place where the audience doesn’t see so well. Yeah, she was that level of good.
To the rest of the world, Peaches looked harmless and like everyone’s nana. While this Grammi might look as though she could only bake cookies — and she does, Peaches is renowned for the ability to talk down the most vile criminals with just her jaw-flapping.
And, if her yap alone couldn’t do the job, there were those cookies of hers…yeah, they’re lethal. We’re talking deadly, like toxic, like noxious, like really unhealthy. She could bake off any thug. The team only needed to carefully label her cookie jars to sort the good cookies from the lethal ones, because Peaches is the kind of dame, who can’t keep her cookie jars straight.
You’d be right if you guessed Peaches is the team’s Assassin Agent, because that’s how it is.
Peaches…Yeah, that’s the name she uses. Sure, that is her stripper name, but she stuck with it, because that’s the kind of persistence she was known for, the kind of grit that clung like beach sand in uncomfortable places, the kind of tenacity that made you think of Velcro, the kind of doggedness that comes to mind when you look at her.
Her given name was- Magnolia Ezielay, which also might have made her stage name seem like the better idea.
But, that’s another story…
And their leader…
Sythe A. Bossman (The Boss)-
Sythe…with a name like that, you knew he was strong. You could feel it, you could see it, and you could smell it after Taco Tuesday.
Sythe may pose as a mild-mannered music teacher at a parochial school by day and the director of the seemingly innocent contemporary ensemble on Sundays, but, don’t let the rugged altar boy looks fool you.
Sythe is the sly and cunning Leader and Weapons Specialist of the team.
Sythe… Yeah, Sythe…This was the kind of guy who didn’t need a hero’s cape, he was the kind of ace that defined tough and defied danger, the kind of champ who could be a drum major at an all-boys school and not only survive it unscathed, but also date women. Yeah, that’s how good he was.
No one had to tell you how capable he was. This was the kind of guy who could outwit any pea-brain criminal. He had the uncanny ability to develop the plots necessary to nab the dark perps in the seamy underbelly of the music crime world.
Besides being the team’s brilliant leader, plotting the team’s tactical and intelligence maneuvers, Sythe is also their weapons mastermind.
That keyboard…yeah, not just a purveyor of organic and melodic sounds. Behind the array of buttons, levers and gizmos lie the most lethal and adaptable components that morph into a veritable arsenal of weaponry. With the flick of a few switches, assuming some grade school musical hadn’t jammed anything vital, Sythe can arm his entire team with cutting edge weapons.
And, that’s the reason, his team usually calls him, The Boss.
And, in case you wonder about the A. in his name, his middle name is an old family name, Allus, but he won’t use it. A tough guy, like The Boss-Sythe, has the kind of swag that means he won’t be called Sythe Allus.
But, that’s another story…
This time their caper is a case when The G-Team was on their own and it was serious crime, but a seemingly small operation, a criminal mastermind perpetrating music crimes across the entire nation.
That’s where this story begins…
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It was a rainy night.
The air hung still, still like the dust under a church organ peddles, still like the aerobics tape library in a nursing home, still like the soft drink tent at a Catholic Church summer festival.
Yeah, it was kinda still and it was wet, soaking wet like a toddler diaper in a kiddie pool, wet like….yeah, you get it. It was pretty wet.
The team had just been briefed on a case involving national security and weapons.
The team’s main contact with the FBI, Grace, got messages to Precious precisely and quickly…rapid enough to impress a fast gal, like Precious. Always one to encourage excellent work from associates, Precious complimented her with the speedy reply, “That was amazing, Grace.” Math promptly thanked her for saying, Grace.
The FBI reported an unusual trail of petty crimes and suspicious activity that seemed to oddly coincide with the traveling of a “Special Requiem Envoy”.
The Special Requiem Envoy was hired by the Catholic Church to provide music for celebrity Catholic funerals and Requiem Masses nationally.
The Special Requiem Envoy travelled across the nation, wherever a high profile archbishop, bishop 
or celebrity-status funeral was held to assure the Catholic Church was musically well-represented for services likely to be televised.
It was rare for the Catholic Church to invest much money in their music, but image had become a concern for the Church and celebrity Catholic funerals were an opportunity for burying old branding.
The Envoy was comprised of an ensemble of traveling priests and nuns led by a long-time Sister. The G-Team was assigned to dig to the bottom of this Envoy to determine if there were any plots behind these burials and celebrity Requiem Masses.
The team began investigating immediately…and already had a bad feeling about the Envoy, the kind of noxious feeling that only comes from years of instinct, the kind of rancid feeling one gets around foul characters, the kind you get when there are too many run-on sentences and cheesy analogies.
