The Funny PDF

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- 500 AD
Claim. The date of creation was 3761 BC.
Ha ha ha! Thats the Jewish interpretation. The Chinese date of creation is 39,000 BC; The
Babylonians, 200,000; The Hindu 158 trillion; John Lightfoot, 4004 BC; and James Ussher, also
4004 BC. Different people, different date of creation. But, the Canyon Diablo meteorite in
Arizona shows the Earth to be 4.53 billion years old. Boomerangs were used in Australia in 5000
BC, the Mexicans were eating hot tamales also by 5000 BC and geological evidence indicates
human habitation and cattle herding in Egypt before 8000 BC. Take your pick. My Chinese
lover, Chin Sun Yang, just shrugged, grabbed my balls and then said, Who cares, were here
now, lets play ball. We did. She played catcher and I played pitcher.
***
Claim. In the beginning God created everything including this beautiful blue paradise and then
he took a ball of clay blew into it the breath of life and out came Adam, the first Homo sapiens
sapiens, white, good-looking and with a full set of permanent teeth.
Ha ha ha! Thats the creationist point of view. They envision God as a magician who can build
things out of nothing. The truth is that planet Earth is not a paradise but a very dangerous place
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to live in. We have earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanoes eruptions, flooding, fires, tornados,
hurricanes, twisters, and diseases, thousand of diseases. Paradise? My ass! And what about the
race he created? Stinks! All they think about is to wage wars. Their excuse: the world is over
populated. Ha! And why the animals he created have to eat each other? Why not eat seaweed and
kiss each other instead? What did God have to say about his masterpiece? He just looked the
other way and said, Well, shit happens. Even the best architect can see his house go to pots. See
you. As far as the origin of man anybody who has a rational mind knows very well that water is
the origin of all life. Without water there is no life. Where the water came from? The water came
from water-rich meteorites from the outer reaches of the main asteroid belt colliding with the
Earth. There you have it. Hey, magic lovers, life comes only from water, get it? If a hurricane is
threatening your life what are you going to do? Pray to God for help or run to the supermarket
for water? Huh? Excuse me but my head is going in circles. Id better have something to eat and
then go to the whorehouse. Thats something I can believe in.
***
Claim. The Garden of Eden was located in Iraq, close to the city of Ur, birthplace of Abraham
Ha ha ha! Nobody knows where the Garden actually was. Other places mentioned include
Lebanon, The Persian Gulf, Tabriz, Jerusalem, and, according to The Church of Jesus Christ of
Latter-day Saints, in Jackson County Missouri. You name it. My neighbor, Pancho Perez, said
that it was in his hometown, Aguascalientes. Besides, who gives a piece of banana? Who is
going to believe that the lions sang lullabies to the sheep? Hey, garden lovers, kiss my culo.
***
Claim. God had an intelligent conversation with Adam.
Ha ha ha! Intelligent conversation? Come on. The brain of Australopithecus Aphaeresis from
The funnyand sexyside of Western Civilization claims
Hadar Ethiopia, 3.4 million years ago, had a capacity of 450 cubic centimeters, while the brain of
present day Homo sapiens sapiens has a capacity of 1500 cubic centimeters. So, Adam must
have been a moron who couldnt talk straight in any language. Gogagugoho.
***
Claim. The snake is to blame for the downfall of Eve.
Ha ha ha!. Thats just a fairy tale for children under five. The real issue here is who planted the
sinful apple tree and put it next to the hungry Eve? An apple a day makes a man go berserk?
Hey, cousin, Im running to the supermarket to buy me a sac of apples.
***
Claim. Stonehenge is a circle of huge stones built by the Druids on Salisbury Plains in England.
Ha ha ha! Thats one out of many theories. Nobody knows who built the stupid stones. The real
question is how did they put those massive blocks in place? Push and pull or magic? God, the
Devil or Aliens? I go for the Devil. Who else could have done such a devilish thing?
Anyway, the rumor is that in moonless nights a bunch of believers disguise as Druids spend the
night singing in a foreign language, drinking black beer, smoking pot and having sex on top of
the huge stones. At least they get stoned right?
***
Claim. Hebrew patriarch Abraham died when he was 175 years old.
Ha ha ha! Is that all? Listen,
Noah lived 950 years,
Methuselah lived 950 years,
Adam lived 930 years,
Seth lived 912 years,
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And many others of that time lived well over 900 years.
The reason was that God made a perfect world with no pollution, no sin, no cocaine, no
corruption and no dollars. So, they lived longer.
I certainly dont want to live 150 years. My world is different from those old men. I love
marihuana, frozen food, bread with 50 ingredients, diet drinks, whiskey, pizza with pepperoni
and Cohiba cigars. And one more thing, Im a crazy fucker, yes sir. I love to have sex with two
women at the same time, oh yeah.
Besides, this life is nothing but worries, suffering and disappointments. So, who wants to live
150 years of that?
Excuse me, but a tear is running down my cheeks
***
Historical clam. The cultivation of corn in Mexico saved many lives from starvation.
Ha ha ha! What they dont tell you is that a diet based exclusively in corn led to an epidemic of
pellagra with its classic symptoms of diarrhea, dermatitis, dementia and death. Death? Yes, siree.
The ignorant bastards kept on dying despite all their prayers to Quetzalcoatl. How about us?
How come we dont die from eating corn? Because the tacos, burritos, chimichangas and tamales
we eat are filled with meat, which is loaded with vitamin B6 the lack of which is responsible for
the disease. I had a Mexican girl friend, Lupita Lozano, who told me that story while having my
hot tamale in his mouth. Viva Mexico!
***
Claim. Hammurabis Code of Law established rules and regulations concerning social behavior.
The Code made clear the an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth punishment for all transgressors.
It was very successful for the Sumerians of the times.
Ha ha ha! The Hammurabis Code of Laws would be ideal for todays American society. See
here buster:
1. Put to death the carts hijackers
2. Put to death the bank robbers
3. Put to death the convenience stores thugs
4. Put to death the tourist killers
5. Put to death the mother who kills her children
6. Put to death the father who drowns his kids
7. Put to death the kids who shoot their parents
8. Put to death the drug dealers
9. Put to death the husband who beats his wife
10. Put to death the Mayor who steals money from the tax payers
Im sure that Hammurabi would agree with me. How about sex? Old Ham said that there was no
law covering the in out with your wifes sister. The King did it, so why not Ham? I agree, so Im
running to see my sister-in-law, Matilda.
***
Claim. Gilgamesh, the Sumerian hero, spent all his life searching for the meaning of life but
never found it.
Ha ha ha! Stupid asshole. Life has no secret. You go thru Kindergarten, elementary school,
secondary school, college, find a job, get married, have children and then you become a provider
until your body gives up and you lose consciousness and die. Your children will go thru the same
circle. And so on. Hey, soul believers, when you die, you die. Bye!
***
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Claim. Akhenaton IV and his wife Nefertiti decided to do away with all Egyptian deities and
worship only one god insteadthe sun. Reason being that the priests of Amun in Thebes have
grown too powerful and were threatening Akhenatons reign. Akhenaton got away with his
monotheistic religion until his death in 1330 BC.
Ha ha ha! According to The Amarna Letters discovered by German Egyptologists in the 19th
century in Upper Egypt the real reason as to why Akhenaton decided to worship the sun were
recorded in the following conversation between Akhenaton and his wife Nefertiti:
A: Im sick and tired of the priests telling me what to do. Every weekend they come with a list
of new gods and expect me to add them to the list. Kiss my happur!
N: Freaking priests! You just have to invent a new religion, thats all
A: Ive been thinking. Whats the most important thing in life? Food and water, right? And they
need the heat of the sun to be available. So Im going to create a monotheistic religion based on a
new godthe sun. The freaking priests will have to put up and or shut the freaking off. What do
you think?
N: Im with you, dear. And in addition you can tell them that the sun will last forever so they
wont have to worry about famines in the far future.
A: Right on! I feel better already. Now lets have some happy sex. Go ahead, lie down and wrap
your legs around my neck. Like that. Wow! Khepreshkhuchow. Whatever that mean.
***
Claim. In his autobiography Sargon of Akkad wrote that he was the illegitimate son of a famous
priestess. He wrote: My mother was a high priestess, my father I knew not. She conceived me in
secret and then put me in a basket and sent me down the river. Fortunately, Akki, the drawer of
water, took me as his son and reared me. He taught me how to lie, how to steal from the rich and
how to kill with my bare hands Nevertheless he went on to become king of the Sumerians and
one of the greatest kings of his time.
Ha ha ha! Basket down the river? That sounds familiar. My best friend, Rory, was also put in a
basket and sent down the Mississippi river. Luckily for him, a guy fished him out and brought
him up. He was a boat thief and taught Rory how to steal boats while the rich owners were on
vacation. A lucrative business. So what? Stealing from the rich is nothing new. After all, the rich
steals from the poor. Caca!
***
Claim. Sinuhe was an Egyptian doctor who fell in love with a courtesan, lost his license and died
in poverty
Ha ha ha! Sinuhe was a rogue who lived at the expenses of his King, Senwosret I, married his
ugly daughter Akiki, and spent the rest of his life drinking beer and having fun at Amenhoteps
whorehouse. He died young as a result of an untreated gonorrhea. Condoms were not used in
Egypt, you know.
***
Claim. Nobody knows how the Egyptians constructed the giant Pyramids of Giza
Ha ha ha! Let me tell you, chums. The most outstanding thing about the pyramids is not how tall
it is but how they managed to carry those huge pieces of concrete up the ramp and put them in
the proper place. A well kept mystery over the centuries. But they did it. And, according to the
Greek historian Herodotus, they did it in only twenty years. Isnt that amazing? Well, kiss my
culo. The secret procedure is no secret anymore. British scholars now know how the Egyptians
did it. Listen to this. Slaves rolled thousands of barrels to the closest river, filled them with fine
sand and water and then blew bubbles into the barrel with a bubble-blower. After that, the slaves
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rolled the light barrels into the designed position and poured the mixture into a previously
excavated hole. Result? Within twelve hours the bubbles expanded and the mixture became a
block of concrete. All done! And, for your information, they did it in five years and not in twenty
as Herodotus claimed. Remember that Herodotus invented the retsina wine and was drunk most
of the time.
***
Claim. Cleopatra died of snakebite
Ha ha ha! Thats Hollywood version. Cleopatra loved to drink beer, the most common drink in
ancient Egypt. Mark Anthony, her lover, knew this and decided to get rid of her and become the
next king. One night after an exhaustive night of lovemaking, Egyptian style, he dropped six
ounces of hemlock into her beer mug and offered to her. She was very thirsty and gulped the
beer down. The poison attacked her nervous system and within minutes she was Cleopatra no
more. Stiff. Hey, friend, those Hollywood flicks can make a jackass out of you. Good thing that I
hate animals.
***
Claim. The Assyrian Empire was built on iron-tipped arrows
Ha ha ha! The makers of the bows were the responsible for the military conquests of the
Assyrians. They developed a curved light bow that could be carried on the right shoulder while
marching forward. The bow was made of birch and glued with fish glue. So, what was more
important, the bow or the arrow? Without the bow all they could do was scratch their back with
the iron-tipped arrows. As a matter of fact my lover, Cecilia, scratches my back with her long
fingernails resembling an arrow until I had an ejaculation.
***
Claim. Avicenna, the most famous Persian doctor, died of old age in his home
Ha ha ha! Avicenna knew too much for his own good. He was a prominent physician, a chemist,
a mathematician, a poet, an Islamic scholar, an astronomer, an architect, an engineer, a professor
of physiology, and a philosopher. In addition he could speak twenty different languages. Every
Friday night he used to go to a bar, got drunk, started cursing in different languages and then
started fighting with the other patrons. One night he got stinking drunken, cursed Susa the
bartender in six different languages and then punched him on the nose. Susa hit him back with a
bottle of wine right on the medulla and Avicenna kicked the bottle and then died. Well done,
Susa. Hey, amigo, Im not what you call a physicians friend. The more they know, the more
they charge. Freak them bastard
***
Claim. Platos Republic states that doing the right thing is better than doing the wrong thing
Ha ha ha! Policemen try to do what is just and right but all they get in return is lead coming their
way. When there is a domestic violence call, the perpetrator welcomes the cops with a burst of
bullets from an AK-47. When there is convenience store robbery, the thugs fire their 9mm with
both hands killing some of the enforcers. When there is a bank robbery, the masked men killed the
teller, the manager and the guard who tried to avoid the heist. The poor guard was a family man
and a devout catholic and didnt believe in the death penalty. Thats why I carry a concealed .38
special every time I go to the bank. I do the right thing to prevent an unjust act. In Platos time
they used words to prevent robberies. They die.
***
Claim. Aristotle maintained that all knowledge comes only from own experience
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Ha ha ha! Not quite, Ari. We all learn from the experience of others. We learn from our doctors to
avoid emergency rooms. We learn from our hard-working poor parents to avoid working 9-5. We
learn from our dead soldiers to avoid political wars. We learn from our Catholic priests to avoid
being touched. We learn from our criminal lawyers how to avoid the death penalty. We learn from
our health advisors how to avoid greasy hamburgers. We learn from our movie stars how to avoid
marriage. Aristotle was wrong. I, myself, learn from my fraternity brothers how to give bogus
checks and get away with it. So what? Hey, Aristotelians, learn from the experience of others.
Youll be glad you did.
***
Claim. Alexander the Great was the greatest of them all
Ha ha ha! Textbooks tell us how great he was, how he conquered Egypt, India and the whole
Persian Empire. But, but they dont tell you about Hephaestion. He was Alexanders lover. Yeap.
The Great was a homosexual and Hephaestion was his lover. In fact, before going to war,
Alexander had sex with his lover to release tension. I think that was better than to consult the
Delphi Oracle. I do the same. Every time Im going to take a test in college, I go to the
whorehouse first and ah, ah, ah, ahhhhhahahahah! Im not stupid so I use ribbed condoms.
***
Claim. Sophocles play Oedipus Rex was first performed in 429 BCE and is considered to be the
best play ever written.
Ha ha ha! Best play ever written? How about Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, or Look back in
Anger? Oedipus was good for Sophocles time but now is totally obsolete. I read the Pus in
college and the only thing I remember is the verbal duel between Oedipus and the Sphinx. It went
like this:
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S: Im going to ask you a riddle. If you solve it I let you go; otherwise youll be my lunch.
P: Go ahead you ugly bitch.
S: What creature walks on four legs in the morning, two legs in the afternoon, and three legs in
the evening?
P: Easy as prune pie. Man-who crawl on all four as a baby, then walks on two feet as an adult,
and then walks with a cane in old age.
S: Blast you, asshole! But wait, Im not finished yet. I have one more under my lions mane.
Listen. There are two sisters: one gives birth to the other and she, in turn, gives birth to the first.
Who are the two sisters?
P: Day and night.
S: Youre right! Youve solved the two riddles. You deserve to live and I must face my destiny.
And she threw herself from her high rock and died.
P: Caca! Now I can go to my house, kill my son and have sex with my mother. La, la, la.
***
Claim. The New Testament tells all about the life of Jesus Christ.
Ha ha ha! Jesus was born in Judea in AD 1 and crucified in AD 29. But, but what happened in the
middle years? Where did he learn to read and write? What was the name of his teachers? What
kind of games did he like? Who were his friends? Did he have a best friend? Did he like to do
pranks? Who cut his hair? Did he ever get sick? Was he a good boy? Did he ever have a girl
friend? No records have been found. Nothing. However, in 1894 Nicolas Notovich published a
book entitled The Unknown life of Christ where he claimed that from puberty to adulthood Jesus
was in Benares studying the Vedas and it was there where he developed his own philosophy. He
learned about wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust and gluttony and decided to change the fragility of the
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human race. So, he said good-by to his guru and went back to Judea. You know the rest of the
story. Sounds too simplistic to be true? Can you change the spots of the leopard? Can you change
me? Thats what Sandra my last girl friend tried to do. Do the dishes, Sit straight, Dont
drink from the bottle, Use fork and knife, Get out of the kitchen, Turn the damn TV off,
Wash your dirty hands, Not tonight, Ive a headache.
My reply: Fuck you, Sandra! Good-by.
No, you cannot change human nature. Neither can Jesus, or Allah, or Brahma, or anybody else.
Were all sinners. And you know what? I like it. Tra, la, la.
***
Claim. Julius Cesar suffered from epilepsy
Ha ha ha! The reason Julius was falling down was that he was so worried planning his next
campaign that he ate very little and drank excessively. Naturally his blood sugar fell below 45
mg/dl and he started shaking, Hypoglycemia you know. Classical symptoms of hypoglycemia
are:
Confusion
Sweating
Tremors
Falling down
Thats why Archagathus, Caesars physician, always had a jar of honey at hand. If you go on
a crash diet and starve yourself to death you will have seizures too. Moron! I suffer from
Diabetes 2, eat only 150 grams of carbs a day, drink a lot of water, eat plenty of fruits and
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veggies, no milk, and no cheese, walk 2 miles every day, and take metformin 500 mg twice a
day. And you know what? I feel like a horse in heat. Want to see it?
***
Claim. Constantine the Great was a devout Christian
Ha ha ha! The Ten Commandments are:
1. You shall not have no other God before me
2. You shall not make unto thee any graven image
3. You shall not take the name of the LORD in vain
4. You should keep the Sabbath day holy
5. You shall honor your father and your mother
6. You shall not kill
7. You shall not commit adultery
8. You shall not steal
9. You shall not bear false testimony against your neighbor
10. You shall not covet your neighbors house nor covet your neighbors wife
But, but Constantine had his son, Crispus, killed in 326 AD. And a few days later had his
wife, Fausta, killed too because Constantine had heard a rumor that the two were having an
illicit relationship. Constantine was a very jealous person and he couldnt stand the thought
of Fausta having sex with a younger man. Im the greatest, he said, pointing a finger to the
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roof. In and out of bed, God damn! And he went around having sex with his female
servants. Hey, brother, this guy was as much Christian as I am. Freak you, Constantine!
***
500-1500
Claim. The major cause of the fall of the Roman Empire was Neros love for fire
Ha ha ha! Thats BS. The Roman Empire fell because:
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1. Disagreement between the House and the Emperor (Jut like today. Our congressmen keep
on blaming the President for spending too much while they get all the imaginable pork )
2. Failing economy (Just like today. The Chinese economy keeps on growing while our
economy keeps on shrinking. Habla Chinese?)
3. High unemployment (Just like today. Before the score was 5, and now the score is 9. Is
this a ball game?)
4. Political corruption (Just like today. Dodd, Frank, Jackson, Burris, Rangel, Boxer, Ensign
and the list goes on, and on and on. Easy come easy go)
5. Too many wars (Just like today. Billions and billions for the Texas buddies. Have hat,
will prosper. Yippee, yipiao.)
6. And more taxes (Just like today)
What a shame! The downfall is gaining momentum, no question about it. Im not going to
wait any longer. For $10,000.00 a year I can live in Costa Rica like a king. And like a King I
can have as many concubines as I desire. Those Latin girls really know how to swing their
hips. Ole!
***
Claim. Alaric, King of the Visigoths and responsible for the sack of Rome, went westward
because he wanted to expand his territories
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Ha ha ha! The fact is that the Visigoths fled westward because they were afraid of the Huns.
According to Priscus, a Roman historian, Alaric was terrified of Attila. Listen to this
conversation.
P: Thank you, Alaric for granting me this interview.
A: Youre welcome. You can ask me any questions you want
P: The rumor is that youre going to retire to a remote island. Is that true?
A: Well, right now Im thinking about
P: The Huns are spreading rapidly across all Europe. Is that why youre thinking in getting
the hell out of here?
A: Well, to tell you the truth is that God damned Attila.
P: Why, yes Ive heard all kinds of horror stories about him.
A: Youre damn right! This guy is totally insane. He likes to use his sword on people like
me. First he cuts your hands, then your feet and your ears and finally he drives the point of
his sword into your nostrils and pushes it all the way up unto your brain. Shit, I dont want to
die that way. Besides, Im getting old and want to retire to one of the Cyclades Island in
Greece. Is cheap and provides good wine, excellent fried fish, a superb salad, sweet baklavas,
and beautiful girls. Yes, sireee, thats for me. Dont you agree?
P: Can I go with you?
A: Sure. Anytime.
P: Time is of the essence. Lets go!
You know, Alaric was right. When you feel threatened do whats best for you. Thats why I
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always carry a .22 Beretta Bobcat pistol in my pocket. If I go to Orlando, Florida and a couple of
thugs attacked me, I just shoot the sobs in the head.
***
Claim. Charlemagne followed his Code of Chivalry to the dot
Ha ha ha! Charlemagnes Code of Chivalry stated that:
1. A Knight should fear God
2. A Knight should protect the weak
3. A Knight should live by honor and glory
4. A Knight should fight for the welfare of all
5. A Knight should always speak the truth
6. A Knight should never turn his back upon a foe
7. A Knight should never have illicit affair with women
8. A Knight should never marry
9. A Knight should never steal
10. A Knight should take good care of his horse
But Charlemagne had four concubines:
1. Gersuinda-one kid Adaltrude, ugly
2. Madelgard-one kid, Ruodhaid, fat
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3. Amalrud-one kid, Alpaida, moron

4. Himiltrude-two kids, Amaundru, an imbecile and Pippin the Hunchback
In addition Charlie had four wives:
1. Desiderata-she died of unexplained causes
2. Hildegard-nine children. Charles the Younger, deaf; Carloman, cross-eyed; Adalhaid , bald;
Rotrude, blind; Louis, gay ; Lothair, died in infancy; Bertha, lesbian; Gisela, whore;
Hildegarde, stupid
3. His third wife was Fastrada-two kids Theodorata, flat chested and Hiltrude, no ass
4. His fourth wife was Luitgard-childless
What a guy, what a guy! When confronted by his Knights concerning his behavior Charlie
scratch his groin and said: I am the King and the King is exempt of all rules. Besides is not my
fault. I secrete too much testosterone and I have to relief myself. Bring them on! I personally
think that I should have been a King because Im always horny.
***
Claim. Islam spread by the sword
Ha ha ha! That statement is a creation of western historians. Why, how about Christianity?
Remember the crusades? Pope Urban II, on November 27, 1095, gave a speech to convince the
people to go to war against Muslim and Greek Orthodox. Go to war, he screamed. Kill, kill
and kill. And dont worry; this is the will of God. He told me. Huh? Maybe you should know
more about Islam other than what youre told by the western media. Lets see.
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1. Islam means peace

2. Islam is built upon five pillars: (1) Have faith in Allah and in Muhammad (2) Pray five times
a day (3) Fasten in the month of Ramadan (4) ) Give money to the needy at the end of each
year (5) Pilgrimage to Mecca once if possible
3. Islam is open to all people regardless of color, creed or nationality
4. The Holy Quran has never been edited or changed thru the centuries
5. To alleviate the daily fight for survival Islam allows a man to have five wives
6. Today there are 1.57 billion adherents to Islam. Not bad, eh?
I studied both the Old and the New Testament and found out that they both have been changed
and edited so many times that now nobody knows who did what. Hey, brother, am I mute, blind
and deaf? And as far as having five wives, whats wrong with that? One does the cooking,
another does the cleaning, another does the shopping, another one does the laundry and another
does me. La,la,la.
***
Claim. The Vikings lived one thousand years without a bath
Ha ha ha! Not quite. The Vikings actually took a bath every Saturday morning after five days of
lovemaking. After that they got into their boats and sailed away to conquer new lands. They used
their axes to chop up arms, legs and torsos. And they sang their favorite song:
Here comes the gang,
Ready to bang,
One Ax in hand,
And two horns on mind
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A fearsome bunch they were. What was their secret? Why were so vicious? I was curious so
when I went to Cleveland, Ohio to visit my aunt I checked into The Cleveland Public Library
and dug into the Primary Sources of the Vikings life and customs. One anonymous source
claimed that the aggressive behavior of the Vikings was due to a red jam they use for breakfast.
It gave the red jam formula as follows:
Ten cherries
Two grams of flour
Two grams of sugar
And a pinch of fresh blood
I copied the formula down and as soon I got back home I made a cup of the red jam and had it
with my toast for a whole month. Result: My balls shrunk and got covered all up with a fuzzy
reddish hair so thick that I have to use an electric razor to take it all off. CACA! I threw the stupid
thing off and became a pacifist again.
***
Claim. The medieval church took good care of its people
Ha ha ha! Good care? Good care? Lets see.
The medieval church frighten the wits of the people by telling them the horrors of Hell every
week
The medieval church owned the land the peasants worked
The medieval church demanded 10% of what the people earned
The medieval church paid no taxes
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The medieval church kept a whorehouse exclusively for the priests

The medieval church grew very wealthy and powerful
How do you like that? I dont. Damn the Church, I said. Bunch of parasites and liars. Thats why
I invented my own religion: survival of the feisty
***
Claim. Beowulf was written for adults
Ha ha ha! Beowulf is actually a legend, an oral legend written by an unknown author who liked
to write tales for children. Just like King Arthur, Robin Hood, William Tell, Roland and El Cid.
All imaginary heroes who fought for honor and loyalty. Children love that. On top of that the
author creates a dragon. Swoosh, flip, flop, flame throwing, giant claws and hard to kill. Of
course the hero always carries a magic sword capable of cutting thru the concrete-like body of
the dragon. And also there always a beautiful lady who betrays the hero and gets away with her
revenge. The beautiful lady is the mother of the dragon. Huh? Anyway, who the hell read
Beowulf nowadays? Nobody. But, but some smart movie producer is going to use the latest
computer techniques to lure the kids into seen this fairy tale. Hey, movie producer, open my fly
and have some lunch. Shit!
***
Claim. El Cid, the Spanish hero of the Reconquista, defeated the Moors with his bare hands
Ha ha ha! Wrong version. Abbot Peter in 1207 is the author of the real version of El Poema del
Mio CID. He claims that the reason El Cid was so successful in his fight against the Moor was
his magic sword Colada. The weapon gave the Cids arms endless energy so he could go on for
days cutting heads without a moment rest. That together with his long black beard and his
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magnificent horse Babieca made him an awesome figure. The Moors just got terrified and ran the
hell away leaving the spoils and the girls behind. El Cid grabbed the riches and took a bunch of
girls to his house. But his wife, Jimena Diaz, didnt like having so much bed competition and
grabbed Colada and threw them out of the house. When El Cid complained, Ximena gave him a
good going over with Colada and he shut his mouth. Over the years El Cid became ill with
Parkinsons disease and started having tremors, rigidity, and loss of voice until he finally kicked
the bucket. His skeleton is in Burgos where silly people pray and bring flowers. Hey, fans of El
Cid, why pray to a skeleton? Bones are good for soup but for nothing else, got it?
***
Claim. Maimonides13 principles of faith was accepted right away by the Jewish medieval
community
Ha ha ha! Maimonides was a famous medieval Jewish philosopher, rabbi, and physician. His
fourteen-volume Mishneh Torah still carries canonical authority as a codification of Talmudic
law. In his commentary on the Mishneh Maimonides formulates his 13principles of faith as
follows:
1. The existence of God
2. Gods unity
3. God spirituality and incorporealitry
4. Gods eternity
5. God alone be the object of worship
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6. Revelation through Gods prophets

7. The preeminence of Moses among the prophets
8. Gods law given on Mount Sinai
9. The immutability of the Torah and Gods law
10. Gods foreknowledge of human actions
11. Reward of good and retribution of evil
12. The coming of the Jewish Messiah
13. The resurrection of the dead
But the Jewish community effectively ignored these principles for the next few centuries
according to Manachem Kellner in his Dogma in Medieval Jewish Thought. But now his
Principles are accepted by the Jewish community. I guess that time changes the way people
think. Take me for instance. I studied the Old Testament and found many holes in it like :
Joshua stopped the sun so that he could have more light to defeat his enemies. An optical
illusion, maybe?
Cains wife appeared all of a sudden. Just a printed mistake, huh?
And many others.
On the other hand:
If I need a doctor I want a Jewish doctor
If I need a lawyer I want a Jewish lawyer
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If I need a dentist I want a Jewish dentist

If I need a diamond I want a Jewish diamond trader
If I need an advice from a Congressman I want a Jewish congressman
If I need a movie producer I want t a Jewish producer
If I need a hot dog I want a kosher hot dog
Lets face it. Everybody wants a Jew on his side. There is something about these people. They
have the touch. Maybe they are the chosen people after all. I myself dont have any problems
accepting that Jews are being more intelligent than the rest of the population. As a matter of fact
my first girl friend was Jewish. Her name was Sarah and she was a wizard saving money and a
genius cooking kosher food. Unfortunately she insisted that I have to get circumcised before
getting married. I refused. One night we were kissing passionately and I got really excited. My
fly was up, she looked at it, got up and came back carrying a Circumcision Kit. Mt fly went
down and I ran the hell away from the scalpel. Yipes! My next girl friend was an Italian. O sole
mio.
***
Claim. The Knights Templar fought only for the glory of God
Ha ha ha! The Knights Templar was a religious Order during the Crusades. Well save the
world from the infidels they cried out. Their leader, Bernard de Clairvaux, in his De Laude
Nova Militae, wrote:
A Templar Knight is truly a fearless knight, and secure on every side, for his soul is protected
by the armor of faith, just as his body is protected by the armor of steel. He is thus doubly armed,
and need fear neither demons nor men. Vows of poverty and self-sacrifice followed. But that
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attitude didnt last long. Bernard didnt like to be poor so he started to lend money to the
pilgrims at 25% interest. Within six months he got a dispensation from Pope Innocent II and he
was able to increase the interest to 50% and split it with the Pope. They bought land, farms,
horses, cattle, and paid no taxes. Eventually the Order became so rich that they decided to go into
the banking business. Money poured in. The Pope was delighted. When Bernard died in battle
the Pope move all the money into the Vatican Bank and there it is growing by the day. Money,
money, money by the ton. Hey, brother, Im going to get me a Real Estate license from the
Vatican Bank and go to Latin America to sell time shares to the generals. Adios, suckers!
***
Claim. The cause of the Black Death of 1348 was caused by a misalignment of the first three
planets
Ha ha ha! The Paris Faculty of Medicine gave that explanation to the King of France and he, in
turn, passed on to the ignorant population. The fact is that the bubonic pest is caused by a
bacteria known as Yersinia pestis carried by a flea in the stomach of a rat. Classical symptoms
are: chills, high fever, buboes delirium, coma and death. The disease swept Europe and caused
the death of an estimated 75 million people. They had no antibiotics in those days so they just lay
on the streets and pray to God. Of course their prayers went ignored and they choked in their
own blood. Now we use antibiotics like tetracycline within the first 24 hours after the first
symptoms appear. But, but how do you get the medicine? Its a prescription item so you have to
see your doctor, right? Oh, yeah. Your friendly HMO physician is not available right away, or is
on his day off or hes in a cruise or in court fighting his wife. What do to do? Do what I do: Have
a couple of cats around your place.
***
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Claim. Giovanni Boccaccios Decameron conforms to the medieval ideas imposed by the
Catholic Church
Ha ha ha! Boccaccios work actually ushered in the Renaissance ideas with his presentation of
sex and natural instinct of man and woman. He shifted from a God-centered world into a mancentered world. Thats why in his first story the Renaissance man Masseto pretend to be a
gardener at a convent and had sex with all thirty nuns within a month. Woo! Nuns driven crazy
by the secretion of their ovaries. Its not their fault. My parents were concerned by my habits of
masturbating on a daily basis. But I was fifteen and couldnt help it. They took me to a doctor
who explained to them that adolescence is a period when the individual began to experience
stronger sexual feelings and worries. As you know, during the puberty age, there is a surge of
sexual hormones (testosterone in males and estrogens in females) that bring about an intense
desire to explore, to touch, to kiss, to suck, and to fornicate the opposite sex. Cool. At the same
time, preoccupations with the self set in. The concern teenager asks himself or herself Am I too
skinny? Too fat? Too tall? Too short? Too forward? Too shy? Too smart? Too stupid?
Naturally, all of these questions create a state of apprehension in his or her young mind. How
does he or she overcome his or her fears? By playing, thats how. Baseball, volleyball,
basketball, badminton, tennis, soccer, figure skating, football, golf, badminton, skiing,
swimming, sailing, you name it. A good and sound therapy. However, there are a few teens that
feel that the only sport that releases their anxieties is MASTURBATION. The more fears they
have, the more they masturbate. That seems to be my case. Nothing to worry about. There was
only one problem: I kept on jerking off for the rest of my life. Woooosh! Wooooosh. Ahhh!
Ahhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhah! Am I my crazy or something?
***
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Claim. Joan of Arc was a schizophrenic.

Ha ha ha! All she did was to assert that that she had visions from God instructing her to recover
her homeland from English domination late in the Hundred Years War between the House of
Valois and the House of the Plantagenet. Most people thought that she was a fraud and a
charlatan because she was a poor ignorant peasant who couldnt find a husband or a job. So she
decided to have visions just like Amos, Hosea, Isaiah, Zephaniah, Nahum and Habakkuk. She
said that the Archangel Michael ordered her to fight the freaking Britons until her death. And she
did and failed. She was burned at the stake at nineteen. Maybe we should burn at the podium all
the televangelist that had said that God came into their room and told them to collect money for
the Church. Well, I had vision too. I had a vision as to what horse was going to win the Kentucky
Derby 20-1. I put my lifetime savings on the pony and you know what? Im a poor bastard again.
***
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1500-2000
Claim The Renaissance began in Rome

Ha ha ha! The Renaissance began in Florence, and from there spread to the rest of Europe. It
literally means rebirth. The man from the Middle Ages broke away from the established norms
and became a man for all seasons. Francis Bacon declared, I have taken all knowledge to be my
province. The knowledge he was talking about can be summarized in the following guidelines:
The Renaissance keeps himself in good physical shape
The Renaissance man is versed in paintings
The Renaissance man is involved in politics
The Renaissance man likes to cook
The Renaissance man knows how to build a home
The Renaissance man is an expert in clothing
The Renaissance man reads a lot
The Renaissance man has a solid education
The Renaissance man likes horses
The Renaissance man is a wine drinker
The Renaissance man knows how to dance
The Renaissance man hates the Catholic Church
The Renaissance man is a skillful orator
The Renaissance man is a fan of Socrates, Plato and Aristotle
The Renaissance man knows how to make love in 12 different positions.
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Hey, brother, Im a Renaissance man myself and then some. Listen, I was once the manager of a
whorehouse in Vegas and the whores taught me how to make love in 60 different positions. I had
a couple of broken arms in the process but what the hell it was worth it
***
Claim. The numbers and letters inside the eyes of Mona Lisa are Leonardos birthday
Ha ha ha! So what? Whats so important about that? You have to use a special digital
sophisticated magnifying microscope to see them. A real pain. What people want to know is
whats behind that enigmatic smile. Was that Leonardo himself? Was that Leonardos mother?
What that his mistress? What that his wife? The smile certainly seems to say, Is that all you got,
my husband? At any rate, the mystery is anybodys guess. Italian historian Silvano Vinceti
believes that the model for Mona Lisa was Gian Giacomo Caprotti a painter who worked with
Leonardo for many years. That reminds me of the time when I tried to sell my version of Mona
Lisa in Yankee Stadium. I painted the Mona completely naked and eating a hot dog with
everything on. It made my day. How do you like that?
***
Claim. Copernicus was only a mathematician
Ha ha ha! He was a mathematician, astronomer, physician, classical scholar, translator, artist,
jurist, governor, military leader, diplomat and economist. Above all he is mostly known for his
heliocentric cosmology, which place the sun at the center of the universe, and not the Earth like
the Church had claimed for centuries. Indeed the Medieval Church had a complete control over
the ignorant peasants and set up the following rules:
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Pay 10% of all earnings to secure a place in Heaven
Give two horses every year to save your soul
Donate your house if you skip Sunday mass
Bestow your corn field if you disobey your priest
Go to hell if you practice Judaism
Leave your estate to the angels
Bequeath all your money to your Church
Of course the Church grew richer and richer and the peasantry grew poorer and poorer. In
addition the Church paid no taxes. They had it made. Thats why they oppose Lutheranism and
oppose Copernicus heliocentric cosmology. In fact they oppose anything that contradicted the
Catholic Church dogma. They said, Close your eyes, son, have faith, give money and youll be
saved from the heat of Hell. Amen. What a racket! Today is no different. They keep on milking
the population for money and more money and more money. Thats why when I go inside a
church I throw stinking cherry bombs at the priest and then run away. Amen.
***
Claim. Michelangelos David is flawless except for his left eye that seemed to be looking the
other way
Ha ha ha! The explanation is very simple, you chum. Michelangelo found out that David had
suffered a fall and had his oculomotor cranial nerve hurt. Result: the lack of innervation to the
left eye muscle resulted in a change of eye position. Its called strabismus if you care to know.
Michelangelo was trying to be as thorough as he could possible be. And he did. And taking about
eyes that reminds me of Priscilla Borden one of my high school classmates. She came after me
and beg me to take her to the drive-in movies. I finally accepted her invitation. As soon as the
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movie started she jumped on me and started kissing me passionately. I put my tongue inside her
mouth and she moaned. When I opened my eyes I realized that she was kissing me with her eyes
wide open. What the hell!
***
Claim. The Spanish Inquisition found Vesalius guilty of stealing cadavers, dissecting them and
killing the soul living inside the heart
Ha ha ha! Vesalius proved that the soul was only a myth created by the church. There is no
soul, he said, digging into one stinking body. Only bones, articulations, muscles, organs water
and blood. When you die the worms inside your belly will clean you to the bones. And the bones
harbor no freaking soul. Torquemada, The Great Inquisitor was furious and ordered Vesalius to
be burned at the stake. Fortunately the King intervened and saved Vesalius from smoke
inhalations. As for me yes I believe in soul. Food soul that is. Give me fat back, fried chicken,
ham hocks, hog jowl, hog maw, offal and ox tails all washed down with a bottle of rum. Oh
yeah.
***
Claim. Martin Luther put an end to the corruption of the Medieval Catholic Church
Ha ha ha! Luther was my favorite man. He had big balls like me. He was a free thinker like me.
He broke away from the conventional modes and more just like me. Lets see what he stood for:
1. He disputed that the salvation of the soul could be bought with money
2. He challenged Pope Leo X and stood for his belief
3. When he was excommunicated by the Pope he gave him the finger
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4. He married to Katharina von Bora and set up an example for the practice of clerical
marriage
5. He said that priests were not needed to explain the Bible
How do you like that? A real crusader against the corrupted Catholic Church. Too bad those
things have not worked the way he intended. The money the Catholic Church collected over the
centuries ended up in the vaults of the Vatican Bank. This is no ordinary bank, no sireeeee. The
Bank has been implicated for laundering money, murder and strong links to the Mafia. The Pope,
of course, had denied such allegation by saying is all a misunderstanding. Thats what one of
my Italian girl friends told me when I discovered that she had been cheating on me. I cut all her
hair with a scissors and then use my electric razor to finish the job. La Donna e Mobile.
***
Claim. King Henry VIII was just a horny guy

Ha ha ha! There have been many controversies about Henry odd behavior but nobody had come
out with a clear answer. Did he have a double personality? Many historians think so but other
differ about his bizarre behavior. Tell you what I found out. When I was in college one of my
multiple lovers was a Psychology graduate student named Margaret Chadwick. She was from
England and was plain looking but had a tremendous ass, my favorite part of the body. She was
writing her thesis on King Henry VIII twisted personality and this particular night she told me
that she had finished her research and wanted me to hear what she had found out. I told her to go
ahead. Sha said that Henrys uncontrollable sexual drive was caused by Mc Leod syndrome, a
genetic disorder that affect the pituitary gland responsible for the production of sperm. Henry
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just had an overproduction of sperm and had a hard-on day and night. Thats why he was always
horny, had eight wives and a nasty habit of masturbating in fron of the court. Bring them on he
used to say. Finally his penis quit and he died of mental deterioration yelling, Im the gratest
fucker that ever lived, goddamned! Margaret started crying and I said Dont you worry,
Maggie, I too suffer from McLeod syndrome. You can help me by given me a massage on my
hard-on. Yeah, like that. Long live the King, I yelled and then Ah, Ahh, Ahhhhh,
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Case closed.
***
Claim. Nostradamus wrote only one book, Les Propheties
Ha ha ha! Nostradamus was basically an astronomer and as such he wrote several books dealing
with the celestial bodies. As a matter of facts I found a book in the Ohio State Library entitled
Astrology et le amour. Nostradamus wrote this book in the 16th century and in it he predicted the
love life of girls living in the 21st century. Pay attention, love-starving girls.
Aquarius (January 20 to February 18)
Au grand fiege encore grands forfeis,
Tremblant de peur fe demande,
Par le guerdon lagrandais,
Tout proche de gaudand sabe.
Translation: Girls born under this sign and who are tall and blonde will have more fun with
short, dark strangers.
Pisces (February 19-March 20)
Au six cents fa peine memoire,
La fille et quelque saboit,
Tiendra par grande moir,
Celuiq qui la mieux lavosoit.
Translation: Girls born under this sign and who suffer from frequent headaches and or earaches
will be frigid and thats all there is. Tough luck.
Aries (March 21 to April 19)
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Bientot cest lanniversary de votre pere,

Quelle sorte de vetements mettez vous,
Tres volez trouver un cadeau tere,
Demain je veux visiter les taboo.
Translation: Girls born under this sign and who like to look at the stars will find sexual
satisfaction only when its raining.
Taurus (April 20 to May 20)
Je vais aux demain voucoup pas matin
Je ne sais pas encore vous allez acheter,
Je choisirai une autre chemise tontin,
Je deteste gaspillier mon meter.
Translation: Girls born under this sign and who are cross-eyed will have sexual satisfaction only
with a cross-eyed optician.
Gemini (May 21 to June 21)
Quelque chose pour sa chamber solution,
Pourquoi decide gravure taille combien,
Je suis en retard parce grandon,
Ill me dit que son chez travaille tambien.
Translation: Girls born under this sign and who like to smoke pot will enjoy sex only with more
than two partners.
Cancer (June 22 to July 22)
Vous pouvez compter sur ce virus cela,
Ton mari au seriux crains regrette,
Nous nouns soyons retarde pela,
Vous mesurez les rideaux toiletre.
Translation: Girls born under this sign and who have no money will find sexual gratification only
with a sugar daddy.
Leo (July 23 to August 22)
Sans doute la verite raison,
Ill reste sortir trois bavarder,
Lles hommes voir dit courage traicion,
Elle sort du sortons comprender.
Translation: Girls born under this sign and who are very intelligent and very inquisitive will not
have any sexever.
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Virgo (August 23 to September 22)

Prenez-vous le partie pied,
Faites-vous le metro parisien,
Devez-vous partir a la sed.
Quelle sorte de jus le cien.
Translation: Girls under this sign and who have an excess of estrogens will find sexual
gratification only in a whorehouse.
Libra (September 23 to October 22)
En quoi consiste le franglais petit,
Comment prepare de suite fraises,
Nous chantons depuis deux venid,
Voici la distribution de la fricases.
Translation: Girls born under this sign and who suffer from genu varum (bowleg) will be
sexually happy only with boys who suffer from genu valgum (straight legs)
Scorpio (October 23 to November 21)
Ill ma dit de le laisser critique,
Ill a decide de ne pas part,
Les enfants posent plus de elque,
Nous lutons contre le faut tart.
Translation: Girls born under this sign and who are extremely ugly will get sexual enjoyment
only with their plastic surgeons.
Sagittarius (November 22 to December 21)
La valisse est arrive avion,
Le taxi rentre au garage caf,
Je plais a nos envoye cojon,
Je sais que vous preparez merde.
Translation: Girls born under this sign and who are albinos will enjoy sex only with boys
walking in a cloud.
Capricorn (December 22 to January 19)
Le boyato est ruffian e ladron,
Les filles cest sibon e fickly,
Je voule vou la ceson e la cichon,
Noutra amies la sifel e la trickly.
Translation: Girls born under this sign and who are fat will have sex only with a very skinny guy.
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There you have it. Use it properly and your love life will be better, much better. And if youre
not satisfied, change your sex.
***
Claim. Machiavelli was a renaissance man, a gentleman for all occasions
Ha ha ha! Nicolo Machiavelli was a crafty man who taught the rulers of his time how to cheat
and deceit the people. In his masterpiece The Prince he outlines his rules to follow:
The means justify the ends
Never tell the truth
Do not trust your mother
Borrow money but never pay back
Always carry a knife under your sleeve
Pretend you care about others
Change doctors every week
Put your money in a off shore island
Bring your own bottle to the Kings parties
Never marry a poor girl
Be ready to discredit your enemies
Do not have childrenthey will turn against you
And above allDo not believe in any God
Do all of these and youll be rich and powerful. Isnt that what you want to be?
***
Claim. The Spanish Conquistadores were a bunch of caballeros
Ha ha ha! Cortes, Pizarro, Orellana, Velzquez, Almagro and the rest of those bastards were
37
anything but gentlemen. They kill, maimed, massacred and exterminated some 20,000,000
Indians throughout Latin America. All in the name of God. They used Toledo swords to run thru
the poor noble savages; they use guns to shoot the children; they use knives to cut ears, fingers
and hands; they use dogs to dismember pregnant women; they use horses to stomp the old; they
use chains to strangle the teens; they use fire to burn the rebels; they use stakes to disembowel
the Chief. Thats how the black legend originated. Murderers and thieves. They trick the Indians
by telling them that the horses ate gold. And that the dogs ate silver. And they took all the loot
back home, went to church and were pardoned for all their sins. How do you like that? Stinking
world! I visited Madrid during a summer vacation and was taken aback by the philosophy of
todays Spaniards. They made assertions like:
In the Spanish Empire the sun never set. Were proud of that.
We impose our language in Latin America. Too bad they dont know how to speak Castilian.
The reason the South American are stupid is because they tinted our blood with that of the
Indians and the blacks.
Mexicans admire the Americans and want to adopt their life-style. Haha! The Americans dont
know how to speak English; they dont know how to dress; they dont know how to eat and they
dont know how to drink. Bunch of cowboys!
We, on the other hand, are sophisticated,
intelligent, and clever. And proud of our heritage.
My reply was: Yes, youre proud but youre full of
poop. Imbeciles!
***
Claim. Peter the Great never tax his people
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Ha ha ha! Peter I the Great came to power in 1682 and immediately realized that Russia was a
poor, backward country. He and his half-brother Ivan V drew an ambitious economic plan to
modernize Russia. They wanted to create schools for the military officers, to take over the power
of the church, to educate the ignorant peasants and to expand Russias territory. To do that they
needed lot of money and the money had to come from the citizens. So they decided to put a tax
on the bearded peasants and a tax on the obese women. Barbers walked the streets of Saint
Petersburg picking on the barbudos, shaving them on the spots and collecting taxes in the
process. When they complained the barbers shaved their ass too. The obese women had to pay
taxes too. Any woman over 165 pounds have to pay a tax on the excess fat. Naturally the people
revolt but Peter explained that the country was going thru a deep recession and he had to find a
way to balance the budget. The people shut the freak up. Sounds a bell?
***
Claim. Anne Hathaway married William Shakespeare when she was eighteen
Ha ha ha! Hey, stupid historian, you got it all wrong. He was eighteen and Anne twenty-six. And
she was already six-months pregnant. William was full of energy and testosterone and his dick
was always stiff so he couldnt help himself and got her gravid. After that he didnt want to get
married and wanted to get away but Annes father took out a double barrel shotgun, aimed to
Bills dick and that was that. Shakespeare never loved his wife and in his will he bequeathed her
only second-best bed with the furniture. Whatever that meant. My guess is that she wasnt as
good in bed as he expected. Remember that Anne was a peasant girl afraid of having sex naked
and with the fire on. Silly girl. I had a girl like that. Her name was Vivola and after I spent a
couple of hundred dollars in wine and duck she refused to have sex with the lights on. I knocked
her out and only then she accepted to have sex doggy style. Cojones!
39
***
Claim. Don Quixote was a crazy sob
Ha ha ha! Miguel de Cervantes wrote Don Quijote, Part 1, in 1605 and was and is considered to
be the first modern novel. Everybody has heard of Don Quix but very few have actually read it.
Anyway Don Quix represents an idealistic man, a man who defies all the rational and logical
behavior in order to achieve his quest. Which brings me to the point: is a man supposed to follow
the herd or is he supposed to stand up to his principles and fight all the established conventions?
If you follow the herd youll get a paycheck, a mortgage, an unpaid car, hot water, a 62 TV set,
a cell phone, central air, a dish washer, a micro, an electric range, three brats, sex once a week, a
pot belly, diabetes 2, high blood pressure, coronary artery disease, and then you go bankrupt and
is all gooooone. Go to grandmas house to live and then regret your dreams of childhood. Where
did the years go? I could have been a writer and live up to my ideals. But I was thinking on what
the neighbors might say. Idiot! The neighbors dont give a damn whether you live or die.
Anyway is too late now. Freaking life!
***
Claim. Isaac Newton was only an alchemist.
Ha ha ha! Isaac Newton was the foremost scientist of the Scientific Revolution of the XVII
century. He worked in the fields of physics, mathematics, astronomy, natural philosophy and
Christian theology. A real genius. But he also wanted to be rich and to live forever. To that effect
he worked day and night in his lab until he came up with an alchemy book entitled The
Philosopher Stone in which he claimed to have found a chemical process to change lead into
gold and also to have found a chemical procedure to turn water into an elixir of life, a panacea to
beat old age. Well, he never got to turn lead into gold but he did mix water with his own blood, a
rare AB+ type. Result: his nose kept on growing, his penis shrunk, his hair disappeared, his front
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teeth dropped, his skin grew warts and his kidneys failed. He died at age 85 of urinary
incontinence and in his epithet he wrote: Ill be damned. It didnt work after all
As for me, when I find a girl who wants to fuck my brains out, I make sure her blood type is not
AB+.
***
Claim. Marie Antoinette, Queen of France, was not an adulterous woman
Ha ha ha! Not quite. She was an Austrian Princes who married Louis XVI when she was only 15.
From the very beginning the marriage was a farce. He didnt like sex and she was a sexual
maniac. How did she satisfy her craving? Count Axel von Fersen. He was a dashing young
prince who had a reputation for being a womanizer. Marie fell in love with him and the two
began a torrid love affair. When he was out of town she wrote to hin love letters in a special code
known only to the two of them. Many years after they cut her head specialists known as
cryptologists were able to translate some of the leters found in Fersens home. One of the letters
went like this:
Oh, my dearest how much I miss you. I adore your body and wish you were here to slap me, to
kick me, to break my nose, to bit my lips, to smack my ears, and to pull my hair. Come back
soon so you can make me happy. I will always love you until my death.
Josephine
Secret code? Yes, I believe it. I bought a German Enigma machine and used my secret code to
get money out of the ATM machines around town. See here,
x-p-t-rs-gs-s-q-i-k-l-n-o-w-oo-ty-gaga-bullshotxxxaarb-f-d-s-l-v-h-aa-$25,000 now!
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Translation. Fersen era un sadista y un bohemio. Give me cash or Ill brak yor ass. Give me
$25,000. Now!
And the money poured out. Tralala,la,la.
***
Claim. Jacques Louis David was the leader of the Romantic school
Ha ha ha! David was the personification of the neoclassic movement of the Age of Reason. His
paintings were cool, rational, classic, and above all, very well balance. His masterpieces included
the Oath of the Horatti, The Death of Marat and The Death of Socrates. What you make call a
geek. However, actually the leader of the Romantic school was Eugene Delacroix, not David.
His masterpiece Liberty Leading the People is considered to be the marker to the end of the Age
of Reason. Emotion, rage, freedom, fury, anger, wrath and above all a sense of being an
emotional human being, a man who can be tender and an ax killer at the same time. Thats me. I
can sing romantic songs in Spanish to my girl friend but I can also punch her on her false teeth.
Pow, pow, pow. How sweet it is.
***
Claim. Aaron Burr Jr fired first on his duel with Hamilton
Ha ha ha! According to Burrs second, William P Van Ness, was Hamilton who fired the first
shot. The projectile hit the tree above Burrs head and then Burr shot Hamilton thru his abdomen,
piecing his liver and crushing his spine. He died the next day. Van Ness said that the reason
Hamilton fired first was because he suffered from Writers wrist, a condition that cause an
involuntary jerky movement of the fingers. Hey, pal, I understand that. As a matter of fact I had a
duel when I was a senior in college with my hook-up Scarlet. A verbal duel. It went like this:
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S: Where do you think youre going?

