betty bob's head
TRANSCRIPT
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Paul H. Revis
07/01/2005
A murder mysteryin three acts.
12 pages
The Mystery Of How Betty Bob Bitternuts HeadGot Separated From Her Body
Details of the murder were sketchy. The body, badly decomposed and found at
the side of a little used dirt road just outside of town offered little in the way of
identification other than gender. The victim, a woman, slightly more than middle age,
fully dressed, was missing its head. Rather an important body part, according to Captain
Jackson of the Greater Armpit, Arkansas metro police. The medical examiner agreed and
decided that cause of death was, in fact, due to the loss of the victims head. Other causes
were investigated, toxicology and the like, but no, the loss of the head seemed to be the
only factor involved here.
Once you go missing your head, it pretty much kills you, he said, sagely, to the
newspaper reporter who nodded thoughtfully as he carefully avoided looking at the body.
This is going to be a tough case, men, said the police Captain, We got a body
and no real identification, so lets get out there and try to find that head. Any questions?
Ah, maybe just one, Cap. Where do you suggest we start? asked a young
patrolman, his hand in the air, waving like a schoolboy.
How the hell do I know, Smitherby? returned the captain. Try looking where
we found the body. Do I have to do all your thinking for you?
You want we should start looking for it today? cut in Weatherblatt, the senior
officer. I got some banking to do for, ah, the department, and we got that parade that
starts at noon. The patrol car needs washing too, you know, for the parade, and it sure
could use an oil change before we get too many more miles on it, brakes too. Head isnt
going anywhere, wherever it is.
The Captain nodded. So youre saying we really dont have the time today, is
that what youre saying, Bill?
Thats pretty much it, Joe.
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Well, cant argue with that. First thing Monday then, men. Dont want to screw
up the weekend for you guys. Now to the priorities. Who brought the doughnuts?
Sir? came the small voice from the back row. Everyone moaned, knowing what
was coming.
What is it, Applecracker? sighed the Captain.
Well sir, I was just wondering if anyone had bothered to check fingerprints from
the victim. Sometimes identification can be determined
Monday, Applecracker, I said wed get to it on Monday! You and your high
falutin Police Academy thinking are going to mess up a good fishing weekend for the
rest of us with your fingerprintin and such. Monday is good enough, like we said.
Sheesh!
Sorry sir, just trying to help.
Well, dont! said the Captain, shaking his head in bewilderment.
I dont fish, anyway, mumbled Applecracker, quietly.
I heard that! bellowed the Captain, banging the lectern with a fist, rattling his
clipboard. Youd best be getting your priorities right, Applecracker! A man that dont
fish is not a man that makes a good cop!
Thats for sure! True, true! Words of wisdom! chimed in the others, as the
Captain beamed.
Who the hell hired this guy anyway? demanded the Captain.
Hes the Mayors son, sir. You hired him, the lieutenant reminded him.
And we do love the Mayor, dont we boys? said the Captain with a lecherous
sneer, his hips making obscene movements. Welcome to the force, young man!
Ive been here three years, said Applecracker, throwing up his hands.
How is Her Honor anyway?
Better, since she got the injunction against you all for the harassment.
The mayors place on the ballot was assured after winning the bottom optional
wet t-shirt contest at the Get Drunk Here tap four years ago. The police department
decided that around the clock protective surveillance for the Mayors person was just
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what was called for. The Mayor had disagreed, following the first week of finding three
officers peering into her bedroom window at any given time of the day or night. She said
she didnt mind the officers doing their duty, but the calls of; Take it off Momma! had
gotten on her nerves, along with having to clean up the beer bottles and cigarette butts
every morning.
Well, unless your Momma needs protecting, well just get us some of those
doughnuts and coffee before we hit the streets. Be careful of them terrorists, boys, you
never know when theyll show up and try to cart off the Mayor.
Captain?
What now, Smitherby? Youre starting to get on my nerves, you know that?
Sorry sir, its about that head. What exactly should we be looking for do you
think?
Now that is a fine question, Smitherby, since almost none of us has actually ever
seen a severed head before. The way I see it is this; a head, plain and simple, just like
youd see on top of almost everybodys shoulders, but with a rotting stump on the bottom
end where the body should go. Id say that if you should come across such a thing, and
the rotting stump is on the top where the hair would normally be found, try turning it
upside down. That should clear up the problem. Any questions concerning identification
of a severed head? Yes, Weatherblatt?
What if, and Im just throwing out possibilities here, what if the stump isnt
rotting?
You mean just dripping fresh blood, like that?