Sythe was especially uneasy about the Envoy. But, Sythe had that kind of intuition, the kind that almost itched, the kind that clung to him like underwear worn too many days in a row, that kind that got under his skin like those odd rashes he used to get in delicate areas. But, that’s another story…
The team used their every talent to assess the Special Requiem Envoy. They picked up every nuanced detail, every hint, every note, because they could all be clues.
The musical envoy’s leader was a Dominican nun, who still wore the traditional garb and went by the name, Sister Cecilia. Cecilia, the patron saint of music…how interesting. But, was it a ruse or were overt names just a bad habit?
Yeah, Sr. Cecilia…sure, she seemed like a Dominican nun. But, there were anomalies with this nun. She cursed like a trucking company’s underpaid file clerk and she was smokin’, but not in the good way. She was a chain-smoking nun with a cough and a cough drop habit to go with it, menthol cough drops, the hardcore stuff, the kind that could put hair on any chest, like a rogue cop in a bad ’70’s TV series.
And, she was a big woman…shoes the size of small shipping crates and a rack that could shade small boys. Yeah, we’re talking K-cups—-grounds to make Sythe ponder and brew over the details…
A cursing, hairy-chested, chain-smoking nun with a bad, bad cough drop habit…
…Sythe, Lulu, Precious, James-pause-James, Math and Peaches had a hunch something was buggy—crooked, flim-flam, shady, grifty, leery and not very nice about this nun.
The rest of her music group seemed just as unlikely as nuns and priests and even as musicians…
– There was a pair, who called each other, “Brother” and “Sister”, but observation indicated otherwise…the glares, the disregard for each other, the hateful barbs…yeah, they acted more like a married couple than siblings.
– The other two were men dressed as clergymen: >a burly one, who made a reference to meeting St. Lascivious with a cagey grin, and >a tall one, who carried several large flasks visible from the huge pockets of his cassock, which he wore open like an old overcoat.
– But, the burly one couldn’t fool Sythe’s team, for they all knew there was no St. Lascivious, except in bawdy tales about certain working gals of the sidewalk.
– They also saw the tall one put his mic in his front pocket. Everyone knew why a man didn’t put a 
microphone in his front pocket. It looked wrong, the kind of wrong that threw off the line of good trousers…and then they saw him screw off the top mic. cage and drink from the inside—it was yet another flask and, clearly, another clue.
But, Sythe and his team also knew this Special Requiem Envoy had been hired by people on a much higher rung of the church ladder than The G-Team. A committee of archbishops, who, in keeping with Catholic Church musician-hiring protocol, had absolutely no musical training, but did possess heavily-amped hiring power and were the notables behind the Envoy’s musical contract.
Obviously, The G-Team would need to do more than speculate about the Envoy and be certain beyond a shadow of doubt that this Envoy were imposters. They vowed that all that was disguised would be exposed, all that was hidden would be made clear, all that was dark would be revealed…
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This case would take the entire G-Team doing what they do so well, what they do better than most 
all-volunteer teams sometimes do. Their minds whirred into action the way squirrel traps left outside too long grind into motion.
Sythe’s team chewed on the matter, because Peaches brought her cookies. They were careful about her cookies…poisoned assassin cookies: Tupperware –and the regular cookies: Glad-ware. They’d lost a lot of sopranos before they learned those crumby label details.
And, just WHAT would The G-Team do to expose all that was hidden and make it clear?
That is the real story . . .
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It was a cold, dry day—dry like three-week old communion wafers, dry like stale extra-fiber cereal, dry like the 007 martinis James—James favored…yeah, it was dry. And, it was cold, cold like a brass bra on a winter morn, cold like…yeah, you get the idea…it was cold.
Sythe had arrived at The G-Team’s HQ first and the rest of the team showed up late, as was their usual ops method.
Lulu was already working on logistics and the other team needs. As usual, she was barely dressed for 
the job with a skirt that read like an essay— long enough to cover the subject, but short enough to create interest. When dressed to the nines, Lulu was the kind of dame who could get one$. Yeah, that’s how good Lulu was.
And, there was Precious continuing to do all that Precious is and does. She was gathering the back Intel from the FBI. Never one of those dames to drop the ball or her flute, she bounced crucial notes to Sythe and Math. She always had a game plan ready and could play it any way or even the right way, because, yeah, Precious was that good.
James—James was already working a disguise or two or three or five, because numbers, like tempo and danger, meant nothing to him.
Yeah, James—James…he could become any personality necessary and he had a hundred of them, one as convincing as the other. He made Sybil look like a slacker. And, he could be anyone for the right reason and..sure, maybe a few wrong ones…that’s how good he was.