Me: Im getting out of this housefor good
S: Wait a second. How about me? You owe me.
Me: I owe you nothing but insults and harsh words. Youre a brat!
S: And youre a jerk! After all I come from a distinguish family from Atlanta. But you, you are
nothing but a low class trash. A nobody!
Me: Youre still living in the past. Those days are long gone. The fact is that you never work in
your life. Daddy paid for everything you have. Besides youre an overweight monster. Look at
your abdomen. A big spare tire. Jesus!
S: How about you? Your feet smell like rotten eggs. Horrible! Let me tell you something. I
never had an orgasm with you. I faked them all. Hahahahahh! Youre not big enough for my
vagina
Me: But Im big enough for your mouth, remember? Hahahahah! But now, Im bored with you.
The same dish every night. And your constant talk, talk and talk. Silly, irrelevant household
details. Who cares if the dishes are cracked? Buy new ones, thats all. Anyway, Im leaving you.
And thats final
S: Before you go I want to tell you that I really love you. You were my first love and Ill always
remember you. My love
Me: Haha. Cheap psychology wont help you. I know that you were having an affair with my
best friend Cesar. He told me so. Bitch!
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S: Right, right. Cesar brought me flowers and chocolates and records. So romantic. You kept on
watching the late show and then fell asleep on the couch. I need a lot of attention. I suffer from
terrible migraines. Have a heart and stay with me.
Me: Frankly, Scarlet, I dont give a fuck about your health. I want my freedom and a new
younger, healthy girl. Bye
S: Asshole! Go to hell! Im going to my mothers house. Shit!
And that was the end of my duel. Hey brother, hook-ups are okay as long as shes paying.
***
Claim. Freuds Interpretation of dreams is nothing but the skin of a bologna.
Ha ha ha! I read the book and agreed with him when he stated that dreams are a form of wish
fulfillment. The book was long so I only read half of it and then fell asleep. But it wasnt my
night. I dreamed that I was on a cruise around the world when, all of a sudden, the pretty ship hit
an iceberg and went down within seconds. Everybody drowned but me. I held onto a piece of
wood that just happens to pop up by my side and drifted all night. The next day I found myself
on a desert island surrounded by hundreds of blond people. They were amazed at my dark
complexion and they all wanted to touch my charcoal black pubic hair. They carried me to a big
hut and gave me food and water. I ate, drank and slept for two days. On the third day, the chief,
accompanied by a young blond girl, came to see me. We talked. Like this.
Chief: Asolfo, putamen, curdai, he said, pushing her toward me. Asardoko, coitar! And left.
I made love to her for two days and two nights. She didnt know anything about the mechanics
of love, so I had a great time teaching her how to move her hips and how to move her lips. Wow!
Wow!
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The next day the chief came back with another girl.
Chief: Bangano, bangano, bellota, coitar, ara so? he asked, pushing the girl over my side.
I: Just a moment, Chief, I said. Im a little tired, so come back another day, and I pushed the
girl toward him.
Chief: Godamo, burdano, coitar! he screamed.
I: Okay, okay, Chief. No need to get excited. Ill see what I can do. I forced myself and made
love to the young girl who turned out to be a sucker. Jeez.
The next day, the Chief came back with another young blond girl. I told him, Hey, Chief, are
you crazy or what? No can do.
Chief: Nomea, cabron, domenta, cagon, coitar, coitar, coitar, and coitar. And drew out his
machete.
I: Dont you understand, Chief? Look! My penis is out of order, see?
Chief: Mecago, sonbitchi, coitar! he demanded.
I: There you go again, I screamed. Can you people speak English?
He pushed me to the ground, put his foot in my mouth, grabbed my penis, stretched it out and cut
it in half. Blood gushed out like water from a hydrant. I screamed and screamed and screamed,
until I woke up. Holy cow! I was soaked and wet with perspiration and my couch was in
complete disarray. I jumped out and took a quick look at my penis. Yes, yes, yes, it was there,
intact and standing tall. I ran to the bathroom, discharged my full bladder, ran back to my couch
and jumped into it. Tumadre, sonbitchi, asshole! I yelled out, and fell asleep presto, a smile on
my face and a pillow over my dick, just in case. Meaning of the dream? Ask Freud. Hehehe.
***
Claim. Marxs notes were only about economic theory
45
Ha ha ha! When Frederic Engels published his memoirs he claimed that Marx had written some
advice on how to find the right mate. Engels was very shy with women and wanted to know
Karls theory on that matter. Here is Marx advice:
1. Always kiss and hug her
2. Always compliment her shoes
3. Always talk in a soft voice
4. Always walk her to a park
5. Always listen to her problems
6. Always offer the opposite of what she has
7. Always caress her breasts
8. Always whisper romantic words into her ears
9. Always undress her piece by piece
10. Always put your penis into her vagina very slowly
And there you have her.
***
Claim. Don Juan was written by Lord Byron
Ha ha ha! Actually Don Juan was written in 1630 by Tirso de Molina a Spaniard play writer. As
you probably know Don Juan is synonym of a guy who seduces women, and then bang, bang and
thank you mama. Another Spanish author, Jardiel Espronceda, wrote a different version of Don
Juan. In this twenty century version Don Juan is not a man but an ugly woman by the name of
Juanita Grasshopper. Shes so ugly that men ran away from her. So, where did she get her share
of men? She tells us where and how:
I know Im ugly and thats why guys avoided me like the plague and as a result I never
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knew what a good fuck was. However luck was on my side. One day I was surfing the Internet
Archive when I came across an article about Club dei Brutti or The World Association of Ugly
men with headquarters in the small town of Piobbico, Italy. The Club emphasized the value of
ugliness over beauty and invited ugly people to visit the town for a weekend of fuck, I mean, fun.
I immediately booked a trip to Piobbico and sure enough as soon as I arrived I was surrounded
by ugly, horny guys who waited in line to have a piece of me. Wow! I had seven guys entering
every orifice in my body. I had seven orgasms one after the other. That experience was repeated
the next day. I was left with bruises all over my body including a black eye but I was so satisfied
that I didnt care. Since that lucky day I visit Piobbico every month for another going over. In
fact Im due this weekend. Im on my 153 men. So, when you feel the urge to have intercourse,
go to Piobbico and get laid. Those ugly guys can give you all the oral, anal and vaginal sex that
you crave. Remember ugly sisters: Ugliness is a virtue, beauty is slavery.
***
Claim. Goyas model for his Naked Maja was the Duchess of Alba
Ha ha ha! In his biography Principe de la Paz Spain Prime Minister Godoy revealed that the
model for Goyas famous painting was his mistress Pepita Tudo. So whats new? It seems that
people with government power like to have a spare pussy on the side. Garfield, Harding,
Roosevelt, Eisenhower, Johnson and Clinton just to name a few all had a roving eye on young
hot chicks. Hey, monogamous bunch, if you get tired of fish, get a rare Delmonico. Get it? Fish
out meat in. Hahahahaahah!
An irate reader: You think youre funny? Well, let me tell you moron. Im sick and tired of your
stupid sense of humor. Why dont you become a politician once and for all? They really make
me laugh.
47
Signed, Fidel.
***
Claim. Hawthornes Scarlet Letter was a beautiful romance story
Ha ha ha! The Letter wasnt s a regular letter but instead was a red A letter embroidered on the
cloth of one Hester Prynne, a symbol of adultery. Why? Because Hester had a baby while in jail
and while her husband was traveling through Europe. As it turned out the father of the baby was
a priest. A goddamn priest named Father Thomas. He got excited over her big bosom and wanted
to suck her nipples. She let him and he traveled from her tits to her tut. Drill, drill, drill and then
a baby was born. She got out of jail with the baby and the symbol of adultery. Father Thomas
was moved to Ireland where he continued his activities with teenage boys. The Pope shrugged
and said, It must be the bread. Yeap, our bread is fortified with minerals vitamins and a sprinkle
of testosterone. I guess I have to change brand. God bless. Son of a bitch!
***
Claim. Louis Moses Rose fought valiantly in the battle of El Alamo
Ha ha ha! Rose was a butcher from Nacogdoches and a very good friend of James Bowie. They
both decided to fight the Mexican Army and joined Crockett, Travis and the other 150 Texans.
When the tough got tougher Rose realized that that it was better to slaughter pigs than to be
slaughtered so he climbed the wall and ran away. He was the inspiration of an anonymous song
entitled, Moses Rose of Texas that goes like this;
Hes Moses Rose of Texas,
And today nobody knows,
He the one who left the Alamo,
The night before the foe,
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Came storming in up the walls,

And slaughter the man inside,
But Moses Rose of Texas
Is the one who never died.
So hes called the The Coward of el Alamo.
Well, he live to be a hundred, never got married, had 12 illegitimate children, and got rich selling
pork chops. What a guy, what a guy! I think that Im going to become a draft dodger, buy a farm
and raise pigs for a living. Hey, generals, kiss my piggy ass!
***
Claim. Gustave Flauvert novel Madame Bovary is as popular today as it was before
Ha ha ha! The main character in the novel is one Emma Bovary, a bored, frustrated woman who
read too many romance novels and tried to live and die accordingly. Siliy, silly, silly. Today
shed be a pathetic figure with her small town mentality and her rigid xix century mores and
modes. Times have changed and so have the modern girls. They go to bars, drink from the bottle
and get laid every weekend. They take the pill, smoke marihuana, inject coke into their veins,
have oral, anal and vaginal sex, hook-up with strangers, and become CEOs of large
corporations. Wow! Thats how I found out. Every Friday night I went to a different bar and
picked a pretty girl with big boobs and rounded ass. It was easy. All I had to do was to lie
shamelessly. I told them that I was running for congress and was looking for my ideal wife. They
all took the bait and gave me all the free sex I craved. After that I cried a bit and told them that I
was planning on running for congress as soon as I turned 60 years old. They got dressed in a
hurry, gave me the finger and left screaming obscenities. I laughed my head off and felt asleep
with my dick still dripping.
49
***
Claim. Darwins Origin of the species is a farfetched idea on the origin of life
Ha ha ha! The origin of life was not what Darwin was talking about. It has already been
established that water is the origin of life. What Darwin was talking about was the evolution of
man. Look at the Cro-Magnon man, the Australopithecus man, the Neanderthal man, and the
Homo sapiens sapiens man. You can clearly see that they all have suffered a tremendous
physical transformation. Evidence: FOSSILS! Go to a museum and see these guys changing over
the years. Case closed. Of course sometimes youll meet a girl who looked like an
Australopithecus. Thats what happened to me when I was broke and about to quit college. I met
Poppy in the college cafeteria. She sat in front of me and right away I saw how ugly she was. I
mean UUUUHGGGGLYYYYY! But her last name was Sewell the king of hardware stores.
Money galore you know. So I pretend I like her and pretty soon we were having great sex. I
fucked her brains out and in exchange she paid for my last semester. Then I took a train and
settled down in Frisco. How could I have sex with such an ugly creature? Easy. I put a brown
bag over her head and gang away! Heheheheh. In this ugly life is okay to fuck an ugly girl.
***
Claim. The Picture of Dorian Gray was Wildes masterpiece.
Ha ha ha! Whats so great about a bunch of rich parasites that had nothing better to do but to go
around having a good time drinking cherry and having sex with girls of dubious reputation? And
on top of that Dorian got his wish of eternal youth. What a piece of crock! Of course the piece of
resistant was the horrible transformation suffered by the painting every time Dorian did a bad
deed. It scares the hell out of kids under the age of twelve. Picassos Dora Maar au Chat is
uglier and more horrible and yet it doesnt scare anybody. And the master of cubism had far
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more whores than Dorian. Thats why when I was working as a reporter I interviewed the eighty
years old painter at his house in Barcelona and asked about his sex life.
I: Tell me, how many girls have you had in your life?
P: I lost count
I: How do you keep in such good shape?
P: I drink a lot of red Rioja wine and eat plenty of Manchego cheese.
I: I guess thats what gives you so much energy. Tell me what happened with your first lover
Fernande Olivier?
P: She was too prudish. All the lights on or no sex. Besides her breasts were too small for my
mouth.
I: How about Eva Gouel
P: Eva never shaved her legs and gave me a rash on my back.
I: Gaby Depeyre?
P: Gabby liked to read very long and boring books in a loud voice before having intercourse.
Books like War and Peace, The Three Musketeers, and the Bible.
I: Why did you marry Olga Khokhlova?
P: Because she practiced the Kama Sutra to the dot. Too bad that she drank too much vodka and
was drunk most of the time.
I: Your most famous painting is Dora Maar du Chat. In that painting she looked like shit. How
come
you
painted
her
with
two
heads?
P: It looks like two heads but is only one. I like to paint with my right hand first and when I got
tired I use my left hand. Of course my left hand is always trembling and thats why all my
paintings looked like fucking monster.
51
I: But was she good in bed?

P: Number one. She did oral, anal and vaginal sex. But she got old and ugly and I got tired of
her act and started collecting innocent teens. Now I do one teen every other day.
I: Thanks, Picasso. Uh-oh somebody is knocking at your door.
P: Oh, yeah. Thats Hildegarde the German virgin. Im to paint her on the nude and then
deflower her. Good bye.
I: See you. And have a good session. Adios.
***
Claim. Lenin died of a stroke
Ha ha ha! When I was taking Political Science 302 I met Alexandra Ivanovich. She was a fervent
admirer of Lenin and told me that I resembled Lenin except for my abundant hair. Needless to
say I immediately started looking at her well-formed legs, her 16 inches waist, her grenade-like
tits, her long, twisted black hair and her sensuous mouth. She noticed my interest on her and
invited me to her apartment for a drink of vodka, some caviar from Beluga and a dish of sieved
egg yolks. I accepted and was in her place by 9:00 pm that night. We shared her meal and then
sat down on her couch to sip a bottle of Stalinoska vodka. We talked. Like this.
I: I find Lenins ideas quite unacceptable. The notion that workers will own the means of
production is crazy. The workers dont know how to manage the big corporations or the food
factories. No, theyre not educated enough.
A: But they can learn on the job training. No big deal. Just put the employers to work.
I: He said that History is nothing but a struggle between people and money. I said that History
is nothing but a struggle between Kings and the Church. It wasnt money it was POWER,
fucking POWER. And talking about fucking I have a humongous hard-on by just looking at your
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legs. Lets have a bout of sex, Russian style. What do you say, huh?
A: Sex? Havent you heard of Lenins glass water theory?
I: No. What is it?
A: He said that sex is as unimportant as drinking a glass of water. Therefore you can do without
sex. Sex is only for the bourgeoisie. You follow?
I: I do, I do. But his action betrayed his saying. He used to go every week end to a Russian
whorehouse located on Tverskaya district and it was there where he caught syphilis from a
prostitute. He died in 1924 of tertiary syphilis. A retired Russian professor told me in the plane I
was traveling from Moscow to New York.
A: Tertiary syphilis? Tell me more about syphilis.
I: Well, syphilis is a STD or a sexually transmitted disease caused by a bacterium called
Treponema pallidum. The infection goes thru three stages. In the first stage the infected person
shows a single chancre; in the second stage a rash covers his hands and his feet and the tertiary
stage his brain is affected. Thats why Lenin became incoherent in his last years and finally died.
How do you like that?
A: I dont. But he died because in those years they didnt have antibiotics. Nowadays is no
problem. Look at me. I have syphilis stage one. But dont worry. Im taking three shots of
penicillin every day. See? And she pulled her skirt up and showed me her chancre. It has
almost disappeared.
I: Yeah, It looks okay. Why dont you go into your bedroom and get into something more
comfortable. Know what I mean?
A: Back in a flash! And she ran into her bedroom.
I ran out the door and made it home. The next day I
53
dropped the course and add History 265:

Tutankhamens secret life. Now my girl friend is Nefertiti Gonzalez a marihuana addict who
likes to have sex under the covers and with the lights off. Its okay except that I sometimes cant
find the right hole. La,la la.
***
Claim. Rasputin was a saint and a healer who helped Alexei Nikolayevich, the only son of the
Tsar of Russia Nicholas II, to control his tendency to bleed to death.
Ha ha ha! Rasputin was a scoundrel who used his gift of persuasion to fool the royal family and
to convince the Russian Tsarina Aleksandra that only him could give her a second son free from
hemophilia. She became his lover and then he practically took over all of Russia. The Tsar
Nicholas II was so afraid of Rasputin that he moved into another bedroom. The peasants
despised Rasputin and they finally killed him when he was only forty-seven years old. That
brings to my mind the televangelists of today. They shamelessly claim to cure cancer patients for
a seed of $2,000.00. What a bunch of liars!
***
Claim. DH Lawrence was a well-adjusted man who loved modern life, women, young men and
babies.
Ha ha ha! DH Laurence was a thin, fragile, bitter, socialist sick man who didnt fit into his world.
Take a look at his
A tale told by an idiot
Modern life is a tale told by an idiot;
Flat-chested, crop-headed, chemicalised women, of indeterminate sex,
And wimbly-wambly young men, of sex still more indeterminate,
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And hygienic babies in huge hulks of coffin-like perambulatorsThe great social idiot, it must be confessed,
Tells dull, meaningless, disgusting tales,
And repeats himself like the flushing of a W.C.
Thats it, the real DH. Always looking for the ideal place to live in. He travels thru Italy,
Germany, Ceylon, Australia, New Zealand, Tahiti, French Riviera, Mexico and the USA, always
unsatisfied, always bitching about the bourgeois class. He never held a full-time job and his wife
Frieda supported him throughout his short life. He died of TB at age 44.
***
Claim. General Westmoreland was a genius strategist who was vilified by the media for no
reason
Ha ha ha! During the Vietnam War I was assigned to interview the General in his luxury
mansion in Washington. They gave me the job on account that the main war correspondent had
committed suicide. The conversation went like this:
I: Who starts wars? The military?
W: The military dont start wars. Politicians start wars
I: The media is tearing you to pieces. What do you have to say?
W: I dont take criticism lying down
I: They are lynching you
W: I was participating in my own lynching, but the problem was I didnt know what I was
being lynched for
I: Is the Domino theory working?
55
W: Absolutely. Militarily, we succeeded in our goal in Vietnam. We won every engagement we

were involved in out there. The Domino theory became a fact.
I: How about censorship? President Johnson lied to the American people
W: Without censorship, things can get terrible confused in the public mind
I: How do you grade President Johnson?
I: President Johnson did not want the Vietnam War to broaden. He was such a great leader and
my best friend. We moved in to help the Vietnamese defend their country and confront the Viet
Cong and by the way he provided the best food in the battlefield. Texas barbecue ribs, Yes, sir a
great man he was.
I: Would you say that we lost the war in Indochina?
W: In the end we lost Indochina to the communists, but we did not lose Southeast Asia.
I: How many lives were lost in the war?
W: A lot, a hell of a lot. But war is war. What the hell.
I: Would you do the same in another war?
W: You bet your ass. I lead, they die. So what? I kept my retirement pay
I: I think that youre a son of a bitch, a heartless son of a bitch!
W: Hey, buddy, what else is new?
I: Fuck you General. This interview is finished.
W: Bullets and words I can ignore but I cant ignore is an asshole like you. Kiss my big ass and
get out!
***
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Claim. Atorvastatin calcium lowers your bad cholesterol, raise your good cholesterol, lower
your risk for heart attack, lower your total cholesterol and control your blood pressure.
Atorvastatin is not the same as generic simvastatin
Ha ha ha! So will all the others statinsfluvastatin, lovastatin, pitavastatin pravastatin, and
simvastatin. They all have the same mechanism of action, that is, they inhibit the enzyme HMGCoA reductase that plays a central role in the production of cholesterol in the liver. Why is it
then that atorvastatin became the best selling pharmaceutical in history? 12.4 billion in 2008!!!
Caca! And the answer is:
Marketing!
TV ads, carefully prepared brochures, radio ads, magazines ads, pharmacies emails, visitors ads,
coupons galore, and lots and lots of scare tactics.
But what they dont tell you is that statins also block the production of Coenzyme Q10 a
substance necessary for the production of energy in the heart, liver, kidney and testes. My
solution? No more hamburgers, no more bacon, no more sausages, no more hard chesses and no
mre processed meat. There. Good-by statins, hello CQ10. Your wife will notice the difference.
La,la, la.
***
Claim. The mystery comedy movies are dead. The special visual effects killed them.
Ha ha ha! Just because nowadays there are no good writers of mystery comedy movies it doesnt
mean that the genre is dead. Ill show you how is done. And no monsters, people flying thru the
air, or invulnerable handsome guys who kill everybody and always get the girl. What the hell!
57
Title: A deal with the freaking devil
Introduction
The Codex Gigas or Hey, Old Devil, can you do me a favor?
My name is Sean McGregor and Im a thirty years old graduate student of Religion at one of
the largest Catholic Universities west of the Mississippi river. Im short, fat, kind of ugly and
shy, very shy. I never had a girlfriend and my sexual life has always been non-existent. Today
Im in the school library looking for a topic to write my theses on. After a few hours of fruitless
search I came across several articles on The Codex Gigas also known as The Devils Bible. I
found it interesting so I started taking preliminary notes on the subject. Like this:
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Note one. The Codex is the worlds largest more than 600 pagesand most intriguing book
written during the middle Ages. It contains both the Old Testament and the New Testament, and
a long appendix concerning the life of the Devil, his accomplishments, his failures, his quest for
souls, his interpretation of the Jewish history, his non-medical treatment for third degree burns,
his advice on how to fight depression, his incantations on how to get in touch with him, and more
than 1000 recommendations on how to change the good nature of man.
Note two. The Codex contains a drawing of the Devil himself. It depicts Satan as a tall fellow
with two tongues, a sarcastic smile, shiny eyes, two horns, and long nails coming out of his
hands and feet. Hes wearing white underwear with pink dots and no T-shirt.
Note three. The author of The Codex is thought to be a Benedictine monk known as Herman the
Recluse. Herman had sex with several nuns and for that transgression he was sentenced to be
walled up alive. Herman didnt like that so he made a deal with the Abbott of the monastery
father Flanagan. He promised him that he was going to write a book praising the monastic rules
of the Benedictine monks and as a bonus he was going to translate the Bible into Latin. All in
seven days. The Abbott agreed. Herman set out to work but by the seventh day he realized that
he wasnt going to finish the promised book so he prayed to Yahweh to help him finished the
book but was turned down on the basis that he was a sinner. Then Herman got mad, gave
Yahweh the finger and turned his prayers to the Devil in the form of an incantation he had
learned from one of the horny nun, Sister Regina. The spell went like this:
In nomine Dei nostril Satanas Luciferi excelsi!
Satan, Ruler of the earth, I beg you to come to me in this my most difficult time!
Open wide the gates of Hell and come forth from the abyss to greet me as your follower!
Grant me the indulgences of which I speak!
59
Come forward and lets make a deal!

The Devil showed up, finished the book and made Herman signed his soul away. After 10 years
of freaking fun, Herman lost his soul and went to Hell. But the deal wasnt at all that bad. The
Devil put him in charge of Pit 36 where Herman kept on having hot sex with Regina his number
one helper.
I gathered my notes, went home, lay in bed and started thinking about Herman and the
deal he had made with the Devil. Maybe I could do the same, I said out loud. After all, what
am I going to do after graduation? Probably teaching. Teaching the same old tale invented by
Paul. Boring. Maybe I should make a deal with the Devil just like Herman did. Let me try that
and see what the Devil can do for me. And I recited Reginas incantation three times until the
Devil showed up. He looked the same old Devil, ugly, sinister and smelling like horse caca. He
said, Okay, you call me and here Im. Whats your problem?
My problem is my life. Its boring, and my sex life is zero. My dream is to be a private
investigator with a life full of excitement and with plenty of sex without love. Thats what I
want. Can you do that for me?
He put a smirk on his ugly face and then said, No problem, no problem at all. I can
transform you into a handsome, knowledgeable, feisty private eye with a knack for solving
problems and a flair for conquering girls. But youll have to pay the price.
You mean, my soul, right?
Of course. Thats my business. A quid pro quo. What do you say?
I said, For how long?
Until you fail to solve a case. If somebody hires you to find a person and you fail to deliver,
Ill show up and collect your ass, I mean, your soul. Do you agree?
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I said, I do, I do. Where do I sign?
And he said, Here, and produced a piece of paper out of nowhere and pushed toward
me. On the dotted line.
I did and pushed the paper back to his horrible hands. He took it, looked at it, put it in his
pocket, laughed, spat a ball of fire and then said, Okay. Now I let you know my plan by the
numbers.
1. Tomorrow afternoon youll find yourself inside your office located on the ground
floor of the Lopez Building right across from Lummus Park in Miamis South
Beaches. Its completely furnished and its all yours. Your license to kill is displayed
on the south wall and your weapon - a Glock 23.40 S&W- is resting on your desk.
2. Two blocks north of your office is your living quarters, a two-bedroom apartment
also completely furnished and free of rent. Its on the third floor of the Lenin Hotel.
Hes in Hell so he wont mind. And, oh yeah, your walk-in closets are loaded with
clothing and shoes fit for a Devils private eye. Looking good.
3. The keys to the office and to your apartment are on top of your computer.
4. Youll be a tall, heavyweight man with a handsome face, a dark complexion, fiery
black eyes, a black ponytail and a large and thick ding-dong.
5. Next to the office, to the right, there is a bank in which youll have a $24,000 savings
account. That will keep you going for at least a year. After that youre on your own.
6. And finally your new name will be Ignacio Francisco (Cisco) Bravo. Good enough?
What? I screamed. A Latino private eye? Are you serious? I want an American name
like Charlie, Sam, Dick, Peter, Benjamin, Buster or Abraham. Something credible.
61
He blew a stream of smoke from his nose. You conceited asshole, he yelled. Dont
you know that by 2020 you will all be speaking Spanish, eating Latino food and drinking
Mexican beer? Get used to it and start learning Spanish. Anyway you have no choice. I
own you. So either you accept my deal or Im going to fry your ass right here and now.
So what will it be?
Okay, okay. You win. But what about my absence from college, my way of life?
Somebody is bound to notice my disappearance
Are your parents alive?
No.
Do you have any brothers or sisters?
No.
Any close friend?
None.
A piece of cake. Police records will show that that you were run down by a garbage
truck and that your remains were incinerated. Youre officially nothing but a pile of stinking
ashes. Satisfied?
I guess so.
Good. And dont try to fool me. I can follow your actions, and your thoughts, and I can
even hear your phone conversations. Just like God. Hahaha! And he disappeared in a puff.
I fell asleep.
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Ramiro Dieguez
Day 1
The legend of Saint Ursula and the 11,000 virgins or Go get me a virgin, will you please?
Next afternoon I found myself in my office, just like the Old Devil had told me. I ran to
the bathroom and took a good look at my new self. Yes, yes. I was a tall, handsome man with a
dark complexion, black fiery eyes, black ponytail and, oh yes, a large ant thick ding-dong.
Greeeeat! I looked at the rest of my office and was completely satisfied with the set up. The old
Devil had taken care of every detail. Okay, Old Devil, I said out loud. Everything is in order
but where are the customers? At that precise moment the telephone rang. I walked over the
phone, picked it up and said sharply, IF Bravo, private investigator. Whats your problem?
Hello, Mr. Bravo. My name is Stratton, Dr James Stratton. First of all let me tell you
why I picked on you. I was looking in the Internet for the best private eye in Dade County when
your name came up. Number one in the top ten. In addition your record shows that youre a
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college graduate man. Brain and brawn, exactly what I need. I want to hire you to find a missing
female body. Money is no problem. Are you interested?
Whats your address, James?
Go to Bal Harbours Shops, cross the street and look for a yellow house. Got it?
Got it. Ill be on my way.
Okay. Ill be waiting. See you. And he hung up.
I did the same, walked out of my office, went to the bank next door and withdrew a
couple of thousand. I was all set. On the street, next to the taxi stand, a pimp was beating the hell
out of his whore. Left hook to her face, straight right to her ribs, and right uppercut to her chin.
Over and over until she couldnt take the punishment anymore and handed him the money he
worked so hard for. I smiled, shrugged, and hailed a taxi.
Bal Harbours Shops, I told the driver.
Vamonos, amigo, she said, lighting her cigar up and pushing the gas pedal down. Out
of sight.
A half hour later I reached my destination. I got out of the taxi, paid the driver, crossed
the street and wondered around. Pretty soon I saw the yellow house. It was a double-decker with
a well-kept lawn and a pretty brick driveway. An old black Volvo was sitting on it. I walked over
the entrance door and pushed the chimes.
After a few moments, a voice, which I recognized as Dr Strattons, came out of the
intercom. Who is it?
IF Bravo, in person, I said.
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Ramiro Dieguez
The door opened slowly until a body came into view. I saw a middle-aged man with a
round face, big yellow eyes covered with thick bifocals and a wad of fat hanging from his chin.
His scalp was devoid of hair and his midline was pushing forty pounds too much. He was
wearing a green bathrobe and green slippers. He looked like a fat owl with slippers on.
Hello, Mr. Bravo, he said, looking me over. You do look like a private eye. Please,
come on in.
I crossed the threshold and he closed the door after looking down the street.
Im glad you came so soon, Mr. Bravo, he said, shaking my hairy paw.I need help in a
hurry. He let go of my paw and pointed upstairs. Lets go to my studio. I feel more
comfortable there. Please, follow me.
Ugh, jefe, I said, fixing my eyes on his big rump.
Twenty-five steps up the ladder we walked into his studio. I did a hundred and sixtydegree inspection of the place. I saw a large room with walls covered with shelves bursting with
books of every conceivable size and shape. In one corner there was a blackboard filled with
biochemical formulas and next to it a giant model of DNA with its two strands of nucleotides
wrapped around each other forming the famous double helix. In the opposite corner there was a
huge mahogany desk with a soft leather chair behind it and a hard plain chair in front of it. Dr
Stratton moved quickly, sat in the honchos chair and smiled at me. I sat on the chair, crossed my
legs and smiled back. Okay, Dr Stratton supposed you fill me in.
He leaned forward, adjusted his bifocals and then said, As I said on the phone Mr. Bravo
I need your help in a hurry. My only brother John and his wife Magnolia were killed a week ago.
He was a well-known televangelist and she was a famous gospel singer and writer of religious
65
books. A famous couple. Maybe youve heard about them: John, The Messenger and
Magnolia, The Heavenly Singer.
Im not a religious freak, Dr. Stratton. How did they die?
Well, they were taking a trip from Miami to Cancun when the plane stabilizers broke
and the plane dived into the Everglades burying everybody alive. A terrible way to die, dont you
think?
We have to go one way or another, Dr. Stratton, I said briskly. Whats your point?
Well, my brother was very successful in his profession and after his death I was
contacted by his lawyer, Emma Hardbutt who...
I cut him off. Hardbutt? Ha,ha,ha,ha,ha. Thats a funny name. Ha,ha,ha,ha. Dont stop
there, go on.
I intent to, Mr. Bravo. Well, she informed me that according to Johns testament I was
the sole beneficiary of his holdings. They never had any children, you know.
How much money? I said.
Something in the neighborhood of thirty million dollars, he said.
I let out a long and sonorous whistle and then exclaimed, Holy caca! How did that
happen? Did God tell him how to make money in the stock market or did he win the lottery?
How?
Oh, no, no. Besides having a degree in Divinity Studies from Bobs University, John
also had an MBA from the University of Miami. He had his own church, his own recording
studio, his own printing shop, his own Convention Center, his own...
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Ramiro Dieguez
Okay, okay, I got the idea, I said rudely. Youre going to inherit all his money, but
there is a catch, right?

He looked at me with surprised in his beady eyes. How did you know?
Elementary, my dear Dr. Stratton. A man who is about to receive thirty million dollars
doesnt need any help.
As I said, youre my man, he said, nodding his shiny head. Yes, there was a catch, an
addendum in his will. You see Mr. Bravo we, my brother and I, are birds of different feathers.
He chose Religion as his way of life and I chose Biochemistry as my way of life. He believed in
miracles and I believe in DNA. He liked married life and Im a confirmed bachelor. He didnt
like my philosophy of life and I didnt like his. Thats why we were always arguing and fighting
every time we got together. Well, he was so determined to change my way of life that he added a
clause to his will. Have you ever heard of the legend of Saint Ursula?
No, but Ive heard of the legend of Rodrigo Diaz de Vivar, alias El Cid. What else is
new?
This is not new, Mr. Bravo, but rather old, very old. Bear with me, if you please. In the
9th century AD, a maiden by the name of Ursula set out to conquer Rome with an army of 11,000
virgins. She...
What? I yelled, 11,000 virgins? Come on! Ive been around and Ive never found one
yet. Give me a break, willya?
Thats what the legend said, Mr. Bravo. Sometimes legend and fact come to terms at
the end of the road. Anyway as I was saying, Ursula set out to conquer Rome with an army of
11,000 virgins. She was the daughter of a British king who had been killed by the Romans and
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she wanted to get even. Unfortunately for Ursula and her army of maids, by the time they got to
Rome the Huns were in power and Ursula and all the virgins were massacred in the outskirt of
the city. All that was left of the poor girls was a pile of bones and an inscription on a near tree
trunk: XIMV. What did that mean? The majority of European Historians agreed that that the
inscription meant: UNDECIMA MILLIA VIRGINUM, or 11,000 VIRGINS. Needless to say,
Ursulas name became a symbol of chastity all over the world. In the 16th century the Roman
Catholic Church decided to pay tribute to Ursula and founded The Order of Saint Ursula, a
teaching institution dedicated to the higher education of maidens from all over the world. From
its birthplace in Milan, The Order spread to other European countries and in the 17th century to
the United States where it founded two colleges, one in Ohio, and another in New York. Well,
my brother claimed that his wife, Magnolia, was a graduate of The Order, and that she was a
virgin when they got married. So, in the addendum to his will, he stipulated that in order for me
to get his money I had to fulfill the following five conditions:
1. Find a graduate from The Order.
2. Make sure that she was a virgin.
3. Marry her in a Catholic Church.
4. Settled down and have a large family.
5. Donate one million dollars a year to The Order.
The marriage was to take place one month after his death; otherwise the thirty million
dollars would go to his best friend, Benny Staggard, another televangelist who is also married to
a graduate from The Order. Well, there you have it. What do you think, Mr. Bravo? Will you be
able to get me a virgin within one month?
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Ramiro Dieguez
I thought you said you were a confirmed bachelor. Why change your style of life now?
Are you in financial trouble? Do you owe money to the mob or what? Jesus, give me a hint, Dr.
Stratton.
He scratched his cranium and then said, Well, I may as well be honest with you. On one
hand, Im tired of masturbating every Saturday night, so a little sex will add some spice into my
life and on the other hand, there is my job. You see Im a Biochemistry Professor at Florida
International University. I teach one course a semester and spend the rest of my time doing
research. Have you heard the term Genetic Engineering?
Who hasnt? I said quickly. A new way of manipulating the DNA to create saints or to
create devils. A very controversial and sensitive issue.
Thats right, he exclaimed, all excited. Its so controversial and sensitive that nobody
wants to donate any money to support our research. With Johns money I could build a new lab,
order new computers, purchase more animals for research, hire more assistants, unveil the
mystery of the genetic code, and even create a new race. Please, Mr. Bravo, find me a virgin,
please!
Wait a second. If I find you a virgin, how can you be so sure that shes going to marry
you? She may turn you down, you know.
No way, Mr. Bravo, no way. My proposition includes a new furnished house with an
Olympic swimming pool, a cook, a cleaning lady, a gardener, clothing from Paris, shoes from
Rome, jewels from Manhattan Fifth Avenue, a summer house in Monaco, a British nanny to take
care of her babies and a Hollywood plastic surgeon to take care of her sagging breasts. Thats an
offer that no woman can reject, dont you think?
69
I have to admit that you have a point, Dr. Stratton. But, lets first talk about my piece of
the cake shall we? How much are you willing to pay me for finding this body? After all Im
worth thirty millions to you.
He opened a thick 5x 9 black notebook resting on top of the desk and pulled out a
pretty piece of paper. He pushed it toward me and then said, This is an IOU for the amount of
one million dollars, made out to you. Its not signed yet. It will be only when you deliver my
virgin. Here, take a look.
I grabbed the pretty piece of paper and looked at it. Yeap, it was a $1,000,000.00 IOU
made to my name. I shrugged and said, Is that all? Why not two millions? Or three millions? Or
ten millions? You sound like a greedy bastardo.
He waved a finger at me. Hold your horses, Mr. Bravo. Remember Uncle Sam? He
takes thirty percent. So, you see, I need the rest for my cause. Be a sport and say yes, please.
I looked at the IOU again, and then looked at him. Okay, Dr. Stratton, you got yourself a
deal.
Good! Im confident that youre going to find me a virgin. Thank you so much.
I put the IOU in the right hand side pocket of my coat and then asked him, Im curious
about one thing, Dr Stratton. How are you going to verify that the virgin is, indeed, a virgin?
Easy. When you bring her in, Ill call Emma and let her know. Then the three of us, that
is, you, the maiden, and me will meet Emma in Dr. Clarks office. Dr. Clark is an obstetrician
and gynecologist specialist and a very good friend of Emma. She will make sure that the girl is,
indeed, a virgin. If she has her hymen intact, then and only then youll get the IOU signed. Does
that answer your question?
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Ramiro Dieguez
Yes, it does. However we still have to discuss my fee. I charge one hundred dollars a
day for personal expenses plus thirty for taxi rides since I dont drive. However, since I have to
pay my bills by the month, I also charge by the month. So, you owe me four thousand five
hundred dollars. Show me the money!
He got up from the desk, reached inside his right-hand pocket and pulled out a wad of
green power. No problem, Mr. Bravo, no problem at all. Here. And he peeled out forty
Franklins and ten Grants. Is that satisfactory?
I grabbed the money, counted the smelly pile and then put it in my breast pocket. Very
satisfactorio, Dr. Stratton. Now, dont call me, okay? Ill call you as soon as I get some fresh
news. Whats your number?
My cell number is 305-098-7654. You got that?
I got it.
And whats your cell number Mr. Bravo?
I dont have one. Cells are bad for your brain. Anything else you want to tell me?
Thats about it, Mr. Bravo. I want to thank you for coming so fast. I really appreciate
your help, he said with a sigh of relief. He rolled up the load of green backs, shoved them back
into his bin and said, I promise that I wont be a pest. Shall we go down?
I got up and we retraced our steps until we reached the front door. He opened it for me
and said, Thank again, Mr. Bravo. I know that youll find me a virgin. Uh-oh, there comes
Tatiana. Finally.
I looked down the driveway and saw a chubby girl coming our way. She was wearing
black low heel shoes, black skirt and a white blouse. In her left hand she was carrying a black
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briefcase. She looked like a freaking penguin going to survival school. She moved her feet faster
and faster until she finally reached us.
Sorry Im late, Professor, but the traffic was horrible, she said in a heavy foreign
accent.
The egghead put a benevolent smile on his face and told her, Dont you worry, dear; we
still have plenty of time to go over the latest lab results. Meet Mr. Bravo, the most famous
private investigator in Miami. Hes going to help me find Carmen Perez, a Caribbean condo
specialist who fleece me out of twenty thousand dollars and then disappeared in the Miami
jungle. I certainly can use the money to buy some new equipment for the laboratory. He turned
to me and said, Mr. Bravo, this is Tatiana Romanova the best lab assistant I ever had. She holds
a PHD in Molecular Biology from Stalingrad University and was the protge of the famous
Professor Alexander Zelenin of Engelhardt Institute of Molecular Biology.
We shook hands and looked at each other. She had big black eyes, shoulder-length
smooth black hair, small ears and a big mouth. Her tits were invisible and her arms were thick
and hairy. Definitely a dog.
Howyoudoin, babe? I said.
She gave me a funny look, shrugged, retired her heavy hand and replied, I am glad to
have made your acquaintance. Excuse me. And she got inside the house.
Dont mind her, Mr. Bravo. Shes shy, the professor said.
I shrugged. Whatever. Hey, professor, youre a fast thinker. I liked your story about
Carmen Perez.
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Ramiro Dieguez
Just a small lie to justify your presence now and in the future. Well, I hope you call me
soon. Ill be waiting for the good news. Good day. And he closed the door.
I smiled, locked my office and walked out into Ocean Drive. The Drive was packed with
tourists having a good time drinking from the bottle, snorting coke and yelling obscenities. I
couldnt care less because I was feeling good too. I had plenty of dough in my pocket and plenty
of time before my night excursion in search for a virgin. I figured that the best place to look for
an untouchable was right here in the south beaches, since most of the tourists hanging around
Ocean Drive were from Ohio and from New York. I whistled a happy tune and kept on walking
until I found myself in front of a taco place. I fill my guts with burritos and chimichangas,
burped like Pancho Villa, farted a couple of times and then went home, walked to the kitchen,
put the IOU inside a plastic bag and then shove it inside the freezer. My time has come, I told
myself. Pretty soon Ill be rich. Very rich. And jumped into my couch for a nice nap. ZZZZZ.
?????
Sherry. My childhood sweetheart or Is that you, my love?
I woke up a couple of hours later, jumped out of my couch and walked out of my home.
By now Ocean Drive was jam-packed with tourists looking for kicks. I strolled along with the
crowd until I came across a kiosk selling T-shirts and baseball caps. I got in and ordered a
baseball cap with the inscription St. Ursula in big fluorescent letters on the front of the cap.
Cool. Within five minutes the cap was ready. I paid for the bait, put the cap on, walked for a
couple of blocks, got into an electronic store, bought me a two-inch Japanese tape recorder, put it
in my shirt pocket, came out and sat down in one of the benches along the Drive. The sightseers
passed me by laughing, smoking pot and showing their private parts. I waited patiently for about
two hours until finally a girl detached herself from the throng, came over and sat by me.
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She was in her late thirties, was wearing a one piece mango suit, orange tennis shoes and
a watermelon money belt wrapped around her slender waist. Her hair was black; her eyes were
green, her nose straight and her lips full and meaty. She looked like a bowl of tropical salad
ready to be eaten. She looked at me, pointed to my cap and said, Is that what I think it is?
You tell me, I said
Thats my alma mater story, she said. Whats your story, I mean, why are you
advertising her?
Because I need information on girls who attended colleges sponsored by The Order Of
Saint Ursula. You see, Im writing a one-of-a-kind alumni directory. Instead of having the usual
names, addresses and phone numbers of the students, I concentrate on what happened after
graduation. The real experiencia humana. Were they able to use the knowledge they got in
college to make a living? Was the world a safe, wonderful place to live happily ever after? What
did they achieve? Where did they go wrong? How to solve insoluble problems? Was sex what
you expected or was sex a disappointment? In essence, sound advice to learn from. What do you
think? Do you like my idea?
I love it, Mr..
Bravo is my name and helping maids is my game, I said.
As I said, Mr. Bravo, I love your idea, she said, moving closer to me. I think you hit it
right on the head. If I had had a book like that, I wouldnt have suffered so much. Let me tell you
my story.
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Ramiro Dieguez
Wait a sec, I said, pulling out my tape recorder and holding it in my right hand. This is
the latest Japanese tape recorder in the market. I dont want to miss one word. Go ahead, make
my noche. And I switched the recorder on.
Well, is like this. My name is Sherry Sinclair and I was born in Cleveland, Ohio. My
childhood sweetheart was Burt Burton, my next-door neighbor. I attended private catholic
elementary and secondary schools and he attended public elementary and secondary schools. I
graduated with honors and he graduated without honor, on account of his habit of stealing cars.
Nevertheless, we fell in love and our attachment grew with every passing year until, before we
knew it, it was prom night. He didnt go to his prom but he did take me to mine. It was divine.
We danced, we drank whiskey and we promised to love each other for the rest of our lives. It
was an unforgettable night. I was so happy.
Until? I ventured to say.
Until the party was over and he took me home. Right in front of my house, he held my
hand and told me, Im afraid I have some bad news. My father has been transferred to California
and were moving tomorrow. I guess this is good-bye. We kissed and we cried. I held back my
tears and asked him, Why these things have to happen? Why is life so cruel? Its not fair. He
shrugged and shed a tear. I said, I guess thats the way things are. But I promise you that Ill
never stop loving you, never. You can count on me. Just promise me that you will not steal any
more cars and that youll go to college, and then Law School and become a famous lawyer, you
promise? He nodded, kissed me and went home.
What happened next? I inquired.
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I started college and he did too. I did well, and went on to become an English teacher in
Cleveland West High but Burt didnt fare so well. Indeed, he was kicked out of school in his
freshman year because his zero GPA. I wrote him long letters and encouraged him to go into
business for himself. He finally took my advice and set up a used car business. He did so well
that he decided to become a movie producer. Bingo! Every movie he produced turned out to be a
box office smash. His first movie grossed thirty million. His second movie made thirty million.
After that, he stopped writing to me and I had to read the tabloids to find out the rest of his story.
It read something like this:
He married Ruth Goldberg, his director,
His third movie grossed eighty million,
His wife, Ruth, died of an OD,
He got involved with Pandora Baxter, a freshman Senator from California,
He and the Senator were arrested for snorting coke,
His fourth movie grossed ten thousand,
His fifth movie was an atomic bomb,
He and the Senator moved to Vegas and opened a whorehouse,
The Senator died of a heart attack while having sex under the table,
He got into politics and became Governor of Nevada. Two years later he called me and
told me that he was coming to Cleveland to see me that he couldnt wait to see me again.
He was so happy that he even sang for me. Like this:
Life is good, life is great
Can be sweet, can be sad
We must learn to be glad,
We are not in the grave.
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Ramiro Dieguez
How do you like that? How do you like it? So sensitive! I couldnt wait to see him again
after all this years. Of course I was a bit apprehensive thinking about how he will find me. Will
he find me still attractive or will he be disappointed? Will he notice my bristle hair? My extra
pounds? My false teeth? My moustache? Nevertheless, I made reservations for two in our
favorite restaurant, The Swam, in Shaker Heights and waited for his coming. Two months ago,
he arrived in Cleveland and called me from the airport. I told him to meet me at The Swam at
eight oclock. He agreed. Of course, I was so eager to see him that by seven oclock I was
already sitting at our reserved table sipping on a glass of ginger ale. Exactly at eight oclock he
came in. He was dressed up in an Italian gray suit, white shirt, blue tie, and shiny black shoes. In
his left hand he was holding a bottle of champagne and two glasses and in his right hand he was
holding a cigarette. He looked so debonair. He made his way through the crowded tables until
she reached me. He spat out whatever was left of his cigarette butt and faced me.
Has been a long time, angel, how are you? he said, in a hoarse, manly voice.
Fine, Burt, just fine, I said. Please sit down.
He put the champagne bottle and the two glasses on the table, kissed me on my lips and sat
down. He looked at me and I looked at him.
You looked so young, Burt, I said.
Plastic surgery angel, he said, taking out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his breast
pocket and putting them on top of the table.
Im really amazed, Burt. Really. You look like a spring chicken. And you hair still is long
and wavy. Wow! Remember when I used to pull it every time you misbehaved? Let me do it
now. Just for old times sake.
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Sorry, angel, but this is only a wig. I lost my real hair in a fire in the brothel. No big
deal. Tell me, how are your parents?
They both passed away, Burt. Now I live by myself in one bedroom apartment in
Lakewood. I never marry, you know. I have a steady job and a good health insurance plan,
thanks God. How about you? Are you healthy?
He picked up a fresh smoke, lit it and took a deep and long drag. Not bad, angel, not
bad, he said, letting a dense cloud of smoke pour out of his nostrils.
I smiled and said, Do you remember the day we kissed for the first time? Our teeth
clashed so hard that your front tooth got chipped off. Did you ever fix that front tooth?
Sorry, angel, but my uppers are not real anymore. A constituent threw a chair at me in
one of my political rallies and he broke my front tooth. My jaw too. Now I suffer from TMJ or
Temporomandibular Joint Disorder and as a result, I snore for the most part of the night. Nothing
serious, though.
I understand, Burt, dont worry about it. Do you know who I saw the other day? Jenny
Skalowskasky. Remember her? She lived next to you. Shes not fat anymore, but she still has
lots and lots of pimples. Poor Jenny. Good thing that you never suffered from acne, Burt. You
skin was always so smooth and soft. Let me touch your hand.
Sorry, angel, but I suffer from Psoriasis and, because of that, the back of my hands are
rough and thick. But, who cares? I can always touch you with the palm of my hands. Right?
Right, Burt, right. Remember when we didnt have any money and we had to steal
apples from the street vendors? We were too fast for them. Catch and run, remember? So much
fun. You always had an eye for the best apples, wow! And speaking of eyes, how come one of
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Ramiro Dieguez
your eyes is not blinking?

Nothing serious, angel. I lost my left eye in a brawl with my late wife, Pandora. Now I
have a glass eye in its place. Who needs two eyes, anyway?
I laughed and he laughed. Two drops of blood came out of his mouth.
Ugh? Whats that, Burt?
He wiped his lips with one of the napkins and said, TB, angel, I have tuberculosis. A
mild case, though. Nothing that pure air, good food and rest cant cure. As a matter of fact, thats
what I wanted to tell you. I want to quit politics, buy a big ranch in Arizona and live with you
happily ever after. Youre still a virgin, arent you?
Of course, Burt. Ive been saving it for you.
Cool, angel. I want to teach you how to have crazy sex and how to achieve multiple
orgasms every time we make love. I learned all the tricks from the whores in the brothel. Youre
going to love it! Sex is everything in life, dont you agree?
A hundred percent, Burt. There is only one thing.
Whats that, angel?
I suffer from restless leg syndrome.
What the hell is that, angel?
As soon as I go to bed, my legs start kicking for no apparent reason. Kick, kick, kick.
For six to eight hours. But dont worry; well be sleeping in different rooms. Cool?
He put his butt out, pointed at my legs and said, This kicking thing, what causes it?
Nobody knows for sure, Burt.
How do you treat it, angel?
There isnt any treatment, Burt.
79
How long does it last, angel?

Till death do us part, Burt.
I see, angel. Well, I have to go to the john. Will you excuse me? And he got up and left.
I waited and waited until I realized that he wasnt coming back. I picked up the glass of
champagne, held it in front of me and said, This is to you, sweetheart. I know that Ill never see
you again. You have changed and I have changed. Were no longer the persons we once were.
Childhood, adolescence, happy days, all gone. How sad. Life is nothing but a dream, an illusion,
a shadow, a fiction. At the end of the rainbow there is nothing but a bag of memories. But Ill
always remember you, my childhood love, and this, our place. Good-bye, Burt. And I drank the
glass of champagne in one big gulp, put the glass down and headed for the exit door. As I was
reaching the door, I had second thoughts and decided to get drunk. So, I turned around and
walked over to the restaurant lounge. I picked a stool in the far end of the counter and ordered a
double shot of bourbon. The bartender brought me the drink and I gulped down in one swallow.
Naturally, I started coughing. The man sitting next to me slapped my back and said, Take it
easy, senorita, and dont drown yourself.
I recovered my posture and told him, Thanks. Say, are you Hispanic, by any chance?
He showed me his gold front tooth and replied, Si, senorita, yo soy Hispanic. My name
is Pepe Beroco. I teach Spanish in East High. Mucho gusto. And he shook my hand.
I retired my hand, smiled and said, What a coincidence! Im an English teacher at West
High. My name is Sherry, Sherry Sinclair. Have you been teaching long?
This is my third year, he said, finishing his bottle of beer.
I gave him a second look. He was tall, dark and handsome. His eyes were black and so
was his thick moustache. He was wearing a short sleeve sport shirt, white slacks and tan loafers.
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Ramiro Dieguez
He was, indeed, very sexy.

Teaching is a cruel profession, Pepe. No pay and no reward. Get out while you have
time. And I beckoned the bartender for another double shot. He complied with my request and
put the spirit on the counter.
Pepe glanced at the drink then at me and then said, Do you have a problem with
teaching or is it a problema personal?
I downed the second shot of bourbon and ordered another one. Personal, very personal.
Do you really want to hear my problem, Pepe?
Of course, Sherry. Maybe I can help you. Go ahead, Im all orejas.
I was feeling much better, so I ordered another drink and told him the whole story.
He listened carefully and finally said, I have the cure for your condition. Come home
with me and Ill show you how. I live just across the street. Come on. Ill take care of the bill.
And he put a twenty on the counter.
I had nothing to lose so I drank my last shot and we left. Five minutes later we were
inside his place. It was a small apartment, well decorated and very clean. He led me into the
living room; turned the TV on, told me to wait a second and then he disappeared. Ten minutes
later he reappeared, dashed into the living room, undressed me completely, grabbed me in his
arms, ran to the bathroom and dropped me inside the overflowing tub. Ill give you all the sexo
you have been missing, senorita he said, taking all of his clothing off and jumping into the tub. I
nodded and he opened my legs and proceeded to deflower me right there and then. I saw the
heavenly stars and then had one, two, three, four and five orgasms, one after the other. It was
sooooooo goooood. After that, we got out of the tub, dressed, kissed, and shook hands.
Thanks, Pepe, I needed that, I said, rubbing my crotch. When can we do it again?
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Whenever you feel the urge, Sherry. My tub is your tub.

Thanks, lover. See you soon, I said, heading for the door.
Hasta la vista, baby, he told me.
I shut the door and went home. End of my story, Mr. Bravo.
Not quite, Sherry. Whats your personal advice to the other members of The Order?
Youre right. Two things. First, if your childhood sweetheart call you out of the blue and
tells you that he cant wait to see you again, tell him to take a hike. Second, find a tall, dark,
handsome Hispanic and let him do a number on you. They are wonderful in bed and can hold it
for a long, long time. Enjoy, enjoy.
Wonderful, Sherry. I cant wait to go home and write your story. Thanks.
Youre welcome, Mr. Bravo. Listen, when can I get a copy of the directory?
This fall. Just call your friendly campus bookstore and ask for a free copy. Okay?
Okay. Say, are you Hispanic?
Why, yes. Yo hablo espanol. Do you want to do the old in out with me? I can teach you
a few tricks I learned in the whorehouses of Vegas. Shall we dance?
Wow! Bust my line. Lets go to the beach and have a sand storm over there.
We did and I taught her how to play the trumpet, how to play missionary, how to be a
smart doggie, how to do a criss-cross, and how to dance the rumba. After that she was exhausted
and just lay there moaning incoherently. I got up, shook my piece, got dressed and walked up to
the Ocean Drive Sports Emporium, a popular hangout for sports freaks like me. I pushed the
entrance door and got in. The place was packed with screaming tourists. I shoved a couple of
suckers out of my way, got to the counter, grabbed a stool in front of the giant TV set and stayed
put eating hot buffalo wings and drinking Mexican beer until the foam came out of my nostrils. I
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burped like Zapata, and then paid and staggered home. Discharged my bladder, my guts and then
shower and bed. All in all it was a damn good day.
Note to the reader
If you come across a foreign word and you dont know the meaning of it you can do one of three
things:
1. Guess its meaning
2.
Skip it
3. Ask your neighbor
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Day 2
The Genome Project or Is that the ultimate weapon of mass destruction?
The next day I got up after three, got myself all cleaned up and all dressed up, made a pot
of 100% Colombian coffee and then sat down in front of the TV to enjoy the brew. I clicked on the
college channel and the bearded face of Sophomore Sammy Samuelson came on the screen. He was
saying, And now Ill bring you the latest good news and the latest bad news circulating on campus
across this great land of ours. Here we go:
In Tampa the good news is that the President finally proposed marriage to his Vice-president; the
bad news is that the Vice-president had already married the cafeteria cook.
In Akron the good news is that a Chemistry assistant professor discovered a new product that cures
chronic gonorrhea; the bad news is that the professors penis had already dropped-off.
In San Diego the good news is that a Sociology associate professor wrote a book on how to build a
fence to stop the illegal immigrants; the bad news is that the illegal immigrants had already written
a book on how to get around the fence.
In Texas the good news is that a speech graduate student created a new sign language that uses only
one finger; the bad news is that people thought that he had gone mad.
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In North Carolina the good news is that a Psychology instructor finally found out what causes
freshmen to go binge-drinking every week-end; the bad news is that the freshmen go binge-drinking
every day of the week.
In Georgia the good news is that a Nutrition lecturer wrote a research paper claiming that peaches
were good for acne; the bad news is that this year crop of peaches caused daily bouts of bloody
diarrhea.
In Louisiana the good news is that a Dean of men finally forced the students not to talk with their
mouth full of food; the bad news is that the students now talk with their mouth full of soda pop.
In Ohio the good news is that Madam Beaumont, a French Professor at Ohio State, wrote a book on
how to speak French without grammar; the bad news is that the students found out that her degree
was bogus and that she was a high school dropout.
In Manhattan the good news is that an English Professor found a way to teach his students how to
speak correctly; the bad news is that his students couldnt understand what he was saying.
At that precise moment somebody knocked at my door. I turned the TV off, put the pot of
coffee down, got up and opened the door. It was Tatiana Romanova in person. She was dressed in a
long black dress and her face was as ugly as ever.
May I come in? she said, just like in the soap operas.
Sure thing, Tatiana. Entra. She came in and I closed the door. She sat on the West side of
the couch and I sat on the East side.
How did you find out where I live? I said for openers.
Simply, she said. I looked it up in the yellow pages.
Okay, Tatiana, you found me. Now what can I do for you? What?
Dr. Stratton has disappeared, Mr. Bravo.
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You dont say. Tell me about it.

