Fighting crime requires a dedication that does not know about schedules or holidays. That is why this Sunday night, Squattedman is on the prowl of some sailors whose vessel is docked in the port. That afternoon, from the window of his apartment he had seen strange movements around this vessel named “Spetaniclose”: Instead of loading or unloading the ship’s merchandise with due care, from the prow deck the crew was throwing onto the wharf large Chinese porcelain vases that naturally got shattered. Something did not fit in. That is why Squattedman went to the wharf at dusk and now, hidden among some wood containers, spies on the Spetaniclose that swings tied to the wharf. The lights of Brooklyn are visible on the other side of the East River. Scattered all around the wharf in front of the ship, innumerable fragments of Chinese porcelain bear witness to the savagely landing of its cargo. 

Walking in a squatting position and on tiptoe to make no noise when stepping on any of these little pieces of porcelain, Squattedman slides under cover of darkness inside the vessel. There is light in one of the cabins and our hero stops to listen to a strange conversation between some rough guys and a very mannered and learned man:

“He’s got to be somewhere!”

“Philosophically speaking, that statement is incontrovertible”

“What does he say, Smity?”

“He says ‘Ya’.”

“And to say ‘ya’ he have to make it so long?”

“It’s his way of speaking.”

“Excuse me, but I don’t speak. I express myself. I am an artist, and I still say that those Chinese vases could have been examined without the need to shatter them. ”

“Translate, Smity!”

“Bah, it’s not worth it. He hasn’t said anything that matters.”

“Hey, fop, you’re beginning to bust my balls! Run along! Move quick if y’ know what’s good for ya!”

“Don’t forget that we need him, captain. He is the only one who can recognize the dwarf.”

“Cut the crap you old dope fiend! How many dwarves do you think are hidden in this ship?!”

“Just one, I guess.”

“Then I could recognize him myself! Be blond or brown, a dwarf is a dwarf. ”

“Another incontrovertible statement that Descartes himself would have approved.”

“What did he say now?!”

“Again ‘ya’.”

“In any case, do not forget that this dwarf has more intelligence in the little finger of his foot than all the sailors of this ship together in their heads.”

“Translate, Smity!”

“He says the dwarf is a clever dude and we’re jackass. That’s why we can’t find him. ”

“I’ll show this dude he can’t make a fool out of me! Come on! Fight! You weak-livered pole cat! ”

“What has that boom been?”

Squattedman head-butt the wall and bursts into the cabin.

“The dwarf!!” exclaims the captain with bulging eyes.

“I’m afraid you’re wrong. It’s not him”, the mannered man says.

“No?! Do ya think I don’t know how to recognize a dwarf as soon as I see him?!

“Technically speaking, that is not a dwarf but a squatting man”, the fop says.

“Grab him! Hurry up!” the captain orders his men. And immediately a whirlwind triggers that ends with six sailors and the captain knocked out, and a mannered fop shivering like under a polar cold snap.

Always squatting, Squattedman turns red as if making a great effort and a thunder sounds behind him. “Rude!” exclaims the fop, and immediately is flying through the air held by one leg by Squattedman.

This is a non-profit blog whose purpose is to raise funds for children in need. So if you want to make a donation in exchange for this story, click on this link to UNICEF. I really appreciate it!

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