And, Math…yeah, Math…he was in full analyst mode, summing up the situation. He’d squared off, primed for the varying encrypted messages Precious had intercepted for him. Math was going to get the root of the scheme with his undivided attention.
Math had that calculating look, like he was either deciphering or his computer-like brain was buffering…that’s how good he was.
Peaches was there, too…yeah, Peaches…deep in thought. Her lethal recipes needed for the diabolical perps in this caper had her mind going like a web browser with 19 tabs open, a few were frozen…and there was music playing, but she didn’t know why…because that’s how good she was.
Sythe combined the work and info from his team of aces and saw what was in the cards.
He could see what he was dealt and he flushed out the oldest scheme known to musical con artists… 
…Yeah, lip syncing…that was how the Special Requiem Envoy had stacked the deck in their favor! Lip-syncing…and, they played their hand and their pirated recordings well. And, Sythe had anteed up on their whole deal…because that’s how good Sythe was.
Now, exposing the Envoy for the cheap tricks they were, was going to take all the ginned up moxy the team had.
Sythe was going to uncover the Envoy’s real identities and call them on whatever squeeze they were trying. Sythe led with setting up Lulu for The G-Team’s next logistical move…and their dice were cast…
The G-Team went into strategic mode at the church hosting the Envoy’s very next celebrity Catholic funeral. Their plan was slinking into action the way cheap fitted bedsheets sidle away from mattress corners, the way worn-out underwear creeps up on you from behind…yeah, The G-Team was gliding into gear…exactly where the Special Requiem Envoy was rehearsing and setting up their sound gear…
Lulu had provided the means to allow the team to circle their perps. Sythe and Math pivoted into the circuitry of their mission, while Precious kept the team in the loop.
James—James whirled into undercover mode as a reporter, who was covering the celebrity Catholic funeral and the Special Requiem Envoy, while Peaches rolled into action as the caterer for the funeral…yeah, Yous Guys, she was baking…really cookin’.
James—James could immediately confirm The Special Requiem Envoy nuns were anything but Dominican Sisters. He knew he could woo any dame, who wasn’t a nun.
He hauled out his best poetry: “your mouth is like two lips, your eyes are like blue things…”
…Yeah, James—James had a real knack for romancing a fake nun. If James—James had to wrap his arms around a few dames rehearsing for a funeral to get what he wanted, well, he was just the under-covers man who was needed.
James—James and Peaches were able to observe the Special Envoy’s set-up more closely. James—James knew guitars and observed the Envoy’s guitar wasn’t usable. The guitar was strung in all the wrong places. We’re talking G-strings…just G-strings…and the daring James—James was at a floss for words.
Peaches discovered the Envoy was using a volunteer church choir’s old ploy. Sure, they had microphones and mic. cable lines, but it was when those lines headed to the mixer that it all got as messed up as Peaches’ morals. That’s right…their lines didn’t go all the way to their mixers, their inputs didn’t go all the way to their outputs…yeah, a total disconnect…a totally fake set-up.
Math analyzed the set-up The Special Requiem Envoy used with Sythe’s tracking of the Envoy’s prior patterns. Precious was able to confirm the pattern through a series of her flutily tooted messages. That Precious gal could really toot. And, she did have a milk allergy, but that’s another story…
For The G-Team, the technical wizardry was left to Sythe and Math and, as usual, the rest of the team just carried things…and the gadgetry geniuses had the initial step of the plan, which Math outlined:
Connect the Envoy’s sound to expose the ruse…the lip-syncing ruse…AND…
…that should expose the real identities of the Special Requiem Envoy members…
This was the first step toward the demise of these dastardly deed-doers. Sythe and Math laid out the initial details of their clever plan:
— At the Envoy’s next scheduled Requiem Mass rehearsal, they would distract and dupe the Envoy and craftily hook up the lines to expose the lip syncing.
— Precious sent the gist of the plan to The G-Team: -Hook -Lines and -Syncers
Lulu was dressed to distract any red-blooded male disguised as a priest with a penchant to be bad while disguised as a priest.
James—James had his personal tasers set to “stun nun”.
Sythe instructed Peaches to conceal herself in an advantageous position and be ready for his cue to act. 
But, Peaches’ blank stare told Sythe she needed more direction: “Pretend you’re in a giant cake and jump out when I call you”, he said. This was a plan only a budget stripper, like Peaches, fully understood.