Well, he was supposed to be at work in the lab by 8:00 a.m. this morning but he didnt
show up. By noon he still wasnt there, so I called his house but nobody answered. I got worry
and went to his house. I rang the doorbell several times, knocked at the side windows, and called
his name out loud but I got no reply. Finally I went to the backyard and squeezed in through a
broken rear window. Sure enough, the house was completely empty and Dr Stratton was gone. I
went back to the lab and waited for him until now but he never materialized. Im afraid that he
has been kidnapped.
By a woman maybe, I said with a mischievous smile on my face.
Please, Mr. Bravo, Dr. Stratton is not that kind of man. His only love is his work.
Right, right. Can you tell me why do you think that he has been kidnapped? Isnt that a
little bit far out?
Not if you know what kind of man Dr Stratton is and what kind of experiment he was
involved in?
Okay, Tatiana. Suppose you fill me in.
Okay. Listen. Dr Stratton is a very famous man. His work on Genetic Engineering is
well known all over the world. In fact, his name has been mentioned as a possible candidate for
the Nobel Prize in Biochemistry.
Let me guess, Tatiana. Hes all wrapped up in the DNA molecule, right?
She came closer to me. And then some. What do you know, if anything, about the
Human Genome Project?
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Hey, amiga, dont underestimate me. Just because my name is Bravo and my skin is not
precisely white, dont assume that Im a freaking ignoramus. You and your boss may be experts
in the field of Biochemistry but Ive taken every conceivable college course from Astrology to
Zoroastrianism including Genetics and Biochemistry. In addition to that broad liberal education
Ive slept with 365 registered nurses who taught me a lot, a hell of a lot, about Medicine
including Molecular Biology. Let me set you straight. A genome is a collection of all the genetic
material or DNA located on the surface of the 23 pairs of chromosomes present in the nucleus of
a cell. And what I know about the Human Genome Project is that, for five years, thousand of
scientists from all over the world engaged on the almost impossible task of establishing the
order, the sequence, If you wish, of the four chemical basesadenine, thymine, guanine and
cytosinethat make up the rungs of the endless DNA ladder. The main problem was that the
human genome consists of about 5 billion base pairs of DNA, a nightmare, statistically speaking.
Nevertheless, on April 17, 2003, a group of scientists from Denmark was finally able to map the
sequence of the human genome. Now its known that there are about 31,000 genes on the 23
chromosomes and they also know where the genes are specifically located. This information will
help scientists find cures for many incurable diseases. Is that good enough for you or shall I go
on?
She whistled, Russian style. Good enough, Mr. Bravo. Im glad that youre not one of
those dumb TV private eyes. But let me continue, okay?
Si, si, continua, I said.
For the last year Dr Stratton and I have been working together in the most important
secret project since the development of the atomic bomb.
I smell a rat, I said. A fat government rat, right?
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I wouldnt put it like that, but, yes, the Department of Biological Warfare assigned Dr
Stratton the task of finding the genome of the flu virus that killed 50 million people worldwide in
1918. Do you know anything about that catastrophic event?
I put a half smile on my face and then said, Why, yes. One of the nurses I slept with
wrote a paper on that topic and between orgasm and orgasm she told me the whole sordid story.
She said that the origin of the epidemic was the ports of Spain, and thus the name of Spanish flu,
and later spread to the rest of Europe, Asia and finally came to the USA in the spring of 1918.
Its estimated that as many as 40 or 50 million people were killed worldwide. It spread so
quickly that the doctors were singing the blues, like this,
I saw a little bluebird in my backyard
I called it Bluebenza.
I opened the kitchen window
And in flew-enza
Pretty song but ugly outcome: massive accumulation of fluids in the lungs, coughing of blood,
choking and death within hours. Years later scientists discovered that the reason why the flu virus
became so lethal was because its genetic make-up, or genome, had changed into a new subtype of
influenza, known as A/H1N1, a more virulent strain. People just died overnight. Period. And there
was nothing anybody could do to control the spread of the disease. Nothing. According to my onenight stand it lasted until 1920 and is considered to be the worst epidemic ever, even worse than
the 1348 bubonic plague. Satisfied, amiga?
She nodded. Very. I see that youre a very well informed man. Good. I love to talk to
informed people. Where were we?
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Ramiro Dieguez
I was going to ask you how did you guys intent to find the genome of the flu virus of the
1918? You first need to find some 1918 bodies and thats not going to be easy. They dont have
those guys frozen in your friendly neighborhood super market, you know.
In our case it was very easy, she said, matter of fact. The Department of Biological
Warfare called the Armed Forces Institute of Pathology in Kansas, an institution that has collected
and preserved in paraffin wax 100 cases of victims of the 1918 flu epidemic, and ordered them to
ship one of the bodies to us.
And? I said.
They did, she said. We received the body, did an autopsy on the guy, and dug out a
fragment of the virus from his lungs. After that we used a secret technique developed by Dr
Stratton--called Stratton Genetic Mapping--and within sixty days we had the complete sequence of
the genome of the flu virus of 1918. It was magnificent! We notified the Department of Biological
Warfare and they told us to go ahead, to use the blueprint of the sequence of the genome of the
killer virus to alter the bases of a normal flu virus
I interrupted her with a powerful yell, Gene splicing! They select a benign virus, opened
its DNA molecule with a cleavage enzyme and insert a piece of the DNA of the 1918 virus into it.
This process is called Recombinant DNA. Now the benign virus becomes a deadly virus capable of
killing thirty million people. The ultimate weapon of mass destruction!
She shrugged. And whats wrong with that, Mr. Bravo? Like Dr Stratton said, we have to
protect ourselves from other nations working on biological weapons. You heard of anthrax, and
botulism. Anyway, we got some benign viruses from the Microbiology department and today, this
morning in fact, we were going to do the gene splicing. But without Dr Stratton everything came to
a stop.
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Who else knew about this experiment besides you and Dr Stratton?
The government watchdog, Major Charles Chuck Owens from the CIA, and Dr Helen
Bliss, a practicing analyst and Director of the Psychiatric Center at FIU. Major Owens monitored all
the progress Dr Stratton made and Dr Bliss kept us in good mental condition with her anti-stress
program. Yes, they both knew it about the Project.
Okay, I got the picture of the whole ball of wax. Now, what is it exactly that you want
me to do about it?
Well, since you are working for Dr. Stratton, I figured that you may as well help me to
find him, right?
Wrong! I said sharply. That would be a second job. If you want to hire me to find your
boss, you have to pay me accordingly. How much money do you have, Tatiana?
I have a little over $2,000 in my savings account. Will that do it?
I usually charge twice as much for finding a missing body but Ill give you a break. If by
noon tomorrow the old goat, I mean, Professor Stratton, is still missing, drop an envelope with
the two thousands in my mailbox and Ill start my search for him. Okay?
Okay, she said. Do you have any more questions?
Why, yes. Can you duplicate the experiment? After all, youre his personal assistant.
No, I cant. Tell you why. Dr. Stratton kept all his research data in a thick 5 x 9 black
notebook and didnt let anybody, not even me, look into it. Without that data book, nobody can
duplicate the experiment.
And the data book has disappeared as well, right?
Yes, she said in a demure voice.
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I let my big mouth add a thoughtful comment. And, of course, with the data book
somebody can duplicate the experiment and kill a few million people, is that it, Tatiana?
Im afraid so, she said in a trembling voice.
I see, I said. Well, I assume that by now Major Owens and Dr. Bliss are also aware of
Dr. Strattons disappearance.
Im sure, she said. Just before I headed this way, I called Dr. Bliss and told her the bad
news. She hung up on me rather fast. Im certain that she called Major Owens immediately and
told him the happening.
Whats the relationship between those two? I said.
Theyre lovers. I saw them having anal sex in the back seat of Major Owens car.
How did you and Major Owens get along?
We never did, she said. He hates foreigners and always looked down on me. Freaking
kakahole!
I know what you mean, Tatiana. Tell me, did Dr. Stratton belong to any private club?
No, she said. As I said before, he was totally immersed in his work. Nothing else
attracted his attention.
Any special male friend?
None, she said.
Okay, Tatiana. As soon as I get your money Ill start searching for Dr. Stratton. I let
you know the progress of my investigation. Whats your phone number?
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My home phone number is 305-111-1111, but dont call me there because Major Owens
probably has it tapped by now. Use my cellular phone number instead, 305-111-1112. You
follow?
All the way, Tatiana, all the way. And where do you live?
I live in the Sherman building, next to FIU, second floor, apartment 201. I share the
place with a graduate student friend of mine.
Whats his or her name? I asked her.
Her name is Ashi Mishima, got it?
Got it, Tatiana. Tell me, do you have any relatives back in Russia?
No. My mother died when I was born and my father left town immediately after. I was
brought up by my aunt, Irina.
Husband?
No husband. Who wants to be coop up inside a house, cleaning, cooking, and taking
care of a bunch of dirty kids?
Boyfriend?
Hey, why are you so interested in my personal life?
In case something happens to you. Next of kin, you know.
Thats very thoughtful of you, Mr. Bravo. Thank you very much. I feel much better
now.
One last question, Tatiana. Why are you so concern in finding Dr. Stratton? Is it for the
love of science or is for the love of you?
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She bit her lips and then said, Under normal circumstances Id consider your question an
insult, but since this plight is anything but normal, Ill be straightforward with you. Science is
my life and Dr. Stratton is my light. I want to work with him forever, be at his side, discover the
molecular fabric of life and be part of his triumph. However, my visa expires soon and Dr.
Stratton had already begun the preliminary papers to claim me as a permanent resident of this
country. No Dr. Stratton, no citizenship. I hope you understand.
Absolutely. Youre only human. Well, I guess thats all for today, I said getting up
from the couch.
Yes, thats all, she said getting on her feet and heading for the entrance door. When she
reached the door, she turned around and said, Thank you, Mr. Bravo. Have a good day and good
luck.
Luck has nothing to do with my finding Dr. Stratton, sister. Its all balls, bullets and
brains. You follow?
She gave me a triple hard look and moved her sexless lumbar away.
How do you like that? I told the empty walls. Now I have to look for the old man too.
But its okay. Ill find him, Ill find his virgin and Ill get my million. So, Id better go to work.
But first, Ill have some lunch. And out I went. To murder or be murdered. Whatever.
Down in Lummus Park, fifteen policemen were beating the hell out of a Latino guy.
Nobody paid any attention and neither did I. Probably another movie, I said out loud, and kept
on going until I got to the Puerco Restaurante close to 12th street. I walked in, ordered me a full
two pounds of roasted pork, two portions of yucca, and three steins of Mexican beer. I dug in
with gusto and ten minutes later I was burping like a pig. I paid, got out and directed my feet
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toward Cine Paraiso close to the South Beaches Patrol Station. The main feature was Double
View, starring Lucky Strongman, a very popular star of the forties. Good enough for me. I
purchased a ticket, went into the empty dark room, and sat in the front row. The show began.
The movie was about a beautiful woman who hired a down-the-road private eye to find
her missing twin sister. As it happened, the beautiful woman, Dorothea, suffered from split
personality syndrome, and her twin sister existed only in her freaking mind. A common plot used
by the witless Hollywood writers. I couldnt care less about the psychological implications, since
my attention was focused on Lucky. I watched with excitement how he talked, how he curled his
lips in disdain, how he tilted his hat, how he cracked his knuckles, how he drank his bourbon and
how he laughed when he shot the villain, who happened to be Dorotheas analyst, right between
his eyes. The bad doctor had been milking Dotty out of thousands of dollars looking for her
twin sister. In the last scene, Dorothea offered Lucky her naked body as a bonus, but he pushed
her away from him and told her, Sorry, Dot, but I cant make love to you and your sister at the
same time. And walked away from her. The movie ended with Lucky getting drunk again. So
what? He probably had a rotten childhood. I liked the film so much that I decided to see it again.
And again. And again. When I knew it by heart, I got up and went home. I got in, dropped my
body in my couch and took a well-deserved nap.
?????
Mary Jo. The secret of life or Is that all there is?
Two hours later I was sitting on the same bench as the previous night waiting for my
virgin. Fifteen minutes later a girl broke away from the maddening crowd and came over. She
was over thirty-five, had a shoulder length red ponytail, green eyes, a parted chin and buttocks
the size of twin watermelons. She was wearing a ten-gallon hat, lapis lazuli jeans, silver T-shirt
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and cowboy boots. She looked like a sheriff looking for the bad guys. She told me that she was a
graduate of The Order and asked me about the cap. I told her the why and how and she agreed to
participate in my project. Like this.
My name is Mary Jo and I was President of Kappa Delta, the most popular fraternity on
the New York campus. We were a fun bunch always playing pranks on the faculty, getting drunk
for no reason, giving bogus checks on weekends, taking trips to Rome every summer, cheating
on all the exams, and using our parents credit cards to charge everything. La dulce vida.
However, before we knew it, graduation day came and we found ourselves with the unpleasant
task of making a living. We asked ourselves, Is the real world as bad as they say it is? Are
people as bad as they say they are? Whats the secret of life anyway? Nobody knew the answer
to those frightful questions, so we had a big farewell party and promised to keep in touch with
each other. Of course each one of us went into separate ways and never saw each other again.
Now, ten years later, I have come to know the secret of life and Id like to share it with the
younger generation of graduates of The Order so that they can live a happier life than I did.
Whats the secret of life? Here it is: Living is lying!
Yes, my dear maids, living is lying. Allow me to give you a few examples to support my
claim.
Example #1. The President of the United States is on TV and hes delivering his prepared
speech. ...and with liberty for all. In conclusion, my fellow Americans, we fought our revolution
to repel the hated taxes. This is the land of the free and the land of the brave indeed. Read my
lips, no more taxes for you. You can be sure that I never, ever, will raise your taxes. Trust me.
God bless you all. Good night.
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After he gets home, Florence, his wife asks him, Hey, George, is it true what you say about
taxes?
And George says, There is more than one way to skim a cat, dear Flo. Im not going to increase
their personal taxes but Im going to decrease their social security benefits. Seesaw. Heheheheh!
Isnt that clever?
Example #2. A fat doctor is giving a reprimand to one of his patients. Mrs. Pierce, you have to
start dieting or youre going to die. Look at your blood chemistry profile. Cholesterol is four
hundred and triglycerides three hundred. Way too high. Right now youre eighty pounds
overweight, dont exercise at all, drink beer by the case, and smoke two packs a day. Shame on
you! No excuses, Mrs. Pierce, no excuses. You have to go to my weight control clinic and try my
starvation plan. I really care about you, Mrs. Pierce. In the meantime, Im sending you to my
laboratory to have the blood work repeated. Nothing is too good for you, Mrs. Pierce. Dont
worry about money now; well bill you later. My secretary, Leona, will arrange the details for
you. Go and talk to her. Have a nice day, Mrs. Pierce. Bye-bye.
After he has finished his daily work, the fat doctor goes to his lovers nest and gets laid.
Ahhhhh! Wowowowowowo! That was good sex, dearest. Now, let me recover my energy and
relax my muscles. Hand me some of those aromatic barbecue pork chops, some of that corn-onthe-cob, and let me have a pitcher of that black German beer. Thank you, dear. Ahhh! The
pleasure of eating. And smoking. Listen, dear, hand me one of those British cigarettes over there,
on top of the left end table. Thank you, my love. Look at the beautiful smoke rings coming out of
my nostrils. See them? Isnt that pretty? Excuse me? Dessert? Sure thing. Make mine a la mode,
will you please? But before the pie, lets have some more wild sex. Hit me again, this time with
the center table, will you Leona? AhhhhhhhhhAhhhhhhhh!
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Example #3. Skippy, a freshman in college, is talking to his newly acquired girlfriend. I swear
to you, Candice, by my mothers grave, that I will always love you. Eternally. Please, take off
your panties and wrap your legs around my loins. Ill show you what love is like.
After Candice has departed Skippy looks at his flaccid penis and mutters to himself, Sorry,
Candice, but my ding-dong knows no time limit. And another thing, my mother was a test tube.
Fun, fun, fun.
And on and on and on and on. As I said before, dear sisters,
Living is lying!
Now, what are you going to do about it? Listen carefully. Learn how to lie with a smile
on your face. Lie and smile and smile and lie. A big corporation is not going to pay you a sixfigure salary to tell the truth. They figure any fool can do that. You have got to learn how to lie
with a smile on your face. This world belongs to the liars. And if you dont believe me, go to the
nearest hardware store, buy a lantern and do as Diogenes did-try to find an honest rich woman.
I must say that you have one thing going for you. Todays lanterns are equipped with solar
batteries that last and last and last. Of course, if you simply cannot lie, then take a crash course in
Spanish, go to Mexico, and set up a real estate business. Just make sure that you write the words
con el favor de Dios before every verb you use in your commercial transactions. Try it, it
worked for me. Thats my free advice to you, dear friends. Go get them! End of the secret. Well,
how do you like it, Mr. Bravo?
I love it, Mary Jo. To write God willing before every verb is a clever way to steer out
of trouble. Congratulations. How about sex? You never say anything about your love life, I
mean, are you still a virgin or what?
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Right youre, Mr. Bravo. Let me tell you. One year after I set up my real estate business
in Mexico I met Quetzalcoatl, a Mexican rodeo star in Guadalajara. Have you ever heard that
name before, Mr. Bravo?
Why, of course, Mary Jo. Im a college graduate man, not a high school bum.
Quetzalcoatl was the most famous ruler of the Toltec, an indigenous civilization of Mexico. He
built pyramids, designed a weekly calendar, added beef to corn, bottled pulque, manufactured
sombreros, and invented the Mexican wheel. He also introduced the first 2x1 in all the licensed
whorehouses in the land. He died when he was one hundred and one years old of a bad case of
syphilis. Today his picture is in all Mexican museums. A tall fellow, with a stern face,
penetrating black eyes, twisted moustache, long sideburns, and muscular arms. Very impressive
macho mejicano.
Bravo, Mr. Bravo, I see that youre a knowledgeable man. As I was saying, I met him in
a rodeo in Guadalajara. He was the spitting image of the original Quetzalcoatl and I immediately
fell in love with him. He also liked me, so we started dating right away. We dated for about a
year and he never tried to impose on me, if you know what I mean. I waited for another year
until I decided it was time to make my move. I invited him to have dinner in my house and he
accepted. We talked.
Listen Quetzalcoatl, I said. We have been going steady for two years and I think is
about time that we reach a decision. Do you want to marry me or your horse?
He put a sad face on and said, I do want to marry you, Maria, but I have a problem.
Whats your problem, Quetzalcoatl?
Well, is like this. I can ride any wild horse in the world, but I cant ride you.
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And why is that, Quetzalcoatl?
I suffer from premature ejaculation. As soon as I see a womans pubic triangle, Im
spent. Whooooosh!
Have you seen a doctor, Quetzalcoatl?
Of course. As a matter of fact, I have seen five different doctors. The first one tried
several behavioral techniques, the second one tried mutual sex organ examination technique, the
third one tried touch-only technique, the fourth one tried Ramans squeeze technique, and the
fifth one tried stop-and-start technique. But it was no good. As soon as I saw the hairy spider I
shot myself in the groin. Whoooosh! See what I mean? I dont want to make your life miserable.
You dont think that you can help me, do you?
I sure can, dear Quetzalcoatl. Listen. As soon as you get an erection, get your ten-gallon
hat, put it on, pull it down to your ears and pretend youre busting a bronco. Ride and rock and
rock and ride. Lets try it!
And did it work? I cut her off.
Why do you think Im wearing this hat? And she blinked her left eye at me.
Youre a clever girl, Mary Jo. I find your story very educational. Muchas gracias. You
can pick up a copy of the directory by next fall at your friendly bookstore.
Thank you my man. And she got up, pushed her ten-gallon hat down and melted in the
crowd.
I wet home and turned the TV on the classic six-shooters of the forties. I watched three movies
and fell asleep on the couch.
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Day 3
A primer on personality disorders or Is that why youre hearing voices?
The next afternoon I got up at my usual working hours ran down to my mailbox and
plucked out all my letters. A couple of girls passed me by, giggled and said in unison, Weve
seen bigger, mister. I smiled, ran back to my place, sat down at the breakfast table and spread
the letters in front of my eyes. It was mostly junk, a few bills and a 4x6 yellow envelope. I
threw the junk in the trashcan, put the bills away inside the cookie jar, and then opened the
yellow envelope. Wow! A wad of hundred dollar bills along with a small typewritten note
jumped out of the envelope. I scratched my fat balls and then read the note. It said:
Mr. Bravo:
Dr. Stratton and the black notebook are definitely missing. Its imperative that
you find them. These two thousand dollars will cover your services for at least one
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month. Now that youre working for me, move your balls, use your brain and shoot
straight. Get going!
Tatiana Romanova
I smiled, threw the note in the can, counted the money, got up, put the dough in the
freezer, under the codfish, and then prepared me a thick tuna fish sandwich with a cup of coffee.
After that, I did all my -ings and got ready to visit my first lead, the shrink Dr. Helen Bliss. I
picked up the phone book and thumbed through the yellow pages until I found her business
address: Coral Gables Professional Building in Coral Gables. I dropped the book on the floor and
out I went to hunt or be hunted. Whatever.
Downstairs, in Lummus Park, life was rubbing its hands as usual. This time I saw an
older gentleman throwing a grenade into a white limo parked nearby. The car burst into flames
and people started screaming. The old devil just laughed and laughed, while saying, Burn, baby,
burn. So what? Maybe he hates white limos.
I shrugged, grabbed a cab and within two hours I was standing in front of the Coral
Gables Professional Building, a twenty-floor white structure. I walked into the lobby and the big
board showed me where to go: Helen Bliss, M.D., Room 1001. I took the elevator up to the tenth
floor, got out, located the room and went in.
For a moment I thought that I had walked into heaven. The carpet was white; the walls
were covered with pastel paintings depicting a wide variety of small colorful birds, green
meadows, smashing sunsets, and lots of butterflies. The only piece of furniture in the entire room
was a center glass table with a cornucopia-shaped telephone sitting on it. Soft string music filled
the air. What a set-up!
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I kept on looking around to see where the hell the entrance door was. Finally, I perceived
seven white doors carved into the wall facing me. I approached them slowly to make sure I
wasnt seeing things. Yep, they were there all right. The center door was a bit bigger than the
other six doors. I was wondering how to break in when the cornucopia contraption began
humming. I picked it up.
A gentle and soft voice said, Hello and welcome. Were here to help you. Please state
your code letters into the phone and your door will open. Please go into your room, lie down on
the couch and relax. Dr. Bliss will be with you in a few minutes. Thank you. Walk-ins are
welcome, too. All you have to do is state your name and occupation. I will open the door leading
to the reception room for you. Please do come in. Thank you.
I barked into the gadget, Cisco Bravo, college graduate private investigator.
Thank you, the voice said. The center white door opened. I put the stupid phone down
and walked into the reception room. Cozy. Green sofa, matching end tables with corresponding
lamps, a rectangular glass center table with a three-foot tall green stone dolphin sitting on it, and
a green love seat. I sat in the love seat and waited. Within two minutes a figure-eight blonde
came in through a side door. She was pretty, had firm bosom and well-developed calves. Her
shoes were pristine white and so was her starched uniform. Her nametag read, Christine
Schneider, R.N. In her left hand she was carrying a metal clipboard, a red ballpoint pen and a
piece of paper.
I got up and told her, My name is Cisco Bravo, private investigator and I...
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She smiled, patted me on my right shoulder and said, You dont have an appointment. I
know. Its okay. Dont worry about it. Now, would you be kind enough to fill out this application
for me? Ill be right back. She handed me the board, the pen and the application form.
I took the triad from her hand, shoved the board inside the front of my pants, put the
ballpoint pen behind my right ear and squeezed the application form into a paper ball.
Christine looked at me baffled. What in the world . . .?
I threw the paper ball at the dolphin and hit it on the tail. Bingo! I yelled. Then I
flipped my positive in front of her face. As I said, my name is Cisco Bravo, and Im a private
dick, doll. Go tell you boss that I have a message for her from Dr. Stratton. Move it!
She moved her gorgeous buttocks fast, faster and fastest until she vanished through the
side door. I put my id to rest and stayed put.
Three minutes later she reappeared. Dr. Bliss is busy right now with one of her
patients, she said in a very dry tone of voice, but I left her a message on top of her desk. Youll
have to wait. Sit down and wait! Sit!
I put my sardonic smile on my ugly face and said, Sure, sister, sure. But first, let me
make myself more comfortable. Here. And I took the clipboard out of my pants and handed it to
her. This clip is hurting my left testicle, which, as you probably know, hangs lower than my
right one. Maybe, just maybe, thats what makes me sort of unbalanced, know what I mean?
Hahahahahahahahaha! Isnt that funny?
She wrestled the clipboard away from my hand and gave me a triple hard look. You may
be a private investigator, Mr. Bravo, but in my book, youre a very sick person. You may as well
see Dr. Bliss. She specializes in personality disorders. Now, if youll excuse me, I have more
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important things to do. She gave me a disdainful look and disappeared through the side door. I
sat again in the love seat and whistled a happy tune.
Five minutes later, the head shrink sneaked in through the same side door. I saw her
coming toward me and assessed her quickly. She was about forty, short, slim and solemn. Brown
eyes and brown hair to match. White coat, of course. I really couldnt picture her having sex. No
way.
Before she could open her colorless lips, I jumped from my seat, shook her hand and
shouted, Cisco Bravo, private investigator. One of your friends, Dr. Stratton, has disappeared
and Ive been hired to find him. Can you spare a few moments of your time? Diez minutos?
She got rid of my grip and said, Okay, but only ten minutes. Have a seat.
I put my big buns on the love seat and she put her small hindquarters on a leather green
armchair just in front of me.
Okay, whats your story? she said in a flat tone of voice.
The Human Genome Project. Gene splicing. Recombinant DNA. Dr Strattons data
book. Major Owens. It sounds like a telegram but it isnt. Got my drift, doc?
I got it, Mr. Bravo. Who hired you to find Dr. Stratton? His assistant, Tatiana?
Yes, she hired me to find Dr. Stratton, and also told me all about the Genome Project.
Shes extremely worried about Dr. Strattons fate.
She put a half smile on her taut face. I bet she is. Listen, Mr. Bravo, dont let this
woman fool you. She doesnt care a bit about Dr Stratton. All she really wants is to get the data
book, sell it to the highest bidder, marry her boy friend, Sydney Roderick, and then go back to
Russia. She hates the American way of life just like her boyfriend. Major Owens has the goods
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on her. Wake up, Mr. Bravo! Shes using you, you idiot.
I gave her my threatening smile and told her, Just a moment, just a freaking moment.
Let me set you straight. Im not your regular TV gumshoe. Im a Hispanic college graduate
private eye, with a well-established reputation for finding bodies and I dont like people calling
me names. Im sure that you wouldnt like my calling you a pudding-head or calling you a geek
or calling you a shave-tail or calling you a schnook or calling you a sap, would you?
She showed me her false teeth and said, Well, Mr. Bravo, Im sorry. I didnt mean to
offend you. Please accept my apology. Okay?
Thats better, sister, thats much better. Lets continue with our discussion. Has Major
Owens questioned Tatiana?
Chuck, I mean, Major Owens, assigned this case to his nephew, Douglas, a very capable
young agent working his way up. Doug called on Tatiana and talked to her, but she denied
having anything to do with Dr. Strattons disappearance. In fact, she cried a lot. What a ham! She
and Dr. Stratton have been lovers for a while now. She bewitched him. The old fool. Where the
hell could he be?
I ventured my opinion. Maybe too much sex killed him, doc. Hahahahahaha! Dont look
at me that way, doc. Is possible, you know.
She stretched the muscles of her face in a gesture of disapproval. Thats not funny, Mr.
Bravo, not funny at all. Dr. Stratton has a very serious personality problem. Didnt Tatiana tell
you?
No, she never mentioned anything like that. Whats wrong with him? Can you tell me?
The more I know about his personality, the better my chances of finding him, dont you think?
Her angry face returned to normal. Maybe you have a point, Mr. Bravo, she said
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thoughtfully. With one condition, she added, pointing a finger at me. Youre to keep me
informed on anything you find concerning Dr. Stratton and the freaking black notebook. Is that a
deal?
I scratched my voluminous balls and said, Deal, doc.
You see, Mr. Bravo, my specialty is personality disorders. I classify my patients into six
personality patterns
I butted in. Which corresponds to the six doors in the receiving room, right doc?
She lifted her left eyebrow, and then let it drop. Right, Mr. Bravo. When a patient comes
in for treatment, he or she picks up the cornucopia telephone and tells Christine, my nurse, his or
her personality code letter. Christine, in turn, from her officelocated right behind this room
opens the matching door. I schedule my patients in such a way that they never see each other. No
need to embarrass anyone. Now . . .
I let my balls loose and quickly said, Lets talk about puerta numero uno, doctora.
Her eyes hardened and the muscles on her face stiffened. Yes, Mr. Bravo, thats
precisely what I intend to do. Just listen. Door number one is coded CID, which stands for
SCHIZOID PERSONALITY. In this group, I classify the loners of this world, the introverts, and
the dreamers. They are the result of some horrifying childhood experience. They claim that they
hear voices ordering them to wipe out the no-good society. A dangerous bunch. For some
unknown reason, they are very fond of playing golf.
My mouth moved fast. Maybe its because they like to bump-off some balls
underground. Hahahahahahahaha! Huh? Sorry, doc. You go ahead with puerta numero dos.
Her lips tightened in an obvious gesture of displeasure. Listen, Mr. Bravo, I hate to be
interrupted when Im talking, so, Id really appreciate if you had the courtesy to just listen.
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Thank you. Yes, door number two is coded ASP, which stands for ANTISOCIAL
PERSONALITY. This set includes the dropouts, the mailbox vandals, the users of black
beauties, blue devils, Acapulco gold, California sunshine, angel dust, rocket fuels, green dragons,
and the egg-throwers. These people are unable to hold a job for too long and usually have sex
with as many as two hundred partners. You know the outcome of this group, dont you?
I sure do, doc. They get high and then they get low. Six feet below, that is.
Good thinking, Mr. Bravo. I see that youre a smart man. Good for you. Let me move on
to door number three. This one is coded PAP, which stands for PARANOID PERSONALITY.
Persons in this congregation project their hidden anger onto others. Theyre hypersensitive and
go around with a chip on their shoulders. Also, they are unable to get along with anybody. The
worst cases are those with physical defects. For instance, if one of them limps, you shouldnt
stare at him or her for too long, you understand, Mr. Bravo?
Certainly, doc. If he or she has a longer than average nose, you should not invite him or
her to frozen margaritas. Yo comprendo.
I guess you have a point Mr. Bravo. Let me move on to door number four. This one is
coded COMPUTE, which stands for COMPULSIVE PERSONALITY. This community has an
obsession with organization. They spend a lot of time making outlines, calculating percentages,
rewriting profit and loss statements, measuring windows, and even when theyre having sex, they
make
Make sure the damn thing is straight! I yelled.
There you go again, Mr. Bravo, she said in an irate tone of voice. For the last time,
shut up and listen, or Im going to stop talking and then youll never find out whats wrong with
Dr. Stratton. Is that clear?
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I stood up, massaged my towering balls, shifted my penis to me left side and sat down
again. Crystal clear, doc. You go ahead with your explanation. Im all orejas, I mean, ears.
Thats better, she said. Door number five is coded PASSAGE, which stands for
PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE PERSONALITY. This cluster of patients looks docile, but they are
actually ticking bombs. They hate everybody and everythingtheir job, their boss, their friends,
you name it. They take orders for years, until one day, out of the blue sky, they explode and then
all hell breaks loose. They show up at their place of employment armed with a machine gun and
shoot everybody in sight. Then, they sit in front of the building and sing,
I know, I know, I cut her off. Take this job and . . .
She got up from the love seat and waved a finger at me. You wouldnt sing if you knew
that Dr. Stratton had a personality disorder that could lead him to his death.
Is that puerta numero seis doctora?
You damn right it is! she yelled. Door number six is coded BPD, which stands for
BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER. The hallmark of these patients is their propensity
to go on a drinking spree. They usually go to a hotel and check in with a suitcase full of booze
and K rations. They stay shut in for one or two weeks doing nothing but drinking, eating,
sleeping and watching TV. They do not make or accept any phone calls. When the level of
alcohol surpasses the legal limit their personality change extremely fast shifting from intense
anger to overwhelming anxiety to crushing depression and to violent behavior. Thats Dr.
Strattons problem. When he started working on the Genome Project I did a psychological
profile on him and found out about his drinking problem and the effect alcohol had on his
personality. When hes sober hes a brilliant scientist, no doubt about it. But when hes drunk, he
can easily commit suicide or harm anybody nearby. Now you can understand the gravity of this
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situation. So move your tail and find Dr. Stratton for us. Is there anything else you want to ask
me?
Why, yes, doc. Who else knew about his condition?
Only Major Owens. I had to tell him, you know. Anything else?
Why, yes, doc. How about the officials at the University? And his fellow workers?
Didnt they notice his disappearance act?
I dont really know. But remember that as a professor he is entitled to Christmas
vacation, Easter vacation, spring break vacation, summer vacation, Thanksgiving vacation, and
ten days of R&R for every month of work. Plenty of time to go fishing. Anything else?
Why, yes, doc. How do I get in touch with Major Owens? I know hes very busy
plotting and exploiting.
Youre right, Mr. Bravo. She got up, produced a prescription pad and a pen from her
right side pocket and scribbled some numbers on it. Here, she said, tearing off the Rx from the
pad and handing it to me. Call this number and ask for Ginevra. She is Major Owens secretary
and Director of Personnel. Shell fix you up.
I got up, grabbed the piece of paper and put it in my right pocket. Sounds good to me,
doc. I guess this finishes my interview with you.
Yes, Mr. Bravo, but remember to keep me informed of your activities and your findings.
We must find Dr. Stratton. Keep in touch.
You can count on me, I said.
I hope so. Give my secretary your phone number in your way out. Just in case I have to
call you in a hurry.
Sure thing, doc.
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She walked toward the side door, then stopped, turned around, gave me a stern look and
said, And the next time you come to see me, please brush your teeth. You smell like tuna fish.
My God! And she moved her stiff rear end away.
I put my right index fingers inside my mouth, sucked it for ten seconds, pulled it out and
smelled it. It was tuna all right. So what? I said out loud. It could have been chicken liver.
Having fun talking to yourself, Mr. Bravo? Christines voice interrupted my smelling
session.
I wiped off my index finger on my hair and looked at her. She was staring at me, her face
taut, and her arms akimbo. Dr. Bliss said that youre supposed to give me your phone number.
And I want my pen back. Give it to me. Now!
I came closer to her. Here it is, doll, I said, snapping the red ballpoint pen off my right
ear and sticking it between her two firm tits. My pen-is bigger and thicker than this one. Wanna
see it? And I unzipped my fly.
She turned around and ran toward the side door. And youd better open the entrance
door or Im going to make mulch out of it, I yelled at her.
She slammed the door shut and I heard a humming sound. I closed my fly and walked out
of the wacky place laughing my big unbalanced balls off.
Having finished my work for the day, I was ready to enjoy my lunch. So I grabbed a taxi,
and after a long while I was back in my neighborhood. I dismissed the cab and stretched my legs
along Ocean Drive until I came across a street vendor selling stew. I ordered me a big bowl of
goat stew, a loaf of Cuban bread and a bucket of Mexican beer and pushed the whole thing down
the tube in six minutes. After that I got up, burped like a goat and marched home singing,
Give me stew,
Give me brew,
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Give me dough,
Make my day,
All the way,
Make my day,
Give me a break.
All the way home, that is. Siesta time. My brain stopped ticking. For now.
?????
Ursula. Alternative medicine for obese people or Is the yellow jacket guaranteed?
Three hours and five minutes later I was sitting on my favorite bench waiting for one
untouchable. I waited patiently for about one hour until finally one girl came over and sat next to
me. I gave her my attention. She was at least six feet tall, was wearing a no-sleeve-melon-color
T-shirt, blue shorts, thick leather black belt and white tennis shoes without socks. Her hair was
peppermint very short and braided, and her eyes were hazel. His biceps were big and so were her
thighs and calves. Her left eyelid was covered with a thick white bandage. She looked to me like
Godzillas girl friend.
Excuse me, sir, she said for openers. I was curious about your cap. Are you
advertising a movie, a TV series, a church revival or what? It so happens that Im a graduate of
The Order and my name is Ursula Welch. Whats going on?
I quickly explained the why of the project, showed her my recorder and she readily
agreed to participate in it. Like this,
Im an alternative medicine advisor for obese people. Since at least 80% of my
classmates in college were grossly overweight and very unhappy, I have decided to share the
secret of my system on how to lose weight with my dear sisters and make them skinny and happy
once and for all. But first let me give you an illustrative example as to why alternative medicine
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for obese people has become so popular. Listen to a typical exchange between a modern day
family doctor and his fat patient.
Doc: Hi, how are you today, Mrs. Smith? Jesus, its hot in here. Im sorry to keep you waiting
but I was talking to my attorney, Gus Rosenberg. Im divorcing my wife and shes trying to take
me to the cleaners, you know, she wants the house, the furniture, the Mercedes, the jewelry, the
mutual funds, and even my brand new set of golf clubs. Freaking bitch!
Patient: Excuse me, doctor, but Im not Mrs. Smith. Im Mrs. Petrocelli. Im here because my
cholesterol is over 400 mg/dl and my weight is over 310 pounds.
Doc: Why, of course, Mrs. Petrojelly. Yes, yes, your cholesterol is going to kill you, right. But
dont worry. Im changing you to a new drug, atorvastatin calcium. It costs more but it will
dissolve your fat like a hot frying pan dissolves soft butter. And it has just a few side effects.
Patient: What kind?
Doc: Well, you may experience a bit of headache, insomnia, skin rash, bronchitis, arthritis,
abdominal pain, dyspepsia, nausea, urinary tract infection, allergic reaction and flatulence. But
dont worry; your cholesterol will go down within six months, and so will your weight. Trust me.
Otherwise you look super. Let me take a look. Oh, yeah. Your skin is shiny, your eyes are bright
and blinking, your ears are in place and without hair, your breast look firm, your respiration is
normal, your heart has a regular beat, and your demeanor is typical of a contented and happy
person. Good. Youre in perfect health, my dear. Come back in six months for a recheck, will
you? See you.
Patient: Thanks a million, doc. Youre precious. Bye-bye.
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Doc: Jesus! Good thing shes gone. She smells like a pregnant sow NURSE! How many more
patients I have to see today? Am I all done? Hallelujah! God bless the freaking HMOs. Im off
to the golf course. Bye-bye.
Need I say more?
Now lets take a look at how many kinds of alternative medicine systems for obese
people are lurking out there?
Chinese acupuncture. In this method a number of skinny and sharp needles are inserted under
the skin of some 2,000 selected points while you read the history of the Tang dynasty (618906). The sharp points of the needles are supposed to stimulate the production of a
mysterious substance, known to the Chinese doctors only as meelinh, that inhibit the
production of fatty tissue, thereby reducing your weight. Thats the theory behind anyway.
Herbalism. This therapy has become very popular in the last five years here in the USA.
From Aloe to Zinnia, herbs are being used to treat obesity. For instance, if youre twenty-five
pounds overweight, chew turmeric leaves (Cucuma longa), save the spit in a tin cup and then
rub the foamy stuff over your hanging belly; if youre thirty pounds overweight, put freshly
slices of papaya leaves (Carica papaya) over your fat neck; and if youre one hundred pounds
overweight, eat bread soaked in garlic juice (Allium sativum) with every meal.
Naturopathy. As the name implies, this method uses natural approaches to cure fat people.
Typical remedies include jogging naked, sleeping on the floor, eating organic food, drinking
plenty of coconut water, and having sex in the backyard under a banana tree.
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Marihuana therapy. This method is used to fight the stress brought about by being fat. Three
butts a day will lower the level of cortisol (a hormone produced by the adrenal glands)
enough to eliminate your mental suffering. Endorsed by the President.
What do I have to say about those systems? Baloney, baloney, baloney, and more
baloney. My method is better, much better. Why? Because I treat the whole fatso, that is, I
treat her discombobulated body, her depressed mind, and her mixed-up spirit. A triple whammy,
so to speak. Needles alone wont do it. Herbs alone wont do it. Organic food alone wont do it.
Drugs alone wont do it. Mary Jane alone wont do it. But my system will. Ill show you how.
Listen.
To treat your discombobulated body I use my patented Yellow Jacket System. Whats
that? Its a yellow jacket just like the ones on board of any jet plane. Strong and sturdy, too. On
the right hand side of the jacket there are three buttons. Button number one is for large frames,
button number two is for medium frames, and button number three is for small frames. Most of
youd probably need to push button number one, which is for persons weighing from two
hundred to four hundred pounds. Okay, so much for technical details. Now, lets see how it
works. Every night when youre ready to go to bed, you put the yellow jacket on and push button
number one. You should feel the jacket growing in size and putting pressure on your ribs. On
and on the pressure will steadily increase until your total lung capacity, which is about six
thousand milliliters, is squeezed out of your bellows. Of course, you will be left with only the
residual volume of air, which is about twelve hundred milliliters, and, naturally, you will start
gasping for air. Gasp, gasp, and gasp. At that point, you will instinctively push buttons two and
three in an effort to deflate the damn yellow jacket, but nothing will happen. You see, the only
way to deflate the damn thing is by flapping your fat arms, up and down, down and up, exactly
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thirty times. If you stop, the goddamn yellow jacket will start inflating again. Youve got to flap,
flap, flap thirty times, or else you will suffocate and die. Its that simple. Do or die. The jacket is
guaranteed to make a fat person lose three to five pounds per session. In addition the impending
sensation of dying is so great that you wont be able to eat anything for two days. A loss of
another two pounds. So, if you use the damn yellow jacket only once a week, youll probably
lose about five to seven pounds per week. In six months youll be able to slip into one of those
skimpy bikinis and look slender and fit. To purchase the yellow jacket send a money order for
$500.00 at the following address: PO Box 007, Miami Lakes, Fl 33014.
A sure thing. Trust me.
Now, to treat your depressed mind here is my advice:
Go shopping at the nearest mall. Buy a square frying pan, Part I and II of Don
Quixote de la Mancha, a Chihuahua dog, a Mexican sombrero, a Spanish-French
dictionary and a Samurai sword. Charge everything, go home, and return
everything the following day.
Go to every wedding in town and steal a couple of wedding gifts.
Go to a French restaurant and ask for Cuban bread and black bean soup.
Go to a high school graduation and give Italian liras to the graduates.
Go to the hospital and park your car in the doctors reserved spots.
Get the idea? Do funny things and youll kick the blues away. If they catch you, pretend
youre a foreigner and they will smile and forgive you. Have fun!
And finally to treat your mixed-up spirit all you have to do is say your prayers every
night. Like this,
Life is a joke,
Money is everything in life,
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Take care of yourself first,

Dont give a damn about others,
Sex without love is the only way to bodily satisfaction,
When you die, you die.
End of the triple whammy, dear sisters. Follow them and youll be happy forever after.
You can bet on it.
Excelente, excelente, Ursula, I said, pretending to be excited. The fatsoes are going to
eat your story up. Tell me, do you follow your own advice?
Absolutely, she said. I use the yellow jacket twice a week, do pranks every day and say
my prayers every night.
I believe you, Ursula, you certainly look fit not fat. I only have one question: what do
you mean when you say that sex without love is the only way to bodily satisfaction?
She flexed her biceps and said, See this? This is sex without love. A good punch on the
nose is better than a good kiss on the mouth. I like to punch and be punched. Thats why I live
with Andy KO Shatzeburger, a one-time contender to the heavy weight crown. We met at his
gym on Liberty City when I was still a virgin and we hit it right off. Left hooks to the head, body
punches to the flanks, uppercuts to the chin, right hand to the chin, you name it. I enjoyed his
punches and he enjoyed mine. After five minutes I surrendered my chastity. He had five
ejaculations and I had five orgasms. Since that day, it has been all punches and no love for both
of us. So, sisters, get yourself a boxer and let him use you as a punching bag and then have all he
sex you crave. There. Did you like my story?
Like it? I love it. I must say that you know how to make a man happy, Ursula. Okay,
thank you very much for your cooperation. Ill send you a copy of the book at your PO Box in
Miami Lakes, okay?
Bye-bye, she said, punching me on my shoulder.
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I smiled, put my recorder in my pocket, got up and consulted my hunger neurons as to
what kind of food I should eat tonight and they told me to go Italian. Good choice, I told them,
and walked north for a while until I found myself in front of Dantes Italian Eatery.
I strolled in, and grabbed the first empty table I saw. A waitress came to my table and I
ordered a large salad with extra tomatoes, vinegar and oil for dressing, a loaf of garlic bread, and
a bottle of Chianti wine. She nodded, said Grazie, and left.
I looked around me and smiled at the flock of happy tourists slurping spaghetti, talking
with their mouths full of meatballs, and drinking Chianti wine straight from the bottle. Way to
go, animales! I yelled.
My waitress suddenly appeared with my salad and my wine. Did you call me, sir? she
asked me.
No, I was talking to an acquaintance of mine, I said casually. She shrugged, put my
order on the table and left. I dug into the oily stuff and ate and drank and drank and ate until I
could see my ugly face in the bottom of the plate. I winked at my reflection and let out a small
burp. I felt good.
A fat girl sitting to my left winked her big left eye at me, opened her legs and showed me
her white panties. I looked the other way and summoned the waitress to my table. She came
pronto. This time I ordered a plate of cannelloni a la Neapolitan, a plate of fettuccine a la
Romana and another bottle of Chianti. The waitress smiled and left. The fatso across from my
table got up, disappeared for a few minutes and then appeared again carrying a big smile on her
broad face and her white panties in her left hand. She waved the intimate apparel at me, sat
down, opened her legs and showed me her cellulite. I turned my face toward the kitchen until I
saw my waitress coming with my food. She unloaded the steaming stuff down, smiled and left. I
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ate and drank and drank and ate until it was all gooooone! Wow! I whistled at my waitress, paid
my bill and dragged my feet to the lounge for an after-dinner drink. The lounge was empty, so I
sat on the last stool, close to the bartender, and was about to order a brandy when the fat girl
without panties suddenly materialized and slid her enormous behind in the stool next to mine.
She smelled Chianti and garlic juice.
Hia, there, she said hoarsely. I likayou a lota. Whatsa yourname?
I gave her a hard look and spat out, Dante Ghiberti. Im the owner of this joint and I
dont like fat girls. Beat it.
She rubbed her big shoulders against mine and cried out, I knew it, I knew it. Youre my
Dante and Im your Beatrice. I wannascrewyou tonight. I goot a big beda. A waterbeda. Up and
downa, downa and upa. I wannascrewyou tonight amore. Lets have a drinka.
I realized that she wasnt going to go away, so I said, Listen, gorda, Ill have a drinka
with you, but only one. Then you go homa, okay?
She moved her triple chin up and down. Okey-doky. I wanna shot of brandy. Napoleon
brandy. Up.
I ordered two Napoleons. The bartender smiled and served us the two drinks. The fatso
looked at me, grimaced and opened her blouse, Superman style. Her two tits sprang forward like
two air bagsbang! bang! I stared at them. They were bigga, pinka and kinda pretty.
She offered me the two balloons. You closa your eyes, pretenda yourababy and
suckamytitas.
I grabbed her glass, drank her Napoleon in one gulp, said, Whattthehella and proceeded
to suck her titans with my mouth wide open and my eyes dilated. They tasted like salty soft
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bread. I sank my teeth into them and she started bouncing on her seat. I kept on sucking her titas
until she started singing, O Sole Mio or something like that, I dont know. All I know is that
after five minutes of singing, her fat, sweaty, smelly body shook one, twice and thrice and then
fell off the stool and down to the floor. She was out cold but had a very satisfying grin on her
moon face.
The bartender glanced at the fatso, looked at me and then said, Whatever happened to
her?
She took a trip from the Gate of Purgatory to the Garden of Eden in thirty seconds, I
said, gulping down the second Napoleon.
Uh-huh, he said, handing me the bill.
I paid the bill, got out, grabbed a taxi and went homa, I mean, home. I undressed, fetched me a
six-pack of beer and turned the TV on the wrestling channel. I laughed and drank until urine
came out of my urethra. I grabbed one of my socks, filled it up with the foamy stuff, got up,
opened the window and let it drop right on the head of a priest who happened to be passing by.
He stopped walking, looked up and said, Thanks, Jesus, I needed that. And kept on walking. I
laughed, closed the window, turned the asinine box off and jumped in the sack. Out for the
count.
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Day 4
The CIA is your Big Brother or Whats TWEP?
The next day I was ready to go by two oclock. I decided to pay a visit to my next lead,
Major Charles Chuck Owens. I looked up the number Dr. Bliss had given me and dialed the
seven digits.
Gallery of Fine Arts, Ginevra speaking. How can I help you? a raspy voice answered.
Yes, my name is Cisco Bravo and Im looking for a painting called Vanished by Dr.
Stratton. Do you have it?
We do, Mr. Bravo. Do you know where are we located?
Under the Miami International Airport? I asked.
She laughed for the next ten seconds, then said, Not really, Mr. Bravo. Go to the
intersection of Coral Way and Le Jeune Road and turn right. Youll see the sign.
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Got you. See you, Gin.
I hung up, had a cup of coffee and out I went. To destroy or be destroyed. Whatever.
Lummus Park was, as usual, extremely busy. An S&L bank was in the process of being
robbed. I watched from a distance as the five robbers came out of the bank, blasted their way to
the getaway car and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. I shrugged. Probably some citizens getting
even with the Savings and Lost Bank. Easy come, easy go, what the hell. I whistled a cab and
within one hour and twenty-six minutes I was in front of the art thing. I paid the taxi and walked
inside the shop. There wasnt anyone around except a female clerk behind the glass counter
talking on the phone. I came closer to the counter and waited for her.
Yes, sir, she was saying, we do carry paintings from the French neoclassical period.
Who? Jacques Louis David? Yes, sir. We do have a copy of Davids Oath of the Horatii. Yes,
yes, we also have a copy of Delacroixs Bark of Dante. Excuse me? Well, I understand that the
term baroque comes from a Portuguese word meaning something irregular in shape, distorted,
grotesque. Right. Youre welcome. She hung up and faced me. What can I do for you, sir?
I recognized the raspy voice immediately and slowly and deliberately gave her my double
eagle look. Pale complexion, sleepy brown eyes, long black crimped hair, square shoulders and
long, long arms. She was wearing a one-piece black dress. Somehow she reminded me of Mona
Lisa.
You can help me find a naked woman, I said. Do you have a copy of Rubens Toilet of
Venus?
She smiled provocatively, walked around the counter and stood two inches away from
my watering mouth. She smelled like a ripe pineapple.
I sure can, Mr.
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Bravo, I announced, looking directly into her defiant nipples. And youre
She put a slender finger on my lips. Ginevra, she said. At your service.
Ginevra, I repeated. Refreshing Italian name. Actually its the name of a juniper tree,
a tree pretty much like you--dark and exciting.
She wrapped her legs around my thighs and said, And ready to be cut down. She
caressed my face with her hot hand and kissed my lips. You know, she said in a very hoarse
voice, I havent felt this excited over a man in a long time. Something about the way you looked
at me. Or maybe its because Im in the middle of my cycle. I dont know. Im confused.
I kissed her meaty lips and told her, And Im horny as hell, Gin. Lets make it in that
corner over there, under Durers Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. You go ahead of me and
wiggle your behind. I like that. Go, go, dont be shy.
She let go of me, turned around and started walking toward the corner where the famous
painting was hanging. I watched her firm buttocks swing from west to east and from east to west.
Hell, Im only human and in a microsecond, I had a humongous erection. I followed her very
closely until we reached the niche.
She did an about-face and said, Here we are, lover. Take me, take me. Now, now!
I took my pants off in a jiffy and dug out one red prophylactic from the side pocket of my
red underwear. Have condom, will gallop, thats my motto, I screamed.
She took the rubber out of my hands and said, I undress you and you undress me,
okay?
Time is wasting, I yelled.
Presto. We were in the buff in no time. She put the condom on me, took a step backward
and gazed at my manhood. I looked at her pubic triangle. For a moment we were both suspended
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in time and space. All of a sudden, all hell broke loose. She kissed, bit, caressed; I touched,
searched, explored. Our bodies clashed and so did our knees. We lost control of our sophisticated
emotions. We became two animals in heat, driven crazy by our hormone secretions.
Tell me something about Durer, I said, playing ping-pong with her nipples.
She managed to say, Durer was a German artist of the sixteenth century. He was
influenced by Leonardo, Bellini and ouch! That was good. Ohh! Do that again. Ohhhh!
I sank my teeth into the dark left shoulder. Blood dripped down her neck.
She cried, Ohhhh! Youre killing me . . . with pleasure. Go on, dont stop. Ouch!
Ohhhhh!
I insisted, How about Durer? Tell me more.
She took a deep breath. Durer, yes, Durer. He became the painter for Charles V, the
Emperor of Spain and . . . ouch! Youve heavy, but I can take it. Go ahead. Ouch! Go on, go on,
you ugly brute. Slow down or youre going to fin . . . dont you dare finish now. Ohhhh! I feel
the big O making waves. Its here, its here! OOOOOOOOOOO!
I switched her body over mine and she rested her head over my perspiring chest. You
know your stuff, Gin, I whispered. Go on, tell me more about Durer.
She shook her black mane and murmured, Yes, Durer, Durer. He was an idiot who never
had sex like this and . . . dont move, please. Let me do it. She put herself in the drivers seat
and went on with her explanation. His wife abandoned him because he spent too much time
painting animals and saints, while she was starving for . . . ohhhhhh! So gooooooood! Can you
hold it?
I sure can, love, I said, tightening my gluteus muscles, shifting my eyes toward the
ceiling and letting my dry mouth rattled, Did you know that a TEC-9 can hold a 36-round
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magazine, has a threaded barrel for attachment of a silencer and can be purchased in front of the
White House for about one hundred dollars?
She never heard a word I said. Her face was congested, her eyes closed, and her hands
kept on pushing my chest. Suddenly, she cried out, Ohhhhhhh! This is it! Its coming! My
second one OOOOOOOOOOOOO!
She collapsed and her forehead hit mine. Action and reaction, you know. My gluteus
muscles went limp and now it was my turn: Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ahhh! Ah!
A moment of silence came upon us. I pushed her body aside and we both lay there, our
eyes fixed on the Apocalypse above our heads. After a while, I looked at her and she looked at
me. Then we burst into laughter. We laughed and laughed. So much fun.
Finally she got up and said, Thanks, lover. You must think that Im a nymph or a sex
maniac, but the truth is that I havent had sex in the last six months. Too much work and too
many wimps around here. When I saw you, something inside me got loose. I couldnt control my
emotions. I just had to have you. Besides, Ive always been a sucker for hairy apessorrymen
like you.
I smiled and she smiled. She was happy and I was satisfied. I got up, took the latex off
and dropped it into a wastebasket close by.
Good, she said. Keep America clean. Shall we get dressed?
We put our garments back on and once again became civilized human beings. She tried to
kiss me and I pushed her aside. Listen, Gin, I think that you know why Im here, dont you?
Of course, she said. Youre a private investigator hired by Tatiana Romanova to find
her missing boss, Dr. Stratton, a scientist working in a secret government project. Dr. Bliss sent
you here to see my superior officer, Major Owens. How am I doing so far?
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I must say that you certainly know how to make your move, Gin. Where is your boss
hiding?
Come over to the counter and Ill let him know that youre here.
I followed her to her post and waited until she finished her low voice telephone
conversation with her superior.
Well? I asked.
She put the phone down, winked at me and pointed to the room in the back of the shop.
Thats the utility room, she said. Go in there, open the fuse box and turn switch number 24
on. Good luck to you, Bravo. Thanks for calling and come again.
My pleasure, Gin, I responded. I let my legs do the walking, got into the utility room,
and did trick number 24. The back door opened up and I stepped in.
A big classroom. Thats the impression I got. A big computer classroom. Two dozen
operators, all male, all with the same short sleeve white shirt, the same black tie, the same crew
cut hair cut and the same computer model were busy pushing buttons. At the very end of the
classroom, there was an enclosed glass office where another man, dressed just like the others,
was talking into a red phone. I figured he was the head honcho, so I marched over. He saw me
and beckoned me to come in. I did.
Operation toothache? he was saying. Yes, sir, certainly sir. Terminate with extreme
prejudice. Yes, sir. And his freaking wife too? No problem, sir. Ill see that she gets the same
treatment. Freaking right, sir, Good-bye, sir.
He put the red devil down and looked at me straight in the eye. I did the same. He was
almost five feet tall, stocky, beefy and kind of unattractive, I mean, his face resembled a road
map, one of his ears was missing, had a bad case of pyorrhea, and his eyes were out of synch or,
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in other words, he was cross-eyed. His nametag read, Major Charles Owens.
Mi nombre es . . . I started to say.
I know who the freak you are, mister, he stated in a thunderous voice. Dr. Bliss told
me all about you. So, Tatiana Romanova hired you to find freaking Dr. Stratton. And you have a
reputation for finding freaking missing bodies. What else is freaking new? Let me tell you,
mister, I dont like freaking civilians involved in my internal affairs. You got that? He banged
his small fist on the red phone, which by a strange coincidence, started to ring. He picked it up.
Chuck here, he said. Operation red star? Yes, sir. They have become a risk? Terminate
with extreme prejudice. Yes, sir. Absolutely. They both drink wine? Easy as freaking apple pie,
sir. Good-bye, sir. He killed the call.
Anyway, like I was saying, mister, I dont like private eyes meddling into my situations.
But now youre in, I mean, you know about the freaking Genome Project and the rest. So, I
consider you my freaking partner, which means Ill help you in any way I can and in return I
expect you to cooperate with me and the agency to the fullest.
A quid pro quo? I said.
What the hell is that? he asked, looking at me with his crossed eyes.
Never mind, I said. Yes, I think thats a fair deal.
Good, he said. Now, what did Tatiana tell you about her relationship with Dr.
Stratton?
She told me that they were colleagues, professional fellow workers and buenos amigos.
Nothing else, I said.
He rubbed his chin and then asked, How about the black notebook? Did she tell you
where it might be?
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I rubbed my balls. No, I said. In fact, shes worried about who might have it now. She
said that the data contained in that notebook is very dangerous in the wrong hands.
Freaking right, she is, he thundered. We have got to get that freaking notebook back,
mister. Our nation is at risk of being contaminated by the virus of 1918. A total catastrophe.
Right youre I said. Were all going to die. Fast, very fast. You know, Major, the only
way out is to design a respiratory mask with N99 and N95 filters capable of stopping the virus
from getting into your nostrils.
His eyes widened. Freaking bright idea! Yes, I heard of those filters. Hey, mister, youre
no freaking stupid, you know. I think were going to get along pretty freaking well. For openers,
Im going to give you some ammunition to go on. Listen carefully. Tatiana is a freaking drug
addict. Shes into cocaine up to her ugly nose. Her supplier is a fellow by the name of Sydney
Roderick, a Sociology Professor at the Institute of Social Research in Hialeah and a drug addict
himself. They met at a seminar on the social changes of the Middle East sponsored by the
Institute and directed by Sydney. It was the classical case of love at first sight. They became
lovers. Of course, Sydney introduced her to the nose candy and pretty soon she was hooked-up.
The problem is that Sydney Roderick is also a MICE. Do you know what MICE stand for,
mister?
I looked at him straight in the eye. Let me guess, I said. M stands for Money; I
stands for Ideology; C stands for Companionship; and E stands for Ego. In other words
In other words, he screamed, hes a freaking double agent! He works for us and he
also works for the hard line Iranian extremists who want to wipe us out. My problem is that I
dont trust Sydney or any other MICE. They are freaking unpredictable. Soooo, I want you to put
a shadow on him, watch his whereabouts day and night and report to me on a regular basis. If by
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any chance he leads to where Dr. Stratton is being kept prisoner, you know what to do with the
freaking MICE, right?
Twep, I answered quickly.
Right, right, he said beaming with satisfaction. One more thing, my nephew, Special
Agent Douglas Owens, is also working on this case, so if your paths cross, get the hell out of his
way, is that understood?
Absolutamente. Youre boss number one and hes boss number two, I said, shaking my
freaking balls with my fingertips.
He looked at my balls in a rather surprised manner. What the hell are you doing,
mister? he demanded.
Nothing much, I said. Just making sure my sleepy balls get a little bit of exercise.
Thats all.
He gave me a fierce look. Look here, mister, I dont like jokes, you hear? This is a
serious business; so dont get fresh with me. Im a military man, not a freaking civilian jerk.
When you talk to me, stand at attention, address me by my rank and look at me with both eyes, is
that understood?
I clicked my heels in a military fashion, opened my left eye and saluted him, Hitler style.
Sure thing, jefe.
Thats better, he said. Now get the hell out of here! He pushed a button under his
desk and the wall behind him opened up.
I marched my way out of the freaking place, took a taxi and went back to my territory.
Back on Ocean Drive I headed directly toward my favorite spot, the Ocean Drive Sports
Emporium. I got in and ordered me two dozen of hell hot Buffalo wings and a sixteen ounces
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stein of Mexican beer. Within five seconds I was munching, drinking and watching the 54 TV
screen. They were showing old boxing fights. Muhammad Ali destroyed George Foreman in the
8th, Rocky Marcia no KO Joe Walcott in the 13th, Jimmy Ellis took a fifteen rounds decision over
Jerry Quarry, Larry Holmes put James Smith to sleep for the count in the 12th, and finally James
Buster Douglas KO Mike Tyson in the 10th. I finished my snack, paid, and ran home singing,
Hit the head,
Hit the jaw,
Hit the ribs,
Hit the flanks,
Hit them high,
Hit them low,
End the fight,
With a KO.
I got home, jumped into my couch and passed out into the other world. For a while,
anyway.
?????
Andrea. The ER can be hazardous to your health or Is there a freaking doctor in the
house?
Three hours and six minutes later, I came back to life, rolled out of my couch, put my
bright cap on, my recorder in my pocket, got out of my nest, kicked the door shut and found
myself staring at a dude. He was all dressed up in a gray flannel suit, with button down white
shirt, red silk tie, white handkerchief and black shiny shoes. His hair was light auburn and parted
to the right, his eyes were pale blue and his nose straight. He wasnt smiling so I couldnt see his
teeth but I could see his dry, tight lips. He looked like a mannequin in a funeral home. I put a
surly smile on my face and said, Listen buddy, whatever youre selling, I aint buying, so get
the hell out of here!
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He looked at my cap, took a step forward, looked directly into the white of my eyes and
told me in a shrieking voice, Listen, Mr. Bravo, my name is Emma Hardbutt and I was the legal
counselor of the deceased Dr. John Stratton and his wife Magnolia. Now I represent Benny
Staggard and his wife Bonita, the famous televangelists. Benny and Bonita are to receive Johns
inheritance if, and only IF, Professor Stratton cannot marry a virgin within a month. That cap
youre wearing means that Professor Stratton hired you to find him a virgin and thats why Im
here tonight. I talked to Tatiana Romanova yesterday and she told me all about you including the
fact that she had hired you to find the missing Professor. Its in the interest of my clients that
Professor Stratton keeps out of the picture for thirty days. You follow?
I follow, I said. You want me to stop looking for Dr. Stratton.
For the contrary, she said. I want you to keep on looking for him and if and when you
find him, turn him over to me so that I can take him away, lets say, to the Bahamas for a whole
month.
In other words Ill be working for you, I said.
In a way, yes, she said. Lets look at the matter of money if that is what youre
thinking. Dr. Stratton is an alcoholic and hell blow away all the inheritance in booze and drugs
in one or two years. If he promised you any money, forget it! Alcoholics never remember any
promises. I have dealt with alcoholics before and I know what Im talking about. You wont see
a dirty cooper penny, believe me. On the other hand if you work for me youll receive $100,000
in cash as soon as you deliver Dr. Strattons body. Just imagine, you, a Hispanic, with $100,000.
This is your chance to stop working, go swimming every day, stuff yourself with tortillas and
frijoles for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and get drunk with tequila every night for the next six
months. Your kind of life. Anyway, do we have a deal or not?
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What if I refuse your offer? I said.
She said, Then youll meet Lee KY. Hell be working in this case too just in case you
fail. Youve heard about him, havent you?

