Take away the comma and you got yourself a nice hard-boiled PI name, Duke Creighton:
In the seedy underbelly of Noiryorktownville City, Duke Creighton hung his shingle as the go-to private investigator for cases that smelled fishier than a tuna cannery. It was a dark and stormy afternoon when she sashayed into his office, a dame with curves more dangerous than a mountain road and a sob story longer than a CVS receipt.
"I need your help, Duke," she cooed, batting her lashes like a butterfly with hay fever. "Someone swiped my prize-winning poodle, Fifi LaRue!"
Duke figured it was a dog-gone shame, so he took the case. But the deeper he dug, the more he realized this wasn't your run-of-the-mill puppy-napping. Oh no, this was the work of the notorious criminal mastermind, The Pupinator!
Duke hit the pavement, sleuthing his way through a maze of suspects with names like "Mugs" and "Lefty" and "Suspicious Pete." Every clue pointed Duke further down the rabbit hole of deception and doggy treats, and soon he found himself up to his fedora in trouble...