Precious prepared to do as Precious does and jammed the Envoy’s communication signals with Math’s help to gel the effort. James—James condensed his focus to staging a photo op for the Envoy director. Sythe’s actions were preserved for the solidifying moment…
…And, Lulu was set into hubba-hubba action with a walk-by in front of the Envoy…a walk that was gelatin molds riding in a bus up front and Jello on springs in the back.
And, yeah, the distractions worked…
Math and Sythe provided the brilliance with all the right hook-ups to connect the Envoy’s sound and Sythe cued Peaches, who emerged from hiding just in time to push the right buttons, because, yeah, Peaches really knew how to push people’s buttons. But, Peaches also hollered, “Happy Birthday”, because she thought she was hiding in a cake, but that’s another story. Yeah, Peaches might be crazy.
The G-Team knew exposing the Envoy’s real voices might result in bad sound, but they didn’t know just how bad bad could really be…and it was really bad and the Requiem rehearsal was long, too long…
The voices…they were the kind that could make a funeral go from sad to pathetic, the kind that could make the eyes of a meth lab chef water, the kind that could make paint peel…and all of that bad noise also came with their leader’s constant, hacking-hacking cough. You could even hear the clacking of her putrid menthol cough drops against her teeth. The G-Team recognized those voices!
Sure, the team had heard about this kind of malady from their televisions:
“If you experience… an abjection lasting four or more hours…
…be sure to call a doctor…
And, The G-Team NOW knew exactly which Doctor to call out……………..
It was what Sythe had feared all along…his career nemesis was involved:
It was Dr. Hoeh! …long o, silent e-h; rhymes with ‘hoe or Dr. No’
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It was a feat and it put them a head…Sythe and his team had exposed the Special Requiem Envoy as musical imposters and correctly identified the leader of the despicable gang behind the horrific noise.
Of all the bad dames that could drop into his world, Sythe probably feared this bird more than the rest. And, Sythe was tough, the kind of tough that would deter most diabolical criminals, the kind that let Sythe drink lite beer and still seem as macho as any of those Village People singers.
Yeah, Dr. Hoeh, was a poisonous perp, a dastardly devil, a corrupt criminal and an all-round really, really awful babe.
And, it became clear who her cohorts in crime were…some of her pals from when she did her bit in the slammer…
The alleged Brother-Sister pair, who demonstrated a mutual disdain one might only observe with a married couple, were exactly as the team thought: married.
They were Tim and Pammy Kay Flakker, a couple who had once been reverent financial counselors, but found crimes of racketeering and fraud to be far more lucrative.
The burly guy disguised as a priest had once been a retreat organizer, but had discarded that life to use his organizational skills for criminal activity…he was Chuck Manson, but his gang members called him, Chuckie, and he was no dummy.
The big tall fellow, whose pockets had too many flasks and who had disguised himself with a priestly cassock, was none other than Jimmy Jones, a former motivational speaker and bartender, who developed a tendency to use his charm and mixologist’s skills for malevolent misdeeds.
Yeah, these were villains, scoundrels, miscreants…. They were an orb of evil, a crime circle, a ring of wranglers…when it came to crime, they got around. These were the kind of subhumans that got caught in the spam filter of life.
Sure, they were naughty, but they were up against the best, The G-Team.
Yeah, now The G-Team knew the WHO involved, but they didn’t know the why, but just then…there was another message between the Special Requiem Envoy and also from the FBI…
Precious intercepted the exchange…
Math detected the code…
Lulu connected the logistics…
James—James perfected the next disguise…
Sythe directed the plan…
And Peaches was baked…uh, cooked
Yeah, The G-Team had a long night ahead of them…
This all looked bad…bad, like the writing in this caper…as desired as toilet paper with glitter, as wanted as moth ball-scented hand lotion, as welcome as a blooper reel for a Holocaust documentary…
…and all with writing so bad you get indigestion…as the story continues…
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The G-Team now knew the identity of the evil behind the Special Requiem Envoy assigned to celebrity Catholic funerals, but they had yet to discover what criminal calamities this crew contemplated and committed.
Yeah, Sythe had noticed a pattern in the Envoy’s movements, a rare mistake for the master of music crime known as Dr. Hoeh.
The Envoy had access to large Catholic Churches across the nation from the time of the first funeral announcement through to the planning and eventual funeral services.
Every one of these celebrity Catholic funerals involved a who’s who list of well known Catholic elites, Hollywood stars, international aristocracy and the cream of society.
With the team’s attention to detail, they noted a few odd reports buried in the information Precious obtained and Math analyzed.
There were reports of doubles: two hearses, two coffins—-reports, which had been dismissed by authorities as confusion due to grief and misidentification due to an abundance of limos and stretch SUVs that came with the prestigious crowds. With two Corpse Caddies and two Chicago Overcoats (coffins) involved, yeah, the G-Team was suspicious.