I think so. Isnt he a Chinese from Cuba who owns a chain of dry cleaners in Hialeah?
She said, Listen, Mr. Bravo, dont try to be funny with me. I hate jokes. You know Im
talking about the number one Chinese detective in Miami. Lee KY is the grandson of the famous
Chinese detective Chang Li Po. He has a reputation for solving mysteries and also for kicking
the living hell out of the opposition. Triple black belt in Tae Kwon Do. He can break both your
legs with a single kick. He has worked for me before and I know what he can do. So, spare
yourself some pain and accept my offer. Come on; make up your freaking Hispanic mind!
I took a step backwards, grabbed her tinted hair with my left fist and then delivered a
snappy right punch to her chin. Naturally, she rolled down the stairs, hit the last step and lay
still. I came down the stairs, passed her by and spat a big wad of foamy saliva on top of her dry
lips. She opened her mouth, flipped her tongue out, tasted the saliva and then swallowed the
whole ball of bubbles. I smiled and left the premises laughing my bouncing balls off.
Five minutes later I was sitting on my favorite bench waiting for my million-dollar-baby.
Ocean Drive was as busy as always and the tourists passed me by in a hurry searching for a
dream that wasnt there. Nobody came close to me and after two hours I got bored. To break the
monotony I decided to sing, so I sang. Like this,
They call me crazy,
They call me bad,
They call me caca
They call me cad,
They call me selfish
They call me brat,
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They call me beastly,

They call me rat,
Well, I tell you all,
To kiss my ass!
I repeated my tune over and over until finally a woman broke ranks from the maddening
crowd and approached me.
Pardon me, she said, can you tell me why you are wearing that cap? Your irreverent
singing doesnt do any credit to my alma mater. Or maybe youre sick. Well, Im a doctor. Can
you tell me what your problem is? Maybe I can help you.
I looked at her up and down, and down and up. She was closer to her thirties than closer
to her twenties, wore grannys glasses, and was wearing a sassafras dress with sneakers to match.
Her face was oval, her ravioli-color hair was long on the left side and short on the right side, and
her tits were looking directly to the shining moon. She looked to me like a papaya at the end of
July.
Sit down doc, and Ill explain what this is all about. She sat down, I explained my
intentions, she concurred and then and then sang her song. Like this.
My name is Andrea Wampole and after graduation from The Order, I went to medical
school in Cleveland. I shared a rented studio one block away from the University hospital with
Holly Bell, a graduate from Indiana University. Holly was one of those persons blessed with a
photographic memory. Give Holly a book, lets say, a Neuroanatomy textbook, and shell take a
look at a given page for thirty seconds and then recite the entire page, like this:
The nervous system comprises the central nervous system and the peripheral nervous system.
The central nervous system includes the brain and the spinal cord. The brain can be divided in
three parts, the forebrain, the midbrain and the hindbrain. The forebrain includes the cerebral
hemispheres, the basal ganglia, the thalamus and the hypothalamus; the midbrain comprises the
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cerebral aqueduct and the hindbrain contains the pons, the cerebellum and the medulla. The
spinal cord is a large nerve cable that extends from the brain to the first lumbar vertebrae. It is
protected by the vertebral column. The vertebral column is composed of thirty-three vertebrae as
follows: seven cervical, twelve thoracic, five lumbar, five sacral, and four coccygeal. The
peripheral nervous system includes the cranial and spinal nerves which, bla, bla, bla, bla.
On and on she recited the page until the last word. No sweat, no pain. Naturally, Holly had
plenty of time to practice his favorite sport-sleeping. However, when the time to do her
clerkship came up, she found himself running, dashing, and hustling through the wards twenty
hours a day, seven days a week. All sweat and all pain. And no time for sport. She thought she
was going to die. Of course she started making mistakes on a daily basis. One day, a boy came in
with a broken index finger and Holly fixed it but in the process broke his thumb. Another day, a
woman came in because she couldnt void. Holly grabbed a catheter and inserted all the way into
her anus. Another day a man came in with a bleeding nose and Holly sewed his mouth instead.
She was really in bad shape. Finally it happened. One night Holly and I were on duty in the ER.
The physician in charge had a severe attack of diarrhea and had to go to the john in a hurry,
leaving us in charge. Everything was quiet for a while. All of a sudden, an elderly man burst into
the ER, his eyes bulging out with fear and his mouth gasping for air.
Im dying, he screamed. Help me, please, help me, for Christs sake. I cant breathe.
Please, please, agffoouughhufff!
Holly stood in front of the dying man and froze stiff. The sob. (short of breath) grabbed
Holly by her shoulders and yelled, Save me doctor, save me, please. Agrraaaahhhhh! And then
he dropped to the floor and lay still.
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The catatonic Holly looked at the fallen body, shook her head in disbelief, looked at me
with blurry eyes and then ran the hell out of the ER.
Luckily, the physician in charge of the ER came back from the john just in the nick of
time, rushed over to the fallen man, checked his mouth and then ordered a metered-dose inhaler
loaded with a bronchodilator. After four puffs, the fallen man sprang up to his feet and said, Im
going to sue you for negligence, you bastards. And he walked out of the ER breathing in and
out.
It took me four hours to find Holly. She was sleeping in her favorite all day/all night
movie house. I had a hard time trying to convince her that the patient was, indeed, alive. It was
a case of occupational asthma, Holly. The man was a visitor to the hospital and some chemical
agents in the air precipitated the attack. Come on, youve got to go back to the hospital. Come
on.
No deal. Holly decided right then and there that she wasnt cut out to be a doctor. This is
not for me, Andrea, she told me. There has to be a better way to make millions and get plenty
of sleep at the same time. Im quitting medical school. Bye-bye.
I didnt hear from her again until four years later when I received a picture of Sister Holly
Bell, the only televangelist who could deliver a sermon without the help of a Bible. The smart
aleck had the whole New Testament memorized! I sent her a prescription for asthma, a twentyfive-dollar gift and a congratulation card. Hallelujah!
Whats the point of the story? The point of the story, dear sisters, is that young interns are
cheaper by the dozen hanging around the ER, overworked and dazzled. So, if you have to go to
the ER for whatever reason, make sure that the doctor on duty is not a young guy/gal who is on
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the verge of collapse. How do you make sure? Look for drooping eyelids, hostile eyes, clammy
fingers and stains of coffee on his or her coat. If that is the case, you should show him/her your
fist and ask him/her to tell you the names of the carpal (wrist) bones. He/she should answer thus:
scaphoid, lunate, triquetral, pisiform, trapezoid, capitate and hamate. If he or she cannot comply
with your request, demand to see another doctor. Try it, it works.
Greeeeat, I said. Thats a very practical advice. I see that youve gone through a lot.
How about men? Whats your wise advice on the art of finding the right guy?
Im glad you asked me that. Yes, I can tell my sisters which is the best way to find the
perfect mate. Listen to the doctors advice. What is it that you gals want out of life? You want to
satisfy your physiological needs, your sociological needs your psychological needs, and your
desire for power. Right? Right! But so is everybody else. So, that means that we all want the
same things. Right? Right! And that creates a state of competition, doesnt it? You bet! And
competition breeds jealousy. And jealousy turns into hatred. And hatred leads to the dissolution
of the marriage vows. Bad, bad, bad. How do you avoid this trap, find the right mate and be
happy ever after? Read my lips.
If youre pretty and athletic, you should marry someone who is ugly and flabby so in this
way you wont have to worry about his going after other women. Besides, if he gets out of
line, you can always beat the gastric juices out of him and set him straight.
If youre a red meat lover, you should marry a vegetarian. Always praise the value of
vegetables and every other week buy him a hard cover book on how to grow lettuce,
avocados, fruits, nuts and grains, things like that. Hell spend an awful lot of time in the
backyard and you wont have to worry about his going out with the boys. When he gets
horny, make sure you have a jar of virgin honey by your bedside.
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If you have a Ph.D. in the Classics, make sure that you marry a high school dropout. When
an argument ensues, point a finger at him and tell him, Sic ergo nonquantum debeo, sed
tantum queo, memor pasionist tuae ut pecator viveret. Cur o anima mea, and no sex for one
month. He will gracefully agree with you.
If youre extremely rich and greedy, then you should marry an Economics major who
believes in Karl Marx dogma. Whenever he asks you for money, you should take out Marxs
Paris Manuscript and read him the following paragraph: The less you drink beer, the less
you go to the football games, the less you go to French restaurants, the less you gamble, the
less you take vacations in Europe, the better youll feel. Money is bad for you. It transforms
fidelity into infidelity, love into hate, and virtue into vice. He will bow his head and
acknowledge such wisdom.
Get the point, dear sisters? Happiness in marriage is obtained by tying the knot to
someone who has opposite values as yours, someone that doesnt create a state of competition,
jealousy or hatred toward you. Get it? How about sex? How about it? If he feels that sex is a
dirty thing, have sex under the shower! Thats what I did. And thats why I have an eightbedroom, eight-bathroom home. Try it, it works! End of my free advice. Well, how did you like
my real-life experience, Mr. Bravo?
Maravilloso! Your copy will be ready next month. Just call your alma mater bookstore
and request a free copy. And thank you very much for your cooperation.
She got up, shook her well-formed rear entry and walked away from me.
I also got up, put my recorder away, shook my Cyclopean balls and walked away from
the bench and toward the next street vendor. I ordered me a double ration of pigs feet, twelve
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brain fritters and a pitcher of Mexican beer. I ate the whole thing standing by the curb until the
last piece of brain was gone. I burped like a hog, walked back to my home, got in, undressed,
fetched a six-pack of beer from the fridge, sat in front of the TV set and clicked the movie
channel on.
They were showing one of the old westerns directed by Cecil Bozo Miller. The hero
was tall, good-looking, had blue eyes, and a poker face. He rode a white horse that seem to
understand cowboy English and never got tired of running down and up the hills. The villain was
fat, had a dirty twisted moustache, and black eyes. He was surrounded by a dozen hired guns that
spent all of their time in the cantina playing cards and cracking dirty jokes. The girl was prudish,
skinny, had big green eyes, a narrow waist, didnt talk much and lived with her old rich dad in
his huge hacienda. Naturally, the villain wanted to kill the old man, get the hacienda and get the
girl. And naturally, the hero wasnt going to let him do that. For the next hour and a half, it was
all-downhill, that is, the bad guys chased the good guy and the good guy killed them all with his
six-shooter. Wow! What a spoof! I laughed and drank and drank and laughed until the last scene
finally came up. I watched in fascination.
Bad guy: This is it, Slim. This town is not big enough for the two of us. Draw!
Good guy: Youre right, fatso. But before I kill you, you ought to know that my name is not
Slim, but Jesse James, the fastest gun alive.
Bad guy: I was only kidding, Jesse. You can have the hacienda, the girl and the cows. Im going
to Tucson to start a new life anyway. They tell me that they need a whorehouse badly. Adios,
amigo.
Good guy: I was only bluffing, amigo. Do you need a partner?
Bad Guy: What about the girl? The hacienda?
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Good guy: Shes too skinny for my taste. Besides, shes dumb. All she does is flip her
eyelashes. As far as the hacienda, who needs it? I dont want to spend the rest of my life smelling
like a cow.
Bad guy: Hey, youre right! No wonder she never got married! And she does smell like a cow!
Lets get the hell out of this silly town!
Good guy: What are we waiting for, amigo? Vamonos! And they rode in the sunset.
I laughed my titanic balls off, finished the six-pack, turned the dimwit machine off, went
to my closet, put my white hat on, went to the bathroom, took a loooooong piss, raced toward my
bed, and jumped into it. Yiiippiiii! I yelled, and fell asleep fast, my left hand holding my two
mighty balls and my right hand holding my shrinking gun
Day 5
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Questions and no answers or Do you wakarimusi?
The next morning I was up by six oclock in the stupid morning, got dressed in a jiffy,
ran out of my apartment, dashed to the nearest bus stop and stood there watching the throng of
zombies going to work. I yelled at them, Be happy in your work! After the last moron had
disappeared, I ran back to my home, undressed, and jumped back into my warm bed. Cool.
I woke up again by three oclock, got up, did my -ings and drank a tall glass of
unsweetened grapefruit juice for breakfast. Good stuff. I was ready to go to work. I decided to
pay a visit to Tatiana to clarify some points concerning Sydney and his future plans. So, out I
went, to butcher or be butchered. Whatever.
Down in Lummus Park, Life was grinding its wheels as usual. A whore was showing her
navel to an old timer. He nodded, satisfied and she dragged him away. So what? Maybe hes
impotent and she has to work overtime. I shrugged and flagged down a taxi.
The cab screeched its tires to a stop and the rough-looking driver told me, Are you
calling me? Are you calling me?
Yeap, Im calling you, pal, I told him. Sherman Building on
Hey, pal, dont tell me what to do, okay? Get in and dont talk to me, okay?
I got in and thirty minutes later he delivered me in front of the Sherman Building. I paid
him and he gave me a disdainful look. Sherman was a queer, you know that? he said, and
drove away, laughing his head off.
I smiled, turned around and looked at the building. It was a three-story, gray, ugly thing.
Nothing unusual. I was about to enter the dwelling when somebody bumped me from behind and
almost made me fall down. I turned around and saw a man sprawled on the dirty street, his face
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down, his nose dripping blood and his senses out of touch with reality. I walked over to the poor
bastard, turned him over and slapped his face.
Hey, pal, wake up! I shouted.
He moaned, opened his beady eyes and said, Ah, ah, ah, what?
I slapped him again and more blood came out of his two breathing holes. Whats the
idea? I said kind of mad.
His eyes focused on me. Whats the idea? What the hell do you think youre doing? he
yelled back at me. Whoever gave you the right to go around hitting people? Who? I bet youre a
freaking cop!
I slapped him again. You pushed me, pal, thats why. And I dont like being pushed. Get
it, pal?
Sorry, he apologized. I slipped on a piece of avocado and lost my equilibrium.
Okay, pal, on your feet, I said, helping him up. He stood up, still a bit shaken. I gave
him a quick visual check. He was in his fifties, bald, fair, fat, flabby and foul. His brown suit was
straight from the Salvation Army. I thought he resembled a high school principal with a bleeding
nose.
Its this goddamn city, he said, touching his nose. They dont clean the goddamn
streets the way they should. All they do is steal money from the taxpayers. As I said, Im sorry.
My name is Ira, Ira Bloom, he said, extending his right hand.
I shook his small hand. Cisco Bravo, I said. And Im not a cop, I added.
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Good, he said. I hate cops. He withdrew his hand and touched his nose again. He
grimaced in pain.
Let me take a look at your nose, Ira, I said. I used to be a Scout Master and have seen
plenty of bleeders. I pinched his nose twice. A-ha! I exclaimed. The epistaxis is coming
from the anterior septum, specifically form the Kiesselbach vascular plexus. No big deal. Some
ice will do the trick. Do you live in this building?
No, he said, taking his handkerchief out of his back pocket and putting it over his nose.
But my girlfriend, Ashi, does. Second floor, apartment 201.
Lucky bastard I am, I muttered under my breath.
What was that? he asked.
I said that youre lucky to be close to her quarters, I answered quickly. She can help
you to stop the bleeding. Is it still dripping, Ira?
He withdrew the handkerchief from his swollen nose and looked at it. Yes, he said with
apprehension. It hasnt stopped. Look at all that blood. My own blood. I think Im getting dizzy.
Oh, oh, oh. Will you . . . He dropped the hankie, rolled his eyes, and fainted in my arms. I shook
my head in disbelief, flipped his body over my right shoulder and trotted up the stairs to the
second floor, apartment 201. The door was closed, of course, so I knocked once, twice, thrice,
but nobody came to my rescue. I tossed the sob. (scare of blood) down on the floor, searched his
pockets, got his keys out and tried them all until the last one clicked in and the door opened. I
picked Ira up, got in, withdrew the keys from the lock, kicked the door shut and got into the
lioness den. It was simple enough. Living, dining, kitchen, and two bedrooms, one to the left
and the other to the right. Nice set-up. I heard voices coming from the left side bedroom. I
dropped Ira on the floor, quietly sat down on the couch and listened to the voices.
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Voice number one: . . . and our own sun is a star, a medium-sized star, as a matter of
fact. Ernestine, what is your definition of nuclear fusion?
Voice number two: Nuclear fusion is the combination of two lighter nuclei to form a
heavier nucleus, with the production of a hell of a lot of burning energy. The suns energy comes
from the fusion of hydrogen atoms and the formation of helium atoms. Its hot in there, thats for
sure, Miss Mishima.
Voice number one: That was good, Ernestine, freaking good. And how about nuclear
fission, Georgiana? How would you define it?
Voice number three: Fission is the process by which a heavy nucleus, like Uranium or
Plutonium, is split into smaller ones. When the nucleus of, lets say, Uranium 238, is hit by a
neutron, the result is two daughter nuclei and many neutrons. This process can keep on going,
establishing a chain reaction that, if not controlled, will become an atomic bomb. This hit-andsplit reaction is similar to the one I get when I hit the billiard balls with my cue. Bing, bang,
bang, bang, bang. Isnt that neat, Miss Mishima?
Voice number one: Right on, Georgiana. Now, Ernestine, what is a Hertzsprung-Russel
diagram?
Voice number two: The H-R diagram is a graph in which the mass of a star is plotted
against its temperature. The position of the sun is in the middle of the H-R graph. However,
within six billion years the sun will exhaust its interior fuel and it will grow to a bright, red star,
called a red giant, and then the position of the sun on the H-R graph will be in the upper right.
After the sun cools off, it will become a very small white body, known as a white dwarf, and it
will then move to the upper left corner on the H-R diagram. Its a new way to predict the
movement of a doomed star. I just cant understand why a benevolent God would make a sun
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that is going to burn itself and in the process wipe out mankind. Freaking incomprehensible.
Voice number one: Probably because God doesnt really give a hoot about you and me,
or the animals, or the fish, or the birds, or the trees. But dont you worry. That catastrophe will
not happen in your lifetime. Any questions? Okay, that concludes our lesson for today.
Tomorrow well study some of the newest fundamental particles, such as meson, leptons,
hyperons, bosons, hadrons and quarks. Sayonara.
Voices two and three in unison: Sayonara, Miss Mishima.
The door of Ashis room opened and two young girls came out. They were in their
twenties, had green hair, blue overalls and black sneakers. They were also very ugly. They
glanced at the snoring Ira and giggled. I gave them the victory sign, Churchill style, and they
nodded, gave the sign back and left. Ashi Mishima now came into view. I gave her my double
eagle check over. She was small, sturdy, scrubbed, serene, shapely and sensual. White one-piece
kimono and no shoes. A Japanese piece of sushi.
She moved her bare feet toward the couch and I got up. She looked at me, looked at the
snoring Ira and then asked me, Whatever happened to him?
He slipped on a piece of avocado right outside this building, fell down and broke his
nose. Before he passed out he told me who he was, and where he was going. By a strange
coincidence this was my destination too.
Are you another member of the CIA looking for Dr. Stratton? she asked.
No, Im not a member of the CIA and yes, Im looking for Dr. Stratton. My name is
Cisco Bravo, college graduate private investigator. I was on my way here to talk to Tatiana
Romanova. I see shes not in. Where can I find her?
She bowed courteously. Please to meet you, Mr. Bravo. Im Ashi Mishima, Tatianas
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roommate. She went to Washington, D.C. with a group of friends from the graduate school, one
of those tours, you wakarimusi?
I understand, Ashi. Can I ask you a few questions?
Shitsumons? Of course, Mr. Bravo. Go ahead, ask me the four Ws, you know, dari,
nane, doko and itsudesuka.
Arigato, Ashi. Who are Tatianas best friends, other than you?
Students from the graduate school and her English tutor, Sydney Roderick. Thats about
all.
What kind of a girl would you say Tatiana is?
Very sensitive, very smart and very shy. My best friend.
Where does she like to go in her free time?
Orthodox church, museums and movies. Westerns, you know.
When was the last time you saw Tatiana and Dr. Stratton together?
Immediately after Tatianas birthday, about ten or fifteen days ago. He took her to
Niagara Falls for the day.
Arigato very much, Ashi. Youre a big help. Excuse me, but can I use your bathroom?
My bladder is full and Im having a painful erection, see? and I pointed to my fly.
She looked down to my fly. I see, she said. Of course. Go ahead. Use mine. Its the
one on the left.
I started walking to her room, then, suddenly, darted right, toward Tatianas bedroom. I
got in and snooped around. I didnt see anything extraordinary, just the usual bed, dresser,
armoire, computer desk and closet. On the wall right over the computer desk there was a picture
of Tatiana and Sydney Roderick. An odd couple. She was ugly and he was handsome. All of a
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sudden I sneezed and a little bit of urine dripped out from my urethra. I hurried to the john.
Wow! It was immaculate, smelled like roses and it even had a bidet in one corner. Perfect. I
dropped my pants, sat on the bidet and rested my case. What a relief! I turned the water spigot on
and got my cherry, my big balls and my purple glans wet. Refreshing. I shut the water off, got
up, put my pants back on and returned to the living room. Ashi was sitting on the couch watching
over the snoring Ira. I sat next to her.
Sorry about that, Ashi, but when you have to go, you have to go, right?
She smiled, Japanese style, and said, Hai. No need to apologize, Mr. Bravo. You went
into Tatianas room to look around. Just like Mr. Douglas Owens, from the CIA. He did the same
thing you did.
You mean he tried the bidet too? I said quickly.
She let out a Japanese giggle. Youre funny, Mr. Bravo. No harm done. Its okay. Any
more shitsumons?
Only a couple more, Ashi. Tell me, how does Tatiana get along with Ira? He seems to
have a bad temper. After all, hes your boyfriend and I assume he spends a lot of time here with
you.
They get along very well, Mr. Bravo, very well indeed. Ira speaks fluent Russian and
Tatiana loves to talk to him in her native tongue. Ira is a nice guy, believe it or not, but hes had
his share of personal tragedies and has soured quite a bit.
What happened to him? I said.
Well, his wife died of ovarian cancer while in her twenties and then, Ira, his only son,
was killed in Iraq. He blames the government for sending those kids to a losing war. A real
tragedy.
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I can understand that, Ashi. Tell me what does he do for a living?

Hes a full Professor at the FIU Graduate School. He teaches experimental nuclear
physics, solid state detectors, medical physics, fluid mechanics, and air and noise pollution
control.
Im impressed, Ashi. How about you? What kind of work do you do?
Im writing my thesis on experimental nuclear physics under Iras supervision. To make
ends meet, I teach undergraduate courses in physics and math.
And how about Tatianas boyfriend, Sydney Roderick? I said.
You know about him too? Never mind. Sydney is crazy about Tatiana and wants to
marry her, and Tatiana feels the same way toward him. She told me so.
Did she also tell you about the kind of work she was doing with Dr. Stratton?
Mocheron, I mean, of course. After all, were roommates. Girls like to talk to each
other. Hai, I know all about the Genome Project, the data notebook and I also know about Dr.
Stratton disappearance.
I see that youre up to your ears into this caper, Ashi. Now, how about Ira and Sydney?
How did they get along?
They get along pretty well.
You dont say. What do they have in common?
Well, Sydney is a political science Professor and is always writing articles against, what
he calls, the disguised dictatorship of the U.S. government. Ira likes that. I, personally, never
liked Sydneytoo radical in his views. In fact, Ira and I have had several arguments on account
of Sydney.
Right, right, I said. And how long have you and Ira been lovers?
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She never batted an oblique eye. Weve been lovers for about a year now. Youd be
surprised how sexually inclined he is.

Yeah, right, I said. He looks like an angel and rota-ruta like a devil. Okay, Ashi,
arigato very much. Sayonara. I got up and out of the lovers nest, grabbed the first taxi I saw
and within the hour was back in my sphere of action.
I walked south on Ocean Drive for about twenty minutes until I found myself staring at
Nicks Original Greek Cuisine, a small restaurant in the proximity of South Beach Park. I
consulted my hunger neurons and they told me to go for it. I strolled in. The dining room was
empty at that time of the day, so I picked a nice small table by one of the windows facing the
street. Nice view.
A dark, skinny waitress came by my table and handed me a fake smile and a dirty menu. I
gave her the oily cardboard back and told her to bring me a Greek salad with everything on it
tomatoes, romaine lettuce, green peppers, onions, feta cheese, anchovies, black olivesa bottle
of Domestica wine and a loaf of bread. She said, Efharisto, and left.
A young couple came in, arm in arm, laughing and kissing, oblivious to the whole world.
They sat right across from my table and ordered a bottle of retsina wine, some feta cheese and
some bread. They looked at me and I gave them the thumb-up sign. They nodded and smiled.
Nice kids. They were dressed alikesame T-shirt, same blue jeans, and same leather boots.
Handsome couple. And obviously in love. He kissed her passionately, bit her lips and gave her
some of his saliva. She swallowed his foamy stuff, kissed his neck and bit his right ear. He
caressed her right nipple and she put her right hand over his fly. He whispered something into
her left ear and she . . .
The curtains came down when the skinny dark waitress suddenly appeared by my table.
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Here is your food, sir, she said, arranging the grub in front of me. Salad, wine, homemade
bread and some free Greek-style potatoes from Nick. Enjoy, enjoy. And did an about-face and
left.
I looked up at the checkout counter and saw a fat man with lots of black hair and a big
black mustache. He was wearing an open neck dirty shirt. Efharisto, Nick, I yelled.
The fat guy looked at me and then yelled back, So, whats a few potatoes for a new
customer? Enjoy them.
I smiled and turned my attention to my food. It certainly looked enticing. I wasted no
time and used my spoon as a shovel to push all the goodies down my gullet. Salad, bread, wine
and potatoes. Wine, salad, potatoes and bread. Over and over, until I could see my white teeth in
the bottom of the oily plate. I had a big last gulp of wine, and then let out a big burp, teenager
style, Oaaaaaaaaaaaaaaoooooughaaaa! Ahahaoahoaaa!
The young lovers laughed and so did Nick. I waved at them and then sat back and
massaged my belly. I felt good and ready to go, so I looked the waitress up, but she was nowhere
in sight. I left a dollar on the table and headed for the checkout counter. As I passed by the young
lovers, I told them, Carry on, kids.
They got the message. The young man sprang from his seat like a rubber man and hit me
with a karate chop right between my shoulder blades. I arched my back in pain. His lover came
around the table and followed her sweethearts ill intentions with a vicious kick to my balls. I
instinctively put my hands over my crotch and yelled, What the hell?
The young boy came from behind me and punched me behind my ear. I twirled like a top
and fell down on my back. His lover moved fast and yanked my rod out of my holster.
He yelled at her, Shoot the bastard through his head, Soraya!
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She cocked the piece and was ready to send me to the devils habitat when Fate came to
my aid in the form of fat Nick. He rushed to the scene swinging a baseball bat and screaming,
You furking hoodlums leave my customer alone! He hit her across the chest and him on his
right shoulder. Action and reaction. She dropped the gun and crashed against the nearest table;
he spun like a chicken with his head cut off and finally bit the dust. Fat Nick couldnt stop his
momentum and kept on moving like a train without a conductor until he hit his head against the
wall. Bang! He was out for the count.
I let go of my balls, did a somersault and landed upright by the couple of furking
hoodlums. She got up, rushed me and tried to kick my balls again. I took a step backwards and
hit her with a beastly double left hook to her chin. She collapsed. Her furking lover stood up, a
strange smile on his face and an ice pick in his right hand. Your gut is mine, Mr. Private Eye,
he said hoarsely, and he circled me in a slow and menacing motion. I moved away from his pick.
He thrusted and I jumped; he plunged and I hopped; he poked and I leaped, until he let his guard
down for a second. I immediately took advantage of the situation and let him have my famous
throat kick. Crack! My pointed shoe cut through his thyroid gland, his trachea and his adjacent
cartilage. He dropped the ice pick, clasped his throat with his two hands and tried to talk, but no
audible sound came out of his shredded voice box. Blood started dripping down his chin. He
staggered his eyes as big as two billiard balls. Ughhhhh, aghaghagh, oghahahaghahah, he
uttered. I kicked him again, this time over his breastbone. He pitched forward, hit the floor, made
a couple of jerking movements, and then lay very still. D.O.A. I looked around for his dear
Soraya, but she was nowhere in sight. I guessed that she didnt like my kicks. Good for you,
furking baby, I said out loud, and turned my attention to fat Nick who was coming to.
Are you all right? I asked him.
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He got up and said, Its $15.95, tax included, sir.

I smiled and gave him a twenty. You can keep the change, Nick, and thanks for saving
my life.
It was nothing, he said, putting the twenty in his back pocket.
I pointed to the lifeless body of the furking hoodlum. Have you ever seen him before?
He crossed himself, Orthodox style. Never in all my life. Are you a cop or something?
I flipped my badge. Bravo, CIA. High echelon case coded, The Colombian
Connection. I believe that those two were members of the Bogota cartel. But dont tell anybody.
Classified information, you know. And I flung my I.D. into my pocket.
He nodded, picked up his baseball bat and said, Dont you worry, Mr. Bravo. I wont
say nothing to nobody. Isnt that a shame? Instead of going to school to teach, all they do is pot
and sex and sex and pot. Arsholes!
Youre right, Nick, I agreed. The whole country has gone to potliterally. Come on;
lets see if we can find out who he is.
We approached the crumpled body and when we got to the stiff, I knelt down and frisked
him. I found only a couple of twenty-dollar bills in one of his pockets and nothing else. Here,
Nick, I said, handing him the forty dollars. He wont need them anymore.
Nick grabbed the dough and put it in his back pocket. Thats right. They never paid for
their meal.
The skinny waitress came out of nowhere and said, Excuse me, sir. Here is your gun. I
found it under one of the broken tables.
I picked my heater up, kissed it, and then put it back in its nest. Thanks, doll. My baby,
you know.
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Nick pushed the waitress aside, kissed his baseball bat and said, I know how you feel,
G-man. Thats your baby and this is mine. You shoot and I hit, right?
Thats right, Nick, I said. By the way, I hope you have insurance. This place is a
wreck.
Nick smiled broadly. I sure do, he said. In fact, this place was overdue for a face lift.
Let the furking insurance company pay for the damages. I have plenty of witnesses, right, Gman?
You can count on me, Nick, I said.
He scratched his head. Only one thing, G-man. Who will take care of the furking body?
I turned to the waitress, snatched a menu from her filthy apron and pulled out a piece of
paper and a yellow pencil from her untidy hair. She looked at Nick and Nick looked at me. I
scribbled on the menu Dr. Blisss address and then gave the menu to Nick. Send the stiff to this
person. C.O.D. Shes our furking coroner. Efharisto again, Nick. See you.
I walked out of the Greek ruins.
CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! CRASH! I heard behind my back. I
didnt have to turn around to see that Nick was putting his baby to good use. I walked home and
dropped my aching body into my couch. Siesta time.
?????
Dr Rutherford. The fight or flee reaction or Is that why your clitoris shrunk?
Three hours and ten minutes later I came back to reality. I rolled out of my couch, put my
bright cap on, my recorder in my pocket, got out of my nest and walked over my personal bench.
The throng passed me by laughing, screaming, and snorting coke. I shrugged and waited
patiently until forty-five minutes later a girl separates herself from the hedonists and trotted
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toward me. She was about five feet tall, about thirty or thirty-two or may be thirty-five, had hazel
hair, fair skin, and was wearing oval clear glasses. Her nose was pointing toward her left cheek
and her lips were colorless. Her sturdy body was covered with a white dress and her moccasin
feet were covered with white sneakers without socks. She looked to me like a leghorn hen with
glasses on. She sat next to me and told me that she was a graduate of The Order and inquired
about the cap. I told her my purpose and showed her my recorder and she agreed to take part in
the project. Like this,
My name is Dr. Ruth Rutherford and Im a Clinical Psychologist. After my bachelors,
I did four years of graduate work in Psychology at Washington University, one year internship in
a mental facility in New York City and another year in Vienna Stress Institute under the
supervision of Hans Selye III the foremost authority on stress. After that I came back to the
States and set up my anti-stress clinic in New York. Since stress covers so much ground I
decided to specialize in fear-induced stress in its two most common forms, the rational fear or
fear induced by statistical facts and the irrational fear or phobias. I know that my sisters of The
Order suffer from both and thats why I want to tell them how to deal with these two demons.
Here we go.
The most common example of the rational fear is fear of being assaulted by a band of
thugs, especially at night. And its no wonder. According to FBI statistics we have:
one murder every twenty-five minutes,
one forcible rape every six minutes,
one assault and battery every nine seconds,
one maimed person every twenty-two seconds,
and one paraplegic every ten minutes.
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A horrifying picture, no doubt. Whats a girl supposed to do when confronted with a band of
young delinquents? Flee or fight? Ill tell you what to do. But first let me give you an
introduction on Human Physiology so you can fully understand my advice. The major systems of
the body are: the skin system, the skeletal system, the muscular system, the respiratory system,
the cardiovascular system, the digestive system, the urinary system, the lymphatic and immune
systems, the nervous system, the endocrine system and the reproductive system. The nervous
system and the endocrine system are called the control systems of the body. Why? Because they
control the secretions of hormones. How? By way of the Hypothalamus (H) and the Pituitary
gland (P). Whats H and whats P? H refers to a part of the brain located at the base of the skull
and P refers to a very important endocrine gland that sits below the H. The two formations are
connected by a little stalk of tissue, sort like an umbilical cord. Now, when a stressful situation
occurs--such as being attacked by a band of ruffians--the H picks up the disturbance, gets all
excited, and passes the stimulus to the P, which, in turn, sends a signal to the target gland. Which
target gland? There are many, you know, like the thyroid gland (located in your neck), the testes
(you know where they are), the ovaries (you also know where they are), and the adrenal glands
(located on top of the kidneys). In your case the adrenal glands are the target glands. When the
adrenal glands get the signal from the P, they react by releasing a hormone called adrenaline into
your blood stream. Wooooooooossssshhhh! Result: your body undergoes a series of successive
changes, thus,
your hair stands up, way up,
your pupils grow wiiiiiide,
your guts get tight,
your penis/clitoris shrinks,
your breathing gets heavier,
your heart beats like a drum,
your feet get cold, and
you get the shakes.
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You just stand there, paralyzed. What to do? Well, you either turn your back to the
ruffians or run the hell out, or you make a stand and get ready to fight. If you choose to fight,
chances are that youre going to be beaten to a pulp by the felons, and if you decide to flee,
chances are that youre going to be overrun by the faster hoodlums. What to do then? Ill tell you
what to do. You put a sad face and say, You guys want my money or youre going to beat me
up, right? What else is new? Listen, chums, I have nothing to live for. My boy friend left me last
week with my best girl friend, my GPA is below 1.5, my daddy is kicking me out of the house,
and even my college friends dont want me around. Why? Because I have the plague. Yes, the
bubonic plague of 1348. Last month I went to Venice for a couple of weeks vacation and while
taking a ride in a gondola, got bitten by a rat flea carrying Yersinia Pestis, the bacteria
responsible for the disease. Confirmed by the laboratory. My blood is poisoned and my lungs are
loaded with the deadly critters. Let me show you a sample of my saliva. Arrrrrrrrrggghh!
Arrrrrrrgggghhh! See it? In the palm of my hand? See the bubbles? Yersinia Pestis galore. You
want my money? Hahahahahah! Money is nothing, nothing! See this twenty-dollar bill? See how
I lick the edges? Huuuuuuuuummmmmm! Just like a certified letter. Want a sample of my
droplets? Come closer. Arrrrrggghhh! Arrrrrrggggghhhh! I can kiss you the same way I kissed
that dollar bill. See? Come and get it. Within two days youll suffer from intense headache,
painful muscle ache, and, worst of all, dozens of black pustules in your groin. You may die if not
treated promptly with streptomycin, and even if you live, like me, youll suffer from plague
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pneumonia, which will kill you within three months. You want my money, come and get it!
Arrrrrgggghhhhghghg! Arrrrrrrghghghgaa!
Try this method, dear sisters, and youll never have to worry about being robbed and
beaten by a band of rogues. Of course, if you cant muster enough courage to deliver a bluff like
that one, then you should go to an Army surplus store and buy a Hells Wallet which is a small
wallet made of special plastic explosive and which you carry inside your purse. When threatened
by a group of outlaws, all you have to do is take the wallet out, activate it by rubbing it with your
fingers and then throw it to your attackers. Boom! Boom! Boom! After the dust settles, call 911
and tell them that there are some human bones lying on the street. Hang up and laugh your head
off for about five minutes. Result: the stress is all gone and youll be yourself again. Try it, it
works. Okay, so much for that fear.
Lets move on to the second most common fear suffer by my sisters, and that is, irrational
fear or phobias. Phobias represent an irrational fear of a particular object or a strange situation.
They are classified in three groups: Panicophobias, social phobias, and simple phobias.
Panicophobias are synonym with panic attacks, like the one a person suffers when he/she is in a
long tunnel; social phobias are associated with social events, like a wedding for instance, and
simple phobias are the most commonly known phobias like acrophobia or fear of heights,
claustrophobia or fear of closed spaces, ophidiophobia or fear of snakes, nyctophobia or fear of
dark rooms, and gynophobia or fear of naked bodies. To treat these phobias I use a method I call
systematic desensitization. In order to overcome the fear of long tunnels, a person should travel
the tunnel between France and England twice a day for a whole summer; to conquer the fear of
weddings, a person should go to Las Vegas and be a witness to a thousand weddings; to get rid
of the fear of heights, a person should have dinner in a restaurant located on top of a very tall
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building like the Empire States Building for two years; to prevail over the fear of closed spaces, a
person should go on vacation and ride the hotels elevator twenty times a day for nine months; to
defeat the fear of snakes, a person should buy a battery-operated snake and sleep with it for a
year and a half; to subdue the fear of dark rooms, a person should go to the movies every night
for a year and finally to tame the fear of naked people, a person should join a nudist colony for
life. There you have it. End of the advice. Well, Mr. Bravo is that good enough for your
directory? Are you satisfied?
Not quite, Dr. Ruth, not quite. How about coitusphobia? How do you handle that?
Easy. First let me inform you that coitusphobia is exclusively present in women. To
master the fear of coitus a woman should never use any kind of underwear. When she meets a
man she likes, all she has to do is show him her pubic hair. As you know pubic hair is the biggest
turn on for most normal men. The more hair the better. Show you. And she got up from the
bench, faced me, and pulled her dress up to her chin. I found myself staring at three pounds of
pubic hair. Naturally, I had an instant erection and my fly stood tall. She bent over, opened my
fly, took my piece out, pushed me down on the bench, climbed on top of me, and plunged my
probe into her phobia.
Dont worry, she whispered into my left ear, Im using a female condom. Dont move.
Let me do all the work. And she executed a jitterbug dance. Wow! After five minutes of
dancing she let out a sonorous Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! and I let out a deeptoned Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! After that, we both lay still for five minutes.
Then she jumped out, rearranged her dress, and told me, As you can see, systematic
desensitization works for me too. Youre my thirty-five laid so far this year. Hey, thanks a
bunch. Now I have to go. When can I get a copy of the directory?
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Six months from now. Just call the campus bookstore.
Thanks, I will. Bye-bye. And she was a goner.
I got up, walked to the nearest convenience store, got me a six-pack of Mexican beer and
strolled back to my castle. I undressed, sank my body into my couch, turned the TV on the
History channel and watched how the Spaniards massacred the poor Mexican Indians in the
name of God. After the killing was finished the Spaniards got their guitars out and sang a victory
song. I turned the TV off, got up, took my guitar out of my closet, sat back on my couch and
sang my own version of happiness,
Ayayayayayaayay! Life is a pothole,
Ayayayayayaayay! Life is a cubbyhole,
Ayayayaayay! Life is a hellhole,
Aayayayayaayay! Life is a loophole.
Aayayayayayy! Give me ethanol, oh yeah.
I sang and I drank, and I drank and I sang, until my neighbor banged on my wall. I put
the guitar away, pissed inside an empty bottle of beer, dropped the bottle on the floor, raced
toward my bed and jumped in, head first. Two hours later I got up, jumped out of bed and looked
inside my guitar. Yeap, it was full of urine. I had put my dick inside the wrong hole. So what? A
hole is a hole. I picked up my guitar, tossed it out of the window, turned around, sprinted toward
my bed and jumped into it, feet first. My neurons told my brain to stop thinking.
Until the following freaking day.
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Day 6
The doc, the dude and the doll or Is she really dead?
The sound of the traffic outside my window woke me up about three oclock in the sunny
afternoon. I got up, did my cleaning routine, got dressed up, and had four raw jumbo brown eggs
with a cup of coffee for breakfast. Then I decided to do a B&E into Dr. Bliss office since today
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was Wednesday and I knew that it was the doctors day off. I wanted to take a closer look at Dr
Strattons personal file to see if I could dig out more information. Somehow I felt she had not
told me the whole story. So, out I went to dispatch or be dispatched. Whatever.
Down in Lummus Park Life was having a ball. A man who looked like their godfather
was paying two policemen. So, what else is new? The cops chased the crooks down,
apprehended them, and then what? Some judge let the crooks free on account of their mental
disabilities. So, the cops figured that if the system favors the offenders, they might as well get
into the act and make some extra money on the side. Way to go constables! I yelled at them.
They looked at me and gave me the victory sign. I smiled and kept on walking until I saw a cab.
I whistled, and the doggie came to me.
Where to, hombre? the female driver said, twisting her right nipple with her right
fingers.
I gave her Dr. Bliss address and she moved her machine forward. Thirty-five minutes
later, we arrived at my destination.
Muchas gracias, bonita, I told the driver, getting off the cab and handing her a twenty.
Keep the change.
De nada, feo, she said, putting the bill inside her bra. Anytime you feel like having a
piece of cake, call me. Driver 69. Adios! And she disappeared.
I looked around and saw that the parking lot of Coral Gables Professional Building was
empty. Cool. I walked toward the back entrance of the building, took out my skeleton key and
opened the back door. Easy as picking my nose. There. I was in. I rode the rear elevator all the
way to the tenth floor, got out, looked for and found room 1001. I was ready to use my fake keys
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again when I realized that the door was open. I drew my gun and went in cautiously. I saw a man
leaning over a body sprawled over the white carpet, next to the center glass table. Hold it right
there, pal, I yelled. Turn around and put your hands up.
The man stood up and complied with my request. He was in his early twenties, was
wearing an olive-colored suit, white button-down shirt, red silk tie and blue suspenders. His head
was crowned with a mop of brown hair and his face was the color of chicken liver. A thinly
waxed mustache shined below his oversized nostrils. A real dude.
What the hell is going on here? I demanded.
He beckoned with his triangular head over the fallen body. Dr. Bliss has been killed.
Right, I said. Give me your name, rank, and serial number, pal, if you know what I
mean.
He swallowed a gulp of air and managed to say, My name is Douglas Owens, Central
Intelligence Agency. My credentials are in my wallet. You can see for yourself, but be careful
with that gun, will you?
Never mind. Just tell me what Genome Project means to you? I said.
Pandemic of 1918. Are you working for my uncle too?
I put my rod back in place and told him, Okay, Douglas, you can put your hands down.
At ease. Bravo is my name and I
He hit the rage button. I know who youre, mister, he shouted. My uncle, Major
Owens, told me all about you. He moved his thin, fragile body toward me and stood about two
inches away from my nose. You imbecile! Youre working for me, you realize that?
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I was about to knock his upper teeth out when my nostrils detected the smell of the
cologne he had on and I couldnt help letting a big sneeze out, Aaaaaaaaachoooooooooo!
Naturally, a fine spray of saliva fell over the dandys ENT (Ear, Nose and Throat).
He took a step backward, wiped his face with his right hand and said, What the hell?
I took a step forward, grabbed his nose and twisted it one hundred and eighty degrees.
Hell is what Im going to give you if you dont cooperate with me, Douglas. Tatiana Romanova
hired me to find Dr. Stratton and thats what I intend to do. Comprende?
Si, si, yo comprendo, he answered. Please, dont squeeze so hard. Youre hurting me.
I released his nose and he rubbed it with dignity. Sorry about that, Bravo, he said. I
lost my temper.
Yeah, right, I said. Now when did you first find Dr. Bliss body?
He touched his nose to make sure it was still there and then said, Dr. Bliss called my
uncle about two hours ago and told him to meet her here, that she had something to show him.
My uncle was ready to come here when he received a call from his superior officer telling him to
show up for a very important meeting. He called me and told me to come in his place. By the
time I got here, a few minutes ago, I found the door open and her body lying on the floor. She
was dead, as you can see for yourself. Come over here and Ill show you.
I followed him where Dr. Bliss body was lying. I looked her over. She wasnt blinking
anymore on account that somebody had plunged a thin and long stiletto right through her right
nostril, through her etmoid bone and through her meninges, killing her pronto. Her white coat
was sprinkled with blood and her pristine white shoes were pristine no more. Shes dead as a
dodo, I said.
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Yes, he said. Id better call 911 and have her body sent to out lab for further exami
A female voice cut him short. Hi, Doug. Sorry Im late, but the traffic was horrendous.
In addition my cellular stopped working. I think it needs a new battery or something like that.
Anyway, here I am. Better late than never, right?
I turned my head and saw a natural redheaded babe strolling in. She joined us, looked at
me, looked at the decedent and then asked, Is she really dead?
I gave her the devils advocate scrutiny. Early twenties, green flashing eyes, meaty lips
flanked by two pronounced dimples, waist the size of a small apple pie and long legs that made
my mind run amok. Magenta jacket, green blouse, pinks shoes and white miniskirt. A real sexy
doll. I sighed out loud.
She gave me an icy stare, turned to Douglas and asked, Is everything under control,
tiger?
Douglas puffed his flat chest out and answered very matter of fact, Of course, Karen.
You know me.
She kissed him on his right cheek and he blushed. I put a smirk on my face, offered my
ugly, hairy face and said, How about me?
She looked at me disdainfully and answered, Douglas, who is this, this guy, anyway?
Hes Cisco Bravo, the private investigator I told you about. He turned to me and said,
Mr. Bravo, meet Karen McGregor, my fiance and the most brilliant criminal journalist in Dade
County.
She reluctantly extended her hand and I quickly grabbed her forearm, Roman style. My
pleasure, Mac, I said, staring at her tits.
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She got rid of my grip in a hurry. My name is McGregor, if you dont mind, Mr. Bravo,
she said in an icy voice. She turned toward Douglas and asked him, Why is he here, anyway?
Douglas blushed and said, Yes, Mr. Bravo, why did you come here? Come on, man,
speak out!
I wanted to take a look at Dr. Strattons file to see if I could find any new leads, I said,
scratching my pubic hair. And you know what? I think that the killer had the same intention. He
was probably in his way out with Dr. Strattons file when Dr. Bliss came in. Notice that the
entrance door to her office is open. I bet that Dr. Strattons file is missing. Check it out Douglas.
Go ahead, dont just stand there looking dumb. Move!
Karens green eyes flashed and her skin turned pinker. Just a moment, just a moment,
Mr. Bravo. Let me set you straight. In the first place, Douglas is in charge of this case and he, not
you, makes the deductions and the decisions. In the second place, hes your commanding officer
and therefore you should keep your mouth shut and spoken only when spoken to. You got all
that?
Can you repeat all that, Mac? I wasnt paying attention. Never mind. Douglas, youd
better do as I told you. Youll be glad you did. See you later. And I did an about face, and took
the elevator down to earth. As soon as I got out of the building I noticed a red, shiny, German
convertible parked in front of the entrance door. I walked up to the car, cleared my throat, pulled
up a big wad of saliva and shot it at the pretty top. Bulls eye. Right on the roof. I laughed like a
hyena looked around, located the phone booth, got in, called a cab, got out and then waited for
the bucket of bolts to arrive.
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Five minutes later Karen passed me, looked the other way and headed for her car. I
watched her firm buttocks and her long, slender legs and couldnt help thinking what was in
between.
She got into her car and almost immediately I heard the familiar sound of a dead battery.
I laughed out loud, He, he, he, ha, ha, ha.
She came out of her car huffing and puffing, kicked the front tire and tried to open the
hood. No luck. She moved her sexy legs toward my humble self.
Que pasa, Mac, tienes problemas? I said.
Hey, dont you talk to me in Spanish. This is America, speak English, okay? Did you
call a cab?
Si. What about it?
Can I have it? I have got to be back at my desk within ten minutes. Now, be a pal and let
me have your taxi, okay?
Why dont you go back upstairs and ask your beau for help? I said with irony.
Hes not supposed to touch anything, she said impatiently. And besides, he has to wait
for the ambulance. Come on; let me have your taxi.
No way, Mac. I, too, have to go back to my office. Monkey business, you know. Now, if
you want to share the ride with me and also agree to pay for the fare, Ill let you in. Im short of
money.
Ill bet you are, she hissed. But its okay. I can pay. She did an about-face, went to
her car, fetched her purse and came back just when my taxi was arriving.
Vamonos, Mac, I said, racing toward the taxi and getting in first. She followed me.
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Criminal Journal Building, driver, Karen told him.
The driver said, Oui, and took off.
She reclined in the seat, looked at me, and said, Listen, Mr. Bravo, I need to know as
much as possible about this case. I know that Tatiana Romanova hired you to find Dr. Stratton,
and I know you visited Dr. Bliss, and I also know that you were in Tatianas apartment How
much do you want in exchange for what you have discovered? I can pay.
I stared at her legs and said, Ten Franklins will do it, Mac. In advance.
She took a pen and a checkbook out of her purse. Full name? she inquired.
Cisco Bravo, I said, moving my eye sockets from her legs to her groin.
She let her pen slide over the surface of the check, signed it, detached the green paper
money and handed it to me. I grabbed it fast.
Shoot, I said, putting the check inside my breast pocket.
Do you know where Dr. Stratton is? she asked.
Seguro, Mac. Hes in a farm near Orlando going over his notes.
Is that a fact? she said.
Absolutely, Mac. Hes double-checking his data to make sure he doesnt make any
mistakes.
So, he has the black notebook with him? Is that what youre trying to tell me?
You got it, Mac.
Okay, tell me, who do you think killed Dr. Bliss and why?
Agents from Iran, I said, matter of fact. They found out about the Genome Project
from Sydney Roderick and sent one of their thugs to get the files on Dr Stratton.
She looked at me, shook her red mane and burst into laughter. Hhahahahaha!.
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Hahahahahaha! Oh, my God! Hahahahahahahahahaha! Hahahahaha! Jesus! Youre ludicrous,

ridiculous and absurd, but also downright stupid. Hahahahahahaha! Listen, chum. Im a Harvard
woman. First in my class of Journalism. Dont insult my intelligence with a pack of lies. Farm in
Orlando, Sydney Roderick, agents from Iran. Hahahahahaha! Of all things. Listen, buster, this is
the biggest story in my career and Im going to get it, no matter what. Or who. And one more
thing, stop looking at my legs like that, will you?
I cant, Mac. Im a legman. Even when I eat fried chicken, I always start with the legs.
Its just a habit.
She looked at me with anger, and then hissed, I can see that I made a mistake with you.
Youre one of those men who think that women are silly creatures good only for cooking,
cleaning the house and taking care of the children. Ha! Ha! I have news for you, buster. I am a
professional journalist, not a housekeeper. And you know what? Anything you can do, I can do
better. Anglos have always done better than Hispanics. Youd better believe it!
Hey, calm down, Mac. Not a big deal. Youre a feminist and Im a mucho macho man.
You have your philosophy of life and I have mine. Nature and nurture right? Right! So, whats
new? You go your legs, I mean, your way, and Ill go mine. Okey-donkey?
Okay, jackass, she said fuming. I hope our paths dont cross again. Next time you see
me, please stay away from me!
I was going to say something nasty to her, but the cab stopped moving and the driver
said, Yornal bilding, focks. Twenty dolla.
Karen got out, paid the man and then turned to me. By the way, Mr. Bravo, she said,
with a big smirk on her pretty face, dont hurry to cash that check. Its not valid until the year
2030. Hahahahahahaha!
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Watch out for that car, Mac! I shouted, pointing right behind her.
She instinctively leaped sideways, lost her equilibrium and fell on top of the wet, green
garbage bags heaped on the sidewalk.