Yah, something like that.
Then it may not necessarily be Betty Bitternuts head. We could be facing a
serial killer. We could be famous throughout the state. Serial killers make a town
famous. Keep a lookout for that!
Why did you say it was Betty Bitternuts head we were looking for, and why
didnt you tell us that before? asked Smitherby. And why arent we questioning her
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husband, Bo Bob Bitternut? You know hes the meanest sumbitch in town. If its his
wife, well, I think I can go on record here by saying hed be the one to question first.
Smitherby, I never did say for certain that it was Betty Bitternuts body. If I
knew that for sure, we wouldnt be having this conversation, would we? Its true that the
tattoo on the left arm of the victim says Betty, and theres flame above and below the
word, and yes, I was there when she got that same kind of tattoo the night we graduated
high school, but that isnt positive identification now, is it? And as for her husband Bo
Bob, the reason we arent questioning him is for the very reason you just pointed out. Bo
Bob Bitternut is in fact the meanest sumbitch in town, and we dont want to go around
pissing off that kind of guy by idly accusing him of lopping off his wifes head before we
actually have a positive ID of the body. Do we, Smitherby? It behooves us then to try to
find that head, doesnt it gentlemen?
That makes certain sense, Captain, returned Smitherby, his beaten down look
satisfying the Captains sense of pride in some perverse way.
Monday, though. Well get to it Monday. The Captain glared at Patrolman
Applecracker. Monday! he said again.
On the Street
Say Bill, since the parade passes ol Bo Bob Bitternuts place, why not stop and
have a short confab with him? You know, just to see how he and his wife are getting on.
Vern, you know the parade dont go anywhere near Bitternuts place, and
besides, we got to get the patrol car over to the Taco Palace/Oil Dump for the oil change
and brake job after we pass the bank. You heard the Captain, Applecracker, Monday, and
not a day sooner. You know youre going to piss off the Captain if you keep pushing.
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Just a thought. Didnt mean nothin by it, muttered Applecracker, bitterly. Not
good police work, waiting around to start an investigation, thats all Im saying.
HA! exclaimed Weatherblatt, Speak of the devil! Theres ol Bo Bob now,
walking down the sidewalk just as plain and happy as a meadowlark. In fact, I do believe
hes skipping! Damndest thing I ever saw. He dont skip even when hes drunk on his
ass. Damndest thing! And look, hes got a daisy in his buttonhole! Hmmm.
Weatherblatt reached over and honked the patrol car horn, waving to Bo Bob
Bitternut who smiled broadly as his arm shot out in a friendly return wave.
Theres our opportunity, Bill! Bo Bob himself, and acting all strange like!
exclaimed Vern as he reached for the door handle of the Yugo, which promptly came off
in his hand for the second time that morning.
You see? Thats what happens when you get too enthusiastic and try to do things
you were told not to do! What the hell do you not understand about Monday?
But Bill! pleaded Applecracker, struggling to replace the door handle, with
little success.
Dont you but Bill me, Applecracker! If your mother could hear you
disobeying a direct order Oooooh, the Mayor. Madam Mayor. Momma Mayor. Oh
baby, baby, muttered the senior patrolman, shuddering slightly, his face screwed up
tight, looking the way he did at the nudie bar on Saturday nights.
Thats my mother youre talking about Weatherblatt! shouted Applecracker,
struggling to extract his nightstick from his utility belt.
Oh ease up, Vern, everybody knows about your mothers methods of appointing
people to city posts.
Thats not true! Its rumor, and nothing more! Bo Bob is getting away!
Monday! Damn, boy! And put that nightstick away, youre going to hurt
somebody with it.
Bo Bob Bitternut suddenly stopped skipping down the street, turned, and
approached the police cruiser.
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Get that nightstick back out! exclaimed the senior officer, sweating profusely
as Bo Bob neared the battered Yugo. Call for backup!
Like thats going to do any good, we got the only cruiser that runs. The Pinto
blew up two days ago! exclaimed Vern, struggling once again for the black stick.
Top of the freaking morning, officers! shouted Bo Bob, still ten feet away from
the car, both hands waving a friendly greeting.
Hes on drugs, Vern, warned Weatherblatt, quietly, from the side of his mouth.
Watch him close. That sumbitch aint been that friendly since the third grade.
Say boys, you guys havent seen the rest of my wife anywhere have you? asked
Bo Bob, in a friendly, offhand kind of way. He lit a cigarette, blowing the smoke
through the cruisers open window.