Precious developed an intercourse with the FBI and Lulu had relations with the logistics world, and both got some of the intimate details confirmed, because these two dames could really put out, when needed.
James—James was unleashed on the Envoy for some final photos and he was willing to wag his 
charms one more time to hound a bit more dirt from the mutt of a broad called Dr. Hoeh. He needed to endure her smokes and constant hacking and dog out the stray details, even if the dame had a voice so husky it could pull a dogsled and she practically howled of the smell of menthol cough drops.
Math held up his end by tailing several encrypted messages and got to the seat of the recent coded bases.
Peaches was mixing up a new recipe and counted on Lulu to whip up some special ingredients for her creation, certain to add the right measure to The G-Team’s efforts.
And, The G-Team knew a music crime was about to go down…and that Sythe had a plan…
Sythe went into action with the decisive decision-making skills of a squirrel crossing a busy highway…that’s how good he was.
James—James learned The Special Requiem Envoy was actually traveling in a used hearse they had pinched from an impound. Sure, that explained the second Body Buick reported at celebrity Catholic funerals, but it didn’t explain the second Pinewood Overcoat (coffin).
James—James also got additional information, because James—James had a mind that picks up details with the ease that he picks up a desperate floozy at bar closing-time, the kind that clings to nuances the way E. Coli. clings to lukewarm beef…that’s how good he was.
Math and Sythe were already speculating on the reason for the second coffin. Their thoughts tumbled in their heads the way nylon panties tumble in a dryer without a Cling-Free sheet—sometimes connecting, sometimes just rolling in a wad.
Precious and Math analyzed recent Envoy communications and Lulu was able to track some of the Envoy’s recent logistics. Lulu had also nabbed some of the special ingredients Peaches needed for her part in taking down the music crime-committing Envoy…
Yeah, Peaches was cooking…
…and it involved quarters, menthol and some ingeniousness only she and Sythe-The Boss could concoct…
And, yeah, this wasn’t gonna be duck soup. There was bound to be a rumpus and the team would need coordination, wits and haul out all they had in metal squirters and disguises…Dr. Hoeh and her bad palookas were gonna drop…drop faster than a drunk on a mountain bike, drop faster than a hooker’s knickers on payday.
Math angled for more of the Envoy’s communications, but the cons seemed to have clammed up as their movements became fishier, they’d cast their nets.
As The G-Team’s plans developed, Sythe chuckled to himself, the kind of laugh that rumbles with 
delight in the idea of taking down his lifelong nemesis, the kind of deep, throaty laugh like the sound a dog makes before it’s going to vomit. He was certain that this time Dr. Hoeh would be heading for the Big House, the slammer, the hoosegow, the can, the chicken coop…and that she’d be taking her team of bad eggs with her.
Sythe and his team had determined what Dr. Hoeh was plotting and Math and Precious had been able to confirm their suspicions:
—>Every Catholic knew what was hidden in every Catholic Church basement, besides a stash of Christmas wreaths, bingo equipment, empty kegs and a year’s supply of candles…
—>Yeah, we’re talking weapons: bean shooters, heaters, auto lead pumpers/Chicago typewriters, rods of every type and a bunch of noise-makers and kamikaze watermelons—the kind that goes boom in the night, the kind that rubs out a city block in a wink, the kind that makes big mugs drop faster than a beefy kid on a seesaw.
Yeah, it was the sacred cache of the Catholic Church’s weapons to fight the zombie apocalypse!
That kind of a stash could be easy to pinch for the bad palookas in the Special Requiem Envoy, 
because crucial supplies, like Christmas decor, bingo gear and summer fest kegs had routine seasonal use, while the zombie apocalypse weapons were in long-term church basement storage and were rarely checked.
But, Sythe and Math had confirmed it…the stash at this church was already missing!
Precious got back on the horn to pass the current squawk to the team and the FBI and confirmed the apocalypse weapons from other churches were also missing…from churches where there had been…Yeah, yous knows ————- celebrity Catholic funerals!
Click > /\ …Sound on LOW, Select & Press icon…and READ…
The Special Requiem Envoy was rod-running, gun-galloping, bomb-jogging, arms-racing, weapons wrangling…and they were in a hurry to make their drop.
Now, the G-team had the scuttle on the crime, so all they needed was to know the mark…the bomb buyers, the pistol purchasers, the gun grabbers, the missile mongers.
The G-Team would be infiltrating the celebrity Catholic funeral to find out. James—James had concocted the disguise ideas and Lulu had nabbed the remainder of their needs.