Just kidding, Mac, just kidding, I shouted at her. She yelled something back, but the
cab was already moving and I couldnt hear her objections. I laughed my heavy balls off for
twenty seconds and then told the driver to take me back to Lummus Park. He did, I paid him, he
left and I wandered for a while until I found a small Cuban coffee shop on 12th street. Cool. I got
in and ordered me one Hot Cuban Sandwich three ham croquettes, four meat pies, and one
large caf con leche. Presto! Before I knew it, I had the pile of food in front of my drooling
mouth. I ate and drank until it was all goooone. I burped like a sob. (satisfied obstreperous
badger), paid, and went home. I got in, dropped my full stomach into my favorite couch and let
the time passed me by.
?????
Suzie. The frustrated bride or Whats that around your waist?"
Two and a half-hour later I came back to the real world, got up, put Saint Ursulas cap
on, the recorder in my pocket and out I went hoping to find me a fresh fish. The crowd was very
heavy and I had to push my way through the throng of suckers until I found my bench. This time
I found it occupied by two teens licking each others face. I sat down and told the young lovers,
Hey, kids, do you want to buy a couple of pounds of TNT? Or maybe a Gattling machine gun?
Or maybe a box of armor-piercing ammo? The duo looked at me, looked at each other, got up
and left in a hurry.
I smiled and waited for a virgin. Ten minutes later a couple approached the bench. He
was about three hundred pounds fat, had rosy baby cheeks, and abundant yellow hair. She was
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about three hundred pounds fat, had rosy baby cheeks and abundant yellow hair. He was wearing
a periwinkle coat, maize pants, and pink-mauve shoes. She was wearing a pistachio blouse, a
bubblegum skirt and verdant shoes. I figured they were both around XXXX y.o. They looked
like two fat cockatoos looking for a gourmet food restaurant. Jesucristo! I exclaimed.
Amen! they both said in unison and then sat down. He said quickly, Hello, there. God
bless you. My name is Benny Staggard and this is my wife, Bonita. Were both evangelists. Your
name is Bravo, and youre a private eye, right?
Right, I said. How did you know?
He said, Emma told us to come to the South Beaches and walk along Ocean Drive until
we came across a guy with a fluorescent cap on.
Thats me, BS. What can I do for you?
God needs your help, he said.
Amen! she said.
Tel me the rest of the story BS, I said.
He said, As I said, were both dedicated to do Gods work. Our only mission in life is to
save the starving children of Africa. As you probably know there are more than ten million
deaths every year in all parts of Africa due to starvation. A real tragedy. Our TV program, God
Needs Your Help, uses the gifts we received from our congregation to buy food for the starving
children. But now were in trouble. Why? Because many of our supporters lost their shirts in the
stock market and as a result, stopped sending their weekly contributions. Our funds have shrunk
to the point that now we can hardly pay the weekly fee charged by the TV station. IF they cancel
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us, the hungry African children will die exponentially. But you can help save the children. How?
You can
I cut him off. Let me tell you how, BS. My dad was an evangelist too, just like you. His
mission was to save the starving children of South America. He spent all of his life fighting
hunger in that part of the world. He was my role model. Unfortunately a Brazil boa had him for
lunch and that was the end of his quest. I always wanted to follow his example. Now you have
given me the opportunity to do so. Tell you what. Ill quit my job manana and join you in your
mission. Give me at least two weeks to get my personal business square away. Come back here
in fourteen days and well get things moving. Deal?
He looked at Bonita and Bonita looked at him. Deal, he said, getting up. Im sure that
after you join us our problem will disappear. God bless you.
Amen! Bonita said, and got her fat duff off the bench. He took her by the arm and they
both walked away.
I smiled and kept waiting for my virgin. Three hours later I got tired and hungry so I
abandoned my post and decided to go Chinese. I hailed a cab and rode up north to the famous
Confucius Gardens Chinese Restaurant near Division Street. The place was jam-packed, very
noisy and very hot. The hostess, a young Chinese girl dressed in a bright yellow outfit and
wearing a red bamboo hat, told me that a wedding reception was going on and that the only place
available to have dinner was the lounge.
Whatever, I told her, and moved my frame into the bar, which was completely empty
except for a beautiful Chinese girl sitting in the far corner. I looked her over. Charcoal brilliant
hair, white kimono, green sash and black sandals. She looked like one of Gauguins still picture.
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I approached her, sat in the stool next to her and whispered in her left ear, The Great
Wall of China extends 1500 miles.
She smiled at me and I could see her perfect teeth. Yes, she said, and it was begun in
the third century B.C.
Cisco Bravo, I said, extending my right hand.
Suzie Fong, she said, shaking my extremity.
The bartender, a skinny Chinese old woman, interrupted us. Hello. Here is the menu, sir.
Anything to drink?
I grabbed the menu and said, A bottle of Singao beer.
She did a three hundred and sixty degrees turn, walked over to the cooler, grabbed a
bottle and came back to me. Singao for one, sir, she said, putting the bottle down.
I nodded and she returned to her post. I had a long drink straight from the bottle.
Ahhhhhhhh! Good stuff. Want some, Suzie?
No thanks. Tonight I drink only whiskey, she said, showing me her half empty glass.
You have problems, Suzie?
She emptied her glass in a one-two movement. The bartender quickly refilled it. I was
supposed to be the bride tonight, she said in a tired tone of voice.
But? I said, downing my entire bottle of beer. The bartender quickly brought me
another one.
But, he, Lin Yu Tang, my sweetheart of many years, dropped me and married my best
girlfriend, Cleo Fang, tonight. That noise you hear is their wedding reception.
Why did Lin drop you and choose Cleo?
She took another stiff swig. The bartender quickly refilled it. Because, she said, her
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father is rich, very rich. Hotel and restaurant business, you know. In fact, he owns this
restaurant.
And what are you going to do about it, Suzie? I said.
Im going to blow this place up. See for yourself. She undid the beautiful green sash
and opened her kimono. I saw her small breasts, her skimpy pubic hair and about ten sticks of
dynamite taped around her waistline. The sticks were connected to a small red button on top of
her navel. After I finish this drink, she added, Im going to push the red button and this whole
place will vanish. Boom! All gone.
I looked at the red button, looked at her drink and then said, Listen, Suzie, I agree with
you a hundred percent. Lin sold out his tail to the highest bidder. You have all the right to get
even. Me? I dont give a damn because I have cancer of the pancreas and my days are counted.
Tell you what. Lets have our last meal and then have some sex for dessert. After that, boom!
What do you say?
She looked at me, looked at my fly and then said, Sure. Why not? Hey, bartender, bring
me a Seafood Wor Special, will you?
The bartender took a dish out of the freezer and put it in the micro. A couple of minutes
later the micro beeped. The bartender took out the steaming food and put it in front of us. It
looked delicious. Scallops, shrimps, lobster tail, mussels, mushrooms, broccoli, sliced bamboo
shoots, bok choy and water chestnuts. I looked at Suzie and said, Is this the kind of food that
turns you on, Suzie?
That helps, but what really turn me on is hearing contradictory statements. When
somebody contradicts me, I get mad and suddenly I feel the urge to have sex. My doctor, Kim
Chao Chin, told me that the reason for that abnormal reaction is that people from Yan Tong, a
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village north of Honk Kong, and my birthplace, have an abnormal pituitary gland, which, instead
of sending a signal to the fists when a person gets mad, it sends a signal to the ovaries and
I cut her off. And as a result, you have a surge of estrogens and a sudden desire for
fornication. Yo comprendo.
Exactly. Now, just last night I was going over a paper I wrote in my senior year in
college on the Seven Wonders of the World. Ah, eh, do you know what Im talking about? And
she took a bunch of shrimps and swallowed them.
Hey, dont underestimate me, amiga. Im also a college graduate. Let me set you
straight. Youre talking about The Pyramids of Giza, The Hanging Gardens of Babylon, The
Statue of Zeus at Olympia, The Temple of Arthemis at Ephesus, The Mausoleum of
Halicarnassus, The Colossus of Rhodes and The Lighthouse of Alexandria. In addition, modern
scholars add The Great Wall of China. So its not seven but eight wonders of the world.
Comprende?
Okay, okay, okay. What Im about to tell you is what I remember from my reading last
night. Some of the facts may not be totally accurate but then, my memory is not what is used to
be. Here we go. Number one wonder is The Pyramids of Giza in Egypt built between 2500 and
2500 BC and still standing tall. The most outstanding thing about the pyramids is not how tall
theyre but how they managed to carry those huge pieces of concrete up the ramp and put them
in the proper place? A well kept mystery over the centuries. But they did it. And, according to
the Greek historian Herodotus, they did it in only twenty years. Isnt that amazing? And she did
away with the lobster tail.
Kiss my culo. The secret procedure is no secret anymore. British scholars now know
how the Egyptians did it. Listen to this. Slaves rolled thousands of barrels to the closest river,
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filled them with fine sand and water and then blew bubbles into the barrel with a bubble-blower.
After that, the slaves rolled the light barrels into the designed position and poured the mixture
into a previously excavated hole. Result? Within twelve hours the bubbles expanded and the
mixture became a block of concrete. All done! And, for your information, they did it in five
years and not in twenty as Herodotus claimed. Remember that Herodotus invented the retsina
wine and was drunk most of the time.
Freak you, my man. Let me continue. Number two wonder was the Hanging Gardens of
Babylon. They were beautiful hanging gardens filled with eucalyptus, roses, magnolias, violets,
gardenias, selaginellas, ragworts, marigolds, begonias, daisies, and daffodils.
Ha, ha, ha. Listen chum, the Gardens did not exist at all. They were just potted plants
displayed on the terraces of the rich and the idle. The rumor was that they were marihuana
plants.
Idiot! Never mind. Let me continue. Number three wonder was The Statue of Zeus at
Olympia in Greece, carved about 4000 BC. It was the masterpiece of the Greek sculptor Phidias.
It was made of marble and stood at about 75 feet. An awesome sight. Pericles, the ruler of
Greece in those times, accused Phidias of getting kickbacks from the suppliers of marble and
exiled him to Turkey where he died, broke and sick, at the age of thirty-two. Poor man.
Rubbish. The Statue was actually made of ivory and gold and measured only 40 feet. As
far as that tale about Pericles is concerned, the fact is that Pericles was a homo and Phinias his
lover. When Phidias fell in love with Nick, one of the suppliers of ivory, Pericles kicked him out
to Turkey. Nick had a good head for business and the two of them set up the best whorehouse in
Turkey. They both died of an unknown virus at the age of thirty-two. Need I say more?
God damn you! Im getting mad by the minute. Wonder number four was the Temple of
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Artemis at Ephesus in Asia Minor built in 360 BC. The temple was built on her honor because of
her love for wild animals. Besides her love for wild animals, Artemis also had great affection for
pregnant teenagers. She advised them on how to breathe during delivery and on how to deal with
the baby during the first 30 days. A wonderful woman. And she made the scallops disappear.
BS, all BS. Artemis is also known as Diana the huntress. She loved to kill any animal
consider to be a predator. A natural killer she was. Yes, sir. And the reason she helped teens in
distress was because they paid her in gold coins instead of the usual cooper coins. A crafty lady
she was. Next?
Freaking moron! Freak you, you hear? Goddamn! Wonder number five was the
Mausoleum of Halicarnassus. It was a marble tomb designed for an n epileptic king by the name
of Mausolus who suffered from frequents seizures and from terrible headaches. He suspected
that he was going to die soon and decided to build his own tomb. And he did. He built a tomb
that was about 150 feet in height, had four sides, ten windows and four doors. One week after he
was buried somebody put a bomb by the tomb and Mausolus remains were blown to pieces. A
tragic end for a suffering man. And she ate a bunch of bamboo shoots.
Ha, ha, ha, ha! Listen, silly girl. Mausolus was an alcoholic and thats why he had the
shakes and terrible hangovers. Hey, I dont know where you got your information but its allwrong. Dead wrong.
Wrong? Wrong? Youll be sorry that you said that. But let me continue. Wonder number
six was The Colossus of Rhodes built around 300 BC and dedicated to the Sun which they
thought to be the source of all life. It was as tall as the Empire State Building and stood astride
the harbor entrance. A fearsome sight! Unfortunately it was destroyed around 244 BC by a
tsunami. A tragic end. And she cleaned up the rest of the Special.
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Nonsense I said. According to the famous British archeologist Sir Arthur Hawkins, the
Colossus never existed. His claim was founded on the fact that the Rhodesian engineers didnt
have enough knowledge to build a foundation strong enough to keep the Colossus from falling.
You son of a bitch! I tell you one more and then watch out for me! Wonder number
seven was the Lighthouse of Alexandria built on the 4th century BC on the island of Pharos in
Egypt. It was as tall as the Sears Building and its light could be seen up to 100 miles. Over the
years it became a retirement house for old sailors.
Ha, ha, ha, ha! The Lighthouse never worked properly because the light kept on going
off during the storms. And over the years it became famous as the place to get enlightened or
drunk during the course of a hurricane.
She suddenly got up, took her kimono off, and pulled me down to the floor. Im on fire,
she said, opening my fly and taking out my cue and my balls.
Go ahead, I yelled, this game is for free.
She jumped on top of me, plunged my cue into her pocket and started rocking back and
forth. I lay still, my eyes fixed on the red button. After three minutes of rocking she let out a
scream, Liiiiiiiiing! Liiiiiiiing! Ah! Ah! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! And she shook
like a bamboo stick, pitched forward and hit the floor with her head. She lay still, moaning
incoherently.
I quickly got up, pushed my cue and my balls inside my pants, walked over to her body,
turned it over and yanked away the twelve sticks of dynamite. Then I turned around and handed
them to the bartender. Here, I told her, throw these babies away. When she fully recovers, tell
her that to forget about the firecrackers, that the Big Bang is better!
She took the sticks, glanced at Suzies body, shrugged and gave me the bill.
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I pushed the bill back. Shes the sister of the bride, I said quickly. No charge. And I
walked out of the heavenly house laughing my shrunken balls off.
Outside the rain was still coming down in sheets. Fortunately for me a taxicab just
happens to come by. I jumped in and within the hour I was back in my territory. I paid the cab
and directed my feet toward the Viva Espana Restaurante just around the corner. I got in and
ordered a paella valenciana and a pitcher of sangria. Within fifteen minutes I was stuffed up to
my neck with pieces of chicken, rabbit, snails, green beans, tomatoes, garlic, and lots and lots of
rice. Wow! I drank the last drop of sangria and then burped like Franco. I paid, got up and
dragged myself to my sweet home. I got in, turned the TV on the Religious channel, undressed,
and then dropped my body into the soft couch. The faces of Benny and Bonita stared down at
me. He was dressed all in white and had a Bible in his left hand while she was dressed all in blue
and had a pile of letters in her right hand. He was saying, And dont you forget it. Jesus is King!
And now the time for healing has come. If you suffer from migraine, touch my head with your
right thumb; if you suffer from glaucoma, touch my eyes with your right index; If you suffer
from sinusitis, touch my nose with your right middle finger; If you suffer from otitis media touch
my ears with your right little finger; and If you suffer from hypothyroidism, rub my throat with
your left hand. In the name of Jesus I command you to be cured. Thank you Jesus, thank you
Jesus, thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus. I thank you Jesus. And you should show your gratitude
too. Send me a gift of two thousand dollars or more and youll be saved. Pick up your phone and
make a pledge, or write me a letter with your personal check or money order. DO IT NOW! My
number and my address are on the screen. Make a permanent commitment to our ministry. Soft
organ music filled the air and Benny sang,
Save yourself from the pain,
Be your head, be your throat,
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Touch my head, touch my throat,

Send two grand, be God sent.
And he repeated his song, over and over. I promptly jumped out of my couch, ran to the
phone, dialed Bennys number and waited.
Operator: God bless you, brother. Thank you for calling. Your pain can be conquered. Its
written. Genesis, 3:17; John, 6:25; Revelation, 12:11 and Galatians, 4:19. Whats your
problem?
I: Listen, sister, I have two overgrown lumps between my legs. How can I get rid of them?
Operator: Dont worry, brother, all you have to do is sing along with Benny, and touch his
groin. By tomorrow, after youve sent the two grand, youll be cured. Sing, sing along, brother.
I: One more thing, sister. Do you take Cuban pesos?
Operator: Listen, buster, are you trying to be funny or what? Get off my line, you son of a
bitch! And she hung up.
I dropped my phone on its cradle and laughed my two lumps off. Then I ran over to my
couch, grab the remote, turn off B&B, sprinted toward my bed and jumped in. Five of my six
senses stopped working.
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Day 7
A man with ill intentions or Do you have a sore throat?
Twelve hours later my brain kicked on and I got up, went to the kitchen, prepared me a
giant peanut butter and guava jelly sandwich and a pot of coffee and ate the whole mess in two
minutes flat. I calculated that I had ingested about thirty grams of saturated fat, but what the hell,
it tasted good. After that, I did all of my -ings until I found myself pretty and ready to start my
daily work. I was going to call up my next lead, the MICE Sydney Roderick, but I changed my
mind and decided to surprise him, so, out I went. To strangle or be strangled. Whatever.
Down in Lummus Park twelve Latino boys were kicking the hell out of a rough-looking,
fat, white policeman. Kicks to his head, kicks to his sides, kicks to his arms, and kicks to his
balls. Pretty soon the poor bastard stopped moving and the hoodlums cheered and strolled down
the street singing the national anthem. How do you like that? I told the homeless man standing
next to me. He shrugged, opened his fly, took out his dirty staff and piss all over the sidewalk.
Probably another commercial, he said, and lay down on the street. I nodded in agreement,
turned around, hailed a cab and within the hour I was walking on the perfectly manicured lawn
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of the Institute of Social Research in Hialeah. My eyes kept on looking until they found the
MICE burrow. I went in and an old female dinosaur, acting as Sydneys secretary, told me that
the Professor was in the auditorium delivering a lecture. I thanked the old fossil, spat some
peanut butter into her wastebasket and ordered my neurons to take me to the auditorium. No
problem. The door was open so I just walked in and sat in the last row. Sydney was having a
ball.
And so, he was saying, that concludes our discussion on social inequality in America.
The bottom line is this: If youre white, Republican, Protestant, and wealthy, you have it made.
Otherwise, youre in the freaking ditch. Now, our topic for next week is going to be on the
breakdown of the United States as the leader of the world. I have prepared a list of questions that
should help you focus on the problem. Here they are:
1. Politically speaking, is it true that less than 40% of Americans elect our President?
2. Economically speaking, is it true that less than 10% of Americans hold 90% of all the wealth
of this country?
3. Religiously speaking, is it true that 50% of all homeless are former Catholic priests?
4. Socially speaking, is it true that more than 60% of all college women are not wearing any
underwear these days?
5. And finally, culturally speaking is it true that one of our first ladies couldnt read or write and
thats why she always refused to sign any autographs?
You got all of that? Good. Thats all for today, class. See you next week.
All the students disbanded except for two girls who went over to the podium to talk to
Sydney. I, too, approached the rostrum and stood aside surveying my man. He was in his late
forties, was bald, tall, taut and thin. His blue long sleeve shirt was wrinkled and covered with
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chalk dust and his psychedelic tie was too long, reaching the fly of his tight blue denim jeans. I
didnt see any sign of his penis so I figured he was short in that department. His eyes were blue
and so were his suede shoes. I noticed that his skin had a yellow tint, which I interpreted as
related to some kind of liver infection like hepatitis B, or something of that nature. In addition,
he had an abnormal projection of his lower jaw, a condition known as prognathism. A strange
looking critter.
I waited until the two students left and then approached him.
Hi, I said, my name is Cisco Bravo, college graduate private investigator. I was hired
by your girl friend Tatiana to look for Professor Stratton. Can you spare a few moments of your
time?
He glanced at me, put his index cards down on the podium and then said, Ill be
damned. A Hispanic college graduate. Just what I needed to complete my research on educated
Hispanics in the United States. Tell me, was it too hard to get into college or was it easy?
I decided to go along with his game so I said, Was very easy. All I had to do was to get
the Dean of Admission in bed and slapped her couple of times before doing her in.
Interesting, very interesting, he said. And did you feel discriminated upon by your
white classmates?
Absolutely, I said. They all hated me because I knew how to read and write.
Great, great! he said. How about food? Did you find the food they served in the
college cafeteria acceptable to your taste?
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I never touched the processed food or the artificially sweetened drinks they offered us.
Instead, I brought my own homemade chili con frijoles, and my own thermo filled with sweet
espresso coffee. It was a gas, Syd.
Marvelous, just marvelous, he said. And how about sex on campus? Did the white
girls like you or avoid you?
The ugly white girls went bananas over my big, fat banana and the pretty white girls
went bananas over my big, fat banana. I was pretty busy, pretty busy indeed. And talking about
love, Syd, when are you and Tatiana are getting married? Ashi told me that you two were very
serious about each other. Matrimonio, eh?
Oh, yes, he said. As soon as Dr. Stratton is found, we intent to get married in her
favorite church down in Kendall. By the way, I want to thank you for charging her only two
thousand dollars for your services. How are you doing? Have you discovered any clues leading
to Dr. Stratton?
Nothing so far, Syd. In fact thats the reason I came here to talk to you. Tatiana told to
me that there is a gang of Iranian extremists after her and that she fears for her life. Do you know
who these guys are?
He picked up his index cards and then said, Its all in her mind, believe me. She has seen
too many American thrillers on TV and that affected her psyche. Now she thinks that somebody
is after her. Its just her imagination thats all. Ill take care of her, dont you worry. You just
keep on with your investigation and let me know if I can be of any help. Youll have to excuse
me now. I have an urgent meeting with Dr. Wampole, the Assistant Dean in charge of cultural
affairs for the foreign graduate students. It was nice talking to you. Good-bye.
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See you around, Syd, I said. He turned around and walked out of the auditorium. As
soon as he was out of sight, I stepped up to the blackboard, took a piece of chalk and wrote the
following invitation:
ATTENTION, ALL FOREIGN GRADUATE STUDENTS!

You are cordially invited to a Wappa Tula Party tonight at ten oclock here in this
auditorium. Bring a clean garbage can, thirty pounds of crushed ice, two bottles of Cuban rum,
two bottles of gin, two bottles of bourbon, two bottles of whiskey, two bottles of vodka, five
pounds of green jalapeno peppers, five pounds of sugar, two porno movies and a big stereo. Set
up the garbage can by the entrance door and dump all of the above ingredients into the can. Stir
for five minutes. Then do your thing. Drink and swing and swing and drink. Show the other
students how coitus is performed in your native country. Have fun, and enjoy it. Good night.
Love, Dr. Wampole.
Boys: Abstain from pissing into the can.
I dropped the chalk on the floor, laughed like a hyena and left the auditorium. As I was
walking out, a familiar body joined me. It was Karen McGregor in person. She was wearing tight
khaki Bermuda shorts, blue blouse, white tennis shoes and white socks. In her right hand she was
carrying a miniature recorder.
Well, well, well, I said. What do we have here? Brainy Mac, the richest criminal
journalist in Miami. Going my way, Mac?
She smiled and said, For your information, Mr. Bravo, Im here because one of my
colleagues got sick and I had to cover for her. The topic is rape, if you care to know. I saw you
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coming out of the auditorium and decided to join you. Reason is that Id like to apologize for my
behavior on our last encounter. Sorry.
Hahahahahahahah! You sound pitiful, Mac, I said. Cheap psychology is not going to
fool me. You probably followed me here and now you are dying to see what Ive discovered. Try
again, Mac.
There you go again, she said angrily. Why cant you be more courteous? Here Im
trying to be friendly with you and all I get is mockery from you. Im not interested in what Dr.
Roderick told you, believe me. Douglas and I already talked to him and he told us all there is to
know about the role of Tatiana in this case. He swore to us that Tatiana doesnt have the black
notebook and that she doesnt know where Dr. Stratton is either. He wants to marry her, you
know.
And you believed him? I asked.
She stopped to tie one of her shoelaces. I took advantage of her position and made a
visual inspection of her well-formed cheeks. Wow, wow, wow, what a view.
Yes, we did, she answered, straightening her spine and facing me. After all, she
added, he didnt tell us anything new. So, you see
A high-pitched scream interrupted her. It came from a bush behind us. We both
instinctively looked in that direction. Another scream followed the first one. I drew my gun and
ran toward the bush, jumped over it and saw a husky, bearded, tall, dark-skinned man, dressed
like a gardener, trying to undress a fat, short, light-skinned young girl dressed like a student.
Stop or Ill shoot! I yelled.
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The tall man picked the fat young girl up and hurled her toward me. She hit my gun and
knocked it down to the lawn. To make matters worse, the chunk of blubber bounced to the side
and dragged Karen down. They both rolled on the grass.
I stood in front of the sexually deviant man and gave him the finger. He frowned, pulled a
knife out of his pocket and rushed me with clearly ill intentions. I let him come close enough to
me, and then let him have my triple kick: kick to his armed hand, kick to his big head and kick to
his wide groin. He dropped the knife, shook his head, rubbed his big balls, and then laughed his
huge belly off. I tried to kick his head again, but I slipped on the wet grass and fell right into the
whoppers arms. He quickly put a squeeze between my L-1 and L-5. It hurt. I thought that my
backbone was going to snap at any time. He added pressure to my sacrum bone. I twisted my
body, turned my head toward Karen and yelled, Mac, the knife! Give me the knife!
Karen kicked the fat young girl away from her, picked up the knife and threw it in my
direction. I caught the shiny blade in mid-air and with a swift follow-through movement, I sunk
the blade into his left ear, cut downward toward his Adams apple and then upward toward his
right ear. Blood spewed out like lava from Mount Vesuvius. He let my body loose, put his left
hand over his neck and blurted out, Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr? Rrrrrrrrr? Rrrrrrrr?
I stood aside and told him, No, you cant talk, big boy. Why? Because your vocal chords
have been severed along with the right internal jugular vein, the common carotid, and the
brachial plexus. Now your venous return is a one-way street and pretty soon all 6 liters of blood
circulating in your body will be drained out and youll be as dry as an old prune. Ill see you in
hell.
He took two steps forward, three steps backwards, and finally fell down on his big tail.
His body shook like a tuning fork for about two minutes and then he passed away to hell.
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Karen came over, looked at the bloody mess and said, Is he dead?
I put the bloody knife in my pocket and said, Stiff as a telephone pole. One thing is for
sure, theyre going to need a big boat to bury the son of a bitch.
She shook her red mane in a gesture of disapproval. Jesus! Do you really have to talk
like that? Dont you have any respect for a dead person? You make me sick.
I dont really care about the way you feel, Mac, I said. All Im doing is stating a fact.
By the way, have you ever seen this guy?
Youre asking me? she yelled. How would I know? As far as Im concerned, hes
another crazy rapist.
Yeah, right, I said. Let me see his credentials.
I approached the stiff and searched all of his pockets. Nothing. Then I took his shoes off.
Nothing. Then I took his socks off. Bingo! A small piece of paper.
What does it say? Karen asked.
Wait a second, Mac. Ill read it out loud. Here we go.
Ali:
These are your instructions for the day. Do one thing at a time. No distractions or youre going
to get it when you come back to the clinic.
1. Go to the Institute of Social Research in Hialeah. Is the big white building I showed you
yesterday.
2. Go to the office of Sydney Roderick and bump him off. His office is the one I marked with a
cross yesterday. Hes bald, so you can crush his head with your fist or with your shoes.
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3. After that, you may rape any girl you find unattractive. Have fun.
4. IF anybody interferes with your fun, use your knife the way I taught you.
5. Do not lie on the grass of the Institute or you will fall asleep.
6. After youre done with todays deed, come back to get your daily shots.
Mohammad.
Thats it, I said.
What do you make out of that?
I put the piece of paper in my pocket and said, His name is Ali, was mentally deranged
or something to that effect, came here to kill Sydney, had a grudge against fat girls and had a
boss by the name of Muhammad. Arabs, probably.
Bravo, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, she said derisively. Brilliant deductions. Listen,
buster
Where am I? a voice interrupted her. We both looked down at the grass and saw the
ball of blubber getting up. She was fat all right, had a face full of freckles and her one-piece
khaki mini dress was shredded to pieces. Her bubble gum breasts hung flaccid and unattractive.
She certainly looked ridiculous.
Dont worry, dear, youre in good hands now, Karen told her. Somebody tried to rape
you. Are you all right?
The chubby girl came closer to the happening and took a long look at the dead man.
Him? she asked, pointing a chubby finger at the corpse.
Yes, him, Karen replied. And this man here, Mr. Bravo, a private investigator, saved
you.
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Why, thank you, Mr. Bravo, she said, extending her chubby right hand.
I squeezed her piece of cheese and let it go. She looked at her plump hand and said,
Goddamn, whats that red stuff inside my hand?

I took a quick look and said, Blood. I probably had my hand sprinkled with blood when
I slit his throat.
Eeeeeeeeeeehhhhhhh! Bloooooooood! the fatso said and fainted. She fell on the grass
and lay still.
The hell with her, I said. Listen, Mac, Im getting out of here. Call your beau,
Douglas, tell him what happened and see that he puts a tracer on this Muhammad. He seems to
be associated with some kind of clinic, like a sanitarium or something along those lines. And
dont worry about this gordita. She probably wished she had been raped anyway. And keep me
informed, willya, Mac? I turned my back to her and started looking for my gun.
She came after me like a shot grabbed me by my right arm and shouted, Wait a minute,
buster. Wait a minute! That poor girl is suffering the traumatic consequences of an attempted
rape. She may be fat, but she is a human being, just like you and me. Think about the
psychological effect that this attack will cause on her personality. Have you ever heard of the
rape-trauma syndrome? Of course not. How would you feel if she were your daughter?
I had a vasectomy when I was fifteen, I said, shaking her arm off.
An excuse to avoid responsibilities, she said, mad as hell. We, women, despise men
like you, egocentric bastards whose only thought is to satisfy their physiological needs. The hell
with her, you say. The hell with you, Mr. Bravo!
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I just love when you get mad. You look sexier that way. Oh, I see my gun over there by
the dead man. Fetch it for me, willya?
What? Are you ordering me to get your gun? Freak you, imbecile. Go get it yourself. Im
not your lap dog.
Ha, ha, ha. I knew you were going to say something like that, Mac. Never mind. I
walked over the shrub, picked my gun up and then walked back where Karen was. standing. My
baby, I said, kissing my rod.
Listen, Bravo. I had it with you. Do me a favor and stay away from me, you hear?
Away!
Watch out, Mac, hes moving! I said, and fired two rounds in the direction of the stiff.
She leaped backwards and fell on her butt. Ouch, she cried out.
Just kidding, Mac, just kidding, I said, putting my gun in its hole. Hasta la vista,
Mac. I spat a big wad of foamy saliva into my hand, cleaned it against my shirt and walked
away laughing my big balls off.
Half a block away I grabbed a taxi and pretty soon I was back in my domain. I located the
next street vendor and ordered a pickled kingfish swimming in a bed of white rice and a portion
of fried sweet plantains. After I had swallowed the last bone I went home, dropped my body in
my favorite couch and took a nice siesta.
?????
Georgina. Romanticism vs. Realism or Is pretending the way to a terrific orgasm?
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The time passed me by until I came back to actuality. I jumped out of my couch, got my
cap, put it on, grabbed my recorder and out I went to look for a wholesome girl. Outside, a fine
rain was falling on the shoulders of the pleasure-seekers strolling along Ocean Avenue. I pulled
my cap down to my nose, found my bench and sat down. Within five minutes a woman
approached me. She was about thirty-two or three, had short white hair, long ears, and long nose
and was wearing thick rimless bifocals. A plain blue dress covered her sturdy body all the way
down to her blue tennis shoes. She looked to me like Frankensteins second wife. May I sit
down, Mr. Bravo? she asked. And sat down.
I looked at her sagging tits and asked her, Do you have a name?
She pushed her falling glasses up her nose and then said, Im Dr. Clark. OB & GYN.
I looked at her long nose and said, Let me guess, doctora. You have a message for me
from your friend Emma or is it from Benny and Bonita? Which one?
She pushed her falling glasses up her long nose and then said, Actually Im here on my
own free will. I want you to know that Benny and Bonita are my closest friends from way back
when I was in medical school and they were in Bible school. We met at a revival and have been
friends since. I believe that Benny is a sincere man who really wants to save the starving children
of Africa. And Bonita is his faithful wife and helper. Unfortunately she suffers from
endometriosis, a disorder in which abnormal growths of tissue are present in the ovary, the
uterine cul-de-sac, the bowel, the bladder and the ureters and because of that her life is quite
miserable although she doesnt show it. But I know better, Im her doctor and her confidant. I
love her and she loves me. In fact, she loves me so much that she is going to help me financially
to build my own OB & GYN clinic here in Miami, something I always dreamed of. However
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that project is only feasible if Dr. Stratton is not found within thirty days. Therefore I dont want
you to keep on looking for him. Give him up! You understand, Mr. Bravo?
I looked at her dripping nose and then said, And how much are you willing to pay me
for quitting?
She stood up, pushed her falling glasses up her nose and then said, Im prepared to make
you a partner in my clinic. Youll get one fifth of the revenues plus a hefty bonus for Christmas.
Is that satisfactory?
Nope. I want half of the profits of your clinic and one bonus for Christmas, one for
Easter, and another one for Thanksgiving. Each bonus has to be worth at least thirty thousand
dollars. Cool?
Shame on you, Mr. Bravo, shame on you. Is money all you can think of? Whats your
philosophy of life anyway?
Run when its raining hard! I said, sprinting away from the bench and running away
from the pelting rain. I ran around the block, waited until the rain stopped and then ran back to
my favorite bench. The OB & GYN advocate was nowhere in sight. Good, I said, putting my
big cheeks on the wet bench.
Nine and a half minutes later, a girl came out from the rain, pointed at my hat and then
said, I graduated from that school three years ago. Are you a recruiter or what?
I looked her over. She was in her early twenties rather than in her early thirties, was tall
rather than short, had melancholic brown eyes rather than happy blue eyes, had a pretty face
rather than an ugly face, had a lot of smooth black hair rather than a lot of rough brown hair, and
had one huge cooper ring hanging from her left ear rather than two small cooper rings hanging
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from both ears. Her body was covered with a fancy one-piece berry dress rather than a one-piece
cherry bikini and her feet were covered with ochre leather sandals rather than white tennis shoes.
She looked to me like a graceful flamingo rather than a stupid-looking wild turkey. I told her
about my project, showed her my recorder and she smiled, sat down and told me her story. Like
this.
My name is Georgina Eliott and I have an intelligence quotient of 165. Thats the reason
I did my four years of college in only three. That and the fact that I always attended Saint Ursula
College year around, including summer school. As you probably know summer school is very
popular among students because it is an easy way to pick-up extra credits and also because the
teacher is usually a Visiting Professor from another state who is very knowledgeable in his field
and very generous with his grades. Having said that, I want to share with my sisters the
experience I had during my last summer session at The Order. Here we go. The course I picked
was:
English 305. Romanticism: Selected poems of such romantic poets as Wordsworth, Shelley, and
Keats and selected selections from prose writers such as Mary Shelley, Thomas De Quincey and
William Hazlitt. Pre-requisite: A sentimental soul. Five credits. MWF, 10:00 AM to 11:00 AM,
Saint Ursula Hall, Room 105. Instructor: Visiting Professor George Noel Gordon, University of
California.
Naturally, all the sensitive sisters signed up immediately, I included. We were not disappointed.
Doctor Gordon was a thin, tall, distinguished looking man in his early forties, with a very kind
face, dreamy brown eyes, shiny brown hair, a prominent Adams apple and a sonorous and
musical voice, with which he delivered his well-orchestrated lectures. He was always neatly
dressed, perfectly groomed, and never used the same tailored-made suit twice. In addition, he
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had the habit of wiping his prominent forehead with a white handkerchief saturated with some
kind of cologne that made us shiver. A real exciting man. Needless to say, we all fell in love with
him and flirted openly with him but he always kept his dignified posture and treated us like
students and nothing else. Before we knew it the course was over and we all got As. To show
him our appreciation we gave him a farewell dinner at Lord Byrons Bar and Grill two blocks
away from campus. We ate, drank and sang until it was time to depart. We cheered him, he stood
up and bid us farewell with these verses,
When old age comes,
And the old body becomes frail,
You shall remain,
In the middle of the pain,
A friend to your friends,
To whom youll explain
Search for the truth and nothing else
Thats all that shall remain.
We all cried, paid the bill and left. I was about to head for my dorm when I had second thoughts
and came back in to tell him personally how much I had enjoyed his course. I found him at the
very end of the bar, sipping a stein of beer. I sat down next to him.
He looked me over and said, Georgina Eliot, first row, second seat from left to right. IQ,
165. Long time no see. Whats inside that pretty head of yours? And he took a sip of his beer.
I just wanted to tell you, Professor Gordon, how much I enjoyed your lectures. I want to
be a Literature Professor just like you. In fact Ive already been accepted at Harvard for the next
fall. They have a new PHD program that skips the Masters degree and lasts only three years.
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Im so grateful to you. I really learned a lot from your classes. I was particularly impressed with
the individuality of the romantic man and his desire to be himself.
He looked at me, put a smug look on his face, and then said, You girls are young and
inexperienced and dont know how to differentiate between myth and reality. The fact of the
matter is that the romantic man used that trick because he didnt like to work. It was better to
pretend that he had a special mission on this world to avoid work and justified his laziness.
Actually the only thing he really desire to do was to sit in a caf sipping wine, smoking pot and
bitching against the established mores. And he took a sip of his beer.
I managed to put a smile on my face and said, I also wanted to tell you how thrilled I
was to learn that the romantic man desire for freedom was basically an extension of the French
Revolutions principles of liberty, equality and fraternity. How touching.
Touching my ass, he said. The fact of the matter is that the romantic man adopted the
French Revolution motto of liberty, equality and fraternity because it was convenient to them.
Liberty to them meant to go around beating people up, assaulting convenient stores and robbing
banks. Equality to them meant to wear the same baggy pants, the same oversize shoes without
socks and the same long and dirty hair. Fraternity to them meant calling each other brother and
exchanging knives under the tables. And he took a sip of his beer.
Right, right, I said. But, you know, the thing that struck my soul the most was the
anger, the wrath, the rage and the passion the romantic man displayed against the frivolous
society in which he lived.
Humbug, he said, taking a sip of his beer. The fact of the matter is that the romantic
man was a high school dropout who couldnt understand the changes in science and technology
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brought about by the Enlightenment. Newtons Principia drove him nuts and in order to justify
his ignorance he opted for screaming, yelling and panting. A clear case of paranoia.
I was getting mad by the minute, but I managed to put a faint smile on my face and said,
Nevertheless, I really believe in the Romantic man quest for true, sincere love.
He laughed his head off and then said, Silly, silly, silly. The fact is that the romantic man
was so disappointed with the negative result of his quest that he had frequent bouts of
melancholia and as a result he couldnt get it up. To compensate for his inadequacy he turned to
compose poems for children like this one,
One, two, three, four, five, six,
I am a lover of the pasture and the trees,
And the hills, and the green sea,
And the cows and the friendly bees,
One, two, three, four, five and six.
What a ham, what a ham! Ha, ha, ha, ha! And he took a sip of his beer.
I took my faint smile off my face, put a sour face and told him, In spite of that, Dr.
Gordon, I must say that the romantic man established a mystical identification with God that was
unique.
He smacked his lips and then said, The fact of the matter, my idealistic friend, is that the
romantic man grew very weary when he tried to reach God using the three known steps of
mysticism: purgation, illumination and union. Purgation meant cleanliness, and that was out of
the question for the romantic man; illumination meant enlightenment, and that was also out of
the question for the romantic man and finally, union meant marriage, and that was, definitely, out
of the question for the romantic man. So, he decided to give up mysticism and embraced
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cynicism which in Greek meant dog, or god, spelled backward, and that was acceptable to the
romantic man, get it? And he took a sip of his beer.
I shook my head and then said, How about Rousseau, the father of Romanticism? In his
book Social Contract, he introduced the idea of leaving the corrupt society and returning to
nature. I think that his idea of fishing, camping, hiking, and collecting rocks was, and is, very
good for the pure at heart.
He took a sip of his beer and then said in a sonorous voice, The fact of the matter is that
just after he wrote his famous book Social Contract, Rousseau was attacked by a brown bear in
one of his outings and lost part of his brain. He ended up in a mental hospital, talking to himself
and throwing rocks to the nurses. Ha, ha, ha!
I was really steaming mad by now and shouted at him, How about Mary Wollstonecraft
Shelley, Percy Shelleys second wife? In her novel Frankenstein, she proved that even a monster
could be kind, gentle, and tender.
He shouted back at me, You ignorant air head. Youre talking about Frankenstein I, but
you dont know anything about Frankenstein II, do you? Let me put you up to date. Mary grew
so disgusted with her husbands infidelity that she created a feminine monster that did nothing
but kill every good-looking man that came into her path. And he took a sip of his beer.
But what about De Quinceys Autobiographic Sketches? I yelled at him. You have to
have guts to reveal your tormented soul to the public.
But how about De Quinceys Confessions of an English Opium-Eater? he yelled back.
He really had his guts exposed, ha, ha, ha! And he took a sip of his beer.
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I got off my stool and told him, You know what, Dr. Gordon, youre nothing but a faker,
a God damned faker. Im really disappointed at you.
Are you? he said, getting off his stool, and coming closer to me. Listen, Georgina, I
know why you sat in the front row and why you showed me your well-formed legs and your
pretty toes and why you flirted with me every time you saw me in the cafeteria and why you are
here tonight. Hold it! Dont say anything. Just listen. Super intelligent girls like you always
dream of having a love affair with an intelligent, experienced guy like me. Hold it! You dont
have to justify your actions. You knew what you wanted and I knew what you wanted, so we
both played the game. You pretended and I pretended. So what? Life is full of pretenders. The
police pretend that they care for your neighborhood drug dealers, the stockbrokers pretend that
they care for your IRAs, the doctors pretend that they care for your broken neck, the
pharmaceuticals companies pretend that they care for your fallen penis, the politicians pretend
that they care for your illiterate teen and so on and so forth. They all have an ulterior motive, of
course, but thats the way it is. Hold it! Let me finish. You know Im right and I know Im right.
You see, this experience is not new to me. It happens every summer session. In fact I have a
9x12 binder filled with names, addresses and phone numbers of all the girls I loved before.
When I get horny, I call one of my pretenders and they pretend once more. Now, having said
that, I want you to follow me to the parking lot and get in the rear seat of my car. Ill show you
how I pretend to have sex with you. And he took his wallet out, pulled a ten-dollar bill, put it on
top of the counter, put his wallet back in place, took my arm and said, Follow me.
But Im a virgin, I said feebly.
So were the other twenty girls before you, he said quickly. And led me to the parking
lot and to the rear seat of his car. We sat down next to each other.
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Lets pretend I strip you naked, he said.
He did.
Lets pretend you strip me naked, he said.
I did.
Lets pretend I kiss your mouth dry, he said.
He did.
Lets pretend you lick my neck and my ears, he said.
I did.
Lets pretend I suck your nipples until you start moaning, he said.
He did and I did.
Lets pretend I fondle your clitoris until it becomes erect, he said.
He did and it did.
Lets pretend you fondled my balls and my penis until I become an animal, he said.
I did and he did.
Lets pretend I push you down and put your legs over my shoulders, he said.
He did.
Lets pretend I take aim and blow away your chastity, he said.
He did.
Lets pretend that we both move our hips in unison until we both scream to the top of
our lungs as we reach the climax, he said.
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We did.
Now, lets pretend that we recovered out previous position on the rear seat and that we
get dressed, he said.
We did.
Lets pretend that we get out of the car, he said.
We did.
Lets pretend that I pull a small cooper ring out of my breast pocket and put it on your
left ear, he said.
He did.
Finally, lets go home and pretend that all this was a dream, he said.
We did. End of my experience.
Wonderful, wonderful, I cheered. And did you go to graduate school and became a
Professor of Literature?
Are you kidding? she said. Now I work for a tabloid and pretend Im writing
literature. I also pretend that I have sex with the movie stars in exchange for their dirty secrets.
Pretending is so much fun. You should try it sometimes.
Good idea. And whats your advice to your sisters?
She got up from the bench and said, Listen, sisters: look for Dr.Gordons summer visits,
take his course on romanticism and learn how to pretend.
Excellent advice, Georgina, excellent advice, I said. I thank you very much.
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By the way, she said, when can I have my directory?
By next fall, I said. Call your alma mater bookstore and get your free copy. Okay?
Okay, she said, and got up and got lost in the crowd.
I smiled, got up, walked to the nearest street vendor and ordered me a big chunk of
Caribbean fried alligator in a mango sauce, a portion of green fried plantains and three bottles of
Mexican beer. Within five minutes my dinner was ready. I paid for and then had the whole thing
standing by the vendors cart. After that, I burped like an alligator and went home. I got in, raced
toward my bed, did a double somersault and landed on my left end table. Black curtain down.
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Day 8
Meet the gang or Is your bellybutton bright red?
Next afternoon I woke up after five oclock, picked up the pieces of my left end table,
dumped them in trash can, got busy doing all of my ings, and when I found myself attractive
enough I went to the kitchen, prepared me a cup of Cuban coffee and then sat in front of the TV
sipping my steaming brew. I was about to click the news channel when the phone rang. I turned
the idiot box off, finished my coffee, put the empty cup in the kitchen sink and then picked the
ringing devil up. Cisco Bravo, I yelled.
Hello, Mr. Bravo, its me, Tatiana. Im back from Washington. I have an important
message for you from Sydney Roderick. Meet me tonight at Perestroika Restaurant on Coral
Way at seven oclock. Okay?
Sounds good to me, Tatiana.
See you at seven, Mr. Bravo, she said, signing off.
I hunk up, smiled, and out I went. To slain or be slain. Whatever.
Down in Lummus Park the wheel of life was turning as usual. A tourist was being
assaulted by a swarm of longhair teens. They circled him, tripped him, kicked him, and when the
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guy stopped moving, they proceeded to take off everything he had on, including his clothes. The
poor fellow just lay there on the dirty street, belly up and penis down. Nobody paid any attention
to him and neither did I. I called a taxi and within two hours I was in front of the restaurant. I
paid the cabbie and went in.
A fat toothless hostess greeted me. I told her that my mistress was waiting for me and
she smiled broadly and said, Is you name Bravo?
Yes it is. I said.
Center table. The lady in black.
I walked into the dining room, stretched my neck and did a one hundred and eightydegree survey until I saw Tatiana sitting in the center of the dining room. Our eyes met, she
waved at me, Russian style and I raised my hand, Mussolini style. She beckoned me and I made
my way through the crowded tables. When I reached her table, I grabbed a chair and sat down.
Hi, Mr. Bravo. Thank you for coming, she said. I have good news for you.
I was going to open my big mouth when all of a sudden a waiter, dressed like a Cossack,
popped up by our table.
Evening, folks, he said, putting the two menus on top of the table. Something from the
bar? Or maybe some appetizers? Madam?
No appetizers. I want meat, lots of meat. Bring me a double order of Beef Stroganoff
with plenty of fried potatoes and a bottle of Stalinoska vodka. Thats all.
Thank you, madam. And the gentleman?
A Mexican beer for me, I said
Thank you, the waiter said. And left.
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I started the conversation. You said that you have a message for me from Sydney. Why
didnt he come in person?
She put a candid smile on her face. He had to attend a party sponsored by the Foreign
Graduate Students Commission. Let me explain.
Okay, explain, I said.
Well, its like this. Everybody thinks that I know where Dr. Stratton is. The truth is that
I dont, but nobody believes me. Major Owens, his nephew Douglas and now Mohammad are
after me.
Mohammad who? I said casually.
Mohammad-Al-Raschid, one of Sydneys student. I met him at a party given by Sydney
at the Institute of Social Research in Hialeah last weekend. He was there with his three cousins
Ali, Abdul and Faisal.They looked different and acted differently from the other students, I
mean; they were darker, taller and kept to themselves. They never shook my hand and kept
looking at me in a menacing way. They scare the hell out of me. I turned around, mingle with the
other student and after the party was over and Sydney was taking me home I asked him about
them and he told me that they were exchange students from Iran. Well, two days ago I was
coming out of my church in Kendall when I saw Mohammad walking toward me. I stopped and
he came closer, squeezed my right arm and then asked me in a sinister voice, Where is Dr
Stratton? I need to know. If you dont tell me right now Im going to rip you off from your neck
to your bellybutton. And he pulled a long switchblade out of his pocket. I quickly kicked him
on the shin, he cried out in pain, and dropped the blade. I took advantage of the situation and ran
back inside the church. I stayed there for a couple of hours before coming out. He was nowhere
in sight. Oh, Mr. Bravo, Im terrified. Why people have to be this way? Why cant we all live in
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peace? Goddamn world! Why?

I was going to answer her when the waiter reappeared. Here youre, folks, he said
putting the food and the drinks on top of the table. Enjoy, enjoy. And left.
Tatiana looked at the food, smelled it and all of a sudden attacked her food and her drink
with fork, knife and hands. Wow! She became oblivious to her surroundings and she just ate and
drank and drank and ate until the food was all gone and the bottle empty. Ahhhh, she
exclaimed. There is nothing like Russian food. Excuse me. What was hic, your next question,
hairy man?
I guess we got lost in the conversation. Lets go back to the real issue. Whats the
message you have for me?
Yes, the message. Yes, Sydney claims that, hic, hic, he knows where Dr Stratton is and
wants to make a deal with you. He
I cut her off. Wait a second. How did he find out where Dr Stratton is?
Sheer luck, she said. Sydney told me that last night he was driving along North
Collins Avenue on his way home when he decided to stop at a convenience store to buy some
beer. When he was about to get down from his car he saw Dr Stratton coming out of the store
carrying two brown bags in his hands and getting into his car. He followed him to his hideout
and thats how he knows where Dr Stratton is. Satisfied?
I think thats a lot of bull, Tatiana. You want me to believe that silly lucky event. Caca!
But Im going to give you the benefit of a doubt. Okay, whats the deal?
Sydney and I are in love. We want to get married, go to Russia and, hic, hic, hic, live
happily ever after. The only obstacle to our dream is Mohammad. He will kill me no question
about it. So here is the deal: you kill Mohammad and his cousins and then Sydney will tell you
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where Dr. Stratton is. You get what you want and, hic, hic, hic, hic, we get what we want. What
do you say?
What about Dr Stratton your dear boss?
What about him? Now that Im going t marry Sydney he can go to hell. For all I know,
hic, he may be dead by now. Hey, I have to look for myself.
Of course, Tatiana. Youre only human. Okay, I can do that. Now tell me where and
when am I supposed to find Sydney, Muhammad and his cousins?
Okay. Mohammad called me unexpectedly this morning and offered me half a million
dollars in exchange for Dr Strattons whereabouts. I, hic, hic, I told him that, yes, that I accepted
his offer, to meet me tomorrow evening, between eight and nine oclock, at Bay front Park of the
Americas, by JFK Torch of Friendship. He agreed. Sydney will be around in someplace close by.
So there you have it.
I see that you guys had the whole thing planned, didnt you?
Yes, we had. This was the, hic, hic, hic, only solution to our problem. Please Mr. Bravo,
please, go and do some killing. After all this is what you do for a living. Do we have a deal?
Just answer me one more question. Why doesnt Sydney get in touch with Major Owens
instead?
Are you kidding? she said. Sydney hates anything that has to do with, hic, hic, hic,
hic, the American government. No way.
Okay, I said.Do you want another drink?
No, I dont. I think Im getting sick. I need some fresh air. Get me out of here.
I grabbed her right arm and told her, Ill get you out of here in a second. Dont you get
sick on me, you hear?
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She shook herself off, and shouted, Freak you, Mohammad, freak you, Iranian terrorist.
I want to, hic, hic, hic, to go back to, hic, hic, hic, to my country. And she ran toward the exit
door.
A waiter ran after her, caught up with her, and grabbed her by her shoulder. Calm down,
lady, calm down.
Tatiana shook herself free and then used her right elbow to hit the waiter over the bridge
of his nose. He fell down, spewing blood from his nose. Tatiana jumped over his body and... the
lights went out. Pandemonium ensued. Screaming, yelling, cursing, sound of broken glasses and
dishes, you name it. A smoker lit a cigarette and I saw Tatiana leaning against one of the
columns of the dining room. I ran toward her, tackled her, threw her body over my shoulder and
got out of the inferno and into the parking lot. I put her down gently. Tatiana, Tatiana, are you
okay? I asked her.
She opened her eyes, embraced me, and said, Mr. Bravo, please save me, save me from,
hic, Mohammad. Please! Then she stopped talking, spat a big wad of foamy saliva, took a deep
breath of air and burped noisily. She opened her mouth and gasped for air. Another burp
followed the first. She opened her mouth wide and said, Ohhhhhhhhhhh! Ohhhhhhhh!
Ooooooooaaaahh! I dont feel so good. Ohhhh! Ohhh! I think Im getting, siiiick! Watch out!
And she vomited all the Russian food over my coat.
Shit! Look what youve done. You goddamned bitch, I said.
She answered me with a loud snore and I slapped her face.
What the hell do you think youre doing, Mr. Bravo? an angry and familiar voice
shouted behind my back.
I turned around and saw Karen McGregor staring angrily at me. Answer me, you
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bastard! What are you doing to that poor girl? And she approached us.
I stood up and told her, She just wanted me to do her a favor.
You degenerate animal! she screamed, and swung a vicious right to my face. I quickly
stepped aside and her small fist passed me by, followed by the rest of her body. She fell on top of
the snoring Tatiana.
Dont mind her foul breath, I told her. Be a sport and give her mouth-to-mouth
resuscitation. Shell appreciate that. See you, Mac. And walked out a couple of blocks, whistled
a taxi and within the hour I was entering my castle. I undressed, took a shower, dropped my body
in the couch and took a break from the hell of living.
?????
Valentina. The funny side of civilization or Is History fact or fiction?
Three hours later I got up, dressed up, put my cap on, grabbed my recorder and out I went
to find me an uncut girl. Ocean Drive was packed with fat tourists and thin hookers. Everybody
was happy. Or seemed to be. I couldnt care less so I pushed my way through until I got to my
handpicked bench. I sat down and waited for my prey. Ten minutes later a guy came over and sat
down by me. I looked at him and he looked at me. He had Asian features, was kind of young,
and almost as tall as I was. His eyes were black, and his hair was short, curly and also black. He
face was inscrutable of course. He was wearing a white sleeveless T-shirt on his muscular torso
and a very tight khaki Bermuda shorts on his firm thighs. His legs were well formed and sturdy
and his feet were covered with graphite leather pointed shoes. I thought that I was looking at a
Chinese version of the jungle man.
Mr. Bravo, Im sure, he said in a Chinese voice. Im Lee KY. We need to talk.
Its about time, Lee KY, I said. Ive been waiting for you. What kept you?
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He moved his thin lips. I went to Hong Kong for a week to participate in a karate
competition and got back just yesterday. As soon as I entered my apartment I checked my
answering machine and found an urgent message from an old client of mine, Emma Hardbutt I
called her and we met this morning. She told me her problem and thats why I came to see you.
She said to forgive her for being so rude to you and to tell you that shes willing to increase her
offer to $125,000 and a whole month vacation in Guadalajara, all expenses paid. Is that
satisfactory to you?
I said, What if I say nay?
He extended his right leg and then said, Then I have to break both your legs and put you
in a wheel chair. You have twenty-four hours to think it over. After that, your legs are mine.
What do you say?
I looked at my legs and then looked at him again. You scare the hell out of me, Lee.
Okay, tell Emma that I accept her offer. From now on Ill be working for her. And to show my
appreciation Im going to share with you the two leads that Ive been able to put together so far.
He retracted his leg and then showed me his white and even teeth. Hey, thatll be great.
Itll save me a great deal of time. Go ahead.
I interviewed at least ten Professors at FIU and they all told me that Dr. Stratton had two
hobbies: mojitos Cuban Style, and domino Cuban style. To drink mojitos Cuban style, he used to
go every night to la calle ocho and have as many mojitos as Papa Hemingway used to have in
Old Havana. And to play domino Cuban style, he used to go every Sunday to Domino Park
located on the intersection of la calle ocho and 15th Avenue and spent the whole day there,
playing the white-and-black-tiles, drinking Cuban espresso coffee and smoking Cohiba cigars.
Ive been working on his first hobby for a week now without any results and just yesterday I
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went to Domino Park to check on his second hobby but unfortunately the game was cancelled on
account of a gunfight between two of the players. You go ahead and start checking the left side
of Eight Street while I continue working the right side. Next Sunday well go together to Domino
Park and wait until Dr. Stratton shows up. Okay, nin com poop?
Hey, what did you call me? he said, kind of cross.
I called you nin com poop. It means distinguish private eye in Cuban slang, I said.
Thats better. I dont like to be insulted. Yes, I think thats a good idea. Ill start
checking the bars along the left side of Eight Street from Brickell Avenue to the Turnpike
tonight. Hey, thanks. Now let me give you the last instructions. If you find him first call me at
(305) 777-7777, and if I find him first, Ill call you at home. Okay?
Right, nin com poop.
See you, he said, and got up and melted in the crowd.
I smiled and kept on waiting for my next virgin. One hour later a girl came by, stopped in
front of me, pointed at my cap and said, What on earth are you doing? Thats my second home.
Are you a con man, a stand-up comedian or just another weirdo?
Before answering I gave her my eye routine. She was wearing large ecru tennis shoes
without socks, an oversized taupe short, and a loose stucco blouse over her two cantaloupes. Her
body was round and so was her face. She wasnt pretty and she wasnt sexy either. I figured that
she had lived three decades plus five or maybe six years. She looked like a donut sprinkled with
confetti to me.
No, Im not a con man, a stand-up comedian or a weirdo. Sit down and Ill explain
what Im up to.
She sat down, I explained, got my recorder out and she told me her tale. Like this.
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My name is Valentina Valenti and I got a secret Id like to share with my sisters. My
parentsrest in peace always wanted me to be a doctor because, they said, it was the noblest
of all profession and because, they said, it was the most profitable. I went along with their wish
just to please them and enrolled in the premed program offered by The Order. Of course my
parents were very proud of me and encouraged me to go on to medical school. However, my
heart wasnt in a medical career because I simply didnt have the stomach to deal with sick
people. The odor, the screaming, and the suffering were all too much for my sensitive soul. What
I really wanted in life was to become a writer, a comedy writer. I figured that laughter was better
than castor oil. Thats why when my parents passed away in a car accident I quit my premed
studies and switched my major to Literature. Before I knew it I was in front of a bunch of unruly
high school brats trying to teach them the beauty of the writing words. Of course they couldnt
care less, dubbed me Funny Valentina and played all kinds of pranks on me. One day they
threw cherry bombs at me; another day they gave me a hair cut; another day they stripped me
naked; another day they put a dead rat inside my handbag; another day they staged a soccer game
inside my classroom. And on and on and on. After a year of frustration and humiliation I quit my
teaching job and tried my hand at writing comedy. I decided to write about the funny side of
civilization and to my surprise I was an overnight success. I got the recognition I craved and the
money my parents desired. I felt that I had fulfilled my destiny.
That sounds very interesting, I said. Can you give me some examples of the funny
side of civilization?
I thought you never ask, she said. This is my scheme. I tell my readers that I bought a
time machine in the Internet and that every night instead of watching TV I take a ride into the
past civilizations and had my fun. For instance one night I decided to go to 1700 BC Babylonia
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and pay a visit to Hammurabi, King of Babylonia and author of the Code of Hammurabi, the
best-known collection of laws of the ancient world. I found him sitting under a tree, staring at the
sky, a writing pad on his lap and a stylus in his right hand. He was completely naked.
Me: Hi, Ham. My name is Funny Valentina and Im a visitor from the future. I see that youre
having trouble with your Code of Laws. Let me help you out.
Ham: Thanks Shamash. My brain stopped working and I really need a helpful hand. Go ahead;
give me some new, fresh laws for the future generations.
Me: Lets see. New law 1. If a man chews off another mans ear, then he should be taken to the
dentist and have all of his teeth pulled out. If he has any golden teeth they should be given to the
one ear man as retribution.
Ham: Right on. Give me another one.
Me: New law 2. If an elected official has oral sex with one of his interns then he should be
forced to wear a pacifier around his neck for the rest of his life.
Ham: Bulls eye. Give me another one.
Me: New law 3. If a man plucks out another mans eye then he should have both of his eyes
removed. In the event that the victim had only one eye them the offender should be deprived of
his two ears and his nose.
Ham: I like that. Give me another one.
Me: New law 4. If a man finds his wife fornicating with his best friend then she should be
forced to work for free in the local whorehouse for ten years. In the mean time he should be
allowed to have sex with his best friends wife for the same period of time.
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Ham: A fair exchange. Give me another one.

