Hotdogs are Murder


…Baseball fans, welcome to the first of a four-game series between the LA Curds and your NY Carnivores. Boy, do we have a pitching matchup for your entertainment this evening…

“Turn the radio up, I wanna hear the game.”

…Now, let’s take a look at your starting lineup for the visiting LA Curds, who come into this evening’s game with a record of…

Fuck the game. Tell me everything!”

“Okay. Okay. I’m all set up as usual on the corner of Tenth and Rivers, and I look up and I see this skinny kid settin up his own hotdog stand down the other end of Tenth. I’m thinkin, ‘what the fuck?’ right, so I go over to him and tell him to beat it if he knows what’s good for him. This is my territory, so get the fuck out and sell your hotdogs in another city. So, the kid tells me he’s not going anywhere and that he’s going to sell hotdogs anywhere he wants because it’s a free country and he’s sellin some kind of bullshit meatless hotdogs and he won’t be competing with me because I’m sellin hotdogs with fat. Can you believe that? I feel bad for the kid, for a minute. So, I tell him I’ll give him a fucking break and let him stay until 4:00. After that, I tell him to disappear for good along with his cart and that I never want to see him again.

“Holy shit.”

“Wait, it gets better. I look up at 4:00, and the little fuck is still out there sellin his vegetable and tofu hotdogs. So, I call the boss, and in less than 20 minutes I see the boss hauling the kid’s hotdog cart into the back of his truck and the kid’s ass is in the seat next to the boss and he ain’t lookin too good.

“Holy shit.”

“Wait, it gets better. The boss ditches the kid’s cart into the West River, but now he’s stuck with the kid, or should I say the kid’s body. Bodies float in the river, ya know? Are you ready for this, the boss dumps the kid’s naked body into the meat grinder last night along with all of the other crap and what was once the kid comes out in today’s hotdogs!”

“Holy shit.”

“Wait, it gets better. You know the cop who patrols around Tenth and Rivers? Well, he stops by my stand today and asks me if I know anything about a hotdog stand that washed up in the West River. I tell him I don’t know a goddamned thing about it, and then he starts asking me if I seen someone working that hotdog stand yesterday because several people said they saw a young man on the opposite corner of Tenth and now he’s missing.”

“Holy shit.”

“Wait, it gets better. I hand the cop a hotdog with mustard and sauerkraut, on the house. That’s the kind of guy I am. As he’s chewing, I ask him if he thinks the missing man was murdered. He says to me not at this time because there is no body. If he could find a body, then it’d be a murder case, and he added if it was a murder case he’d find the body.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yup, the copper is probably shittin out pieces of the corpse he’s looking for right about now.”

…We are seconds away from the first pitch of the game, and as always, the first pitch is sponsored by Eat Well’s Homemade Hotdogs, the official hotdog of the NY Carnivores. The only hotdog made fresh daily from only the best tasting ingredients on earth. Get ‘em from one of their friendly sidewalk vendors or right here at the old ballpark. Heeere’s the pitch…

“C’mon, let’s listen to the game.”

~ fin ~

Bruce Harris is the author of Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson: ABout Type ( He enjoys relaxing with a Marxman.