The Kidnapped Ferret

“No dice,” I said, “I hate rodents.”

“We’ll take the case,” said Jill, my secretary.

“You need to look up ‘no dice’ in the dictionary,” I said. I yawned and sat up. “Aliens, huh?”

“Yeah,” the man replied. “They speak ferret, but English gives them trouble. They said Benji, my ferret, is especially smart, and they would only convey their message to him. But now he’s gone, and they threatening to destroy Earth!”

“Right, that seems like a perfectly sane story,” I said. “I’m, uh, gonna need payment up front.”

“Don’t worry, sir,” Jill said, “we’ll help you find Benji. I’m sure he’s in your house somewhere.”

“No, you don’t understand!” the man said, near tears. “Benji’s a show ferret. He’s great, he was going to take the blue ribbon at nationals!”

“There’s a national ferret show?” I asked.

“Yeah, it’s downtown, at the Holiday Inn. But someone’s kidnapped Benji!”

“Raising show ferrets is a cutthroat business,” I said. “Tell the aliens I’m on the case.”

“You tell them,” he said. “They’re waiting in my car.”

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