Me: New law 5. If a doctor makes a mistake and saws off the right foot of a diabetic instead of
the left foot then he should be forced to pay for the patients glucose meter, test strips, lancets,
blood tests, and prescription drugs until doomsday. Also the doctor will be prohibited to eat
cookies and or ice cream.
Ham: Well said. Freaking doctors. Give me another one.
Me: New law 6. If a man sells another man a defective convertible then the salesman will be
forced to live inside the topless car for a whole summer.
Ham: Thats a hot one. Give me another one.
Me: New law 7. If a man shoots his wife in the mouth then the shooter should be forced to live
with his mother-in-law for the rest of his life.
Ham: A mouth for a mouth. I like that. Give me another one.
Me: New law 8. If a man has an overgrown penis and he goes around town in shorts showing
his piece to everybody then he should be forced to wear jeans without a zipper.
Ham: He had it coming. Exhibitionist! Give me another one.
Me: New law 9. If a politician breaks his campaign promises and raises taxes then he should be
forced to stop smiling for the rest of his term. If hes caught smiling then he should have his lips
sewn with catgut.
Ham: I guess that hes going to be fed thru his nose. Nice going. Give me one more.
Me: New law 10. If a man kills a convenience store clerk then the killer should be forced to take
the dead man place in the store.
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Ham: An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Freaking fair. Hey, thanks a bunch. Now I feel
better. See you in the future.
Me: I hope so, Ham. Bye-bye. And I returned to my time. Well, did you enjoy it?
That was great fun Funny Valentina. Can you give me another example? But this time
make it closer to our time, willya?
Sure thing friend. Another night I decided to take a look at the funny side of Adolph
Hitler. I went back to April 29, 1945. I found Adolph walking up and down inside his
underground bunker talking to a dead blonde lying on the couch.
Me: Good evening, Fuehrer. Dont get alarmed. Im a visitor from the next century and Im here
to hear in your own words whats been bugging you. Go ahead make my night.
Adolph: From the future, huh? Good. And you want to listen to my gripes. Super. But first tell
me, whats that rumbling sound I hear? Am I crazy or something?
Me: Thats the sound of the Iranian tanks, Adolph. Theyre coming closer and closer.
Adolph: Does this mean that Im going to die?
Me: Of course, Adolph. Theyll hang you by your feet and feed you nothing but dry onion
bagels every other Saturday day until you die.
Adolph: See what I mean? Theyre picking on me. All I did was to point out that the blackhaired Jewish teenagers were seducing our blonde-haired German girls. That was a deliberate act
on their part to lower the racial level of our superior Aryan culture. My gripe was more than
justified, wasnt it?
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Me: Not quite, Adolph. The fact of the matter is that the Aryan girls loved to be possessed by
the short, dark strangers with long, fat, defiant circumcised penis. Many of them wrote about
their sexual experiences after the war.
Adolph: Those silly girls. How about the Jewish influence on economic affairs? Tell me about
that one! Those greedy bastards always managed to buy low and sell high making a lot of money
in the process. They claimed that their God Yahweh gave them some inside tips on when to buy
and when to sell. Of course, within months they became the controllers of the stock exchange
and, by extension, of the national labor force. An intolerable situation!
Me: Silly, silly, silly. Didnt you know that Goebbels, Goering, Mussolini and Franco bought
and sold at the same time? Francos mistress was a descendant of the Sephardic Jews expelled
from Spain in the sixteen century and gave Franco the signal as when to buy and when to sell
and, naturally, he passed on to his the cronies. They never told you, of course, because they knew
that you were an agnostic.
Adolph: And Im still one, what the hell! Religion was certainly not one of my worries. The
only thing that mattered to me was the expansion of the motherland through the use of lies,
propaganda and deception, not prayers to an invisible God. And I proved it, didnt I?
Me: Yes, but in the process you developed OBS or Organic Brain Disorder which is
characterized by inability to focus attention, random psychomotor activity, depression, anxiety,
irritability, aggression and exhibitionism. Remember when you took your erect penis out during
a visit to a Munich kindergarten?
Adolph: He, he, he, he, he. A prank that was only a prank. I was never sick, ever. My arms were
so strong that I could lift two hundred pounds with my right arm.
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Me: Right, right, Adolph. That was until you got Carpal Tunnel Syndrome due to the repetitive
use of your right hand. Hail Hitler!
Adolph: So, what? Who needs two hands anyway? Huh? Whats was that noise?
Me: Somebody is knocking at the door. The Russians are coming to kill you, thats all.
Adolph: Is there a way out of this hole? Say, how did you get in here?
Me: In a time machine, Adolph.
Adolph: Take me to the future with you. Ill give you Alsace and Lorraine plus part of Poland.
What do you say?
Me: Sorry, Adolph, but the time machine is a one-seater. My advice to you is to shoot yourself.
Just close your eyes put the muzzle of the gun inside your right nostril and pretend youre
picking your nose. No sweat, no pain.
Adolph: Bang!
Me: Id better get the hell out of here. They are tearing down the door. Hail Hitler, asshole!
And I came back to my century. Well did you like it?
I love it! Now I got the idea on how you found satisfaction in life. And what was the
secret you said you were going to share with your sisters of The Order?
Right on. I almost forgot. Yes, yes, my secret is that when it comes to your career, you
should always follow your gut feeling and not your parents appetite.
A wise advice. I have only one more question, if you dont mind. How about sex? How
did you manage that part of your life?
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Im glad you asked about that. You know, I always worried about my sex life because I
knew that I wasnt pretty and I also knew that I wasnt sexy either. When my estrogens kicked
me on my Mount Veneris I let my fingers do the trick. But I always dreamed with the real thing.
One night my dream became a reality. I was having my eleventh drink in a Coconut Grove bar
when this young guy came out of nowhere and sat next to me. The bartender came running,
extended his hand and told him, Gary, Gary quite contrary, how are you? Havent seen you in a
long time. Whats down?
The guy shook his hand and then said, The unusual thing, Bill. Dont give me a tall glass
of bourbon. The bartender filled a tall glass of bourbon, handed to him, smiled and said, There
you go, Gary. Dont enjoy it. And walked away laughing his head off.
I was intrigued by this exchange of words so I took a second look at my neighbor. He
was wearing a dirty T-shirt, khaki shorts and suede blue shoes. His face was covered with a thick
beard and his eyes were covered with clear bifocals. He certainly looked like an intellectual slob.
He glanced at me and said, Hi, Slim. Having a bad time?
I nodded and told him, Yes, bad-looking. You certainly smell good.
He laughed and leaned closer to me. I see you dont understand my game. He put his
arms around my waist and whispered into my ear, You know, Slim, you dont look like my
High School music teacher. She was my first lay. Shall we dance tonight?
No way. Where is the music playing?
He grabbed me by my arm and told me, Outside, in my old car. Lets go and sit still in
the front seat.
How did you know that I didnt want to get laid tonight?
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You had your legs tightly closed and your lips were completely dry. Wrong?
Wrong. Dont drill my brains out. Time is not of the essence. Lets walk!
We ran to his car, got inside the front seat of his new car, and we talked. Like this.
Gary: I dont like to suck your lips. And he didnt.
Me: I dont like you to put your tongue inside my ears. And he didnt.
Gary: I dont like to bite your nipples. And he didnt.
Me: I dont like you to fondle my clitoris. And he didnt.
Gary: I dont like you to grab my small penis. And I didnt.
Me: Dont be careful. Im not a virgin. Go fast and move slowly. Now! Go, go, go,
ohhhhh, ohhhhh, ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Wow! That was bad. Very bad. Hey, Johnny, youre not a
AAA lover. Well, I hope I dont see you every other Friday in this place. Disagree?'
He didnt laugh and then said, Disagree. Next time I wont play for you music from the
sixties. Dont leave now. Im not going to sleep right here. Bad night.
Bad night, I said picking all my clothing and getting dress, I mean, undress. Then I went
home singing this song,
Im happy, Im lucky,
Hes unhappy, Hes unlucky,
He feels down, He feels yucky,
I feel thrill, I feel driiiiiiiiill, oh, yeaaaaahhhh.
And that was my first encounter with a bat. How do you like it?
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That was the most original sexual encounter of the first time Ive ever heard. Gracias a
lot. So, what is your advice to your sisters?

Oh, yeah. Sisters, Coconut Grove is the best place in the world to get laid. Plenty of
crazy guys around. Pick your favorite one and pretend youre French. He wont understand what
youre saying but hell understand your gestures. Know what I mean? Have fun!
Absolutely ingenious! Thanks a lot. The Directory will be ready by next spring. Just call
your friendly bookstore.
I will, she said, and got up and left.
I got up and looked for the closest street vendor. Within five minutes and a half I came
across Panchos Burritos. I ordered five Grande Pork Burritos and five bottles of Mex beer. I
got my brown bag and my amber beer and then it was pork and beer, pork and beer, pork and
beer, pork and beer, and pork and beer until it was all gooooone! Bueno. I burped like Villa,
discharged my bladder into the five empty bottles and then headed home. Within twenty-two
minutes was back inside my dear home. I undressed, sat in front of the TV and clicked on the
animal channel. Animals and Desire was just beginning. The segment was about the life of
Panthera Leo, the biggest pimp in the whole wild world. Leo spent most of his day sleeping and
scratching his dirty belly while Lea, his whore, roamed the plains at night to bring the bacon to
her master. He never worked a day in his entire life, except when the mating season came along
and Lea went wild with desire for a guy with plenty of dirty hair. Leo noticed the change in Lea,
but played a little of reverse psychology, ignoring her for a while until Lea couldnt take it
anymore and started licking Leos dirty balls. He gave her a whack on her short mane and then
mounted her thirty times a day for three days. What a guy, what a guy! I shouted at the screen.
Finally, Lea had her fill, roared gratefully, kissed his lacerated penis and trotted away. The King
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smiled, rolled over a couple of times and then went to sleep. End of the segment. Way to go,
Leo! This world belongs to us, the freaking mucho macho guys, what the hell! I yelled with
gusto. The next segment was about pigeons so I clicked the TV off, got up, did a triple
somersault and landed right in the center of my bed. My eyes pulled the shades down.
ZZZZZZZZ.
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Day 9
Two down, two to go or Is your eye out of focus?
The next day I was awakened by a hell of a thunderstorm about four in the ugly
afternoon. Like Zeno of Elea (c. 490-430 BC) used to say, Rain aint pretty. I got up, took
short piss in a glass, checked my urine for smell and odor went to the bathroom, finished
discharging my bladder and then did number two trick. Again, I checked for color and odor.
Okay. My kidneys were working well, and so was my digestive system. Good. I flushed the toilet
and checked my skin, looking for rashes, but found none. Super. I used the mirror to check my
E.E.N.T. My Eyes were shining like crazy, so I figured they were 20/20; my Ears were free of
wax and I could hear myself in the empty room, so I knew they were in good working condition;
my Nose was between my eyes and above my lips, so I was certain that I looked normal and my
Throat looked pink and healthy. Cool. I moved on to my cardio-respiratory systems. I did thirty
push-ups, listened to my heartbeat and checked my pulse. Greeeeeat! Next, I inspected my glans,
my shaft, my scrotum and my overgrown balls. AAA. My legs were sturdy and so were my feet.
How about my blood? The creases of my hands were as pink as my penis, so I knew that I wasnt
anemic. I gave me an AAA on my self-physical and then proceeded to do all my ings until I
found myself pretty to a point. Then I went to the kitchen, fried me half a pound of bacon and
had it with a dozen whole-wheat pieces of toast and a pot of cappuccino coffee. Damn good. I
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cleaned my mess, washed my hands and my nose, got up and dashed out. To waste or be wasted.
Whatever.
Downstairs, in Lummus Park, life kept on going as usual. An old lady was in the process
of robbing a pair of tourists. She wasnt using a gun, but a fake vintage wristwatch. The suckers
bought the junk piece and the little old lady made her day. So, what? Shes too old to work and
her social security is probably too small. Way to go grandma.
I whistled a cab and told the driver to take me to Bayfront Park of the Americas. She/he
did. I paid her/him, got out of the cab and strolled around the perimeter of the Park to familiarize
myself with the surroundings and to see if Tatiana and Sydney were in the proximity. Nope.
They were not. All I saw was a lot of homeless drinking sweet wine, smoking pot and making
love. I shrugged and sat on one of the benches facing South Biscayne Boulevard. I kept on
looking for the pair. Nothing.
Across the street, a bunch of people was holding a demonstration in front of an abortion
clinic. There was a lot of shouting, chanting and screaming going on.
A man passed in front of me, stopped to take a look at the pro-life bunch and then turned
to me and said, I just dont understand how a doctor can kill an innocent baby? Do you know
that twenty-two days after fertilization the human heart begins to beat? And he sat down by my
side.
I glanced at his attire. He was wearing a worn-out black coat, baggy black pants, a brown
shirt, a shiny black hat, rimmed glasses and brown shoes. A long ashen beard covered his face
and his coiled sideburns reached down to his shoulders. In his right hand he held a black
briefcase. I sniffed at his body and said, Okay, Douglas, whats on your mind?
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He looked at me, surprised. How did you know it was me? he said.
Your fledging voice and your brand of cologne are two giveaways. Come on, amigo,
whats on your freaking mind?

He cleared his throat, put the briefcase on the bench and said, Listen, Mr. Bravo, I have
something to tell you and something to offer you. First of all, let me tell you that Tatianas phone
is tapped and thats how we found out about your meeting with her at Perestroikas. Then Karen
and I, with the cooperation of the management, bugged your table at Perestroikas and listened to
all of your conversation with Tatiana from the parking lot. We know why you are here tonight.
He paused, pointed to the briefcase and said, See this briefcase? It contains one hundred
thousand dollars. Half is for you. As soon as Sydney tells you where Dr. Stratton is hiding, you
knock him out, drag his body to the back of the park and pretend youre searching through his
clothing. Mohammad is around here someplace watching Im sure, and he will try to kill you and
force Sydney to tell him where the old man is hiding. Of course, you dont have to be afraid,
since, as soon as Mohammad shows up, Ill move in, apprehend him and rescue Sydney and you.
Naturally, Sydney will tell us where Dr. Stratton is hiding, and that will be the end of this caper.
Oh, yes, the other half of the hundred thousand goes to Sydney and Tatiana. As a wedding
present, you know. Everybody will be happy. What do you say?
Who dreamed this plan? I asked him.
Karen and I, he said proudly. We put our two brains together and came out with the
perfect solution. Pretty good, huh?
And how about the money? How did you guys manage to get that kind of dough? I
said.
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Karens daddy, of course. Hes a billionaire. Computers, you know. Ever heard of W.G.
McGregor?
Yes, I heard about him, I said. A fat guy with a fat wallet.
Thats him, all right. So, what do you say? Do we have a deal?
Not quite, I said. Tell Karen that Im not that cheap. Tell her that my price is a cool
million, after taxes, that is. Take it or leave it. Now, get out of my sight. Get!
He picked up the briefcase and scurried away. I got up and wandered around the park
until darkness fell upon the city. No sign of Sydney and/or Tatiana.
Across the street things have gotten worse because a group of pro-choice people have
gotten into the act. They hurled eggs and insults at the pro-life fans. The pro-life charged at the
pro-choice and an ugly fight followed. Kicks, punts, karate chops, hooks, uppercuts, head butts,
and a lot of crying and cursing. I watched with excitement and cheered at them, Way to go,
ladies! After a while, the police showed up and broke up the melee. I laughed at them, and
resumed my walk.
I went once around the park and was about to sit again on the same bench, when
somebody tapped on my right shoulder. I turned around and faced Karen McGregor disguised as
a policewoman in distress, I mean, her cap was askew, her shirt torn, her pants covered with egg
yolks, her gun gone and her mouth covered with dry blood. Pro-life or pro-choice, Mac? I
asked her.
Thats not funny, buster, not funny at all, she said, straightening her cap. Those ladies
have no respect for authority, no respect at all. I got caught in the middle of the fight and the prolife kicked my rear while the pro-choice smacked my mouth, knocked me down and stole my
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gun. Jesus! Those ladies are no ladies. She looked to her left, looked to her right and then said,
I wonder what happened to Douglas. He was also caught in the turmoil. Did he talk to you?
Yes, he did, I said.
And? she asked.
I told him that I had plans of my own.
Oh, yeah, like what? she said.
Your daddy will have to cough up a million dollars, tax free, so I can retire to Australia
and spend all of my time eating, drinking, fishing, and ... look, there is Douglas coming. It looks
like those ladies got the best out of him too.
Douglas staggered toward us. He had no hat, no coat, no shirt, no glasses, no shoes, no
beard, no sideburns, no pants, no underwear, and no briefcase. Tears ran down his pale cheeks.
Karen held him by his skinny shoulders. Doug, Doug, she said with apprehension,
what happened? Are you okay?
He wiped the tears off his beady eyes and then put both hands over his flaccid,
uncircumcised penis. I was assaulted by two pro-choice girls. They beat the hell out of me.
They even, sorry Karen, stole your money. Im so sorry.
She patted him on his scrawny shoulders. Dont you worry about the money, Doug. No
big deal. She turned to me and said, Listen, buster, Im going to make you my last offer. Take
it or leave it. Im willing to pay you two hundred thousand dollars for your services. What do
you say?
There is Sydney! I yelled, pointing to an empty space behind us. They both looked
back. I pushed both of them to the ground and they both kiss the dirt.
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Hasta la vista, lovers! I yelled at them and walked briskly toward the back of the park.
I didnt see anybody there, just a bunch of trees. At that very moment my pissing neurons sent a
signal to my brain and I hurried to discharge my bladder. I picked a large bushy tree, opened my
fly, took my hose out and discharged my bladder. Ahhhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhh!
Ahhhhhh! Ahh! Ahh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! Ahhhhhhhhhhhh! Ahhh! Ahhh! Ah! Ah! Ah! I shook
my hose up and down and down and up until the dripping stopped, put my hose back in place,
closed my fly and started to move again when, all of a sudden, I heard a hissing sound.
Pssssst, pssst, pssssst, Bravo, pssst, over here, over here, a voice whispered. Its me,
Tatiana. Over here, on the tree.
I looked up and saw the outline of a person perched on a branch of the bushy tree. What
the hell are you doing there? I said. And where is Sydney?
Im hiding from Mohammad, she whispered. He and his cousin Abdul are around here
someplace. They are disguised as homeless. We spotted them on the North side of the Park, by
the Visitor Information Center. Good thing they never saw us. Sydney became so frightened of
Mohammad that he decided to wait in the lobby of the International Hotel on the South side of
the Park and wait there until you have killed them both. I chose this hideout and waited until you
passed close by. An old trick from my childhood days. So, you go ahead, do your thing, and then
come back here and well go together to see Sydney, okay?
Sure thing, I said.
Uh-oh! she said. Ooooooh! I think that this branch is giving up. Definitely, this branch
is going to, ooooooogggghhh! Im falling. Ooooooohhhhhhhoohhhh! She fell down and her
body hit the ground beside me. She lay still.
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I bent down, inspected the back of her head and found a big lump right over her medulla.
My mind flashed an urgent message, Coma due to brain stem damage. Call 911. I started to get
up when something very hard and bony hit me on top of my head. I fell down, stars in my eyes.
All yours, Abdul, a hoarse voice said. Hes the man who killed your brother Ali. Kill
him every way you like. After youre done with him, you can rape the girl and then bring her
body to the van. Ill be waiting for you by the curb. Kill and carry, you understand? Just like the
double-crosser infidel in the hotel. Understand?
I got it, Mohammad, I got it. a croaking voice said. Kill and carry. Right.
I heard footsteps walking away. I waited two more seconds and then proceeded to roll
over as fast as I could, grabbed a handful of dirt, did a somersault and landed upright in front of a
seven-foot man who was coming after me like the classical mummy. I threw the dirt inside his
eyes and he stopped in his big track, shook his head and then reached for his handkerchief. I
didnt waste any time and kicked him five consecutive times over his massive chest. He
staggered back and I kicked him again, this time over his left ear. He fell on his knees. I grabbed
his hair, pulled his head back and then pushed my right middle finger into his right socket and
plucked out his right eyecornea, pupil, iris, optic nerve and optic vesselsin a swift
movement. He yelled, Oooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuuuchhh! and put his right hand over his
right empty socket. I quickly drew my gun, pushed the barrel into his left eye and fired one
round. His head jerked violently backwards and I let go of him. His body hit the dirt and lay
there, quietly and very dead. I ran out from under the tree, gun still smoking in my hand, and
looked toward my left, looking for Mohammad. I saw a yellow van, motor running, parked by
the curb. I also saw Mohammads head behind the wheel. I fired one shot at him, but he ducked
his head and the bullet kept on going and hit the wall behind. I aimed again, but the van suddenly
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took off and vanished. Out of sight. I returned my gun to its bed and started looking for a phone
booth. I didnt see any around the premises, but I did see Karen running toward my humble self.
I let her come closer to me. Ten feet, five feet and one foot.
I heard a shot, she said, out of breath. What happened? Where is Sydney? Where is
Tatiana?
I pointed toward the bushes. Tatiana is over there, under that bushy tree, in a coma. She
was hiding on top of that tree, but a branch gave up and she fell down. Sydney is also there, next
to her. I knocked him out after he told me where Dr. Stratton is hiding. Now, call 911 and make
sure that she gets quick medical attention, and that hes put in jail. Hurry up, willya?
She held me by the sleeve of my coat. Hold it, buster, she said in a metallic tone of
voice. Where do you think youre going? Where is Dr. Stratton? Who has the data book? Talk,
Goddamn you!
I pulled away from her and pushed her back. One million, Mac, one million. Take it or
leave it. Now, if you dont mind, I have to go to the john to discharge my bowels. See you. I
turned my back to her and her objections and strode toward the International Hotel.
Within eight minutes I was in the hotel lobby, looking for Sydney, but I didnt see him
around. Finally, I had an inspiration and directed my legs toward the rest room. Eureka! There he
was, sitting in one of the commodes, pants down, a book in his lap, and a thin scalpel inside his
throat. He was a sitting dead duck. I picked the book from his lap and looked at the title. It was
the best seller, How to live is Moscow with three dollars a day. I threw the book on the floor
and told the dead duck, St. Petersburg is only two dollars, Syd. Take my word for it. I flushed
the toilet and got out of the resting-place and into the filthy streets of the violent city. I whistled a
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cab and within one hour I was in Ocean Avenue standing by a food street vendor. I ordered me a
12 marinated tripe sandwich, a side order of fried green plantains and a Mex beer. I got my
dish, paid the vendor and devoured the snack in no time. Then I burped like a cow and headed
home, got in, and dropped myself in my couch. Lids down and belly up.
?????
Lucille. Have a gimmick, get your kicks or Is there a better way to make money?
Three hours later I got up, changed my clothing, grabbed my recorder and got out. Down
in Lummus Park a young girl was showing her pubic hair to an old gentleman. So what? Maybe she
needed a haircut. I passed them by, gave them the victory sign, strolled along Ocean Drive, found
my bench and waited for my next unknown. Half-hour later a girl approached me. She was young
looking, had red hair, a square face, long legs and long arms. She was wearing a green beret, a long
sleeve T-shirt, blue shorts, and brown leather sandals. The T-shirt had the following slogan on it:
Lose your weight the Ayurveda way.
Ask me how. Do it now!
She told me that her name was Lucille, that she was a graduate of the U of F and then asked me
about my T-shirt. I explained the meaning of it; she nodded in agreement, sat next to me and talked
into my recorder. Like this.
When I first started college my only goal was to be a nurse. I wanted to help the sick and
the poor and to make a difference in this world. So I enrolled in nursing school and breezed thru the
courses and at the end of four years graduated Summa Cum Laude. Of course in the process I met
many fellow students who had the same ideals as I had. We used to have bull sessions and had long
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conversations about what the future had in store for us. What will the real practice be like? Will it
bring us happiness or disappointments? What kind of doctor will be working for? How many hours
on our feet? How about vacation? Health insurance? Discount prescriptions? And above all, will be
making enough money to pay the bills? Well, after ten years of working as a nurse I have some
sound advice for the future generations of nurses. Here it goes:
Have a gimmick, get your kicks!
Meaning what? Let me tell you some real-life experiences to clarify my statement.
Real-life experience # 1. The Dermatologist.
Skin doc: Listen, Lucy, business is going down. Too many dermatologists in town. As of today, tell
my patients that a British Skin Research Center claims that itching in any part of the skin may be
associated with a lack of Vitamins B3, B6, B12, and lack of oleic acid. Give them a coupon with a
20% discount in the health shop next door.
I: But thats Mr. Abramsons shop.
Skin doc: Not any longer. He already made his money and is going back to his hometown to fight
the Palestinians. The margin of profit in the health store is 110%. Within five years I can retire and
stop looking at this horrible wrinkle bodies. Believe me Lucy, in this world you have to have a
gimmick to make money.
Real-life experience # 2. The Otorhinolaryngologist
ENT doc: Hey, Lucille, Ive news for you. My mistress is leaving me because she said that I dont
know how to make money. As of next week inform my patients that a new study by Californias
ENT specialists allege that senior citizens with chronic infections of the sinuses, the ears, or the
throat could go blind since the eye is also affected. Send them to my new eyeglasses shop across the
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street. Believe me, my dear nurse, in this dirty world you have to have a gimmick to keep your
sexual life on cloud nine.
Real-life experience # 3. The Gastroenterologist.
GI doc: Psst, psst, pssst, Lucille, come here. Let me tell you a secret. Im fed up with digging up
human feces. From now on, tell all my senior citizens patients that constipation might be cured
with non-carbonated spring water from Italy. Guaranteed by the Pope himself. Six bottles a day
keep the intestines at bay. Send them to my new water shop half a block away from here. Yes, my
dear Lucille, in this stinky world you have to have a gimmick to make your crappy money. Believe
me.
Real-life experience # 4. The Rheumatologist
Articulations Doc: Lucille, Im sorry but Im going to have to cut your salary in half. At least
temporarily. Reason being that I had all my money invested in Vioxx stock and now Im in the
verge of financial ruin. But dont worry. After this weekend tell my patients that a large study from
Denmark scientists suggests that patients with hip or knee arthritis profit a great deal from having a
raised toilet seat. I already have 1,000 seats ordered from China and another 1,000 coming every
month. The seats are $2,000 a pop and the profit is 90%. Isnt wonderful that we have those Chinese
guys on our side? A gimmick is a gimmick no matter which country you live in.
Real-life experience #5. The allergy doctor.
Doc: Help me out, Lucille. This allergy business is not working the way it used to. In previous
years I made my money by giving allergy shots and by prescribing antihistaminic drugs. Now they
came out with OTC anti-allergy patches and OTC antihistamines. Damn the OTC business! But I
have gotten them lick. Listen; as of this afternoon tell my patients that a recent allergy report from
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Texas hints that OTC allergy medications can cause aversion to drinking beer. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
What a gimmick! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!
And on and on and on. The freaking doctors use words like may, might, could, suggest, hint, and
the like to deceive the public and in the process make mega money while we stand aside doing all
the dirty work and eking out a living. What are we going to do about it? Listen carefully. According
to the Center for Disease Control we have in this country about 100 million fatsos. A real epidemic.
With that fact on hand, set up a Web site and called it
Loseweightayurvedaway.com
What the hell is Ayurveda? Ayurveda is a form of alternative medicine founded around 7,000 BC
by a group of Indian prophets. The word Ayurveda means science of longevity and its aim is to
provide herbs cocktails that will dissolve the fat accumulated in the belly, in the arms, in the legs,
in the neck and in the cheeks. Once the fat is dissolved the fatsos wont have to worry about
diabetes type II, hypertension, high cholesterol, colorectal cancer or heart disease and therefore
expect to live a hundred years or more. For example,
To dissolve the fat in the belly Ayurveda uses cocktail B which consists of a mixture of St.
John Wort + Saw Palmetto. Price per gallon $99.95.
To dissolve the fat in the arms Ayurveda uses cocktail A which consists of a mixture of Milk
Thistle + Kava+ Angelica. Price per liter $109.95
To dissolve the fat in the legs Ayurveda uses cocktail L which consists of a mixture of
Hawthorne + Green Tea + Echinacea. Price per pint $75.95
To dissolve the fat in the neck Ayurveda uses cocktail N which consists of a mixture of
Ginseng + Ginkgo + Ginger. Price per gallon $199.95
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To dissolve the fat in the cheeks Ayurveda uses cocktail ASS which consists of a mixture of
Ginger + Flax + Nettle. Price per half-liter $88.95
Whats next? Advertise your system and your Web site in the newspaper for seniors. Theyre sick
and tired of conventional medicine and will try anything thats new. Make sure you mention in the
ad and in your Web site that the cocktails dont work for everybody. Get rid of your idealism and
stat making some money. Everybody else is. So,
Have a gimmick, get your kicks!
End of the gimmick, Mr. Bravo. How do you like it?
Marvelous, Lucille, just marvelous. I see that youre a down-to-earth person. But tell me
how about family life? I mean sex. Whats your point of view on that matter? Im sure that your
friends are very much interested on your advice.
Sure thing. Here it goes. Ive been married to Harry for seven years and I dont have any
complains. So he likes to watch porno movies and he likes to chase me around the house and he
likes to tear apart my black nightgown and he likes to have oral, anal and vaginal sex in the kitchen,
so what? I like it too. Yes, I love my horny Harry.
So?
So, gals, get a guy who likes to watch porno movies. Hell be up and running in no time.
Hi-ho here I come! Know what I mean?
I sure do, Lucille, I sure do. I cant wait to go to my home and write your story. Muchas
gracias.
Well, Lucille, have a good night. And say hi to horny Harry.
I will. See you. And she was gone.
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I put my recorder away, got up from the bench and walked a few blocks until I came across
a street vendor selling Nicaraguan churrasco. I ordered one to go and a six-pack of Nicaraguan
beer. The vendor did his thing and in tree minutes the order was ready. I paid for the treat and the
beer and then sat down on the nearest bench and started munching.
A priest passed me by. I said, Good evening papa, hows business?
Freak you, imbecile, he said. Somebody just burned my church. How am I supposed
to make a living now? Goddamn! And he kept on walking.
I shrugged, ate half of the churrasco and drank beer number one.
A caretaker passed me by. I said, Hello, there. How many stiffs you buried today?
Five so far, and two more coming he said. This City is good for me, no question about
it. Yes, sir, Im glad I move my business from Manhattan to this killing ground. Damn glad.
And he kept on walking.
I put a smile on my ugly face, did away with the other half of the churrasco and drank
beer number two.
A policeman passed me by. I said, Evening, officer. Everything under control?
You betcha, he said. Today is only the 20th of the month and every bar in my beat has
already paid me. Protection, you know? And he winked an eye at me and kept on walking.
I nodded in agreement and drank beer number three.
A whore passed me by. Hi, there, I said. Looking good. How is business today?
Never been better, she said. Now I charge a personal tax for every trick. Its legal,
you know. At least thats what Roscoe, my man, tells me. And she kept on walking.
I gave her the victory sign, Pope style, and drank beer number four.
A blind man passed me by. I said, Hello, there. Can I help you to cross the street?
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No, thank you, he said. But you can help me with a contribution for my oncoming eye
operation. Can you spare a ten?

Sorry, old man. I never give money to strangers. But would you take a beer instead?
And I handed him beer number five.
He grabbed it and drank it in one big, thirsty swallow. Ahhhhhh! That hits the spot. How
about that other one, are you going to drink it?
I smiled and gave him the last bottle. Here, old man, I said, enjoy it.
He grabbed the can and put it inside his back pocket. My night cap, you know. Thanks.
See you later.
I got up the bench took out my erect penis out and pissed all over it. I shook my penis up
and down until it was dry, put it back in, and darted up toward my nest. Once in, I undressed, ran
toward my bed, did a backward somersault and landed over the headboard. I didnt see the light
at the end of the tunnel.
Day 10
More shitsumons or Is Buddhism for you?
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Next afternoon I got up kind of sluggish, so I put my boxing shorts and my boxing shoes
on, got me some money split my hangout and trotted to Gavilan Kids Gym on Washington
Avenue. I went to the second floor where the action was, and hired me a sparring partner to go
ten rounds with me. They gave me Rufus, a one-time contender to the heavyweight crown and
now a punch-drunk.
We got into the ring and I punched his broken nose, his cauliflower ears, his half-closed
eyes and his soft belly. He grimaced, but kept on coming for more. I did a shuffle and when he
looked down at my feet, I hit him with a straight right to the solar plexus. He stopped moving,
looked at me, gasped for air and then dropped his arms. I put him down with a vicious left hook
to the liver. He stayed down for five seconds, got up, and engaged me in a clinch. Hey, man,
he whispered in my ear, they pay me by the rounds. Let me go at least six rounds, so I can pay
my bookie. I smiled, nodded and let him play hide and seek for the next five rounds. Good
exercise for me. I sweat all the toxins out of my body. Greeeeeat! In the sixth round, I pushed
him into a corner and hit with my right elbow over his broken nose. He hit the canvas like a wet
sack of sugar. I got out of the ring, paid the attendant, took a refreshing shower and was in
business again.
One of the sparring partners, Benvenuto, told me that there was a cock fight going on in
the first floor of the gym, so I climbed down just in time to see the cock fight of the day. A white
bird against a green bird. Lots of yelling, marihuana smoke and flying feathers. I placed thirty
bucks on the green bird from Hialeah. I was right on my hunch. Within one minute into the fight,
my chosen fighter kicked the living hell out of the white bird. Brains out and legs up. I collected
my bloody money. Good fight, boys, good freaking fight, I said, and left the noisy place.
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On my way back to my castle, I stopped at a coffee shop and had three eggs Benedictine
with Canadian bacon, a loaf of pumpernickel bread, five patties of garlic butter and three cups of
coffee. I ate it all up in record time, burped through the other end of my mouth, smiled, paid and
trotted back to my dwelling. Changed quickly into my PE outfit, sat down in front of the TV, and
was about to turn the stupid machine on when the phone rang. I got up, walked over to the
telephone, picked it up and said, Bravo here, what can I do for you?
A lot, buster, a lot, Karens angry voice snapped. Tatiana is in the City General
Hospital in a deep coma, the giant man found dead next to her is in the morgue and Sydneys
body is in the process of being cremated. For you everything is a joke, you idiot! What can you
do for us, you asked? For one thing, start talking! Tell us what the hell you found out! Come on,
where is Dr. Stratton? Talk, damn, talk! Hello! Are you there? Goddamn you! Answer me!
I hung up on her, and thought for a second about Tatiana, Mohammad, and Sydney. Id
better have a second talk with Ashi. She may know more than I think, I said to myself and
walked out of my home. To crush or be crushed. Whatever.
Down in Lummus Park a guy was using an AK-47 to shoot at the tires of every SUV he
came across. So what? Maybe hes a discount tire dealer. Live and let live, what the hell.
I walked two blocks on Ocean Drive before I could get me a taxi. Sherman building,
on
Shut up and get in, willya? the fat driver shouted. And dont talk to me while Im
driving, you hear?
I smiled, got in and let him do the driving. One hour later I reached my destination. Here
youre, pal, I said, handing him a fifty.
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A fifty? Do you expect me to have change for a fifty? Its only $ 20.75. Get outta of
here you jerk.
Keep the change and buy yourself a fried chicken dinner on me, I said.
Hey, thank you man. Youre okay. I just love fried chicken. God bless you. And he
drove off.
I looked at him going and laughed out loud. Suddenly I felt a hand on my back. I turned
around, my guard up.
Take it easy, Mr. Bravo. Its just me, Ashi Mishima.
I put my guard down and let my eyelids do the up and down trip. She was clad with white
shorts, white T-shirt, white socks and white sneakers. Her face was covered with a fine mist of
perspiration. She looked good, very good. I felt something moving between my big balls.
Hi, Ashi, I said. Isnt it a bit too late to go jogging? Arent you afraid of the
muggers?
She smiled. Time is a relative term, Mr. Bravo. What is early for some people is late for
others. As far as being attacked by some hoodlums, I know how to use my feet and elbows,
believe me.
I believe you, Ashi. I assume that you must have heard what happened to Tatiana,
right?
Right, Mr. Bravo. Karen McGregor called me and told me all about it. Poor Tatiana. I
guess that you want to ask me more shitsumons, hai?
Hai, Ashi. Just a couple of more questions, do you mind?
Not at all, Mr. Bravo. Shall we go up to my apartment?
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Sure thing, Ashi. Ill lead the way, and you follow me. Pretend that Im your husband,
hai? And call me Bravo, willya?

She giggled. Youre the boss, Bravo.
I led her upstairs to the second floor. She took a key out of her white shorts and opened
the door. Ohairi kudasi.
Arigato, Ashi. And I walked in. She closed the door and said, I hope you wont mind
waiting a few minutes, will you Bravo? I would like to take a shower now. Back in a flash, hai?
Yoroshii, I said.
She went into her haya and within ten seconds I heard the sound of running water. I
quickly stepped into her room and snooped around. I saw a reed mat on the floor, no pillow, no
closet, one dresser, one small table, one blackboard, two chairs, one bookshelf loaded with hard
cover books, one computer work center with everything on, and a four-foot statue of Buddha
sitting on one corner. On top of the dresser there was the picture of a man dressed up in a
Samurai custom. I came closer and took a second, closer look at the warrior. He certainly looked
impressive with his stern face, his hard eyes and his Samurai sword. Straight out of the movies.
The snapshot read, Honor, family and fatherland. And it was signed, Yukio Mishima. The
name rang a bell, but I couldnt place him at that moment. I heard the shower being turned off so
I hurried back to the living room and sat down on the couch.
Within a few moments, Ashi joined me. She was wrapped up in a white kimono, was
barefooted and her hair was still dripping drops of water. My eyes did an X-ray scan and I
distinguished her dark, hard, wet nipples. Dark meat, my favorite dish. I swallowed twice.
She sat next to me. Did you find my room interesting? she said, smiling mischievously.
Yeah, I said, looking at her small feet. Who is the Samurai warrior? Dont tell me hes
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your father.
Her face grew somber. No, Bravo. Both of my parents are dead. Nagasaki, you know.
That is a picture of my uncle, Yukio Mishima, poet, playwright and novelist. He stood for the
traditional Japanese values and against the mores and modes of the Japanese people after World
War II. He never liked the Western influence that had permeated our society. He preached the
old values of the Samurai code, but the new generation laughed at him and considered him an
old fashion man. He grew bitter and frustrated until finally he committed seppuku or hara kiri
in front of thousands of people. A beautiful way to die. He taught me how to be strong in life and
introduced me to Buddhism. Do you know anything about Buddhism?
Not much, Ashi. Tell me about it.
Well, Buddhism originated in India, some five hundred years before Christ. Its a
combination of religion and philosophy and was founded by Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha.
He spent the first thirty years of his life trying to solve the riddle of existence. Why was it that
people were condemned to suffer through the eternal cycle of birth, childhood, adolescence,
maturity, old age, death and rebirth? Why? He didnt know. One day he was sitting under a
lemon tree when lightning struck him on the head. He lost consciousness for twelve hours and
when he regained his senses, he had the answer to his search. Its called the Four Noble Truths.
Let me tell you about them. The First Truth says that life is hell, nothing but suffering. The
Second Truth says that all that suffering is caused by desire. The Third Truth says that
elimination of desire will stop the suffering. The Fourth Truth says that to eliminate desire, a
person must practice the Noble Eight Steps:
Step 1. Practice the right belief,
Step 2. Practice the right intentions,
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Step 3. Practice the right speech,
Step 4. Practice the right demeanor,
Step 5. Practice the right livelihood,
Step 6. Practice the right undertaking,
Step 7. Practice the right thinking,
Step 8. Practice the right reflection.
By practicing these Noble Eight Steps, the state of Nirvana is achieved. This state will free a
person from the perpetual cycle of suffering. To have reached Nirvana is to have reached a
supreme state of bliss. Isnt that wonderful?
And probably very hard to do, Ashi. Did he, himself, reach Nirvana?
Yes, he did. He became a most respectable teacher and traveled through all India,
preaching the Four Noble Truths. Of course, Mara, the devil, tempted him with money and fame,
but he refused and stood firm in his beliefs.
That story sounds familiar to me, Ashi.
And even his cousin, Davadatta, tried to betray him.
I heard that before, Ashi.
But he resisted all temptations and kept on preaching. Pretty soon his philosophy spread
to China, Korea, Vietnam and Japan. Today, Buddhism represents about six percent of the world
population.
Whatever happened to the Enlighten One, Ashi?
Unfortunately, he ate some spoiled pork and died of blood poisoning. A most regrettable
way of dying.
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And, of course, youre a devoted fan of Buddha, right, Ashi?

Absolutely, Bravo. It helps me go through my daily hell with a happy face. I hope you
wakarimusi.
I understand, Ashi, believe me. How about sex? What did Buddha say about the
pleasure of the flesh? I certainly would like to learn his technique. Can you teach me tonight?
Mochiron, Bravo. She got up from the couch, and stood right in front of me. I jumped to
my feet and faced her.
She looked at my flashing eyes and said, Buddhas technique on sex is written in a five
thousand page manual entitled The manual of bodily satisfaction. It is based on the premise
that sex is just a state of mind. Ill show you how it works. I close my eyes and you do likewise.
Like that. Good. Now listen to my fantasy. Im dreaming that its evening and Im walking by
the sea in my white kimono. All of a sudden a bunch of longhair teenagers jump on me and try to
rape me. Out of nowhere you suddenly appear and kick the living hell out of the bad boys. They
flee in a hurry. I thank you with a kiss on your cheeks and invite you for a cup of green tea in my
cottage. We walk hand in hand, and I whisper a song into your ears,
Kami-o-araitai desu (Wonderful man, light of my empty life)
Oku-san koko-ni (Fate has join us, let our souls fuse)
Mikka likura arimasu-ka (For only a moment, or for an afterlife)
Kore-ga-ii desu-0-ye-ah) (Let this be our greatest muse, oh yeah)
You smile and pat me on my shoulder. I smile back. We kept on walking until we reach my
cottage. You pick me up, carry me across the threshold, put me down on the couch and sit by me.
I caress your face and you kiss my hands. I touch your neck and you scratch my back. We both
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smile. I get up from the couch, go to the kitchen and prepare a pot of green tea. You get up from
the couch and join me in the kitchen. We sit down in the kitchen table and enjoy the green
infusion. We talk about the meaning of life until dawn. Finally, we get up from the kitchen table
and I walk you to the door. You show me your tukudai erection and I show you my shaven
octopussy. We smile, shake hands and say sayonara. End of the dream. Bodily satisfaction
accomplished. Now I open my eyes and you do likewise. Like that. Well, what do you have to
say?
I must say that your boy friend Ira should be the happiest man on earth, I said
Yes, he is, she said. What else did you want to ask me, Bravo?
Did Karen McGregor also tell you that Sydney Roderick was killed last night?
Hai, mocheron, of course. Im so sorry for him, too. He wasnt a bad fellow, you know.
Did you ever hear Tatiana or Sydney mention the name Mohammad Al-Raschid by any
chance?
Mohammad Al-Raschid? No, never. Why? Is there an Arab connection in this case?
I dont know yet, Ashi. How about the notebook with all the data on the Genome
Project? Did Tatiana tell you if they ever found it?
No, she never told me anything about that. I guess that they never found it.
How about your boy friend, Ira? How well did he know Dr. Stratton? Maybe they had
something in common.
She let out a giggling sound. Only their bald heads, Bravo. Dr. Stratton was in the
Biochemistry department and Ira was in the Physics department. Separate interests, you know.
Of course they saw each other on certain special occasions, like faculty parties, receptions for
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foreign scientists, and the like. But they were not really intimate friends. Each was immersed in
his own project and couldnt care less about what the other was doing. Professional jealousy, you
know.
I see, I said. Well, thanks a bunch. Youve been very helpful. Arigato very much.
Doittashimachite mention it, Bravo. She took me by the arm and walked me to the
door. Sayonara.
In a fast movement, I lifted her kimono and took a look at her shaved octopussy. Next
time you want to achieve bodily satisfaction, I said rapidly, let me do the dreaming. I, too,
enjoyed sex without love. I let the kimono down and added, With or without hair. And I
opened the door and left the house of dreams laughing my head off.
Five minutes later I saw a cab going my way. I flagged it down.
Lummus Park pops, I told the octogenarian driver.
He spat on the floor next to me. I aint your pop, imbecile, he barked at me. Get in and
shut up!
I smiled and got the taxi. We headed toward the beaches. Two hours later I was back in
my perimeter. I got out of the cab, gave the old guy a twenty and told him, Keep the change,
pops.
He grabbed the bill and screamed at me, What change, moron? Its nineteen dollars and
seventy-five cents. Freak you! And drove away.
I ran over the first street vendor I saw, got me a Cuban mid-night sandwich, a dozen-ham
croquette and two Mex beers, and gobbled up the whole thing in less than four minutes. I burped
like a turkey and then went home. ZZZZZZZ.
?????
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Gabriela. Fax me your fix or Is Life a joke or what?
One hour and forty-five minutes later I got up did my usual thing and within thirty
minutes was sitting in my favorite fishing bench. Right away a girl came up to me and inquired
about my cap. I let my eyes do the scrutiny. She was wearing a short-sleeve ox-blood top, an
over the knee papaya short, and poppy sandals. On her left fingers she was carrying a black
three-ring notebook and on her right fingers she was carrying five golden rings. She was tall,
dark and skinny, her eyes were very small and covered by thick glasses, her nose was long and
curved downwards, her upper lip was thicker than her lower lip, and her hair was ripe banana.
She was definitely UGLY. I thought that I was looking at a fashion model for weirdoes. I told
her about my purpose and she sat down and talked. Like this.
My name is Gabriela Sabatini and Im ugly but very smart. Smart enough to become the
editor of the campus weekly paper. In addition to correcting grammatically incorrect paragraphs
I wrote my own column. It was called Dear Gabby and I dished out advice on every subject
under the sun. The sisters loved my clear and logical thinking and I made lots of friends. I had so
much fun and was so happy. Unfortunately, graduation time came and I found myself on the
street trying to make a living. I tried several jobs but they all told me that I was too ugly to deal
with the public. I got fed up, moved here to Coral Gables, bought me a desk computer with all
the peripherals, set it up in my apartment and then put an ad in the paper. Like this.
Family conflicts? Money problems? Health problems? Depression? Anxiety? Stress?
Behavior problems? School problems? No self-confidence? Marital problems? Angry at the
world? Alcohol Problems? Drug problems? Dysfunctional family? Rape? Incest?
Whatever
Fax me your fix.
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I can help.
Dear Gabby, College Graduate Counselor
Fax: 305-100-1000
Free advice
Gifts greatly appreciated
Just like in college I got a tremendous response from the public and once again I became
a hot commodity. After a few months I moved up one notch in the social strata, if you know
what I mean. Let me show you some of my work. And she opened the three-ring notebook. Ill
read you some of my work. Listen.
Fax a fix #1
Dear Gabby:
My fix is my seventeen-year-old, Marvin. He seldom takes a shower and he never wears socks
with his sneakers. When he sits in the living room to watch baseball, the house smells like rotten
broccoli. When I tell him to change his habits, he says his girlfriend, Ida, likes him the way he is.
Please, tell me how to solve this odor, I mean, this problem. Nauseated mom. Fax: (404) 3217654.
Dear Nauseated:
Every night, after Marvin has fallen asleep, put his stinking sneakers inside his baseball cap for a
couple of hours. Ida will notice the fumes and Marvin will change his habits, believe me.
Fax a fix #2
Dear Gabby:
My problem is my husband, Wilbur. Hes what you may call an upside-down man. Everything
he does turns upside down. If he fries eggs, they turn upside down. If he uses his toothbrush, he
puts it back in the cup upside down. If he puts a bumper sticker on, he puts it upside down. When
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I tell him that hes an upside-down man, he laughs at me and tells me that the whole world is
upside down, to leave him alone. I dont know what to do anymore. Help. Wilhelmina Braggs.
Fax: (456) 465-0987.
Dear Wilhelmina:
Next time Wilbur gets horny, you do a strip tease dance for him. When you see saliva coming
out of his mouth, you stand upside down against the wall. Let him try that one out.
Fax a fix #3
Dear Gabby:
I have two problems, Ginger and Patty. Ginger is very beautiful, very smart, very, very sexy, but
also very, very poor. Patty, on the other hand, is kind of ugly, kind of dumb, kind of cold, and
kind of richfilthy rich. Which one shall I marry? Undecided. Fax: (603) 760-3666.
Dear Undecided:
Marry the other kindshe wont notice your gingerly nights out.
Fax a fix #4
Dear Gabby:
My fix is my roommate, Tony. He never goes to classes, sleeps late, drinks beer by the keg, has
a chick in his bunk every night and somehow he manages to pass all of his courses. I never miss
a class, get up with the bugle, drink only root beer, get all Ds and I still havent scored this
semester. Its not fair! Im really upset about this situation. What shall I do? Frustrated Lower
Bunk. Fax (408) 739-1295.
Dear Lower Bunk:
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You must be an asshole. Move the hell out of his territory!

Fax a fix #5
Dear Gabby:
My problem is my sixteen-year-old Billy. He masturbates all the time. Ive caught him twice
with his hands on the dough, so to speak. His father, his sister and even his Aunt Clara have all
seen his private parts. Were ashamed and worry. My husband says that Billy is going insane and
Im all stressed out thinking whats going to happen to Billys brain. Psychiatrists are out of the
question since we read in the papers that bug doctors are crazy themselves. Help us to find a
solution. Pleeeease! Distressed Mom. Fax: (501) 543-6130.
Dear Distressed:
Adolescence is a period when the individual began to experience stronger sexual feelings and
worries. As you know, during the puberty age, there is a surge of sexual hormones (testosterone
in males and estrogens in females) that bring about an intense desire to explore, to touch, to kiss,
to suck, and to fornicate the opposite sex. Groovy. At the same time, preoccupations with the self
set in. The concern teenager asks himself or herself, Am I too skinny? Too fat? Too tall? Too
short? Too forward? Too shy? Too smart? Too stupid? Naturally, all of these questions create a
state of apprehension in his or her young mind. How does he or she overcome his or her fears?
By playing, thats how. Baseball, volleyball, basketball, badminton, tennis, soccer, figure
skating, football, golf, badminton, skiing, swimming, sailing, you name it. A good and sound
therapy. However, there are a few teens that feel that the only sport that releases their anxieties is
MASTURBATION. The more fears they have, the more they masturbate. That seems to be
Billys case. But dont you worry. As soon as he grows older, he will decrease his manual
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activity and become normal again, know what I mean? In the mean time, let him have his
exercise. Do I think that Billys going insane? Not likely. Trust me. I spent my teen-age years
doing the same jerky movement and nobody who knows me think Im crazy. Now, whats the
solution to Billys problem? Easy. All you have to do is make a hole in Billy right pocket or left
pocket if hes lefty and look the other way. Thats all.
Fax a Fix #6
Dear Gabby:
My name is Donna Donovan. Im sure youve heard of me. Im known in the movie business as
the hottest (BEEP) since Lilly Damita. Ive been married eight times and my affairs are known
all over the world. So what? I like to (BEEP) and thats my business. Whats my fix? The
Goddamn reporters. Every place I go Im bombarded with questions, questions, and more
questions. Theyre driving me nuts! What can I do to preserve my sanity? Donna, the (BEEP)
movies queen. Fax: (213) 765-0234.
Dear Queen:
Next time the reporters gang around you and start asking you questions keep your cool, climb
on top of a chair and answer their questions in the following fashion:
Reporter # 1. Hey, Donna, is it true that you like to have sex after riding a horse?
You: Hahahahahahahaahah! Hahahahahahahaahah! You discover one of my secrets.
Hahahahahahahha! Right youre! And after bicycle riding too. Hahahahahaahahha! Tickle my
line, wow, wow, wow!
Reporter # 2. Hey, Donna, the rumor is that the reason you like to have coitus so often is
because your ovaries secrete too much estrogen. Is that true?
247
You: Hahah! You probably talked to my doctor, silly boy. Hahahahahaahahaah! Now you know
why Im on fire most of the time. Hahahahahahaha! Dont you wish your testes were working
overtime just like my ovaries? Hahahahahaah! Is better to have too much than to have too little
and become a dull doll. Hahahahahahaha!
Reporter # 3. Hey Donna, somebody told me that you like to go to bed with two guys at the
same time? Can you comment on that allegation?
You: Somebody up there has been peeking in my bedroom. Sure thing, baby. Have you heard
the
expression,
Two
heads
are
better
than
one?
Youd
better
believe
it!
Hahashahahaahahahah!
Reporter #4. Hey, Donna, is it true that your last husband died while having sex?
You: Right, right. The poor bastard couldnt take my punches. Hahahahahahahah! Right to his
head, and left to his liver. Out for the eternal count. Hahahahahahahah! Bitchy, bitchy, bitchy,
thats me.
Get the message, Donna? Agree to disagree. Pretty soon youll cease to be controversial and they
will leave you alone. And youll have the last laugh. A sure cure.
Fax a Fix #7
Dear Gabby:
I need help! My name is Marge, and Im an Associate Professor in the Music Department here at
Miami University. Im 58 years old; suffer from obesity, deficiency of vitamin D, alcoholism,
coke addiction, bruxism, depression, and frequent leg cramps. I have gone to a dozen doctors and
they all tell me that Im a hypochondriac that its all in my head. The quacks! Can you help me?
Right now I have a terrific headache and dont know how to get rid of it. Sick all over. Fax:
(305) 677-3219.
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Dear Sick:
Yes, I can help you. With all the details that youve provided me, I can tell you that youre not
suffering from hypochondriasis but from Briquets syndrome. Both, hypochondriasis and
Briquets syndrome are classified under the so-called somatoform disorders, or conditions in
which psychological conflicts shake hands with somatic or physical disabilities. However, while
hypochondriasis is usually confined to one symptom, Briquets syndrome is characterized by a
number of symptoms just like the ones you described in your fax. Tell you what to do to get rid
of your problems. Here we go.
A. If youre fat, take a trip around the world and eat nothing but what they serve you in the
airplanes. Youll lose an average of one pound a day.
B. If you think you need some vitamin D, drink three eight-ounce glasses of goat milk every day.
C. If you drink alcohol, just cut your consumption to two glasses every day. Per meal.
D. If youre on coke, switch to marihuana. Its legal now.
E. If you suffer from bruxism or nighttime tooth grinding, go to bed with a baked potato in your
mouth.
F. If you feel depressed, take a ride downtown and yell to the pedestrians, Jodete! (Ho-dee-tee)
which in Spanish means, freak yourself!
G. If you have frequent leg cramps, eat more potassium. Prunes are the best source. If prunes
give you diarrhea, then switch to a potassium-rich drink, like orange juice. If the juice gives you
acidity, then chew some aluminum-rich antacid. If the antacid gives you constipation, then eat
beans. If the beans give you flatulence, then carry a can of air freshener with you. If you turn out
249
to be allergic to the air freshener, then take some antihistamine drug. If the antihistamine drug
makes you dizzy, then lie down. If your cramps are back, just repeat the sequence.
And finally, for your headache, the best alternative medicine cure is to bang your head against
the wall until you pass out. Nothing to it, just a few bumps. Enjoy, enjoy.
Fax a fix #8
Dear Gabby:
My name is Norman and my problem is my live-in brother-in-law, Jerry. He doesnt work
because, he said, work is bad for his nerves; he doesnt clean his room because, he said, hes
allergic to cleansers; he doesnt shave because, he said, blades hurt his face; he doesnt cut his
hair because, he said, long is beautiful; he doesnt take showers because, he said, water is
polluted; he doesnt wash the dishes because, he said, detergents infect his nails; he doesnt wear
shoes because, he said, he gets in-grown toe nails; he doesnt change pants, shirts, or underwear
because, he said, he likes the smell of sweat; and finally, he doesnt go to bed until dawn
because, he said, he likes to watch the late-late-late TV shows. My wife, Geraldine, said that her
brother is psychologically ill, and that I should leave him alone. She has even threatened me with
divorce if I keep on hollering at him. This situation has been going on for the last four years and
I cant take it anymore. Please, tell me how to solve this fix. Between two fires. Fax: (367) 1779431.
Dear In Between:
Put a torch to the house, bury the two corpses, collect the insurance and marry a woman with no
brothers.
Fax a fix #9
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Dear Gabby:
I work as a secretary for a very famous movie star. Every time I go to a party, a paparazzo comes
around and tries to pump out of me juicy bits and pieces about my boss personal life. Theyre so
aggressive and bold and Im so timid and shy. I just dont know how to get rid of that pest. What
do you suggest? Timid Nancy. Fax: (619) 635-0188.
Dear Timid:
The reason for your being timid and shy is probably because you had a domineering mother.
How do you deal with those jerks? Follow my lead. The ten essential amino acids are:
1. Phenylalanine
2. Treonine
3. Valine
4. Tryptophan
5. Isoleucine
6. Methionine
7. Histidine
8. Arginine
9. Lysine
10. Leucine
Whats this information good for? Ill tell you. In a party when some jerk starts asking you
personal questions about your boss, you can resort to the ten essential amino acids in the
following fashion.
Jerk: Excuse me, Miss, but dont I know you from some place?
251
You: Its possible. Im from Phenylalanine.