Well, maybe we have, and maybe we havent, Bo Bob, hedged Weatherblatt
warily. You saying youre missing part of her? Whispering to Applecracker, Now
you got me doing it,
Hell yah Im missing part of her. Have been for three weeks now, Bill. Maybe I
should have called you about it. Didnt think of that till just now.
What part are you missing? asked Applecracker, grinning, as if he knew nothing
about it.
Monday, damn it! Weatherblatt growled to Vern, Youre just determined to
screw up this weekend, arent you?
Missing all but her head, and if you know Betty Bob at all, youll know that
thats quite a damn bit to be missing! spluttered Bo Bob with a barely held laugh.
Three hundred and thirty pounds of prime womanhood there! Yup, quite a bit to be
missing, if I do say so!
We got that parade in fifteen minutes! hissed Weatherblatt, desperately trying to
avoid questioning the suspect any further.
Now if, and I aint saying we do, but if we knew where the rest of the body was,
could you tell us where the remaining cranial structure may be located? inquired Vern.
The what? Who the hell is this putz, Bill?
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The Mayors son, moaned Weatherblatt, his head in his hands, bemoaning his
now surely lost weekend, not to mention the chewing out they were going to get from the
Captain for questioning Bo Bob before Monday in the first place.
Mayors son, eh? Dang fine woman, the Mayor. Damn fine piece of
THATS MY MOTHER, YOU UNCOUTH SUMBITCH!! screamed
Applecracker, his face turning a deep red as he slammed his shoulder against the car door
repeatedly in a vain effort to extract his five foot three inch frame from the confines of
the cruiser.
The boy does get worked up, dont he? Just like his daddy does, commented
Bo Bob. Welcome to town boy!
My daddys dead, killed in the Viet Nam war, said Vern, removing his hat,
placing it over his heart in respect. And Ive lived in Armpit all my life, you moron.
Now, where is Betty Bobs head?
Viet Nam, eh? Is that what she told you? snickered Bo Bob, banging on the car
roof. Weatherblatt stifled a laugh as well at the explanation of Verns fathers
whereabouts. War was over by 75. What year were you born, boy, 79? Damn long
pregnancy, Id say. Moron, eh? Kick your behind and never raise a sweat, putz.
When I was born has nothing to do with the question at hand, Vern spluttered,
Where is Betty Bobs head?
Heads back at the house, next to the chicken coop where she left it, said Bo
Bob, frowning now, his good humor gone under the intense questioning of the young
officer.
Would you mind too awfully much if we came by after the parade to take a look
at it? asked Applecracker, suitably cowed by the suspect.
Dont mind at all, Officer Applebutt, you come over any time you like, it aint
going anywhere. Bring the Mayor, he added, snickering again.
Not bringing the Mayor, mumbled Applecracker as he slid the gear selector into
first gear, and eased off the clutch. The mighty 67 horsepower Yugo engine balked and
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spluttered, blue smoke exploding from the tailpipe as the machine gained what little
speed was left in it.
After the high school float, the third grade comb and tissue paper marching band,
and the police cruiser had passed by the reviewing stand for the third time, the annual
My Armpit, My Home parade was declared a rousing success. Disaster was only
narrowly averted when the marching band, who had fallen down and gotten a boo-boo on
her knee, was nearly run over by the police cruiser. Judging the parade were the Mayor,
resplendent in her hot pink mini-skirt, and yellow halter top, the Captain, who paid more
attention to the Mayor as she jumped up and down in glee while the parade passed than
he did to the parade, and both of the Armpit Consolidated Schools school teachers, who
gave a unanimous grade of A+ to the Mayor for her contribution to physical education
appreciation.
Now can we go to Bo Bob Bitternuts place and investigate that head? asked
Vern Applecracker after writing a citation to himself for noise abatement due to honking
the car horn and sounding the siren during the parade.
Weatherblatt leaned close to the patrolman and stuck a finger out, shaking it as he
spoke, Oil change, brake job, and wash, since we didnt get to finish those tasks due to
your insistence that we question a probable innocent person before the parade! Monday!
Your daddy was right, you are a putz, Applecracker
Thats it, Im telling my Mom!
Seeing the Mayor? Oooooh, the Mayor! Looked mighty good on the reviewing
stand today, boy. Sure, lets go see her up close.
I know when Im beat, sighed Vern, Monday it is.
Monday. Police crew meeting.
First order of business; jay-walking, said the Captain. The citizens want us to
put a stop to it! Theyre screaming for it.
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Its the citizens doing it, observed Smitherby.