The celebrity Catholic funeral’s guest list was a veritable smorgasbord of elites from royalty to film stars, from dignitaries to world leaders and from corporate bigwigs to noteworthy heirs, except they weren’t all like the name, smorgasbord—Swedish. People were dying to get into this funeral and The G-Team knew just how they would rub elbows with the elite.
Sythe and James—James would be stationed at the altar with Precious nearby. Math would be posted near the main entry-exit for the church. Lulu and Peaches would be intermingled with the attendees.
Sythe would be disguised as a really large altar boy, claiming puberty struck him exceptionally early. In the traditional altar boy garb, Sythe could conceal that he was packing heat and still be cool about it, altar boy-cool.
James—James’s disguise would be that of a heavily bearded rabbi, who would be co-officiating the service. His heavy robes and beard served to conceal his identity and a few bean-shooters of his own.
Precious was decked out in glad rags fit for her cover as a specially commissioned guest flute soloist, hired by the grieving relatives, which allowed her close proximity to Sythe and kept her communication weapon near her at all times…and ALSO she carried the special box Peaches had given her with a crucial mission for it.
Math’s cover was a gig as the church’s sound technician. As the Church’s sound 
tech, he could use the sound set-up as way to house Sythe’s keyboard weapons and also Math’s vast computer lab, a set-up that looked akin to a Radio Shack and an Apple store attempting a Kama Sutra move, not that he would know about that.
Lulu would be attending the funeral disguised as wealthy socialite mourner, donning a close-cut black suit and heavily-veiled hat to hide her identity and matching handbag that looked more like a violin case from a ’40’s gangster movie and held contents just as deadly.
Peaches’ undercover role was that of the Dowager Duchess of
Freedonia. Despite being in mourning, she was decked for evening in a black gown accessorized with her very important and very infamous boa.
Yeah, The G-Team was up to something, something big, big like Lulu’s hairdo in the ’80’s, big like the amount of money Peaches spends to look so cheap…
As the first of the lip-synced music began for the funeral Mass, guests filed into the Catholic Church, among them were Lulu and Peaches. Math was already in place, running the church’s sound system, and Precious took her place near The Special Requiem Envoy….and, at the right moment, Precious slipped the box Peaches had given her to replace Dr. Hoeh’s cough drop supply.
As the church was filling to capacity, an odd group assembled at the back of the church. This was a group that just didn’t fit. And, they looked uneasy, the way a man with a fork feels in a soup cafe, the way a pavement princess feels at an evangelist’s retreat, the way you feel when you watch your mother-in-law drive off a cliff in your new car…they had mixed feelings.
Sythe and his team quickly recognized this known terrorist organization. It was none other than L.E.T. UP., the Librarian Equality Terrorist UPrising…the group that demanded librarians be taken seriously as executives.
LETUP had started with small acts of rebellion, like refusing to stamp returned books and turned to purposeful violations of the Dewey Decimal System and then ramped up to printing counterfeit library cards. They whined about their alleged plight with all the drama of a middle school dance, of a PTA barbecue committee, of the B-side song of a country music record.
When that wasn’t enough to garner LETUP the attention they desired, they beefed up their numbers in more ways than one. They packed their entity with mean mugs and big thugs. Yeah, they were a band of hooligans, ruffians, goons and hoods, but they were very well-read.
They wore their signature muumuus emblazoned with their slogans: “Librarian Power”, and “Librarians Rule” and some of their more graphic messages, like “Mess with a Librarian and We’ll Check YOU Out” and “Book Me and I Roll You” on the backs of those muumuus. And, they were known for both their evil and their incompetence, sort of like the U.S. Post Service with grenades.
They were a rough crowd and they reeked of the kind of dankness and mustiness that came from old books, old smokes and travel too long in an old bus with no open windows after a steady diet of fast food.
And, they were wearing their gang bandanas, obvious because of the whimsical book print strewn on a colorful background, so they stood out in the church, stood out like pork chops in a synagogue, like Pepsi in a Whole Foods aisle display, like a reggae band at a Klan rally.
The G-Team had a nagging suspicion that LETUP was the intended recipient of the stolen Catholic Church zombie apocalypse weapons and The Special Requiem Envoy’s plan became obvious…with two Corpse Caddies and two coffins…and a stream of limos, stretch SUVs, people and some amount of chaos as the elite elbowed each other for prime locations certain to get them on camera at the cemetery…there was ample opportunity for the Envoy to make their exchange unnoticed.
And, sure enough, LETUP had arrived in their usual tie-dye painted bus, but their leaders were in what amounted to yet another—a third–Body Buick…another hearse…but this one was empty in the rear, a claim Peaches could never make.
