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An ideal gift certificate for those who remember the "old times"  and dwell in them, where the yesterdays were so much better and simpler.   It displays an amusing story of those days as yesterdays had also hard times in it, especially if one dreamt to be a great detective then.

It took some time to achieve this Diploma, having it mastered now you live your life in accordance to it. As such 
you are probably sitting in your darkened office smoking a LUCKY, watching the flickering shadows as the faulty 
neon across the street goes off and on. The words 'Sam Spade and Philip Marlowe, Detectives', flash onto 
the wall, over and over. Those were yesterdays guys, dead and buried. This is a dangerous game.

There is a hole in your shoe where it hit the sidewalk one too many limes and only one bullet left in 
your .38 Special - life is so tough that you have to chew on it or spit it out. Your ever-loving secretary Velma

hasn't been paid for weeks, she sure is loyal. That crazy dame even put a dime in the parking meter outside; 
guess she don't know the jalopey has been repossessed.

A gorgeous dame has come in. Exotic type - she has a long 
ebony cigarette-holder between her ruby lips. Who the hell uses cigarette-holders anymore.

She says, ' I am in trouble'. You tip up your fedora to get a better look at the puilchritude, you say, 
'You and me both. Sugar'. She sure looks like trouble. She hitches up her skirt and sits and you 
hear the whisper of silk as she crosses her legs. She is showing more than is legal.

'My husband is dead, murdered", I hear a funny sound in her throat. A sob? 
It could have been a laugh. 'How did he meet the Reaper, Honey'. She makes that funny 
sound again. 'He was shot, stabbed. strangled and poisoned and all the evidence points to me. 
My husband had powerful friends , he was a Bilionaire - they'll do anything to frame me. They are offering 
a million plus for anyone to turn me in. You've gotta help me'. 'I've got no-one else to turn to" She pleads.

Suddenly. everything you learned in your 'SHAMUS AND GUMSHOE DIPLOMA' kicks in - you put on your 
Trenchcoat, pull out your .38 Special and say, "Le's go meet these pals of your husband, Sugar".

Life is funny, you just never know if fate is gonna throw you snake-eyes or a lucky Seven.


Shamus & Gumshoe Diploma

$2.00 Regular Price
$1.00Sale Price
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