Death Foots the Bill

A Bill Clinton Detective Story

Another body. Another dead Bill. Started a long time ago. Bill Murray was first. Funny guy. I just don't understand it. Who'd want to kill Bill? That's funny. I need to use that one at the next meeting.

Victim IDed as William H. Macy. Man, I loved Shameless. This sicko, whoever he is, is running out of Bills and is on the move to William's who may have gone by Bill once or twice. Need to head back to Buffalo and inform the team.

I fly back to Buffalo on a friend's plane. Maybe I'll head to the Finger Lakes. Ah, that's addiction talking. There's no time. Need the synthetic stuff. I take out a syringe and inject the serum. Fountain of Youth in a vial. We land and I head straight for the stadium in Orchard Park, home of the Bills.

I take my seat at the head of the table. I've sat at the heads of many tables. Not the one at home, though. H always insists. But whether it was the governor's mansion, the white house, the Bills, or even first chair saxophone, Bill Clinton always sits at the head of the table. "Let's take role, Bills. Billy Dee Williams?"

"Present," he said, then sipped on a Colt .45. The second coolest Bill, behind yours truly.

"Bill Gates?"

"Present." Fucking Nerd. Necessary for the mission but always talking about vaccines. If there was one Bill I wouldn't miss...

"Bill Cosby?"

"Puddin Pop."

Poor guy wasn't the same since he grabbed the wrong glass and opened up like Janet Reno at a church full of children. He's the Bill I need most right now.

"Bill Fong?"

"Ni Hao."

Chinese immigrant in Queens. Works construction and the guys at the site started calling him Bill. What can I say, I build coalitions. Plus, he was the only guy to answer my ad in the paper. You fight with the army you have.

"Okay, Bills. We have some serious problems. And not the kind that go away with a saxophone solo and a refusal to inhale."

"We could always develop a vaccine that makes people love Bills. We could start distribution in India and then-"

"Damn it, Gates! Not every problem can be solved with a vaccine." This fucking guy.

"How's about we set a trap for this Jive Turkey? We have a Bill convention and invite all the remaining famous Bill's, Billy's, Billy Bob's and William's on Earth. No way that ugly mother can resist, ya dig?"

"That's a great idea, Billy Dee. Plus, with all those Star Wars conventions you've done, you know how to get it all set up, right?" "Hell no, Gates. I just show up to those things, charge $30 for an autograph and hit on the trim."

Billy Dee was right. I could use some trim about now, too. Maybe a big gal, a real Lewinsky-type. Dammit, Bill, not now.

"Okay, it's settled. We throw a Bill convention. Everyone call all the other Bills you know. Except you, Bill Fong. I need you to calculate how much the projects gonna cost. H doesn't let me dip too much from the foundation these days."

<Chinese>

"Thanks, Bill Fong. You're one cool hombre."

The convention was a grand old time. If it wasn't for the killer on the loose, I'd have had a whole lot more fun. But I had to stay vigilant. No amount of Bill themed costumes or slutty Bill themed costumes was going to distract me from the mission. Oh damn, is that Billy Eilish? I might be 80 years old, but I have needs.

<15 minutes in the back of a broom closet later>

"You were great, Billy."

"Thanks. Looks like you're the bad guy now."

I laughed, but I didn't get it. I promised to grant her membership to the Legion of Bills, but rule #1, no skirts. Not my rule, it was from before my time. Bad enough I had women in my cabinet. I can't go breaking more rules. Plus, H. would kill me. Or make it look like I did it to myself.

I walked the convention hall, the smell of her still on my cigar and I puffed through the convention center, until I found the mutilated Bill Fong.

"Oh, no. Bill! I failed you!"

"Fuck you, Birr Crinton.”

"Shush, don't talk Bill. I'll go get help."

"Oh, no you won't!"

A woman appeared from the shadows. Impossible, I thought. I would have smelled her. Whoever this Bill Killer was, she was more dangerous than a thousand Juanita Broderick’s, that was for sure.

"Huma Yabadabadoo?"

She stood there, holding a gun, pointing it right at me. Now I know why my senses deceived me.

"But why?"

"I've always hated you. I knew I couldn't get to you, not unless I started killing off other Bills."

It was true, the one thing I loved more than getting strange was my name and all others who bore it.

"And now you're going to die."

"Not so fast, Rudy!"

Just then, Cosby came to save the day. Using the last remaining drops of his special blend, he threw it at Huma's face and she took a nice, long nap.

"Thanks, Cosby. You saved my ass again."

"Theo, I'm always going to be there for you." That's what being a father is all about.”

Not long after, the police came to take statements. I couldn't let them find out about the Legion of Bills, so I pulled the old Vince Foster special on Bill Fong.

"So you're saying, Mr. President, that this Chinese Immigrant came to your convention, cut himself open and pulled out his own innards, then shot himself twice in the back of his head with a pistol that says property of Huma Abedin?"

"Did I mention he was an illegal Chinese immigrant?"

The cops looked at one another and understood what I was trying to lay out. I mentioned H. offhand to make sure they got the message. I married one scary bitch, let me tell you.

I explained the whole situation to the rest of the Bills at the next meeting. We were all sorry to see Bill Fong dead, but started recruiting his replacement.

"I nominate Bill Pullman. He's alright for a honky”, said Billy Dee.

I didn't like the idea of two Bills who had been Presidents in the club. Even if it was only in a movie.

"Wait a minute, " Gates chimed in. "What happened to Huma? Won't she come back to get you and possibly all of us?"

"We won't be seeing her anymore, right Cosby?"

"These kids say the darnedest things" he said with a wink and we all had a nice long laugh.

The End.