Yeah, it was clear as a clear day when there was just enough sun and no clouds…the Envoy had loaded their coffin with the church’s weapons and would pass the weapons’ load to the librarian terrorists during the logistics whir getting to the burial service at the cemetery. Everything was in action…
Click > /\ …Sound on LOW, Select & Press icon…and READ…
The Special Requiem Envoy lip-synced their way through the entire service with Precious tossing in a heartfelt improv solo at just the right moment. Then, the Envoy and entire assembly followed the funeral procession to the burial site.
Yeah, Dr. Hoeh seemed as nervous as an egg on a kitchen counter…near the edge and ready to crack. Her gang was with her with their gape-mouthed expressions. They looked useless to her, more dense than roadkill after the morning rush hour, and possessing the attention spans of billy goats on meth. But, they were loyal to her and tough enough to pull off this caper.
The scene at the cemetery was unreal, eerie even…Yeah, there was a surreal atmosphere, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Wheel of Fortune comes on at 7pm instead of 7:30pm.
Math staked out the Envoy’s hearse, while Precious and Lulu covered the LETUP hearse.
Sythe and James—James covered the entire LETUP organization and Peaches watched the Envoy gang. 
And, Peaches noticed Dr. Hoeh was, in fact, carrying the small box Peaches had given to Precious to carefully plant with Dr. Hoeh’s belongings. Peaches could count on Precious to get the job done the way you could bet on a collection plate appearing at a for-profit ministry’s revival, the way you could depend on getting emails from a Nigerian prince, because that’s how good she was.
And, as Dr. Hoeh incessantly coughed and spewed her menthol breath onto nearby mourners, The Special Requiem Envoy signaled to the LETUP terrorists that they were ready to create a distraction, which would allow them to make their insidious trade.
They were diabolical—they were fiendish—they were vile and they weren’t very nice either. The Brother and Sister duo, who The G-Team knew was really Tim and Tammy Kay Flakker, staged the big distraction, a scene with Tammy Kay, in her full nun’s disguise, going into wildly loud hysteria and then dramatically fainting in the midst of the mourners.
Yeah, it was during this calamity that the two phony hearses lined up with each other and the trade was about to go on in the midst of unsuspecting mourners with the ease of a frat boy scoring on Sythe’s pushover sister…but that’s another story…
It wasn’t going to be a piece of cake for them, though…yeah, Sythe and his team were on their toes and on their feet…
Click > /\ …Sound on LOW, Select & Press icon…and READ…
And, what happened next was like watching the flailing arms of seven inflatable whacky tube men on the same small car lot. It was almost poetry in motion, if the poetry was about violence or a sweaty octopus trying to bitch slap a den of cub scouts.
The LETUP organization was armed to the teeth and not just with books. The G-Team had met their match, but they were ready…
Lulu was on the LETUP leaders, all over them like a cheap dress on a floozy, all over them like glitter on a sweaty prom queen. As she bounced one of the mugs off her chest, she brought all new meaning to busting his chops.
Precious was proving to be as badass as Colonel Mustard in the study with a candlestick, but she wielded her flute instead with the savvy of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle, but with more attitude and a really cute hat. She made John Wick look like a pansy.
That left the nearly 30 other LETUP guerrillas to Sythe, Math
and James—James. The G-Team male trio approached the terrorists with the finesse of a blind rhino with an ear infection and the terrorists suddenly knew they were going to get hurt…but, like frying bacon naked, they didn’t know just where…yet.
The three G-Team men hit the thugs so hard their souls left their bodies for a moment and you could hear them apologize to the ground when they dropped, like flies in a bug zapper, under the G-Team assault.
It was during that brouhaha that Sythe signaled Peaches…
Click > /\ …Sound on LOW, Select & Press icon…and READ…
Yeah, Peaches…her facade might be crumbling, but she was more structurally sound than she looked. And, that boa of hers…yeah, it had rolls of quarters sewn into its ends. Sure, it gave that boa some extra drag during one of Peaches’ strips routines and, when she wore it, it tended to bounce against her caboose as she walked, the way the head of a dead body bounces on each step as he’s drug upstairs by his feet. But, in her skilled hands that boa became a powerful weapon.
Sythe knew that unleashing Peaches was a lot like giving a drunk monkey a machine gun, but Dr. Hoeh’s gang was deserving of what Peaches could dish out to them.
Peaches, the stripper, went into her other routine: full assassin mode…
Peaches moved through the Envoy gang faster than PAC money at a political convention, faster than Mexican water goes through a tourist, faster than Minivan Maggie racing Mustang Sally.
