Just when you thought there were too many, here is the only CSI team not yet exploited on television. I see this story as the pilot for a series. It could easily be converted to a screenplay.
“He’s on his way.” The radio report was crisp and clear. Dewey checked his watch. Ought to be home in time for dinner.
“Roger that.” He put the handset down on top of a steel drum.
A faded blue El Camino that had seen better days rolled up to the loading dock and its driver got out. He was a husky middle aged man wearing a torn tee shirt and grimy jeans, but he was surprisingly agile. Instead of walking up the three steps, he leaped easily onto the dock and said, “Knock, knock, knock. I’m here for the pick up.”
“Inside,” Dewey shouted from the shadowy interior. “C’mon in. My name’s Dewey.”
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The driver stuck out his hand as he approached. “Bob. They call me Beer Can Bob. Howdy.”
Dewey drew back to reveal three 50 gallon drums. “Here’s the deal. We got 150 gallons of paint thinner we need to get rid of. How much you want to take it off our hands and haul it away?”
“Well, lemme see here.” Beer Can looked his potential client up and down. Was the man desperate or not. “Got any other bids?”
“Well, yah. Our guys said it would cost at least $450 to legally dispose of this amount of paint thinner. One trucker said he’d do it for less.”
“How much less?” Beer Can asked cagily.
“Well, I don’t think I should tell you that. I want an honest bid from you, not just to undercut everyone else who might do the job.”
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