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The Captain hesitated while he considered the problem and then began nodding
his head gravely.
Smitherby, when youre right, youre right, no doubt about it. Well have to
study this problem before we start jailing the general populace for crimes against
themselves. Come to think of it, it was old lady Nuttblatz, drunk on her ass, doing all the
complaining, and she was standing in the middle of the street while she was screaming at
me during the parade. As you were, men. Is there anything important we should be
doing today? If not, I have an important meeting with the Mayor
Head? asked Smitherby, his hand in the air.
How dare you intimate that sort of vile thing about the Mayor! exclaimed the
Captain, his face flushing.
We have a body with no head. We were supposed to look for it today, reminded
Applecracker.
Oh, that! Yes, men, lets look into that. To recap, we have a body that bears a
slight resemblance to Betty Bob Bitternut, but missing that all-important identifier, the
head. Lets start on the north end of town and search every square foot of ground until
we find it. Thats all!
Great plan, Captain! exclaimed Weatherblatt. Well find it for sure.
Its next to the chicken coop on Bo Bob Bitternuts place, right where she left it.
On the south end of town, said Vern.
Boy thinks hes one of those sidekicks! How do you know where the missing
head is? Who the hell is this guy anyway? Who hired you, boy?
Hes the Mayors son, you hired him Joe, said Weatherblatt.
Well, why didnt someone say so? Welcome to the force, son! exclaimed the
Captain darting from behind the lectern, his hand out.
Thank you Captain, moaned Vern, shaking the Captains proffered hand.
Anyway, Bo Bob told us where the head was before the parade on Friday. Said we
could come over any time to see it.
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You questioned Bo Bob Bitternut on Friday after I distinctly told you wed get to
it on Monday, is what Im hearing, Applecracker?
He approached us and volunteered the information, sir, said Vern.
Youre on report, Applecracker! shouted the Captain. You could have ruined
the entire weekend of fishing with that sort of irresponsible questioning. You could have
gotten your bottom kicked besides. Bo Bob is the meanest sumbitch in town!
Yah, he threatened to do that, muttered Applecracker.
Then hes on report too! Ten days suspension for threatening to kick a police
officers bottom! shouted the Captain, You hear that Bitternut? Ten days! Put your
badge on the table before you leave!
Yes sir, said Bo Bob from the back of the room. Are you sure you can put the
Chief of Police on report, Joe?
Well, no. But Im pretty sure I can yell at you for threatening a Police Officer.
Oh sure, you can do that. Its in the rule book, agreed Bo Bob. Well men, you
heard the Captain. Lets break into groups of four and start on the north end of town
looking for that head. Be diligent, men. The identification of this victim is paramount to
our investigation.
There are only four of us on the force, noted Smitherby.
Then that makes it easier. We wont be loosing people again like we did last
time. Oh, and one more thing, men, could some of you sort of keep a look out for my
wife Betty Bobs body? Seems weve misplaced that.
We have an extra one if youd like to use it, offered Weatherblatt, Its in none
too great of a shape, but youre welcome to it, if itll help.
Bo Bob brightened up considerably at the offer. Where you keeping this spare?
Up at Jim Bobs Fine Used Cars and Meats. Its in his freezer.
Thats swell. Ill go on over and see if its something we can use. I sure would
like to get Betty Bob back together again. Cant kill chickens without her, and if I cant
get the chickens killed I cant make any money. It is a chicken farm after all. Betty Bob
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is essential to my economic welfare. Everyone nodded at this obvious bit of
information.
Dont mean to be nosey, Chief, but how did the two bits get separated in the first
place? asked Applecracker. I mean heads just dont leave bodies on their own.
You are being a nosey little sumbitch, Applecracker, but its a fair question. You
know, it would make my job easier if they did. Then Betty Bob wouldnt have to hold
the chickens on to the stump while I lopped off their heads. I mean if they just came off
when it was the right time, we wouldnt have to go through all that work. Any other
questions? asked Bo Bob.
So, how did hers come off, Chief? asked Applecracker, pressing on gamely.
With the axe! You are a pushy little sumbitch, arent you? You new here?
Yes moaned Applecracker, bending over, his face in his hands, I just got off of
the boat from Pakistan yesterday.
Welcome to town boy! exclaimed the Captain, rushing forward, his hand
extended, Good to have you on the force! Could use some new blood here.
Oh, god! moaned Applecracker, as everyone else approached him, their arms
outstretched. He shook each proffered hand, thanking them all by name.
Smart boy, this one. Been here only one day and knows everyone by name.