Yeah, Peaches and her boa took down Dr. Hoeh’s gang singlehandedly…but using both hands. Her
boa wasn’t called “the feather nun-chucks” for nothing…and she chucked the phony priests, too.
That was when The G-Team realized Dr. Hoeh had flaked off and presented them with a new challenge…
With hundreds of mourners in harm’s way, Dr. Hoeh had used the arsenal coffin as a weapon armed with explosives laced with muddy nails, cruddy metal scraps and grimy glass shards…a truly dirty bomb…and Dr. Hoeh held the detonator in her evil clutches as she raced, pushing the wheeled casket toward The G-Team and the throngs of mourners.
The G-Team was astounded, the kind of surprise you get when Peaches only needs one day to finish a puzzle clearly marked “2-4 years”, the kind of startle a bombshell with a boob job gets when she learns the surgeon put squeak toys in her breasts, the kind of shock one gets when the organist at a closed casket funeral service decides to play “Pop Goes The Weasel”…and they were stunned, too.
Sure, Dr. Hoeh had the morals of an alley cat on a long weekend, the compassion of Ma Barker on a bender, the ethical restraint of Stalin with a migraine…but they never expected her to stoop this low.
Click > /\ …Sound on LOW, Select & Press icon…and READ…
And, yeah, the explosive-loaded casket was racing closer and closer to the crowd of mourners with 
only The G-Team between them and Dr. Hoeh’s coffin bomb with its detonator held in her wicked grasp as she cruelly laughed at The G-Team, interrupted only by her incessant coughing…and the end of this run-on sentence.
Yeah, that was when the final part of Sythe’s ingenious plan clicked into place, as Dr. Hoeh popped what would be her last cough drop into her mouth, the cough drop from the small box Precious had slipped to her, the cough drop whose ingredients Lulu had acquired, the cough drops Peaches had cooked up in her menthol lab…
It was a “Peaches LaBoomBoom cough drop”…lethal, deadly, fatal…and it didn’t taste good either.
As Dr. Hoeh slurped the toxic sweetness of one of Peaches’ cough drops, she gasped one last breath, dropped the detonator and collapsed to the ground,
The G-Team realized that they, in fact, had used a cough drop…….to stop that coffin.
Yeah, The G-Team had nabbed a terrorist organization, exposed and captured Dr. Hoeh’s gang of miscreants and saved the attendees of a celebrity Catholic funeral.
And, as the sun slowly dipped behind the horizon, the way an arthritic grandma casually sinks into a hot bath, this narrating gumshoe asks…
Click > /\ …Sound on LOW, Select & Press icon…and READ…
Yeah, what about The G-Team…?
What would become of Lulu Voluptchuz, the babe-alicious logistics and acquisitions guru? Would she acquire more than she could handle or will she always be the gal who puts out more than she takes?
What about Precious Migh…would she continue as The G-Team’s communications master, would she retire to a quiet, army tactical maneuver-like life of running teenagers around a Tri-state area, or would she end up with a recurring role in a series of Lord of the Ring movies?
And, what of James-pause-James Cahn, the team front man with his affinity for dames and disguise? Would he continue to charm, wow and woo his way into 007 fame…or would he fall for Elaine like his heart was a mob informant and she was the East River?
How about C. Mathias “Math” Strange, the team’s technical and analytical whiz kid? Would his penchant for bad puns and older dames finally result in his demise…or, would he finish his doctoral degree and go on to star in Marvel movies?
And, what of Peaches LaBoomBoom, the G-Team assassin— Would she continue her strip tease act for budget retirement homes or would she be killing it as a maid hired to simply strip and wax floors?
What about Sythe A. Bossman, the fearless leader and weapons master of The G-Team? Would he continue to direct his music crime-fighting team…or would he simply lead a high school band and supervise a Sunday evening church ensemble, using his director’s baton as a WMD—Weapon of Mass Decent music?
For answers to these and other profound questions and to know how the team with more issues than a complete collection of National Geographics is about to evolve—
Mark this event: TWO NEW MEMBERS to be inducted to the G-Team on
Saturday evening, August 29, 2026
Your Assignment:
>Confirm you have SAVED-THE-DATE
& Your ATTENDANCE COUNT w/Peaches
>SEND YOUR FOOD ALLERGIES & Disliked Foods to PEACHES
(mdinejergens@me.com)
and be ready to tune in for
the next episode (& event details) of
The Adventurous Capers of The G-Team…
Click > /\ …Sound on LOW, Select & Press icon…and READ…
The End? ~ Not Yet . . .
another email & episode WILL follow…