Jerk: I may be mistaken. Where do you work?
You: I work for Treonine and Tryptophan Inc. Real Estate, you know.
Jerk: Dont you have a son attending Emory University?
You: No. I only have a daughter, Isoleucine, and shes attending Methionine College in
Switzerland.
Jerk: I see. But youre involved in the movie business, arent you?
You: Nope. Youre thinking about my twin sister, Histidine. Shes involved with Arginine and
Lysine, the famous Italian film company.
Jerk: Sorry, Miss. I got you all mixed-up with somebody else. Listen, Im really a paparazzo
looking for some hot news to print. Pardon me, Miss.
You: My name is Valine. Listen; maybe I can help you after all. See that blonde over there, by
the punch bowl? Her name is Leucine. Shes the new flame of Orlando Jose Samson, the famous
movie producer. Hes getting a divorce from his current wife and plans to marry her. Take her
picture and break the news.
Jerk: Thanks a bunch, Val. See you.
You: Youre welcome, hee-ho-the-po-tah. That means son of a bitch in Spanish.
Have fun, Nancy.
Fax a fix #10
Dear Gabby:
I recently got divorced and my wifes lawyer, Mrs. Dillon, made sure I got dry-cleaned. Her
husband, Frank Dillon, works in the same building I do, and now, every time he sees me, he puts
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a certain smile on his face. The punk! What can I do to return his smirk? Angry Andy. Fax: (205)
520-0123.
Dear Andy:
Send Frank a congratulation card with the following message: Dear Frank: Congratulations!
You should be very proud of your wife. She is something elsewhether in court or in bed, she
certainly has a big mouth! Also, when he passes you by, yawn at him. Hell get the message.
Fax a fix #11
Dear Gabby:
My name is Ernest and Im a sophomore in college. Im supposed to write a paper for my
English Literature course on the subject of Deus-ex-machina whatever that is. The paper is due
the day after tomorrow, so Id appreciate if you can fax me some material on the subject. Wise
Fool. Fax: (704) 333-5783.
Dear Wise:
Easy does it, Ernest. Ill tell you some examples so you can infer what Deus-ex-machina is.
Best examples are seen on TV For instance:
Example 1. When the good cowboy is being chased by a gang of ten bad cowboys and hes about
to be captured, hold and behold, all of a sudden, there is an earthquake and all ten bad cowboys
are buried under a mountain of dirt. The good cowboy loses only his white horse. Deus-exmachina.
Example 2. When the heroine of a thriller is about to be dismembered by her psychopath
boyfriend, hold and behold, all of a sudden, he starts coughing and cuts his jugular vein. Deusex-machina.
253
Example 3. When the hit man is ready to use a baseball bat on the squealer, hold and behold, all
of a sudden, the executioner hits himself on the head with the bat and died on the spot. Deus-exmachina.
Example 4. When the big ape kidnaps the pretty blond and tries to rape her, hold and behold, all
of a sudden, another big ape shows up and kills the sex deviant. The pretty blond kisses the
winner ape on his hairy mouth. Deus-ex-machina.
Example 5. When the Amazon Indians are about to eat the Yankee explorer, hold and behold, all
of a sudden, there is a sun eclipse and the man from Connecticut is hailed as a God. He lives
among the natives happily ever after. Deus-ex-machina.
Im sure; Ernest that youve seen these tense situations depicted every day on T.V.
movies. And whats the solution? Deus-ex-machina. Whats that? The term deus-ex-machina
comes from the Greek theos-ek-mechanes, which literally means a God send from the sky in a
machine to perform a miracle. It doesnt matter how stupid it looks or sounds. People will
accept any explanation as long as it keeps their dreams alive. So, keep on watching TV and get
more examples
Fax a fix #12

Dear Gabby:
Is it true that blondes have more fun? Im brunette and have dyed my hair blonde for the past
year and a half, and nothing has happened, I mean, no hits, no runs, and no errors. Just strikeouts.
Whats the secret, anyway? Can you tell me? No Fun Blonde. Fax: (334) 647-0213
Dear No Fun:
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Ramiro Dieguez
Blondes do have more fun. Just dye your hair again. And this time dont forget your lips.
Well, how did you like my smart answers, Mr. Bravo?
Smart, very smart, I said. You really have some brains thats for sure. But what about
sex? Can you tell me how did you manage your sex life? Or is that a forbidden topic? Its okay
if you dont want to talk about it.
Thanks for being so kind. I know Im ugly and thats why guys avoided me and as a
result I never knew what a good fuck was. However luck was on my side. One day I was surfing
the Internet Archive when I came across an article about Club dei Brutti or The World
Association of Ugly People with headquarters in the small town of Piobbico, Italy. The Club
emphasized the value of ugliness over beauty and invited ugly people to visit the town for a
weekend of fuck, I mean, fun. I immediately booked a trip to Piobbico and sure enough as soon
as I arrived I was surrounded by ugly, horny guys who waited in line to have a piece of me.
Wow! I had seven guys entering every orifice in my body. I had seven orgasms one after the
other. That experience was repeated the next day. I was left with bruises all over my body
including a black eye but I was so satisfied that I didnt care. Since that lucky day I visit
Piobbico every month for another going over. In fact Im due this weekend. Well, how did you
like my sexual experience?
I love it, Gabby. I must say that you really hit the spot. And I supposed that youd
recommend a visit to Piobicco to your ugly sisters, right?
Absolutely. Dear ugly sisters: Being ugly doesnt mean that you have to be a nun. First
of all, if you cant find a job, be your own boss. Bake pies, write poems, give advice on how to
make a budget, learn karate, whatever. And when your feel the urge to have intercourse, go to
Piobbico and get laid. Those ugly guys can give you all the oral, anal and vaginal sex that you
255
crave. Remember ugly sisters: Ugliness is a virtue, beauty is slavery.

I laughed and she laughed. Then she closed her notebook, got up and said, Ive got to go
now. Say, when can I get a copy of the directory?
Within six months, more or less, I said. Just come back here and Ill have your copy
ready. No charge.
Good enough. See you. And she got lost in the crowd.
I got up and walked for five minutes until I came across a stone crab street vendor. I ordered a
bucket of crabs swimming in tamarind sauce, and a 46-ounce bottle of Mex beer. Within four
minutes I had the steaming bucket under my nose, and within five minutes I had the crabs
swimming in beer under my belly. It was freaking gooooood! I burped like a crab and went
home. Got in, undressed, dropped my 206 bones into my mattress and became suddenly stiff.
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Ramiro Dieguez
Day 11
The egghead nest or Am I invited to the party?
The next afternoon I got up with itchy toes, so I put on my jogging shorts and my
sneakers. Feeling good. Out I went like the devil in search of a poor sucker looking for a fair
deal. The day was very warm and pretty soon I was soaked and wet with my malodorous sweat.
So what? All animals stink. I directed my sneakers north on Ocean Drive and then turned left on
13th street until I reached Flamingo Park then stopped to take a break. Wow! I felt greeeeeat! My
bladder sent a signal to my pissing neurons and suddenly I felt an urgent desire to urinate. I
looked to my left, looked to my right, didnt see anybody around, got my whip out and took a
loooooooong piss right there and then. My glans was all covered with wet pubic hair so the
stream of urine came out in three different directions. Ill be damned! I muttered. Finally, the
three streams became one and I emptied my bladder on top of a pretty rose tree nearby. I put my
whip back in place and did some breathing exercises. In and out, in and out, in and out. Oxygen
257
in and carbon dioxide out. Good, good. I sat down on one of the benches close by, took off my
sneakers and massaged my toes. It felt good. I stretched my body and closed my eyes. My whole
body
relaxed.
felt
my
penis
and
my
balls
shrinking.
Funny
feeling.
A familiar voice cut off my thinking. Hello, there. Its me, Karen McGregor. May I sit
with you for a moment?
I opened my eyes and saw finicky
Karen standing by my side. She was wearing pink shorts, pink blouse, pink sneakers and pink
socks and hanging from her pretty ears the biggest pink earrings in the Western Hemisphere. She
was all perspired, but somehow, she didnt smell the same way as I did. Funny.
Well, she said. Can I sit with you or is this your own private bench?
Be my guest, Mac, I said, bringing my right foot up and rubbing my toes.
She put her wet behind on the bench and rearranged her red hair in a characteristic female
fashion. I scratched my balls in a characteristic male fashion. She looked at my toes. I looked at
her tits. Finally, she said, Once again I want you to know that I hold no grudges against your
way of doing things. I know you sent us the body of Dr. Bliss, but thats okay. Our boys at the
lab may be able to find some clues, thank you very much. Now, Im asking you to cooperate
with me. You were the last person who talked to Tatiana. She must have told you where Dr.
Stratton is. Im willing to pay you three hundred thousand dollars for the answer to those
questions. What do you say? Come on, talk to me and stop rubbing your smelly toes.
I told you before that my price is a cool million tax free, Mac. Unless you want to put
something on your part, you know.
Meaning? she said in a trembling voice.
You. Are you willing to spend a wild weekend with me in a Caribbean cruise? I may
give you a break. What do you say, Mac?
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Ramiro Dieguez
She stood up and yelled, You and me? Ha, ha! That will be the day. Can you get it
through your stupid head? We dont belong to the same class, buster. Besides... huh? What are
you doing? Dont tell me that youre going to smell your filthy toes? Jesus! You filthy animal!
Thats gross! Stop doing that! Youre disgusting! Dirty pig! Drop dead! And she ran away from
my toes and me.
I laughed my head off, finished my rubbing/smelling session, put my
sneakers back on and told my clean toes to take me south, toward Abel Holtz Tennis Stadium.
They gladly complied with my request and pretty soon I was jogging again. I ran and ran until I
was completely exhausted. I stopped, looked around and saw a friendly boulder nearby. I
approached the shiny rock and put my tired self on it. I thought about Karens long legs, her firm
tits and her slim waist. She was certainly a dish. Wow! All of a sudden I heard the distinctive
noise of a galloping horse coming my way. I lifted my head and for a moment I thought I was
dreaming. Some crazy bastard, fully dressed as a confederate officer, was riding fast and hard
toward me. I stretched my neck in an effort to see his face, but the son of a bitch had it covered
with a yellow hankie. Watch out for boulders! I yelled at him. He paid no attention and kept
coming straight at me. When he was about thirty yards from me, he drew his gun and fired six
times at me. I ducked behind the boulder and the bullets whistled over my head. The rider kept
on going for a moment, then turned his stallion around, drew his sword and charged at me again.
I picked a triangular piece of rock lying by my feet and waited for him. When I saw the white of
his eyes, I let him have the rock right between his eyebrows. He jerked his head and let go of the
bridle. The poor equine kept on going fast and without aim, until an oak tree suddenly
materialized in front of his crazy eyes. He hit the hard bark, let out a sonorous horselaugh and
threw his rider high up, before collapsing by the tree. His rider complied with the law of gravity
and began his free fall. I watched until the son of a bitch hit the ground, rolled over and lay there,
259
belly up. I also watched in fascination how the sword also complied with the law of gravity and
came down fast and hissing sound. Bingo! Right between his belly button and his penis. Almost
immediately, urine mixed with blood started oozing out of the wound.
Help me, please, help me, the wounded rider yelled.
I ran over to his side, knelt down, pulled the handkerchief off his face and saw the
distorted face of Soraya, the young girl who had attacked me at Nicks.
Youre going to die, Soraya, I told her. Your bladder is perforated and you havent
gotten a chance in hell so, tell me, who sent you to kill me and why? Was it Mohamm,,, I froze
when I felt the barrel of a very small gun on top of my right temple.
Surprise, surprise, Mr. Bravo, she whispered. Always have one under the sleeve,
right? You killed my fianc, Sadam, and now its my turn to avenge him. Yes, Im going to die
but Ill take you to hell with me. Go to hell! And she squeezed the trigger.
It was too late--for her. The sword had cut the renal arteries and the renal veins along
with the bladder and blood stopped flowing toward her brain at that precise moment. Her finger
stopped moving and so did her breathing. The miniature gun slipped away from my right temple
and fell into her mouth. I quickly grabbed the two shots piece and fired the two rounds into the
roof of her mouth. Her head shook twice; she convulsed and then stopped living. I looked inside
her mouth and saw a pile of torn tissues leading into an obscene hole in the back of her head. I
searched her, but found nothing but a rental slip from Flamingo Park Rentals made out to
Brunilda Gonzalez. I got up, shrugged and decided to go home. Not quite. Some joggers had
heard the shots and were running toward the happening. I saw Karen in front of the pack,
flashing her badge and hollering, Stay away, stay away, Im a police officer!
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Ramiro Dieguez
I let the crowd get closer to the stiff and me. Karen got to me first. What happened? she
said, puffing her breath.
Nothing much, Mac, I said.
A hoodlum tried to mug me and I shot her.

She looked at the ugly sight. Ugh! She looks awful. Who is she?
I have no idea, Mac, I said. All I know is that she tried to blow my brains out, but I
was faster. That mass of tissue you see behind his back is her cerebellum. See?
Please! Thats gross! she said. Listen, I know that youre not telling me the truth. She
must be involved in Dr. Strattons affair in one way or another, otherwise, why would she come
after you? Come on!
I didnt ask her, Mac, I
said, brushing some pieces of brown tissue off my chest.
Karen stepped back and pointed at a
big brown piece of tissue stuck in my right little fingernail. What in the world is that? she
asked with apprehension.
I looked at the brown piece, smelled it and then told her, Just a
piece of tonsil, Mac. Nothing else, see?
She
stared at the piece of tonsil for a moment, took two steps backwards, put her right hand over her
mouth and then let a powerful scream out, Ouuuuuuughuuughuughu! Ahhhhhh! And followed
it up with a big gush of vomit, Agagagaghaghag! Agagaggaghagha! Ahhh! Aghgagaghgahgha!
Bits of undigested hot dogs, mustard, ketchup, and sweet peppers hit the ground. It smelled bad.
I laughed. By the way, Mac, I said, there is another body under
one of those trees over there to your left. He was with her and tried to run me down. I kicked him
on his head and he passed out. Check him out, willya? I have to go to lunch now. See you. And
left the scene of the crime laughing my malodorous balls off.
Back
inside my kingdom I undressed, jumped into the shower and gave me a good going over with a
bottle of papaya shampoo until I was squeaky-clean. Got out, did all of my -ings, prepared me a
261
salami and cheese sandwich on rye with everything on and brewed me a pot of Cuban coffee. I
had it all within one minute and thirty seconds. Good stuff. I played with my balls for a second
or two and then decided to pay a visit to Dr. Ira Bloom, the pugnacious Professor. Maybe he
could tell me something Ashi didnt know. Out I went to murder or be murdered. Whatever.
Down in Lummus Park life was dancing a rumba. Two taxi drivers were exchanging
guns. One Cobray M-11 for a Tec-9; one Taurus PT92AF for a MAC-10; one Luger 45 for a
Glock 17; one .38 Magnum for a .38 Special; one Raven MP-25 for a Jennings 22; one P-32 for a
P380; one L-380 for a Thompson Sub-machine gun; one AK47 for three bayonets and a bag of
white powder for a bag of green powder. So what? They have to defend themselves against the
thugs. I passed them by and gave them the victory sign, Franco style. They spat at me and cursed
me. I waved at them, smiled and took a cab all the way to the Professors second home.
A half-hour later I was admiring the FIU campus. Lots of brick buildings surrounded by
nice trees and a well-kept lawn. I strolled through the premises until I located the Physics
Department Building. I got in, searched for and found the door with Iras name on it and pushed
the door in. I saw and old lady with a vinegar face, thick glasses and brittle white hair sitting
behind a huge desk. She never looked at me and kept on licking envelopes. I cleared my throat
and she gave me an inquisitive look over her bifocal.
Yes?
she said, very annoyed. Whats the nature of your business? Do you have an appointment?
Speak out or get the hell out of here. Im pissing in my pants and I cant go to the bathroom until
I finish these freaking invitations. Goddamn! Well, what do you say? Speak your freaking mind;
dont just stand there like a freaking idiot!
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I flashed my badge. Name is Bravo, private investigator. Im here to talk to Dr. Bloom
about the death of one of his colleagues, Dr. Stratton.
Stratton,
muttered. Yes, the name sounds familiar. Was he also a physicist?
Stratton,
she
No, he was a
Biochemist. He also worked for the University.

Was he bald just like Dr Bloom?
Yes.
And was he also living in the Bald Eagles Club and Residence.
Why, yes, I said without blinking. How did you know that?
Ha! she chuckled. It figures. Thats where Dr. Bloom and all the bright, bold and bald
Professors of this town live. Bunch of weirdoes. Tell me, what Dr. Stratton die of?
He was strangled. His brother hired me to find out who did it. Dr. Bloom is one of my
leads. Can I talk to him?
She nodded. Okay. What did you
say your name was?

Bravo, I said, pocketing my I.D.
She pressed a button and said, Dr. Bloom, a detective by the name of Bravo is here to
see you. Something about Dr. Stratton. You heard me right. Bravo. Yeap, I got it. She turned
her gigantic pupils in my direction and added, Get the freak in.
I walked into the eggheads private chamber and surveyed the surroundings. Wall
number one, to my left, was covered with degrees and diplomas; wall number two, to my right,
was covered with a huge map of New York City and wall number three, facing me, and behind
Iras desk, was covered with wooden shelves packed with books. Typical egghead nest. Ira,
himself, was standing by his desk, phone over his left ear, listening attentively. He glanced at me
and used his right index finger to tell me to sit down in the chair in front of his desk. I did and
watched him. He was wearing the same brown suit he had worn the first time I saw him. He did
263
look like a freaking high school principal.

Listen, lady, he was saying, I mailed my tax return in February, but somehow I forgot
to include my W-2 forms. However, I discovered my mistake on April, April 15 to be exact, and
mailed the stupid forms that day. According to my calculations, I was entitled to $2,895.00.
Now, you idiots are telling me that I owe you $6,259.23 plus $690.32 in interest because I filed
late. What the hell is this? Im tired of being abused and harassed by you guys. Me and the rest
of the American taxpayers. I want my money, you hear? What? My check is in the mail? And
youre sorry? It wont happen again? I hope so. For your sake. Bunch of freaking idiots! And he
slammed the phone down.
Having problems, Ira? I said.
He looked at
me fiercely and spat out, Thats all I need now. Another government agent interfering with my
personal life. You told me you werent a cop, and it turned out that youre a private investigator,
a euphemism for a goddamn government middleman. Listen, I dont know where Dr. Stratton is,
so get out of my office!
Do you know that Sydney Roderick was killed by an
Iranian agent called Mohammad Al-Raschid? I said.

Hahahahahahahahah! An Iranian agent! My God, how stupid can you people get? Try
the CIA. They specialize in eliminating people with extreme prejudice if you know what I
mean.
Mohammad
Al-Raschid.
What
name!
Get
serious,
will
you?
Did you know that Sydney was a double agent, working for the CIA and for a group of
Iranian hard-liners?
There you go again, he said. Let me tell
you something, freaking moron. Sydney was a brilliant man who had the guts to expose the
federal government for what it really is: a disguised dictatorship. They killed him because he was
attracting too many followers. Poor man. All he ever wanted was to marry Tatiana and get the
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hell out of this goddamn country. Now, hes dead and shes in a coma. How sad.
Yeah, right, I said. How about Sydney and Dr. Stratton? How did they get along?
He leaned over his desk and said, Let me ask you something, Mr. Private Eye. Whoever
told you that you have the right to come here into my personal office and interrogate me? Who?
As far as Im concerned, youre nothing but a freaking two-bit gumshoe. You hear me? Now, get
the freak out of my office, you ugly son of a bitch! Out!
I got up from my chair,
leaned over his desk until my nose touched his nose and then used my two fists to hit him over
his two ears. His eyes rolled around and, within a second or two, slumped down to the floor.
Knock out. I walked out of his office, closed the door behind me and passed by the empty desk
of the old, unpleasant bitch. My guess was that she was in the bathroom emptying her flaccid
bladder. I glanced over the pile of invitations on top of her desk and read:
The Bald Eagles Club and private residence
21390 Collins Avenue
Miami beach, FL 564780
To:
All members
From:
Ira Bloom, President
Re:
Annual Masquerade Party
Dear Member:
Im pleased to inform you that the annual masquerade party will take place on Friday, August
11, 2000 at 6:00 p.m. Free food, free drinks and free entertainment will be provided. Have fun
and drink all you want. A limousine service will be available to drive you back home. In
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addition, a $1,000.00 prize will be awarded to the most original costume. Lets have some fun.
Life is shorter than we think.
Truly yours,
Ira Bloom, President.
P.S. Every member is allowed to bring one guest. Male or female. Whatever.
Ill be damned! I said out loud. Thats tomorrow. I was going to grab an invitation
when the door opened and the old bitch came in.
Well, she croaked, did you find out who did it?
Yes, I said. Dr. Bloom did it. It seems that Dr. Stratton was having an affair with Ashi
Mishima, Iras girlfriend and
Oh, no, my God, she screamed and fell down to the floor. I picked the bag of bones up
and put her in her seat. Just kidding, old bitch, just kidding, I told her, and then grabbed an
invitation and got the hell out of there. Taxi and Ocean drive. This time I spotted a street vendor
selling steaming hot dogs. I ordered six dogs smothered in chili con carne and six cans of
Mexican beer. I got my order in two minutes, paid the guy and then proceeded to devour them
until I have my nostrils packed with beans and my stomach full of beer. I burped like a dog and
then went home. See you later.
?????
Betty. The most likely to succeed or Is that what you really want to be?
Two hours and seventeen minutes later I got up put my cap on my head; my recorder in
my pocket and out I went to try my luck at virginity. I waited patiently on my bench for one hour
before a female came around. She was young, plump, and healthy-looking with a pretty face, and
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flashing brown eyes. Her hair was black, lustrous and tied down around her nape in a lengthy
ponytail. She was wearing green sneakers, green shorts and green blouse. She looked like a fat
Florida cricket to me. She asked me the usual questions and I gave her the usual answers. She
nodded in agreement, and I got my recorder out of my pocket and on. Go ahead. Im ready.
She let her tongue tell her story. Like this. My name is Betty Hudson and Im a graduate
of The Order. During my years of High School my first and only love was Thomas (Tommy) Carter
Holiday. He was tall, blonde, had blue eyes, a big crotch and buns the size of spare tires. Wow! In
addition to those physical attributes he was an all-around brain: straight A student, president of
our class, Minnesota community fund chairman, national honor society member, Spanish club vicepresident, Miller literary society secretary, and staff writer. There was nothing he couldnt do,
nothing! No wonder he was voted the most likely to succeed. We went steady for four years and
had planned a June wedding after graduation, but unfortunately, my father got a better job in Miami,
Florida and we were separated. The last night we spent together we did nothing but talked about our
common friends, the unforgettable teachers, the kind principal, the old building, the funny incidents,
and the sad moments. We kissed, we laughed, we cried and we held onto each other until the bells
rang morning. I said farewell with these words,
Until we meet again,
And well start anew,
Lets keep our love aflame,
And hope our dreams come true.
He shed a tear and waved me good-bye. After my family moved to Miami, he called me twice a
week, then once a month, and finally he stopped calling. I tried to reach him but his telephone was
out of commission. I thought that he may have joined the Army or gotten a job abroad, something
along those lines, you know. Ten years passed and then one day, about six months ago, I received a
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call from him telling me that he had gotten a steady job in Miami, to meet him at the Havana
Cafeteria on calle ocho the next day around noon. I screamed yeeeees, ran to the beauty shop and
got my hair done, my toenails and my fingernails manicured, and my eyebrows trimmed. Next day I
was in the cafeterias by eleven, sitting on a booth and looking nervously to the entrance door. The
waitress came and I ordered a cold glass of tea. By a quarter after twelve he walked in. He was
wearing a straw hat, blue T-shirt, khaki shorts and green tennis shoes. He looked about the same
except that he was a bit thinner and a lot darker; otherwise he looked super. He reached my table,
kissed me on my lips and whisper in my ears, You look marvelous, and sat down. Howre you
doing? he added.
And I said: Not bad, Tommy, not bad. Im manager of the front desk in a hotel on 72nd
Avenue. Good salary, paid vacation, and medical and dental coverage. Pretty good, huh? But lets
not talk about me. Lets talk about you and your achievements. What have you being doing?
Well, after high school I tried college but the professors were too demanding, I mean, pop
quizzes, mid-terms, papers to type, and excruciating finals, just to get a D.
Well, Tommy, maybe you werent ready for college yet. They say that the transition from
high school to college is brutal. And the professors are a bunch of idiots. What did you do next?
I figured that all that work wasnt worth it. So I quit college and enrolled in a nursing
school, but I couldnt stomach the smell of the patients.
Well, Tommy lets face it. Who wants to be around sick people? They vomit, they bleed,
they let the gas loose immediately after every meal, they urinate outside the pan and many of them
go berserk at night and try to rape the nurse on duty. Jerks! What did you do next?
I quit nursing school and became a real estate agent, but I couldnt find any leads so they
kick me out.
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Well, Tommy is a well known fact that real estate brokers are a bunch of drunkards who
live off the agents sweat and tears and who like to have sex with the female agents during the open
house bait. What did you do next?
Then I became a certified financial counselor but all of my clients went bankrupt and the
company let me go.
So, what? During the 1929 crash people were jumping out of windows, killing their
cousins, and laughing for months. What did you do next?
After that I tried writing romance novels but my characters were mostly whores and
pimps so I had no readers and the publisher threw me out of the window.
Freaking publishers! They capitalized in the stupid spinsters, the fat women, the silly
teen-agers, the English teachers, the divorcees and the bald people. What did you do next?
I took a month off and then I decided to go to India to find out what was the meaning of
life. In Bombay I met my guru, Sankarata Beni Chandi who told me that the meaning of life was to
be born, go to pre-school, kindergarten, elementary school, secondary school, college, get married,
have children, get a boring job, pay bills, pay taxes, grow old, get sick, die and be reincarnated as a
cow. I ran away from him and came back home more frustrated than ever.
Well, Tommy, you didnt have to go to India to find that out. Any homeless right here on
calle ocho could have told you that. But anyway, what did you do next?
I got into the drug business but the Colombians told me that I had to bump off my
congressman because he was skimming from the top. I politely refused.
All politicians steal, Tommy. From the governor, to the major, to the senator and to the
press secretary, they are all in business. Thats why once in a while a body is found near the Hialeah
track. You did the right thing. What did you do next?
269
I became a programmer but I developed carpal tunnel syndrome and my right hand
became so numb that I couldnt shave for six months so I have to quit.
Well, Tommy, its a god thing that you quit when you did. I know a programmer that shot
himself right thru his freaking head while trying to clean his gun. What did you do next?
It was then that I met Carmen Valenzuela a rich widow from Laredo who promised to pay
me $50,000 to bring 50 illegal Mexicans into the country but the fence patrol discovered us and we
had a hard time getting away. I finally made to Tijuana and back to the good old USA. It took me a
month to become hydrated again.
Well, Tommy at least youre alive. Im sure that many Mexicans made it too. By now
theyre probably very happy, skinny, and working for the Immigration and Naturalization
Department. What did you do next?
I came down here and found me a job with a lawn maintenance companyand he pointed
to his green sneakersand you know what? I love it! Plenty of fresh air, nobody bothers me, and I
can sing along with the mower. Like this.
Now Im happy,
Now Im free,
No more searching,
Now Im working,
Now Im glee,
No more testing,
No more rein.
Isnt that wonderful, Betty?
Indeed, Tommy. I guess you found your niche in life. How about girls? Did you ever find
the girl of your dreams?
Girls? Are you kidding? By the time I get home Im so tired that all I can think of is
hitting the sack. When I get real horny I put my dick inside a ripe pumpkin and pretend Im having
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sex. Its real good and cheap too. Say, can I have your tea? I talked so much that my mouth is dry.
Okay?
Sure, Tommy, go ahead. I have to go to the bathroom. Excuse me. And I got out of the
cafeteria and went back to my hotel. I guess he got the message because he never calls me again.
End of my story. Well, how did you like it?
I love it, Betty. But you forgot to tell your sisters whats the lesson to be learned from
your experience.
Right youre. Okay. Listen up girls. If the most likely to succeed boy calls you one day,
out of the blue, and ask you for a date, tell him to take a hike and hang up on him.
Excellent advice, Betty, excellent advice. One more question before you go. How about
your sex life? You never mention anything about that.
Well, I was saving my virginity for Tommy but when I found out what kind of a person he
turned out to be, I decided to live it up. I returned to my hotel and seduced all the boys working in
the front desk and after that I took on the entire maintenance department and after that I took the
pants off of the entire sales and catering section. Now Im aiming for the GM himself, a French
guy who is as hot as I am. Yeap, my sex life is good.
Im glad for you, Betty. Well, I thank you very much. The Directory will be ready in a
couple of months. Just call the campus bookstore, willya?
I sure will. Bye. And she was gone.
I got up, pocketed my recorder and walked
to the nearest street vendor. I ordered a bowl of marinated jumbo shrimps in a red sauce and a
couple of beers. I put the shrimps and the beer away in three hundred seconds, burped like a
fisherman and went home. Got in, undressed, dropped my body on my soft bed and sank into a
deep sleep. ZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
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Day 12
The BEC or Whats HCTH?
The next day I awoke about five oclock in the sunny afternoon. I got up, made my bed,
grabbed mop and bucket and cleaned, cleaned, cleaned my castle until it was pristine white.
Cool. I went to the bathroom, did all my -ings, including putting the invitation to the Bald
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Eagles Club in one of my pockets, and after that, I was ready for my breakfast. I made me six
garlic bagels with lots of fatty cream cheese on top, and had them with a pot of Cuban coffee.
Good, good, good, good, good, good. Wow! Those Jewish people know how to make bread,
thats for sure, I said to myself. I ate the crumbs, put the cup and the pot away in the sink, sat
down in front of the lumpish box, clicked the news channel on, and turned the sound off to
practice my reading lips technique.
News 1. I gathered that police had found the director of the FBI snorting coke in the company of
a male prostitute. As he was being pushed into the police van, he was yelling obscenities. No
doubt about it.
News 2. I gathered that a well-known TV anchorman had killed his female anchor partner with a
karate chop to the head. He was screaming that he was not crazy as the police dragged him away
from the studio.
News 3. I gathered that George was saying, There is nothing wrong with Iran. Just a few bodies
hanging around.
News 4. I gathered that in last nights fight between the heavyweight champion of the world,
Mustafa Karin, and the number one contender, Tyrone Power, the champion was whispering to
the contender to take a dive for half a million dollars. He did.
News 5. I gathered that a rising Hollywood star was telling the audience how to reach an orgasm
without having sex. Most explicit.
I laughed and laughed, then turned the dopey machine off and left my beloved home.
Out. To choke or be choked. Whatever.
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Down in Lummus Park, life was moving around and around as usual. A homeless man
was in the process of acquiring a car. He broke one window with a piece of pipe, got inside the
car and drove away. So what? He probably is making a few bucks on the side as a repo man. I
shrugged, grabbed me a taxi and got off in front of Leos Pharmacy and Sundries in Little
Havana. Leo Gonzalez, a Cuban refugee and a survivor of the ill-fated Bay of Pigs Invasion, ran
the place. Everybody knew Leo and Leo knew everybody, including me. I walked into his place
and saw him behind the counter filling a prescription. He was three hundred pounds of fat, had a
pleasant face and a thick beard. The rumor was that he was a CIA agent.
Hi, Leo, I said. Long time no see.
Hi, Bravo, he said, smiling broadly. Whatsamatta, cant talk no English?
I smiled back. Glad to see you, Leo. Hows business?
Pretty good, pretty good, he said. What can I do for you, today, amigo?
I need a hundred water pills, Leo. Can you accommodate me?
You mean diuretics, dont you? he said, pointing to his huge abdomen. Sure thing,
amigo. Do you have a prescription?
I took out my wallet, pulled out a one hundred-dollar bill and gave it to him. Here, Leo.
It has already been signed.
He took the bill and put it in his pocket. No sweat, no pain, amigo. He moved his
enormous frame toward the back of the store. I put my wallet back in my rear pocket and waited.
After three minutes, Leo came back with an amber vial in his fat right hand. Here,
amigo. A hundred count. Take two at any time you want and wait twenty minutes, preferably by
the john. These babies contain two hundred milligrams of hydrochlorothiazide in a water base.
Powerful stuff. Let me explain to you how they work. Once ingested and absorbed, they increase
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sodium and water excretion by blocking sodium and water reabsorption in the nephron or renal
unit. The parasympathetic branch of the autonomous nervous system will take over and you will
feel a terrible desire to discharge your bladder no matter where you are at the time.
Comprendes?
A piece of cake, Leo, I said, grabbing the vial and putting it in my front pocket.
Thanks old buddy.
De nada, amigo, he said. You come back here any time you need to do good business.
I have rum, whiskey, Swiss watches, guns, tanks, pacemakers, gold chains, bayonets, flame
throwers, Spanish guitars, porno movies, voodoo charms, plutonium, and other goodies. You
name it, I got it.
Sounds interesting, Leo. How about a mask resembling Donald Rumsfeld? Do you have
such a thing?
He smiled, walked over to a barrel marked Face Masks, put his right hand into the
barrel and pulled out a skin-colored replica of Donald. Catch it, he said, throwing the rubber
mask to me. I caught it in mid-air. On the house, he added with a smile. I put the mask in my
pocket, waved at him, took a taxi and within fifteen minutes I was in front of the Bald Eagles
Club and Private Residence. I paid the cab and took a look at the building. It was a dull, gray,
two-story structure with plenty of windows and a huge entrance door flanked by two marble
eagles. A dingy mother.
I pulled out of my pocket Donalds mask and the invitation, put the mask on, approached
the door and knocked on it. An old, bald butler opened it up. I handed him the invitation. He took
it and said, Evening, sir. Nice disguise. Please come on in. The party is in the dining room,
straight down the hall.
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Listen, I said. Im Dr Strattons lawyer. Is he around?

No, hes inside his room, very sick. I dont think he wants to see anybody right now.
Maybe next week. Sorry.
Its okay. Can you tell me where the bathrooms are? I have to go.
There is one next to the kitchen and another one upstairs.
Thanks, pal I said and entered the freaking building. Dull enough. Stairs and library to
my left, living and dining to my right. The party noise was coming from the dining room, so I
strolled over and walked in. Wow! It was a masquerade party all right. There was Hamlet and
Ophelia, Nefertiti and Akhenaton, Sherlock and Watson, Robin and Marian, Julius and Cleo,
Napoleon and Josephine, Hitler and Eva, Stalin and Churchill, and many, many other cleverly
disguised guests. I pushed my way through the throng until I reached the crowded bar. The
barmaid was disguised as Lady Godiva and every time she bent to pick up a bottle, the drunkards
cheered. I sat down and she came to my help.
Hello, there, Donald, she said. What would it be? I have whiskey, bourbon, beer,
mescal buttons, Mexican mushrooms, silly putty and me. How about it?
Mexican beer, I said. She bent over and pulled a bottle from the cooler. Everybody
cheered and so did I. Pretty ass.
Somebody changed the CD and South American rumba music filled the air. Everybody
jumped and joined the fun. Uno, dos, tres, huy! Uno, dos, tres, hay! Uno, dos, tres, huy, hay!
they chanted in unison. I got my vial of water pills out, got up from my stool and took a walk
around the empty tables, dropping two tablets into every glass I found on my way while singing,
Uno, dos, tres, piss! Uno, dos, tres, piss! After all of the pills were gone, I went back to the bar
and waited for the result.
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The rumba finished, the dancers returned to their tables and drank freely. Good. I waited
and counted under my breath, Five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen minutes and twenty minutes.
Sure enough, people started getting up from their tables and going to the bathroom. First it was a
small group, then a dozen, and finally the whole crowd bolted toward the restroom. They were
grinding their teeth and hopping on one foot. A waiting line quickly formed in front of the small
restroom next to the kitchen.
I yelled, Upstairs! Upstairs! There is another restroom upstairs! Action and reaction,
right? Riiiiighghghtttt! The crowds stampeded upstairs and I followed them. Once I got upstairs,
I waited by the emergency exit door at the end of the hall.
Five minutes later door number 13 opened up slowly and Dr. Strattons bald cranium
showed up. I could recognize him among a thousand baldies. I took off my mask, dropped it on
the floor and approached him. He ventured a bit more out of the door and glanced at the mob
trying to get in the john. Now I could see him plainly. He was barefooted, had a pair of baggy
Bermuda shorts on and had no shirt on his flat and flabby chest. His face was covered with a
fuzzy white beard and in his left hand he was carrying a half-empty bottle of whiskey. I came
closer yet. Yeap, that man was Dr. Stratton, all right. He smelled whiskey and his armpits
smelled like caca.
Hello, Dr. Stratton, I said. I have good news for you. Can I come in?
He smiled and then said, Hello, Mr. Bravo. Say, what the hell is going on? Why are
those people trying to get in the john? A joke, thats what it is, a freaking joke. Look at that guy
pissing on the rug. Hahahahahaha! He took a big swallow of whiskey. Ahhhhhhhhh! Good
stuff. He looked at me. You said that you have good news for me? Thanks God. Its about
time. Come on in and have a drink with me. He grabbed me by my right arm and pulled me into
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his hideout. Caca! The place was a mess, a dirty mess. The bed was unmade, there was left over
pieces of food on the floor, his laundry was stuffed inside a pillow case lying on top of the TV
set and the waste basket was full with empty bottles of whiskey and empty cans of K rations. The
smell of human vomit lingered in the air.
He pointed to a soiled chair in front of the TV and said, Make yourself comfortable, Mr.
Bravo. Ill sit on the floor next to you. I complied with his request and he just dropped his
smelly self on the floor. Here, he said, have a drink. And he offered me his bottle. I grabbed
the bottle and had a quaff.
Good, I said, returning the bottle to his trembling hands.
Now, he said, lets talk. How did you find me? Never mind. Ira told you, right?
I kept a straight face and said, Right. Ira is a good man. He really cares about your well
being.
He scratched his pubic hair and then said, I know, I know. When I told him that I
wanted to have some rest and recreation he immediately reserved this room for me. Hes being
like a brother to me. Okay, tell me the good news? Did you find me a virgin?
I shook my head and said, Not yet, Dr. Stratton, not yet. It seems that virgins are a rare
commodity these days. But Ill keep trying, you can bet on that. Trust me, okay?
Okay, he said swallowing another drink down his throat. Im not in a hurry, you
know. As a matter of fact Id like to stay here for at least another week. I love this place. And he
had another shot.
As you wish, I said. By the way, Dr. Stratton do you still have the black notebook
with all the data concerning the Genome Project? Tatiana is very worry about what happened to
it. She wants you to win the Nobel Prize. Shes so proud of you.
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He looked at the almost empty bottle and said, Yes, poor Tatiana. Ira told me that she
was in the hospital as a result of a fall from a bicycle. Is that right?