Speaks damn good English too, for an Italian! Youll go far in this department, boy,
thats for sure, predicted Weatherblatt.
Suddenly, Captain Jackson rushed to the window and peered out, muttering, Oh,
baby, baby, baby, Under his breath. Everyone followed him to the window. False
alarm, boys! Thought that was the Mayor walking by. Just Annamay Bob Weatherblatt
headed for the lamppost like she does every day. She does seem to like that lamp post a
lot.
She says its a comfortable place to think, said her father.
Seems like she meets up with an awful lot of out of town men while shes there,
observed Smitherby.
True enough, but she says she plays tricks on them, or some such nonsense.
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Mighty fine daughter, Bill, just look at her hug that pole. She must be thinking
about some mighty important stuff,. observed Bo Bob.
Responsible, too, for a fifteen year old! returned her father, proudly. She
bought them boobs with her own money just last year. She saved that dollar a week
allowance for two years to pay for em.
Chief? said Applecracker, his nose still pressed against the window as a pickup
truck with out of state plates stopped, and Annamay Bob jumped in.
What now, Applecracker?
Could you please tell us the story of how your wife, Betty Bob Bitternut,
happened to loose her head, and how was it that we came to find what may be her body a
mile from your chicken farm? You know how much we love hearing that story!
Well boys, gather around, have a seat and let me tell you a funny story! said Bo
Bob, grinning from ear to ear. It was generally known that Bo Bob wouldnt beat you up
if you told him a funny story before he started pummeling you. Bo Bob loved a funny
story. Well, boys, it was this way. It was a hot morning, July 28th
Thats two weeks from now! Applecracker butted in.
Whos telling this story, foreigner? Who hired this guy, anyway?
The Captain did, hes the Mayors son, explained Smitherby.
Damn fine woman, your mother. Fine Mayor too! said Bo Bob to the Captain.
Young looking too.
Shes the foreigners mother, corrected Smitherby.
By dang! Ive known you all these years, Billy Bob Jackson, and didnt know
you had a brother! Welcome to town, boy! said Bo Bob pumping Applecrackers hand.
Well, back to the story, since you insisted on hearing it. Like I was saying, it was a crisp
day in June, the fifteenth I think, and Betty Bob and I were out by the chicken coop
killing chickens, like we do. We have a chicken farm, you know. Raise chickens for
them restaurants up north. Everyone nodded.
Hes not my brother, said the Captain.
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Then why did you say he was? Make up your mind, Bill! Anyway, Im
whacking away at the chickens while Betty Bob holds em down on the old stump.
Feathers flying all over the place, blood squirting everywhere, just as always, until Betty
Bob picks up one old chicken and sits her on the stump, and her hand slips off the
chickens neck just as Im coming down with the axe. She slips forward and her head
hits the stump just as the axe does. Old Betty Bobs head goes flying, blood squirting
everywhere, it was a mess, I tell you!
So how did her body get a mile from your farm? asked Vern.
Thats the funny part! said Bo Bob, chuckling. Ever see a chicken with its
head lopped off? Set it down and the durn thing will run like blazes until it finally falls
over and dies. Well, thats just what Betty Bob did! Womans been raising chickens for
so long, she began to be like a chicken I guess. She hopped up and started running
around like there was no tomorrow, arms a flappin just like a chickens wings! I started
yelling at her to come back but she cant hear me cause her head aint attached. Then I
started laughing, since it was so funny seeing her run around like she were. I laughed so
hard I couldnt hardly see, so I lost sight of her. By the time I stopped laughing, she was
gone.
Didnt you look for her? asked Smitherby.
Sure I did. What kind of a husband would I be if I didnt go and look for her?
Stood on that stump for a half an hour looking. I figured shed come back when she was
ready, then when she didnt I figured she was just mad at me for lopping off her head.
Figured shed come back when she cooled down a bit and wasnt quite so mad.
Didnt you think she might be, you know, DEAD? asked Applecracker.
Thought about that. But you all know how strong headed Betty Bob is, I figured
shed come back, big as life!
So youre saying you didnt actually murder your wife, it was just a tragic
accident? Is that right? asked Weatherblatt.
Yup! said Bo Bob, Who said she was murdered anyway?
The guy writing the story, didnt you read the first line? Thats going to make it
hard for him if it wasnt a murder.
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I suppose I could say I caught her with some other man and killed her in a
jealous rage.
Is that what happened?
No.
Well, its too late to change it now anyway. Hell just have to deal with it. Can
we go and see the head now, Bo Bob?
Is it Monday yet?
END