Yes, thats right, I said. Couple of broken bones, nothing serious.
Im glad to hear that. Shes a bright young woman. He drank down the rest of the
whiskey and then said, What were we talking about? Oh, yes, the data book. Well, at first I
brought the notebook here, but later on I decided it was too risky, so I gave it Ira who agreed to
put it away in his strong box. Thats where the notebook is. And thats the truth. Believe me.
Okay, I believe you, Dr. Stratton. The reason Im so concern about the notebook is
because there is a group of Iranian hard-liners involved and
I heard a noise. I turned around and saw Nefertiti standing on the threshold. She was
pointing a .38 revolver directly at Dr Strattons head.
Give me liberty or give me death! Dr. Stratton shrieked and leaped on Nefertiti.
Unfortunately his jump wasnt accurate enough and his head hit the wall instead. He plummeted
down and lay still. I jumped on Nefertiti, but she quickly stepped aside and hit me on my head
with the butt of his .38. I lost my cool.
When I recovered my cool I found myself lying on the floor inside Dr Strattons room. I
looked around but Dr Stratton was gone. I got up, went outside, pushed my way thru the throng
of people waiting in line to get into the john and walked out of the building. I walked a block,
found me a taxi and went back to my castle. Once inside I dialed Ashis number.
A: Hello,
Me: Hi, Ashi, its me, Bravo. Listen, I need to talk to Ira. Can you tell him to come to your
apartment right away? Its very important. Can you do this for me?
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A: Sorry, Bravo. Ira is in Cleveland Ohio, attending a scientist convention and wont be back
until the day after tomorrow. As soon as hes back Ill let you know. Okay?
Me: Okay. Thanks. And I hung up. Son of a bitch I exclaimed. You have 48 hours to live,
sneaky professor! Im going to fry your ass. Wait and see Then I dropped my body into my
couch and passed away. Temporarily, you know.
?????
Vivian. X-Y=M or Isnt that a gibberish language?
I got up by nine pm and by nine-thirty I was at my post. Half-hour later a girl came to my
bench, sat down and said, Tell me your story.
I looked at her skinny body, at her tasteless dress, at her ugly face and then told her my
story. She agreed and moved her jaws like this.
My name is Vivian Teller and Im a graduate of The Order. I was known as Forelock
Vivian because I had a big mop of white hair on top of my head. Other than that, I was
considered to be plain, squalid, unshapely, and unattractive. Thats why I never had any boys
running after my blind vagina. My tough luck. Anyway, after I graduated I got me a job as a
secretary in a printing office in South Miami. It was there when one day I saw this ad:
For girls only: X-Y= Match, Inc.
PO Box 555
Florida, 32903
X= Your pluses, such as intelligence, education, young age, melodious voice, well-developed
rump, normal-size feet or any other good thing you can think of.
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Y= Your minuses, such as slow thinker, cross-eyed, high school drop-out, raspy voice, crooked
teeth, big nose, no tits, big feet, or any other odd thing that you may have.
M= Match. If your minuses exceed your pluses, then, and only then, we can help. We specialize
in finding guys who are in the same predicament. Just fill this form and mail it together with
your picture and a check or money order for the amount of $500.00 to the address above
I did what the ad said and waited. Within two weeks I received a postcard from the X-Y=M
office. It said:
We found your perfect match.
Who? Richard Seelman
What? Dinner
Where? Bar and Grill Restaurant, Coconut Groves
When? This Friday at eight.
I kissed the card and crossed my fingers. I didnt waste any time and Friday by eight I was sitting
at a table sipping a glass of Chardonnay. Ten minutes later my man showed up.
Hi, he said. Im Richard Seelman. And he extended his right arm.
I shook his hand. Vivian Teller. Wont you sit down?
Thanks, he said, sitting down right across from my face. I looked at him and he looked
at me. He was barely over five feet, had a big nose, Dumbo ears, and yes, half of his hair was
covered by a thick streak of white hair. He couldnt be more than thirty. He was wearing a blue
suit, a red tie and a magenta shirt. How are you? I said just for openers.
Im fine, he said. Is thatand he pointed at my forelockpainted or genuine?
My forelock is a 100% genuine. How about yours?
Mine is also the real thing. Did you know that the chance of two persons having
Piebaldism is one in a billion?
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No, I didnt know that. Is that what this white streak of hair is called?
Why, yes. Piebaldism is a benign genetic disorder of pigmentation that is caused by a
mutation of the KIT gene.
How interesting, I said. Say, are you a doctor?
Yes. A board certified internal medicine doctor. Uh-oh, I see the waitress coming our
way.
Sir? the waitress said.
Bring me a bottle of whiskey. Any brand.
The waitress left and I said, Tell me, Richard, what in the world the KIT gene is?
Its a type of gene associated with another gene found in kittens. Mutations in KIT are
associated with gastrointestinal tumors and piebaldism. Didnt you know that?
No, I didnt know. But tell me more about your work. I bet that you had a pretty rough
week, huh?
You haveOh, there comes my drink.
The waitress came, put the bottle on the table and left. Richard promptly poured himself a
big shot and drank it in a big gulp. Ahhhhh! he said. That hit the spot. As I was saying, you
have no idea. On Monday I had a lady with a PUD who refused to have a test for detection of
H.pylori because, she said, she had read in a magazine that sodium bicarbonate was good
enough. Told me to go to hell. That cow!
Some people are like that, I said. Ahem, can you tell me what PUD and H. pylori
mean?
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Sure thing, he said, having another shot. PUD stands for Peptic Ulcer Disease and H.
pylori is a urease-producing organism that colonize the gastric mucosa in almost all patients with
PUD. Didnt you know that?
Sorry, no, I didnt know that. Who else gave you problem?
On Tuesday I had an elderly man complaining about post void dribbling. When I told
him to drop his pants so that I could perform a DRE he called me a sexual deviate and ran out of
my office screaming, The devil wants my ass, the devil wants my ass.
Crazy son of a bitch, I said. Whats a DRE?
He had another big shot. DRE means Digital Rectal Exam. The guy was probably
suffering from BPH.
Whats that?
He had another shot. You dont know much about anything, do you? BPH stands for
Benign Prostatic Hyperplasia or an overgrown prostate gland. Jesus!
So sorry, Richard. Who else gave you trouble?
On Wednesday I had a 70 years old male patient whose EKG revealed persistent STsegments elevation. When I told him that may be at risk for an infarct, and that hed better go to
the ER for further observation, he swallowed his dentures and suffocated right on the spot. My
nurse fainted and I had to give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Yipes! And he poured himself
a large shot and gulped it down.
I know what an EKG is Richard, but whats an ST-segment elevation and what does an
infarct mean?
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He had another big shot. Goddamn! You ignorant bitch. The EKG consists of a P wave,
followed by a QRS complex, then a flat ST segment and finally a T wave. A ST-segment
elevation indicates a possible infarct or heart attack. Didnt you know that?
Listen Richard; lets not get ugly. What happened the next day?
On Thursday I had a fat rich lady with a bad case of constipation. I told her that her
constipation was due to a bad case of IF and proceeded to dig it out. She screamed throughout
the procedure and when it was all over she told me that she was suing me for damage to her
sexual life.
Those fat ladies are always a problem. Fatsos! Eh, ah, whats an IF?
He has another big shot. Shit! Dont you know anything? IF stands for Impacted Feces,
get it?
Yeah, I got it. How about today? Who gave you problems?
Today I had a patient who told me that he had a melanoma on the glans of his penis, a
pain over his sternum, OA on his right knee, anorexia and an URI. Then he started laughing and
walked out on me. A typical case of Munchausens syndrome.
Do me a favor and talk to me in plain English, will you?
He drank the rest of the whiskey straight from the bottle. You dumbbell! Melanoma is a
cancer of the skin but could be in any other place, OA means Osteoarthritis, anorexia is lack of
appetite and URI stands for Upper Respiratory Infection. The Munchausens Syndrome is an
imaginary set of symptoms invented by a patient. In other words, hes a goddamned liar. He
wasted an hour of my invaluable time. Shit! And that was nothing compared with my last
months problems. Let me tell you about them.
No need to, Richard. I had enough of your gibberish language.
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What? he screamed. Gibberish language? Listen, you imbecile, Im a doctor and this is
my everyday language. Youre supposed to listen to my problems and show some sympathy for
me. Egocentric bitch!
That does it, I said. Guess what POW stands for?
What are you talking about, you idiot?
I picked up the empty bottle and hit him right on top of his forelock. He passed out
immediately. Now you can add that to your gibberish language, asshole! I said, getting up and
dashing toward the entrance door. In my rush I didnt see a man coming in and bumped onto
him.
He said, Hey, lady going youre where watch.
I gave him a good look. He was at least thirty, had wavy brown hair, brown eyes, and
heavy brown eyebrows. Was wearing a blue T-shirt, jeans and blue tennis shoes. He looked fit as
a fiddle.
Sorry, I said. Is that a gibberish language?
He stared at me and said, Yeah. Tongue forked a with speak I. Tonight sex having like
feel I. You about how? Heat in stallion a as horny as I am.
I said, Im too. But Im a virgin.
Done harm no. Penis small a Ive
Well, what the hell. Is about time that I get laid. Okay. Where do you want to go?
Me follow. Alley the in outside.
I followed him into the alley. He pulled his pants down and showed me his three-inch
erect penis. Clothing your off take. Thing a feel wont you.
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I did. He lifted me and put me on top of the garbage can. Eyes your close and wide legs
your open.
I did. I felt a prick and then he started rocking. I felt good. Go ahead, I screamed. Put
your ball inside too.
He did and then I felt something coming from my vagina to my head. Oh, oh, oh, oh!
Gooooooooooooooooooooooooooood! Dont take them out. This is heaven. Another one is
coming. Oh, oh, oh, oh! Goooooooooooooooooooooood!
And he said, OOOOOOOOOOOOOMINOREG! And he fell to the ground and started
snoring.
I got down from the garbage can and told him, away chastity my blowing for Thanks.
Marvelous are balls your. want I sex the all have can I Now. Thanks. And I put my clothing on
and left the premises. End of the story.
Well, Mr. Bravo, how did you like my story?
I love it, Vivien. I never trust those matching outfits. By the way, whats your advice to
your sisters?
Right. Sisters, when youre ready to have your flower deflower, never choose a doctor.
Theyre all egocentric bastards who speak a language of their own and are totally insensitive to
your needs. Pick a guy who talks your own language even if he speaks with a forged tongue.
There.
Smart, very smart, Vivien. Get your free Directory from your Campus bookstore by next
summer, okay?
Super, she said. And got up and left.
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I put my recorder away, got up and direct my feet toward the Sports Emporium, two
blocks away. I found me a stool in front of the TV and ordered thirty hot Buffalo wings and a
giant bucket of Mexican beer. The order came within five minutes and I proceeded to eat and
drink and drink and eat while watching the History of China. By one oclock the History was
finished and so was I. I burped like Mao and then went home. Hasta manana.
Day 13
The main event or Is this a fair fight?
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The next day, I was ready by two. I had a Mexican omelet with a pot of Colombian
coffee and then split my hole. Down in Lummus Park a couple of teens were having fun
throwing eggs at the pedestrians. So what? Maybe they are allergic to eggs. I shrugged and
looked down the road for a taxi. To my surprise there was one right there by the curb. I
approached it and told the driver to take me to the City General Hospital where Tatiana was. I
wanted to see how she was doing. When I was about to enter the back seat of the taxi somebody
came from behind me and hit me over my right ear with a hard object. The last words I heard
were, You did well, cabby. Now drive off to And then I stopped hearing.
When I came back to reality, I found myself tied down to a very hard table. I turned my
head to my left and saw an autoclave, a Kiielland forceps, an Auvard speculum, a Kavorkian
forceps and a head extractor, all lined up on top of a thin, rectangular table directly in front of
me. An abortion clinic, I said out loud.
Right on, Mr. Bravo, right on, a voice to my right said.
I turned my head and saw a man walking into the room, a contemptuous smile on his dark
face and a serrated long scalpel in his right hand. He certainly resembled Ali and Abdul. He
approached me.
Allow me to introduce myself, he said. Im Faisal Al-Khomeini, M.D. I bought me a
medical license from a congressman and now I do what I like to do. He waved the serrated
scalpel in front of my eyes. See this? This is a battery-operated steel surgical scalpel. I use it to
cut the heads and limbs of unwanted babies. Im going to do the same to you, unless you tell us
what we want to know. No local anesthesia, you know. Well see how much pain you can
endure. Now, listen carefully. Im going to let you lose and take you to Mohammad. He wants to
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know where Dr Stratton is. Tatiana must have told you before you killed my brother Abdul. And
dont try anything funny or Ill cut you in half, you understand?
I do, I said.
He untied me and I got up from the table. He positioned himself behind me and pushed
me out of the room. Straight ahead until you see a door with my name on it. Go right in.
Move!
I marched out, followed his instructions and got to his office. The door was half-open.
Faisal kicked me in and I almost fell down. I recovered my posture and surveyed the situation.
To my right, I saw Mohammad sitting behind a large lapis lazuli desk, a .45 pistol in his right
hand and my gun in his left hand. And to his left, I saw a beautiful blonde dressed up in a white
pristine nurse uniform, looking down on me, a sardonic smile on her erotic lips.
Hello there, Mr. Bravo, she said. Remember me?
Ill be damned! I said. Christine Schneider.!
And this is my man, Mohammad Al-Raschid, she said, leaning toward Mohammad and
kissing him on his lips. Mohammad caressed her pointed tits for a second or two and then shoved
her away. She smiled and stood by his side.
A converted American, I said. How come?
She spat at me. How come? A group of bloodthirsty freaking Jews killed my only sister,
Hildegarde, just because she had written a book praising the work of Dr Mengele on the genetic
composition of Jewish twins. But revenge is sweet. Yes, we will erase the freaking Jews off the
face of the earth. All of them!
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A good German rationalization, I said. I bet you used the same excuse to get all the
information about Dr Stratton and his work from the files of Dr Bliss and then passed on to your
lover, didnt you Fraulein?
Shut up! Christine yelled at me. Listen to what my man has to say, you imbecile!
I looked at Mohammad. He was dark, bearded and mean looking. He was sitting in a
black leather chair. He pointed his .45 Luger in my direction and said, Well, well, Mr. Bravo,
we finally meet face to face. Weve been playing mouse and cat for a while now, havent we?
The question is who is the mouse and who is the cat, isnt it? I know that you have been working
hard to find Dr. Stratton and the data book, and in your pursuit, you killed Soraya, my niece, her
fianc Saddam, and my two cousins, Ali and Abdul. But its okay. I understand, believe me. A
man has to do what he has to do. I was trying to get the same things you were after and, just like
you, I had to bump off some bodies along the way. Take Sydney, for instance. A double-crosser
infidel. My boss, The Great Ayatollah, tipped me off and ordered me to terminate him with
extreme prejudice. Thats what I sent Ali to do him in. But you interceded and killed my poor
cousin. But its okay. You were doing your duty. Now when Tatiana told me to meet her at
Bryant Park, I suspected that Sydney was cooking some kind of scheme to get rid of us, so I
tailed her until she met you at Perestroikas. My Muslim friends bugged your table and I found
out that my suspicion was right. Soooo, the night of the rendezvous Faisal, disguised as
homeless, and me wandered around the Park and waited until we spotted Tatiana and Sydney.
They never saw us. They talked for a while and then each went his own way. We decided to take
care of Sydney first, so we followed him to the hotel and had an unfriendly chat with him in the
rest room. He denied knowing where Dr Stratton was so Faisal put a blade thru his neck. So, you
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see, Mr. Bravo, I did my duty just like you. There were others along the way that met the same
fate as Sydney, like Dr. Bliss, for example, right Chris?
She nodded and said, You bet, my love.
Mohammad smiled at her and continued his tirade. As I said, Mr. Bravo, a man has to
do what he has to do. Actually, the only difference between you and me is that you killed for
money and I killed for an ideology. Yes, I want to restore Iran to what it was before, namely, the
greatest nation on the face of this planet-politically, economically, and culturally. My plan is
to make hundreds of 1918 viruses and use them to wipe your country and the freaking Jews off
the face of this Earth and start a New Order.
He took a deep breath and then continued. As you can see, Mr. Bravo, you have your
own personal motive for killing and thats okay, I accept that. You, in turn, have to accept that I,
too, have my own personal reasons for killing. So, now I want you to be reasonable and tell me
where Dr Stratton is. And please, please, dont try to be a hero. If you dont cooperate with me,
Faisal will start cutting your limbs, one by one, until you bleed to death. What do you say? Do
we have a deal?
Deal, I said.
He turned his head toward Christine and smiled at her. That was all the opportunity I
needed. As soon as the muzzle of the guns pointed away from me, I leaped like a tiger and
tackled Mohammad. We both crashed against the wall behind the lapis lazuli desk. Unfortunately
for him and fortunately for me, his head hit the corner of one of the files behind the desk and he
lost consciousness immediately. He also lost the two guns, which rolled over the floor and
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disappeared under the desk. I quickly got up, turned around and faced an oncoming Faisal and
his humming serrated scalpel.
Your time is up, infidel, he screamed, and came directly toward me. I did my
revolving door trick and kicked him over the fourth intercostal space, left of the sternum, where
the aortic valve is located.
He stopped in his tracks, dropped the humming scalpel, and plummeted down. By a
strange coincidence, his throat fell right over the vibrating scalpel and his neck was shredded to
pieces of arteries, veins, nerves, muscles, and ligaments. He kicked his feet three times and then
joined his two brothers in the house of Pluto.
I straightened my body up, looked behind the desk and saw Mohammad getting up. I
jumped on him and the two of us wrestled around the room, hitting each other with our fists, legs
and arms. I finally caught him with a triple left hook and he went down. I looked around for
Christine, but didnt see her. Mohammad jumped back up and we continued our fighting dance.
All of a sudden, Christine emerged from under the desk holding Mohammad gun in her right
hand.
Shoot him, shoot him, Mohammad told her. She fired one round and hit Mohammad on
his left arm. Ouch! he yelled, and let go of me.
I did a triple somersault and landed right on top of Christines hairdo. She twirled her
eyes, put a stupid smile on her face and sunk into oblivion. The gun came off her hand, rolled
over the floor, and, once again, disappeared under the desk. I stared at Mohammad and told him,
This is it, Mohammad, its just you and me. Put your guard up, asshole!
He put his right arm up and said, Yes, Mr. Bravo, lets settle our differences once and
for all. As you can see, my left arm is useless, so I expect you to put your left arm behind your
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back and give me a fair chance. One right arm against another right arm, right?
Wrong, Mohammad, I said, licking my lips. Youve seen too many movies. I never
give a sucker an even break. If you cant use your left arm, thats too freaking bad for you. On
guard!
I circled him, moving to his left so he couldnt defend himself properly. His left arm just
hung there like a piece of dry sausage. I danced around him, Ali style, and hit him with a double
combination of left hook to his head and straight right to his chin. He shook his head and smiled.
I hit again with a one-two over his chest. He smiled again. I closed on him and hit him with a
kick to his left arm and another kick to his right groin. He let out a growl. I hit him with my right
elbow over his forehead and he hit the floor. One, two, three, four, I counted. He got up and I
continued my dance. Jab to his lips, jab to his nose, jab to his eyes. Blood started dripping down
his chin. I threw a hard straight right hand to his jaw, missed, and lost my equilibrium for a
second. He quickly engaged me in a tight clinch. We both hit each other with all we had. He hit
me and I hit him in the following fashion:
Right to my chin, left to his liver and right to his spleen; right to my eye, left to his jaw and right
to his mouth; right to my eyebrow, left to his right ear and right to his stomach; nothing to my
body, left to his stomach and right to his stomach; left to his liver and right to his stomach; blood
spewed out of his nose and ears, left to his liver and right to his heart; blood fell over my mouth
and lips; left to his broken nose and right to his mouth; I kicked him in his stomach and he
vomited more blood; left to his stomach and right to his stomach; he opened his mouth wide and
black blood covered his lips and chin; he doubled up in pain and slowly, slowly, fell down on his
back; I kicked him in his stomach and on his face, over and over, until his nose was gone, his ear
was inside his cranium and his mouth was a red pulp. Finally, he made a croaking sound and
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stopped moving. I kicked his skull one more time, just to make sure. Yeap, the crazy hijo de puta
was gone.
I used my hankie to wipe my blood and sweat off my face and looked over to the spot where
Christine had fallen, but the spot was clear, I mean, she was gone. My guess was that, when she
saw her lover kick the bucket, she took off without saying good-bye. Good for her. I shoved my
hankie inside Mohammad mouth and told him, Wipe your mouth and nose, or they wont let
you into Paradise. He said nothing. I shrugged, crawled under the lapis lazuli desk, found my
gun, put it back in its crib, and went out of the killing ground.
To my surprise, I found myself in front of a small white building close to the Doctors
Hospital in Coral Gables. On the wall next to the entrance door, there was a large plaque. It said:
Women Tender Loving Care
Faisal Al-Khomeini, M.D.
Fellow of the American College of Ob & Gyn. (FACOG)
* Family planning * Laser Surgery
* High Risk Pregnancy * Female Surgery
* All Medical Insurance Accepted
* Our motto: The world is overpopulated
I spat on the plaque and then walked over to the nearest telephone booth. I got in and
dialed 911.
Rubella speaking, a voice said. Whats your problem?
My name is Chuck Owens, CIA agent. I just killed two Iranian terrorists. They were
plotting to overthrow our government, can you believe that? Anyway, send an ambulance to
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2233 University Drive. Ill be here waiting. Hurry up because Im seriously wounded and losing
a lot of blood. Got all that?
Yeah, I got it. Listen, buddy, if you feel dizzy, lie down, but first put your wallet inside
your underwear or otherwise you will lose your money. Know what I mean?
Got you, Rubella. Thanks for the tip. Bye.
I hung up, picked up the phone book and looked Emma Hardbutt up. I dialed the number.
Emma: Hello?
Me: Its me, Mr. Bravo. Just to tell you that I found out where Dr. Stratton is.
Emma: Congratulations Mr. Bravo for a job well done. Where did you find him?
Me: Thats for me to know and for you to spit out more money, like a cool million.
Emma: No problem, Mr. Bravo, no problem at all. Lee KY will deliver the money tomorrow. Is
that okay with you?
Me: Sounds good to me. Bye. And I hung up. I scratched my big balls, laughed like a wild dog
and took a taxi all the way home.
Back inside my dwelling, I undressed, got inside the shower and stayed under the rain for
almost one hour. I finally came out clean as a whistle and hungry as a wolf can be. I went to the
kitchen and prepared me a rare 12-ounce sirloin steak, with a bowl of rice and beans, and a pot of
coffee. Just like a cowboy. And just like a cowboy, I did away with the protein-rich meal in
about four and half minutes. Greeeeat! I cleaned my mess, put my bikini shorts on and hit the
sack. I fell asleep within one second flat. Then, within five minutes, I started having a nightmare.
I saw myself fighting the Germans at Bastogne. Bang, bing, bang, boom, boom, pow, bing,
bing, bang. Suddenly I got hit in my right leg by one of those bullets and I fell down inside a
trench. Christine Schneider materialized in front of me and pointed an oversize Luger at my head
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and said, Your time is up, asshole! And she fired five shots at me. Bang, bing, pow, boom,
boom. Luckily for me, I awoke at that very moment. Then, and only then, I realized that all that
fire had been coming from my guts. Goddamn! All they say about beans is nothing but the truth.
I went back to sleep with a smile on my face and a back hole in my bikini. Bing, bang, pow,
bang, boom, boom.
?????
Laura: Ethics in Congress or "Is this the Washington way?"
Three hours later I was on my post watching the hedonist passing me by. They were
selling drugs, smoking pot, drinking from the bottle, hollering obscenities, snorting coke, and
laughing hysterically. I yelled at them, "Way to go, bozos.
One of the girls detached herself from the crowd and came over, pointed at my cap and
then said, ""Hey buddy, that's my school. What the hell do you think you're doing?
I gave her a going over. She was in her late thirties, had a baby face, tinted green hair,
and an elongated neck. On her tits she was wearing nothing; on her hips she was wearing an
ultra short jean. Wow! In her right hand she was holding a bottle of beer, and on her feet she had
a filthy pair of flip-flops. And, oh, yeah, her left eye kept on blinking. She looked like a
streetlight going bad. I explained my purpose; she drank the rest of the beer, threw the empty
bottle behind the bench, sat down and blinked and talked, and talked and blinked. Like this.
My name is Laura Collins and I attended a pre-law program at The Order and then
Law school in Cleveland, Ohio. It was there that I met Harvey Blake my professor of Ethics. He
was tall, blonde, thin, had a very prominent Adams apple and. imagine, he had a blinking eye
just like I had. What a coincidence. He was a fervent admirer of Socrates and his concept on
knowledge and wisdom. Put aside personal interest and seek knowledge above all. Happiness
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is achieved by doing what is right. Keep your conscience clean and dont let the bastards change
your ideals. Be happy by being pure, he used to say. To me he was the perfect man and I fell in
love with him. I made a point of sitting in the middle of the first row and stared at his blinking
eye. It wasnt long before he notices me and we became friends. Platonic friends that is. He
liked to talk about his career and how he wanted to become a congressman and clean the
corrupted House of Representatives. I gave him my full support and helped him to run for
office. The republicans were in total disarray and it was very easy for him to get elected. Of
course, he gave me an A in the course and then we got engaged. Wait for me a couple of
years, no more, and Ill make you Mrs. Blake he promised. I reluctantly agreed. I became a
public defender and was poor but happy.
One evening, two years later, I had just finished my vegetarian dinner when somebody
rang my entrance door. I opened it up and there was Harvey, fat, sweaty and with a black patch
on his left eye. He was wearing a blue suit, magenta shirt, red tie and shiny black shoes.
I: Why, Harvey, what a surprise. How are you?
Harvey: Fine and dandy, Laura. And you?
I: Im fine and glad that youre fine. Come on in.
He did, sat down in my love seat and I sat on my armchair facing him.
I: Well, tell me about what did you do on the hill?
Did you straighten those bastards? And what did
you learn?
Harvey: You have no idea, dear Laura. Do you know what happens to a Congressman when
hes caught DUI?
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I: Of course. He gets a stiff fine, a six-month suspension of his drivers license and two
hundred hours of community work,
Harvey: No, no, and no. Thats for the common folks. As soon I flashed my id, the police gave
me
an ear test, took me home, ask me for my autograph and tucked me in bed.
I: Hummmm. What else did you learn?
Harvey: Do you know what happens to a congressman when hes found with a quarter
million dollar in his freezer?
I: Certainly. Hes dragged to jail, stripped of his
duties and sent to jail for fifty years.
Harvey: Come again. Not in your life. When that
happens the police have a big laugh, get some of the
of the dough for themselves, tell me to buy a bigger freezer and we all have a drink.
I: Not fair to the common citizen, just not fair. What else did you learn?
Harvey: Do you know what happens to a congressman when he gets the flu?
I: Sure. Hes told to go home, take aspirin and plenty of fluid for three days.
Harvey:
He, he, he. I told you. Were not the usual folks. I go to the best hospital in
Washington, get a private room with digital TV, four meals a day, two private nurses, three
doctors, a flu shot, some antibiotic and a masseuse to keep my muscles moving. La dulce vita for
two weeks. La, la, la.
I: Shame on you, Harvey. What else did you learn?
Harvey: Do you know what happens to a congressman when he decides to invest in the stock
market?
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I: He probably goes to a wealth management firm and let them pick the good stocks.
Harvey: Silly girl. I get the scoop from Samuel Goldsmith Brothers and invest only in those
pharmaceutical companies that theyd invested in. Those guys know the inside story of Wall
Street. After all, they own the stock market.
I: Stunning! What else did you learn?
Harvey: Do you know what happens to a congressman when he quits?
I: I guess he goes to the country side, buy a cottage and write his memoirs.
Harvey: Thats for the broken down old guys. Not us. Tell you what we do. We become
lobbyist, make millions on the side, buy a penthouse in Alexandria and become a life time
member of the Cloak and Dagger Club, the most notorious club in Washghinton for planning
wars. Wars mean manufacturing planes, tanks, weapons, bombs, and bullets, lots of bullets. So
we invest in those manufacturers and make millions. No need for social security. At all.
I: I cant believe my ears, Harvey. How can you betray your ideals on Ethics?
Harvey: Hey, kiddo, wake up. At the end of the road there is nothing but money and power,
look at you living in this cheap apartment. It stinks! How about your senior years? And the
future
of
your
children?
I: I guess I never saw it that way. Well, what do you have in mind for me? Why did you come
to see me again? Are we going to get married?
Harvey: Why, of course. But first let me ask you a question. Are you still a virgin?
I: Of course, Harvey. Ive kept it intact just for you.
Harvey: Time is wasting! And he got up, grabbed me by my shoulders, stripped me naked,
pushed me against the wall and then blew my virginity
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I: Oh, Harvey that was so gooooood. You do have a big machine, my God. Stiff and large. I
love it. Only one thing: why didnt you get undress?
Harvey: Thats another thing I learned on the hill; never let anybody catch you with the pants
down.
We both laughed and then it was off to the hill. We got married and pretty soon I was doing the
rounds as a congressmans wife. Parties and more parties, anniversaries birthdays, valentines,
Labor Day, Fourth of July, thanksgiving, Christmas, What a bore. My husband got up by six am
and got home after midnight, all tired out and drunk. Of course he couldnt get it up so I had no
sex life. He grew progressively fat and silly and I was more than glad when he dropped dead in
front of the capitol. What a relief! I sold everything, cash in and flew to Miami, bought me a
condo in the south beach and now I got laid every night. Congressmen are nothing else but a
bunch of no-good, corrupted, greedy bastards. And most of them are impotent anyway. End of
the story. What do you have to say?
I: I must say that I concur with you. Congress is rotten to the core. Well, I thank you very
much, Come back here in a couple of weeks for your free copy.
That sounds cool. Say, do you want a piece of me, right here and now?
No, thanks. I had a wild orgy last night and my penis is all swollen and lacerated. But
maybe be another day.
I understand. My labia minora is all lacerated too. I had five guys last night. Anyway,
Ill be around. See you.
I smiled put the recorder away and walked over Fiesta Azteca restaurant, filled my belly
with tortillas and beer and then went home and Ole.
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Day 14
La femme fatale or Is this the fourth of July?
Next day I got up around six in the balmy afternoon, performed my bodily functions, and
did all of my -ings until I found myself half-way attractive. My mind sent me a picture of Ira
and I said out loud, Ira, Ill see you tomorrow. Get ready to answer some fraking questions,
asshole! Then I prepared myself a cup of Cuban coffee and sat in front of the TV to sip my
caffeine and to listen to the bad news. At that precise moment the phone rang. I put my empty
cup down, got up and walked over where Grahams invention was sitting. I picked it up.
Yeeeeees? I screamed.
Its me, Karen. Hold your horses and keep your big mouth shut for the next minute. We
found the bodies of Faisal and Mohammad. Thanks for letting us know--your gracious way. The
question now is: where do we go from here? And the answer is: we go to the mountain, meaning
you. Soooooooo, youve become the star player of this game. And the star players play only for
money. Okay. No problem. Im willing to pay you five hundred thousand dollars for information
leading to Dr Strattons whereabouts. What do you say?
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Sorry, Mac. You have to spit more shekels than that. One million tax-free, thats my
price. Take it or leave it.
Jesus, you make me sick. Dont you have any sense of duty toward your country? Is
money all you live for?
Not quite, Mac. Sex is almost as important. Right now, Im standing by my telephone
completely naked and the thought of you and me in bed has made my
Im not interested in your sexual aberrations, buster, she cut me off. I know youre
lying, just to make me mad. But okay, you win. Ill have dinner with you in your apartment and
well discuss the money matter a little bit further. In the mean time, can you advance me some
details on this affair? I want to start writing the story as soon as possible. And dont give me any
bull, okay?
Right, Mac. Do you remember Christine Schneider, Dr. Bliss nurse? A beautiful blonde
with big tits and a big
Spare me the details, buster, she interrupted me. Yes, I remember Christine. What
about her?
Well, Dr. Stratton gave Dr. Bliss the data book and she put it in his file. Christine was
the lover of one Iranian terrorist, Mohammad Al-Raschid and at his request, she killed Dr. Bliss
and got ah, ah, Karen? Karen? Are you still on the line? What was that? The same to you bitch!
And I hung up the Ameche, laughed like a zebra, and headed for the door, but the phone rang
again. I turned around and picked it up. Bravo, here, I said.
Its me, Christine Schneider. Listen carefully. Call this number within three seconds:
120-6653. And she hung up.
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I counted to three and then dialed the number. Christines voice said, Good boy. Now go
to the lobby of La Casa Hotel on Ocean Drive and go into the second phone booth counting from
left to right. Now! Dead phone.
I got out of my apartment in a hurry and ran south to La Casa. Three minutes. I entered
the lobby, located the phone booth and got into it. Within five seconds the phone rang. I picked
the receiver up and said, Bravo, here.
Youre doing fine, Bravo, just fine, Christine said. Now go to the Al-Kazam
Restaurant three blocks south and meet me there. I have an important proposition for you. It is so
good that youll be eternally grateful to me. You have ten minutes to get here or Ill leave. Now,
get going! Dead line.
I got out of the hotel, ran down the road and within nine minutes I was walking into the
crowded dining room of the Al-Kazam. It took me only a glance to locate Christine. She was
sitting in a table for two in the back of the dining room, sipping a cup of coffee. I walked briskly
toward her, reached her side, pulled a chair, sat down and said, Allah be with you. Whats
inside that pretty head of yours?
She pointed to a pink hand purse lying on top of the table, to her left, and said, Inside
that purse there is a plastic bomb that will explode within five seconds after I push the crown of
this--and she showed me her Omega--wrist watch. The bomb is so powerful that it will blow this
place away, I mean away, so, before you do anything crazy, sit still and listen to my
proposition. She paused for a second, gave me a fake smile and then continued her monologue.
You and I are the only survivors of this affair. Everybody else is dead. You killed Mohammad
and his family, so what? I killed Dr. Bliss, so what? You acted in the line of duty and I acted in
the line of love. Were both justified in what we did. Now, we have to keep on with our lives and
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forget the past. Ive been authorized to pay you two million dollars for the answer to this simple
question. Where is Dr Stratton? Do you know the answer to that simple question?
Of course I do, Fraulein, I said, looking at the pink purse and at her wristwatch. Dr
Stratton is
A fat waitress interrupted our conversation. Hello, folks, she said. Our specials of the
day are: Beef and Herb Soup with Yogurt, Persian Kebabs, Stuffed Spring Lamb, Baked Fish
with Nuts and Eggplant Bake. Whats your pleasure?
Another coffee for me, Christine said.
Make that two, I said.
The waitress mumbled, Goddamn cheapos! and moved her fat legs away.
I resumed the conversation. I guess the two millions come from The Ayatollah and his
hard-line extremists, huh?
Right youre, she said. Do you mind?
Of course not, I said. Money is money. How about you? What do you get?
The fat waitress materialized by our side. Coffee, she said, putting two cups on the
table. Have you decided on what to eat?
Not yet, Christine said. Come back in ten minutes, will you?
Take your time, take your goddamn time, the fatso said, walking away from us.
Christine took a sip of her coffee and then said, I get one million. Im going to Tehran
and set up a free clinic for the poor. Most rewarding. How about you? How do you plan on
spending your money?
I sipped my coffee and then said, Im going to retire from this stinking business, go to
the French Riviera and have an easy life. Visit Cannes, Nice, St. Tropez, Monte Carlo, Portofino,
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and San Remo. And in between, nothing but gourmet food, French wine, and French girls. The
good life. Hey, Christine, thanks, youre okay.
She smiled and then said, I knew youd accept, partner.
Cool, I said. When do I get my money, partner?
Ill give you one hundred thousand right now, she said. That will seal our agreement. I
have the money in the trunk of my car. Please, follow me. She grabbed the pink purse, pulled
out a twenty from it, dropped the bill on the table, and got up. She was wearing a very tight
white, red and blue dress. I looked at her tits and said, You look sexsational Christine.
Thank you, she said. Lets go.
Sure thing, baby, I said, and trailed her to the parking lot.
Over there, to my right, by the light, she said. The black Mercedes.
I see it, I said. Nice car.
We walked over the Benz and stopped by the drivers door. She put the pink purse on top
of the car, dug out a set of keys from her right pocket and said, Wait here. Ill get the money.
She stepped up to the rear of the car, opened the trunk and pulled out a black briefcase. Catch it!
she yelled, and threw the case over my head. Naturally, I jumped up, caught the case in mid-air
and then gravity pulled me down.
Freeeze! she hollered, pointing a small pistol at my head. Dont you make a move or
Ill blow your head off. She came closer to me. You, low class Hispanic scum, she spat out.
Did you really think that I was going to let you live after you killed the only man I ever loved? I
hate you with all my guts! Now that Mohammad is dead, I couldnt care less about anything else.
All I want is to get even with you. Im going to enjoy killing you. For openers, put that case
down and drop your pants. Now!
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I put the case in front of me and, then, in a swift movement, I kicked it toward the angel
of death. She managed to shoot one round, but the bullet just grazed the top of my head. The
briefcase, on the other hand, hit her on her face and she fell down. I leaped like a cheetah, and,
like a cheetah, I fell all over her. We rolled over the dirty asphalt, over and over. She tried to
shoot me again, but I snatched her gun away from her hand and used the butt to hit her on top of
her head. Naturally, she passed out. I got up, dragged her body over the Benz and shoved it
inside the trunk.
She muttered, Mohammad, Mohammad, is that you? Hit me again. And turn the lights
on, please.
I ran to the side of the car, grabbed the pink purse and ran back to the trunk.
Mohammad, Mohammad, the lights, the lights, turn the lights on, she kept saying.
I yanked her wristwatch off, rammed the pink purse inside her bra and then told her,
Count to five, dear, and youll see the lights again. I pushed the crown of the watch down,
dropped it into the trunk and ran the hell out as fast as I could.
Boooooom! Booooom! Boooom! I heard behind my back. I stopped running, looked
back and saw the Benz in flames. Kaboooom! Kaboooom! Kaboooom! Booooom! Boooom!
Boooooooooommm! Goddamn! The Benz flipped its trunk and exploded in a big, fiery ball of
fire. It was like the fourth of July all over again. Too bad Christine wasnt around to celebrate the
festivity. One thing was for sureshe was certainly dressed for the occasion. I took a last look
at the bon fire and left the premises laughing my big balls of fire off all the way to Ocean
Avenue. I looked for a street vendor until I found one. I ordered a whole chicken Creole with
black beans, white rice, fried sweet plantains and six bottles of Mex. beer. I devoured the
delicious meal in fifteen minutes, gulped down the beer in twenty, and then burped like a chicken
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ready to be strung up. After that I headed home and was about to walk up the stairs leading to my
cubbyhole when somebody called my name.
Bravo, Bravo, over here. Its me, Lee KY.
I turned around and saw Lee. He was wearing a black T-shirt, black pants and black
shoes. Hello, nin com poop, I said casually, did you bring me the money?
He approached me in a feline-like fashion. Hello, hell, he said, very crossed. You sent
me in a wild goose chase on la calle ocho. Nobody can make a fool of Lee KY-- nobody. As far
as the money is concern, forget about it. There is no money. But there is this promise from me to
you: If you dont tell me where Dr Stratton is Im going to break every bone in your body and
then feed them to the dogs. Remember that I have a triple black belt in karate.
I pointed a finger at his chest and then said, Let me tell you something nin com poop.
When I was in college I took kickboxing, tae kwon do, praying mantis, kung fu, tai chi chuan,
and illegal judo. I also have a triple black belt in karate. Besides, Im a heavyweight and youre a
featherweight so if I kick you over your sternum all of your ribs will collapse pronto and youll
die of respiratory arrest. And retrieved my finger.
He looked at his thin chest and then said, Maybe you have a point. Listen, Emma
promised me one million dollars if I found Dr Stratton and make him disappear for a month.
Why dont you tell me where he is and Ill be willing to give you half of my share. What do you
say?
Deal, nin com poop. Hes inside an urn. Ashes to ashes.
You mean, hes dead? How did he die? Where is the urn? Are you telling me the truth?
I swear to you, nothing but, I said. He had a heart attack shortly after I found him
hidden in a private club named the Bald Eagles Club located on 212380 Collins Avenue. He was
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screaming and yelling, completely out of his wits. He just collapsed and died. The cheapest way
to get rid of his body was to cremate him. And I did. I put the urn inside a trashcan on Collins
Avenue. Now that you know that you can run to your master and tell her the good news so that
her clients, Benny and Bonita, can collect the thirty millions left by Dr. Strattons brother.
What thirty millions? he asked kind of surprise. Emma told me that it was only five
millions. One million was for her, one million was for Dr. Clark, one million was for Benny, one
million was for Bonita and one million was for me. That was the agreement. Say, how do you
know it was thirty millions? Are you trying to con me?
Why should I? I just lost one million dollars. How? Listen carefully. And I told him
the story about Ursula, the 11,000 virgins and my fruitless search for one maiden. So, you see,
when Dr. Stratton died I lost one million blue chips. Thats why I accepted your offer so fast. If
you think that Im trying to con you, ask Emma for a copy of Dr. Strattons will and see for
yourself. Probably she figures that youre nothing but a stupid fool. Check it out.
I sure will, he said. Ill have a showdown with Emma and demand to see the will.
Shed better come out clean or Im going to kick the hell out of her. And as for you if youre not
on the level Im going to blow your apartment to pieces. I let you know the result. Ill be seeing
you. And he left.
I turned around, walked up the stairs, got inside my place, undressed, and jumped into my
couch. By the way, nin com poop, I yelled at the walls, I lie a lot. Survival of the feisty, you
know. And then fell asleep like a baby.
?????
Helen. The harbinger of the Messiah or Oh my gosh, do you really like sex?
One hour later I got up, put my cap on my head, my recorder in my pocket and out I went
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in the search for a virgin. I found my bench empty, sat on it and waited patiently for one hour
until a female came around. She was young, plump, and healthy-looking with a pretty face and
flashings brown eyes. Her hair was black, lustrous and tied down around her neck in a lengthy
ponytail. She was wearing green sneakers, green shorts and green blouse. She looked like a fat
Florida cricket to me. She asked me the usual questions and I gave her the usual answers. She
nodded in agreement, sat down and told me her tale. Like this.
My name is Helen Whitehead and I graduated from The Order four years ago. My major
was Philosophy and I was a member of the sorority. We were a very serious bunch always
arguing about what is real, what is true, what is right, what is wrong, what is the best form of
government, the origin of the universe, the laws of valid reasoning, the nature of wisdom, the
nature of evil and the objective interpretation of the Bible. The other sisters called us The
Brainy Bunch and made fun of us but we ignored them and kept on asking questions about what
appeared to be insoluble problems. After graduation I really didnt know what to do so I decided
to take a two-week vacation in Miami, Florida. I wanted to swim, get a tan, get plenty of fresh
air, play tennis, and go fishing so I could unwind and replenish my lost physical and mental
energy. Accordingly, I took the first available plane to Miami and within three hours I was
installed in a modest hotel right here in the South Beaches close to Espanola Way. I spent my
first day unpacking, eating, napping and watching TV. However by midnight I was tired of the
stupid TV and decided to take a walk. So, I put my purple bikini on, grabbed my radio and a
bottle of wine and walked all the way to Ocean Beach Park. I found a nice bench, sat down and
drank my wine while contemplating the sky. All of a sudden I saw a bright light in the sky and a
heavenly chariot coming my way. It landed right in front of me. A young man dressed in a white
toga got off and approached me.
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Good morning, miss, he said in a sonorous voice. My name is Elihaj and Im the
forerunner of the Messiah. Hes ready to come in a couple of months but first He wants to know
if the time is right. Maybe you can help us.
I rubbed my eyes and looked at him. He was tall and handsome, had fiery black eyes and
curly black hair. On his feet he had a pair of white sandals. He certainly didnt look like the
precursor of the Messiah to me. I rubbed my eyes again and then said, What kind of a gag is
this, mister?
He sat by my side and then said, This is no joke, miss. I know that this is hard for you to
believe but you must trust me. The Messiah is coming and Im his harbinger. Believe me.
Okay, I said. Tell you what. Ill help you if you help me.
Im at your service. How can I help you? he said in a sonorous voice.
How? See if you can answer some of the philosophical questions that have been
bothering me all my life. What do you say?
He put a smirk on his face and then said, Philosophical questions? Listen, my friend,
Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, Descartes, Hume, Hegel, Marx, and Sartre and the rest of them have all
been asking the same questions for decades and they never found any acceptable answers. Bla,
bla, bla, bla. The more they talked, the more confused the issues got. I tell you what the ultimate
answer is: make sure that you have a good breakfast, a hearty lunch and a succulent dinner plus
a hefty evening snack every day. You see, when a person has his belly full his brain gets lazy and
refuse to wrestle with insoluble questions. Did you ever notice that all of the philosophers of this
world were skinny? Go ahead, look at their pictures and youll see what I mean. Look at
yourself. Why do you think youre so skinny? Your brain is starving for food. Listen to my
advice.
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Eat, eat, eat, have your fill,
Morning, noon and afternoon,
Go ahead use your spoon,
Have it chill, have it grill,
But eat, eat, eat, until stillllll, oh, yeahhh.
Got my drift?
I said, I do, I do. Is just that I never thought it that way. How about Religion? Do you
also have all the answers to the controversial question surrounding the Bible? For instance who
created the Universe?
God did, he said. With a twist of his right hand he created all the known galaxies and
with a twist of his left hand he created Earth.
I said, I guess thats why things are not right in this world. Tell me about the creation of
all living creatures.
A brilliant idea, he said. God created the great creatures of the sea and every living and
moving thing with which the water teems, according to their kinds. And He saw that is was good,
very good.
Except that he never mentioned the creation of bacteria, viruses, fungus, and parasites,
did he?
Just an oversight, he said. What else do you want to know?
The Ark was 450 feet long, 80 feet wide and 50 feet high according to the Bible. But a
male Seismosaurus was 120 feet in length and weighed as much as 100 tons. Can you imagine
the racket he created when he decided to screw a female Seismosaurus?
The Ark probably was much bigger, he said. What else?
The brain of Autralophitecus Afarensis from Hadar Ethiopia, 3.4 million years ago, had
a capacity of 450 cubic centimeters, while the brain of a present day Homo sapiens sapiens has a
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capacity of 1500 cubic centimeters. According to the Bible Adam and Eve could talk
intelligently to God and to each other. In addition, the serpent talked to Eve in a most convincing
and rational manner. Huh?
Just a slip of the tongue, he said. What else?
In The Book of Jeremiah the prophet states that human nature is evil and cannot be
changed. What do you say about that?
When the Messiah comes He will change human nature for the best. Have patience. He
will show up soon. What else?
Is it true that Joshua commanded the sun and the moon to stand still?
That was a gag, just a gag. What else?
Job always complained about the white-collar crooks not being punished while the bluecollar workers got the ax. How come Yahweh allowed this situation?
Because the white-collar people paid more taxes, thats why. Say, are you trying to tell
me that the Bible is bunk? Never mind. I answered your questions to the best of my knowledge
and now is your turn. As I said, Jesus is coming and I want to know if your generation is worth
his coming. Tell me, whats happening here?
I turned my radio on and then told him, Hear for yourself. The morning news blared
on.
Last night in Pensacola, Florida, an irate customer cut a plastic surgeon into ground beef.
Reason: her crows feet were now over her lips.
Francis Bacon, the convicted killer of Rosy OGrady, was finally put to death. The execution, by
lethal injection, took place last night in Houston, Texas. Francis was one hundred years old and
had spent the last eighty-five years in jail.
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Last night in Iowa City, a man walked into Sydneys Cafeteria located on First Avenue and
Palm, had the special of the day, and then used an AK-47 to shoot the cook, the dishwasher and
the microwave oven. Reason: The meat loaf was tough, the knife was dirty and the potato was
cold in the center. The man was apprehended by the police and is now in jail.
Last night in Des Moines, a homeless man armed with a Browning automatic rifle killed three
hundred people in a supermarket. Reason: Patrons wore shoes and kept on stepping on the poor
mans toes. Hes in jail laughing his head off.
A recent report on vitamins published by the American Vitamins Institute claimed that mega
doses of Vitamin C could cure sexual impotence. The only side effect is priapism. Priapism is a
persistent erection of the penis, which may last for a few days. Uh, ah, whatever.
Yesterday noon, in Times Square, a well-known movie actress used a .38 Special revolver
loaded with soft tip bullets to kill six British tourists. Reason: They kept calling her madam.
She is now in jail accused of illegal use of soft tip bullets.
The Federal Cookies and Drugs Administration announced yesterday that cookies made with
more than seventy-two ingredients are hazardous to your health.
Mr. Carl Smokey Sandberg, Vice President of the Pipe and Cigarette Institute, denied yesterday
that their President, J.B. Keller, had died of lung cancer. He claimed that J.B. was caught in a
motel fire and died of smoke inhalation.
Yesterday, in Chicago, a high school dropout by the name of Charlie used a shotgun to kill his
mother, father, two brothers and three sisters. Reason: He heard that in jail he could have free
food, free drinks, free grass, free TV, and free sex for the rest of his life.
There you have it. How do you like it?
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I love it. This situation is better than the one we have in Heaven. Over there is war, war
and more war. Constantly. The good souls against the bad souls. I cant stand it anymore. You
know what? I think that Im going to quit my job and stick around for the next thirty years. Say,
would you like to live with me? I can set up a ministry and we can make a living at the expenses
of all the suckers who think that heaven is a nice place to retire. What do you say, huh?
Of course I would. Right now I have a couple of hundred dollars left and no job. There is
only one thing that troubles me.
Whats that?
Sex. How about sex? I mean, do you like to have sex? After all, youre a heavenly
creature and Im just a mortal soul.
Thats the least thing you have to worry about. You see, Im a heavenly creature from
my head to my waist but a human being from my waist to my toes. Ill show you. And he pulled
his toga up and showed me his erect penis. Wow! It was seven inches long and two inches thick.
Lets try it now, I said, all excited. .
Okay. Do as I tell you. Take your bikini off. Like that. Now kiss me from my toes to my
stick. Like that. Now sit on my stick and pretend youre driving chariot. Put it on reverse. Like
that. Now put it on drive. Like that. Reverse, drive; reverse, drive; reverse, drive; reverse, drive;
reverse, drive. Wow, wow, wow, Im coming to the end of my trip. Holy coooooow! How about
you?
Me toooooooooooooooooohhh!
And our covenant was sealed. We live happily after that. End of the story. Well, what do
you have to say, Mr. Bravo?
Amazing story, Helen. But how do you explain Elijah and the chariot?
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Easy. Elijah told me that I had a vision just like Amos, Hosea, Isaiah, Zephaniah,
Nahum and Habakkuk. He said that probably my colorful bikini attracted His attention and thats
why He chose me. A random celestial pick.
Ill buy that, I said. And what advice can you give to your sisters?
Listen sisters,
1. Never choose Philosophy as your major.
2. Eat a good breakfast, a hearty lunch, a succulent dinner and a hefty snack every day
and forget about dieting.
3. Dont wait for the Messiah in your lifetime.
4. The Bible is full of holes so dont believe every word in it.
5. Sex with an alien is better than sex with a native.
She paused and then said, Did you get all that?
Every word of it, I said, holding up my recorder. You can have a copy of the
directory by next summer. Just call your friendly campus bookstore.
Thanks, she said. And left.
I put my recorder in my pocket and walked to the nearest street vendor. I ordered
a dozen brain fritters and a couple of beers. The order came right away and I ate it stat,
burped like a priest and went home. Got in, undressed, put my red swimming trunk on
and sat in my balcony facing the ocean. Okay, Messiah, I yelled, send me a chariot
with a horny female messenger in it. Im prophet Bravo. Make my night. After one hour
of waiting, I shook my head and screamed to the wind, Never mind, Ill get my own
horny
bitch.
And
hit
the
sack.
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Day 15
The climax of this concoction or Is Anatomy of the human body pretty?
The next afternoon the persistent ringing of my telephone awakened me. I got up, walked
over the damn thing and barked, Who the hell is this?
Its me, Ashi. Can you come over to my apartment right away? Tell you why. Ira is back
and on his way here. He said that he wants to talk to you concerning Dr Strattons disappearance.
Can you make it?
I sure can, doll. Be right over.
Good. Well be waiting for you. Bye.
Bye, doll. And I put the phone back in its cradle, got dressed up in a hurry, and ran out
of my home. To bust or be busted. Whatever.
Down in Lummus Park two naked guys having oral sex right there in the middle of the
street, and two naked women were squeezing each others tits. So what? In this country
everybody is entitled to express himself/herself.
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I whistled a cab and within thirty minutes was in front of Ashis apartment. Right away, I
noticed Karens red convertible parked in front of the building. What in hell is she doing here?
I said out loud.
Are you speaking to me, buddy? Are you speaking to me? the taxi driver asked me,
with fire in his eyes.
Im talking to myself, buddy, I told him, handing him a twenty. Keep the change.
This town is full of weirdoes, he said, taking the bill. Get out of my cab!
I did and he sped away, yelling, Freak you, freak you, freak you!
I climbed the stairs to the second floor, apartment 201, and knocked at the door.
Its open, Bravo, come on in, Ashis voice said.
I pushed the door and got in.
Throw your gun on the couch, or Ill make a hole in her head! Iras voice said.
I lifted my eyebrows and surveyed the situation. It looked like a family dinner except that
there was no food or drinks on the dining room table. There was Ashi, sitting on the left end of
the table, dressed up in a white combat suit, barefooted, and holding a shiny samurai sword in
her right arm. Her face had no expression whatsoever. Sitting to her left there was Douglas and
next to him, Karen. He was wearing a gray flannel suit and she was wearing a one-piece canary
yellow dress. They both had a bewildered look on their faces. Standing by Karen was Ira,
dressed up in his favorite brown suit, a fierce look on his face and a .38 revolver in his right
hand. The barrel of the gun was pointing directly to Karens head. I let my eyebrows down.
Do as he said, Bravo, Karen said with anxiety in her voice. This guy is crazy.
I know hes nuts, I said, dropping my gun on the couch. I can tell by the way his eyes
shine.
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Shut up, Ira told me. Now come over here and sit right in front of this goddamn
government bitch. Move!
Sure, sure, Ira, I said sarcastically. I never contradict a crazy man with a gun in his
hand. And I walked over the table and sat in front of the bitch. Whatre you guys doing here?
I asked her.
Karen opened her mouth and said, The Agency
Shut up, you bitch! Ira screamed, and hit her on top of her head with the barrel of the
gun. She bit her lips and said nothing.
Thats better, Ira said, showing his teeth. Now, Mr. Bravo, lets put things into
perspective. You tricked my secretary into telling you where Dr Stratton was and then managed
to steal an invitation to our annual masquerade party from her desk. After you got inside the Club
you dropped some water pills into my guests drinks to create a pandemonium to flush Dr
Stratton out of his room. Once you got a hold of him, you finally found out where the data book
was. Yes, I do have it. And there is nothing you or anybody can do about that. Its my property
now. So
I cut him off. So you came into Dr Strattons room, knocked me out and then sneaked
him out of his room. Where is Dr Stratton, Ira? Is he still alive or what?
Ha, ha, ha. Youre wrong. It was Ashi who knocked you out and then the two of us
drove Dr Strattons body to Julia Tuttle Causeway and dumped him in Biscayne Bay. Why?
Because the old fool could have finger me, you know. Case closed.
And whatre you going to do with the data book, Ira? I said. Sell it to the highest
bidder? Is money what youve been after all this time, you greedy bastard! Dont you care how
many people will get kill?
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He looked down on me. Of course Im greedy; of course I want money, and of course
Im going to sell the data book to the highest bidder. Im tired of living with my meager salary.
How about you? Im sure that you wanted to get the data book to peddle it to the CIA. And those
twoand he pointed to Douglas and Karenthe same. They wanted the data book to get
promoted and get more money. Thats why as soon as I called Douglas and told him that I had
the data book and that I had decided to turn it over to the proper authority, he and his snooping
girl friend dashed over here not knowing my real intentions. I fooled them too, didnt I? Ha, ha,
ha. You had to see the expression on their faces when Ashi greeted them with her samurai sword.
Fools! And did you say that people are going to get kill? How about my son? His tour of duty in
Iraq was extended and then he was blown away. My only son. So young and full of life. Damn
you all!
Revenge has made you crazy, Ira, Douglas said. Youd better turn the data book to us.
Thats government property.
Ira exploded. Crazy? You call me crazy, stupid jerk? Your reaction is exactly what I
expected from a government puppet like you. Anyone who disagrees with the government is
crazy. What about them? Who judges the judges? Sydney Roderick was right when he branded
the federal government a disguised dictatorship. They can do anything they want, from raising
taxes every year to waging political wars in the name of democracy. Damn them all!
You should see a psychiatrist, Ira, Karen told him.
Iras face turned red with anger. Shut your freaking mouth up, you stupid bitch or Im
going to blow your head off. Shut up!
Karen shook her red mane and shut the freaking mouth up.
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Ira continued his diatribe. Whats a father to do? How can I get even with the federal
government? Ashi gave me the answer. Lets bomb the hell out of them she told me. You see,
Ashis parents died of radiation poisoning, so she also has a gripe against the federal
government. We decided to build an implosion-type atomic bomb in our physics department.
And we did. He paused, looked at me, smiled, and then said, Mr. Bravo, you call yourself a
college graduate private investigator. Okay. Tell your friends here what an implosion-type
atomic bomb is. Go ahead; show us your scientific knowledge. Hahahahahahaahah!
My pleasure, Ira, I said, matter of fact. An implosion-type atomic bomb consists of
two hollow spheres, one inside the other. The inner sphere contains fissionable material, like
Plutonium 239, while the outer sphere is made of conventional explosives. Both spheres are
surrounded by a detonation wiring system that can be set off by an electronic signal, pretty much
like the signal we use to turn on a TV set. The explosion of the outer sphere squeezes the inner
sphere to what is known as the critical mass of Plutonium 239 causing the device to explode.
Everything within thirty miles will be incinerated. The only problem is how to get the Plutonium.
Of course, there are people here in Miami who can get you Plutonium, Uranium, and even rocks
from Mars for the right price. Am I on target, Ira?
He blushed, and then said, Those are only generalities known to any Physics college
student. Anyway, two days ago we completed the bomb, put it inside of a heavy-duty garbage
bag and last night I dropped it in front of the FBI Building in North Miami Beach. Here--and he
tapped his breast pocket-- I have a remote control with a range of one hundred miles. When I
pushed the red button, the device inside the garbage bag will explode. Well hear the explosion
from here. Music to my ears. Good-bye Miami Beach and surrounding areas. Ha, ha, ha, ha!
Youre completely deranged, Ira, Douglas said.
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Ira pointed his gun at Douglas head. Shut up, you idiot. If you call me crazy one more
time Im going to kill you right here and now. So, shut up! Douglas glared at him but said
nothing further. Ira smiled, satisfied, and moved the gun back to its previous position.
I looked at him and said, Tell me one thing, Ira, just for curiosity, where is the data
book?
He put a smirk on his face. The data book is in, hahahahahahahaha, inside Ashis
Buddha, yes, hahahahahah, in his, hahahahahah, belly, hahahahahahaha. I put it there after Dr.
Stratton gave it to me. It has been there all the time.
You know, Ira, I said, only crazy people laugh like that. Youre really insane.
Iras face became congested with rage. Who are you calling crazy, you stupid clown,
he screamed.
I put a smirk on my face, tapped the floor with my shoes and sang,
Ira is mad,
Ira is crazy,
Ira is ugly,
Ira is bad,
Wants revenge,
Wants my ass,
Well, come and get it,
Crazy cad
He trembled with rage and shrieked, Ashi, cut his tongue out!
Ashi sprang to his bare feet, twirled her sword over her head and performed a double
somersault, while screaming, Ahiiiiii, ahoooooooo, aheeeeeee, ahuuuuuuuuu! Her slender
body landed on top of the table, right in front of me. I knew she meant business, so I used my
knees and my right hand to overturn the table. Action and reaction right? You bet. Ashi lost her
equilibrium, dropped the sword and fell off the table while Douglas, Karen and Ira stumbled
backwards. I rushed Ira, kicked him on his head, took the gun away from his hand and turned
321
around to kill Ashi, but I was a bit too late. She had already recovered her sword and her
equilibrium and was flying in my direction.
Ahiiiitooooo! Ayaitoooo! she screamed and hit me on my chest with her two feet. I
staggered back, dropped the gun and fell on my knees. She gave me another sharp kick on my
stomach and I fell down on my back. I tried to get up, but Ashi came around, put her right foot
on my chest, pushed me back down, and said in a flat tone of voice, Hara-kiri is a noble way to
die, Bravo. I promise you that you wont feel a thing, not a thing. Sayonara! And she lifted the
heavy sword ready to deliver the fatal blow. As soon as I saw the sword moving up, I used my
left leg to deliver five consecutive kicks to her first cervical vertebra, or Atlas. Naturally the poor
bone had no choice but to break into small pieces. And naturally, Ashi reacted in the most
natural way, that is, she dropped the sword and put his right hand over her nape. I took advantage
of her position, and gave her another kick on her lower back, where the sacrum bone is located.
She moaned in pain.
I grabbed her head with my two hands and pushed her away from me. She fell on her
assito, face up, and moaned in pain.
I got up, ran over to where her broken body was and told her, I just broke both your
cervical bones and your back bone, so you will be able to hear but you wont be able to move,
you wakarimusi?
She moaned in pain.
I leaped over her body, grabbed the samurai sword and came back to her side.
She moaned in pain.
I put my right foot on her chest and told her, The proper study of the abdomen is done
by the so-called quadrant method. In this method, the abdomen is divided in four quadrants: the
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Ramiro Dieguez
L.L.Q. or Left Lower Quadrant, the L.U.Q. or Left Upper Quadrant, the R.U.Q. or Right Upper
Quadrant and the R.L.Q. or Right Lower Quadrant. You got that?
She moaned in pain.
Im glad you did, I said. Now get this! And I pushed the shiny point of the samurai
sword into her L.L.Q.
She moaned in pain.
I said, In the L.L.Q. well find a piece of the kidney, a section of the descending colon,
the left kidney, the left ovary and the left ovarian tube. I paused for a second, and then pushed
the sword up, toward the L.U.Q.
Her body trembled and she moaned in pain.
I continued my explanation. In the L.U.Q. well find a portion of the liver, the stomach,
the spleen, the tail of the pancreas, and portions of the transverse colon. A belly full of things, so
to speak.
She tried to move but couldnt.
Take it easy; take it easy, will you? I said, while moving the sword toward the R.U.Q.
She moaned in pain.
I continued my anatomical lecture. In the R.U.Q. well find the liver, portions of the
ascending and transverse colon, the gallbladder, the head of the pancreas, and a piece of the right
kidney. Isnt that interesting?
She moaned in pain.
Im glad you concurred, I said, while pushing the sword down, toward the R.L.Q.
Her legs kicked the floor for a second in an involuntary reflex.
323
I continued my monologue. In the R.L.Q. well find the appendix, the ascending colon,
a portion of the right kidney and, Ashi? Ashi? Ashi? She didnt answer me, so I felt her pulse.
Yeap, she was in nirvana okay.
Is she dead? Karens voice said.
I turned around and saw Karen and Douglas on their feet, and looking in awe over the
happening.
She should be, I said. Her guts are all gone.
You make me sick, Karen said. Youre as bad as
You killed her, you bastard, Iras voice interrupted her.
We all looked over and saw Ira standing by the fallen table. He was holding up the
remote control device in his left hand, and had a strange look on his face. You killed her, he
repeated. Damn you, all of you. But I still get my revenge, hahahahaahahaha! And he used his
right thumb to press the red button.
We didnt hear any explosion.
He pressed the button again.
Nothing.
He pressed the button again and again.
Nada. Zip.
He looked out of the window. What the hell? he said in a bewildered voice.
Karen said,Hahahahahaahahahaha!
Douglas said,Hahahahahahahahahh
Ira said, Whats happening? Why the bomb didnt go off? Why are you laughing?
Answer me!
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Ramiro Dieguez
Douglas answered him. Were laughing at you, genius. Didnt you know that Leo
Gonzalez was and is a CIA undercover agent? When you bought the Plutonium from him, he
immediately notified my uncle. The Agency keeps an eye on people who work with radioactive
material, you know. When Dr. Stratton disappeared, your name surfaced again and I paid a visit
to you and your girl friend Ashi. She was very cooperative and friendly, while you were
extremely rude and threw me out of your office. A sociopath, that was my impression, I told
my uncle. And he immediately put you in the list of bitter citizens. When you went back to
Leos shop and purchased a large amount of explosives and a remote control firing unit, Leo
became very suspicious and inactivated the remote control firing unit. Thats why nothing
happened when you pressed the red button. We were going to arrest you today, but when you
called and told us that you had the data book, we decided to take a chance on you. After all, you
do look like a candy ass. But looks are deceiving and we got here you put us under arrest, how
do you like that? Now it has become apparent that youre deranged and out of your freaking
mind. But dont you worry; we are going to put you in a safe, comfortable place--for good. How
does that sound, genius? Hahahaha!
Ira looked at the remote control, looked at me, looked at Ashis disembowel body,
opened his eyes in disbelief and suddenly and unexpectedly, darted toward the living room
couch.
Watch out, Bravo! Douglas yelled. Hes after your gun!
I bent over Ashis body, pulled the bloody samurai sword out of her bloody guts and
without even looking, hurled the bloody blade at Iras back. Swoooooosh! The bloody blade
went right through his lungs like a carving knife through hot margarine. He stopped on his
325
tracks, took two steps to his right, two steps to his left and then dropped to the floor. His body
twitched four times and then stopped moving.
Is he dead? Karen asked.
Yap, I said. Its all over. You guys take care of these two crazies. Case closed.
Yes, you can say that again, buster, Karen screamed. Its closed for you. You can get
the hell out of here. Well take care of the notebook. That notebook is government property.
Get!
Okay, okay, I said. Just let me get my gun, willya?
I dug into the couch, and got my gun out. Oh, well, as far as Im concerned this caper is
over. Everybody is dead except Tatiana who is in a coma.
Tatiana is dead too, Douglas said. Last night. She never recovered consciousness.
Poor thing.
Ill be damned! How do you like that? I said casually. As I was saying, everybody
involved in this caper is dead. Good. Now Im going home, take a shower, record the whole
story and then sell it to the highest tabloid bidder. I must say that the whole damn affair was
interesting, exciting, and thrilling. Adios, suckers.
Wait a moment, buster, wait a moment, Karen said all fired up. Not so fast. This is the
scoop of the century and I want it. You said that your price was a million dollars, tax-free? Well,
you got it. I want you to go home, record all the events of this caper from the beginning to the
end, and then give me a call. Ill be right over your place with your money. I want to know the
whole story including every single dirty detail. You got that?
Got it, Mac, I said with a smile on my face. Youll get the whole sordid affair in its
most revealing details, I promise you.
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Ramiro Dieguez
Now youre talking, she said. Okay, now you can go on your way.
So long, Bravo, and thank you, Douglas said.
I shrugged, cleared my throat, pulled up a gigantic wad of foamy saliva, dropped it right
in front of Karen and took off. She yelled something at me but I was already out of the range of
her lungs. I hailed a cabby and half an hour later I was strolling through Lummus Park. There
was a lot of noise around on account that some independent producer was shooting a cop-androbber movie. Wow! Plenty of screams, shouts, fake smoke, and above all, plenty of gunfire.
Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang! I laughed my head off, and continued walking toward my
castle. A homeless woman bumped into me and I said, Excuse me, my fair lady.
She turned around, a smile on her toothless mouth and a .22 caliber pistol in her dirty
right hand. Freeze! Dont make a move. Im here to collect. Im Karina, the mother of Soraya.
You killed her, her fianc Sadam, my nephew Mohammad and all of his cousins. My whole
family. Now is your turn to die. She cocked the piece and aimed it at my heart. Good-bye,
infidel!
I quickly moved my right foot over her bare left foot and stepped on it. She said, Ouch!
and looked down as she squeezed the trigger. The bullet went right through her left foot, and she
instinctively lifted her left leg. I took advantage of her position and wrestled the pistol away from
her shaking hand.
She straightened her squalid body up, looked at me in the eye and said, Youre not
going to shoot a poor defenseless old woman, are you?
I smiled and said, Why not? And pumped two bullets inside her sagging breast. She
closed her eyes and joined her family in Hell.
327
A policeman passed by, looked at the fallen body and said, Hey, buddy, whats the name
of that movie?
I scratched my balls and said, From Iran with hate.
He gave me the victory sign and kept on walking. I dropped the gun over her body,
turned around and walked to my hideout, whistling a joyous tune.
As soon as I got inside my dear home, the phone started ringing. I picked the damn thing
up. Bravo here, I yelled.
Its me, Lee KY. Listen and dont interrupt me. I dont have too much time left. From
one private eye to another I want to tell you the rest of the story. Here it goes. After you told me
about the thirty millions I called Emma and told her that I had found out from you that Dr
Stratton had choked with as piece of meat and had died and that you had decided to quit your
search for a virgin. She was ecstatic and told me to come to her house immediately to celebrate
the happy event. I did and found Emma, Dr. Clark, Benny and Bonita drinking wine and singing
to the top of their lungs. They all embraced me, congratulated me and invited me to join them in
the celebration. I had a glass of wine and then politely asked Benny what he was going to do
with the thirty million dollars. Right away Emma cut off our conversation and told me that the
inheritance was only five millions. I bluntly told her that I knew from you that it was thirty
millions, to show me the will, but she refused. We started arguing and shouting at each other
until she slapped me on my face and called me a yellow-belly fool. I slapped her back and called
her a lesbian and a crook. Dr. Clark, her lover, got in the act and hit me on the back of my head
with a bottle of wine. I fell down but bounced back up and let the doctor have a piece of my right
leg on her left temple. She fell down and lay dead. Emma stated crying, ran over where her
briefcase was, opened it up, pulled a gun out and before I could do anything, she shot me twice
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Ramiro Dieguez
in the stomach. I did a triple somersault, landed in front of her distorted face, wrestled the gun
away from her trembling hand and shot her twice on her freaking head. Her dead body fell down
and she joined her lover in paradise. I faced Benny and Bonita and asked them why Emma didnt
want to share the money with me. Benny told me that Emma owed 15 million to the IRS in back
taxes, and that Dr. Clark had been indicted for double billing the Medicare program and that the
two of them had planned to leave this country and go to Costa Rica. Then I asked Benny what
was his participation on the scam. He started crying and told me that it was all Bonitas fault
because she was also a lesbian and wanted to go away with Emma and Dr. Clark. Bonita slapped
his face and told him that it was his fault because he was hooked up in drugs and had squandered
away all the money he had received from the TV suckers. By this time the two holes in my
stomach were getting bigger and I was getting weaker. The gun slipped from my hand and both
Benny and Bonita jumped on me. I used my left hand to give Benny a karate chop on his fat neck
and used my right leg to give Bonita a kick on her fat neck. They both died immediately. The
thirty million dollars will probably go to the US Government, as usual. End of the story. Now, I
feel nothing, I see nothing, Im dead. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Adios, nin com poop, I said, hanging up the phone. I went to the kitchen, took the IOU
out of the freezer, looked at it and said out loud, I lost you, babe, but I got me another babe as
pretty as you. Watch me. Then I ripped the million-dollar babe up, and put the pieces inside the
trashcan. After that I undressed, got into the bathroom, took a loooooong hot shower, put on a
clean set of underwear, grabbed five six-pack of beer, got my tape recorder out, turned it on, sat
comfortably in the kitchen table and yelled, Hey, Mac, here is the whole ball of wax just as you
requested it. Pay attention now. And I rattled the whole sordid affair from the first offensive
description to the last gruesome detail. I talked and I drank and I drank and I pissed. By dawn I
329
was done with the story and with the beer. I burped like a drunk, smiled, clicked the recorder off,
and just sat there, thinking about the whole sordid affair. One thing was for sure: I was alive and
ready to barter my tape recorder for a million dollars. I knew that Karen would go along in order
to get the scoop. I pissed on the floor and lay back on the table. I was the same as dead. Well,
not quite. About five minutes later, a big bang woke me up. I got up and saw the Old Devil
standing in the center of the room. He was as sinister as before, all dirty and smelly. He pointed a
long and smoky finger at me.
Well, Mr. Bravo. Im here to collect. You were assigned to find a virgin and you have
not found one. You may be wondering why you couldnt find one. Let me explain something to
you. The original legend about Saint Ursula read XIMV virgins, which was interpreted by the
morons of that age as meaning undecim millia virginum or 11,000 virgins. But I knew better.
You see, the inscription XIMV really meant undecim martyres virgines or 11 Martyr Virgin.
Only 11! There have never been 11,000 virgins then or now. Look around. The south beach is
packed with girls looking for sex. Its all drugs, booze and fuck, fuck and fuck. And is the same
all over the world. Thats why today there are no virgins left. Get it? No virgins left! But maybe
you can get one in the Internet. Hahahahahah. Now its time to surrender your soul to me. Are
you ready?
At that precise moment the phone rang. I walked over the phone stand, picked the damn
thing up and then yelled, Yeah?
A-a-a-are you a ma-ma-man? a clear and crispy voice said.
From head to toe, sister. What can I do for you? I snapped.
So-so-sorry, for ca-ca-ca-calling this la-la-late, but-but-but Im so frusfrustrated!
My na-na-na-name is Sh-Sh-Sheila from Green-green-vi-vi-lle, O-O-O-Ohio. Im twenty-one
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Ramiro Dieguez
and nenenever been kissed. Nobody pays attentention totome. I am not pre
prety but I ha-ha-have plenty of mo-mo-mo-money to spe-spen-spend and yet me-me-men
simply ig-ig-ig-nore me. No-no-no-bo-bo-body wants to go to be-be-be-bed with me. I wana-na
be-be-lo-lo-loved. I me-me-me-mean seeeeeexxxxx! I have a fifire between my lele
legs! Help me ple-ple-please!
I put a smirk on my face and said, Su-su-sure thing Sh-Sh-Sh-Sheila. All you have to do
is fl-fl-fly to Miami International Air-po-po-port ne-ne-next Su-Su-Sunday night and meet me
there. Ga-ga-te 16. Wear a red hahahat. Bring me some cacacash, like a gragra
grand. Ill give you all the seseeeexxxx you can hanhanhandle. Only one thing-when you
rerereach the climax, do-do- me-me a favor: keep your mouth shushushuuuut! Se-sesee yo-yo-you! I hung up, laughed my head off for about two minutes and then told the Old
Devil, Did you hear that? A virgin! Finally I found a virgin. A stammering ugly virgin but
nevertheless a virgin. Hey, Old Devil let my soul alone and go back to Hell!
He jumped up and down, let a stream of fire thru his nostrils and then screamed, God
damn! I failed to look into the stammering bunch. Okay, you win this time, but remember:
youre still under contract. Ill be seeing you. And he disappeared.
I gave him the finger and jumped into my bed. I fell asleep pronto.
So, there you have it. A solid comedy mystery script. I hope you enjoy it. Adios
331

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