70 Dyin Read directs the Military

Dyin Read directs the Military

 

“Good morning, you’re listening to the Dyin Read show.  Today we have a very special

guest, a two time President of the United States in two different centuries, the first

known time traveler, the face of the Finn [Also.Known.By.Some.Folks. as the five dollar

bill y’all], perhaps the easiest recognizable ‘Merican’ icon, and all around nice guy,

gAberaham sLinkcolin. It’s good to have you with us Mr. President.”

 

&&drawing of dyin and gaberaham in the studio  Dyin is of asian descent&&

 

“Thank You Dyin, what a warm welcome!  It is truly a pleasure to be here.”, replies

gAberaham sLinkcolin.

 

“You are about to begin your second term as president in the 21st century.”, says Dyin

Read.

 

“Yes, I am looking forward to it.”, responds gAberaham sLinkcolin.

 

“But what about its legality?  Does that bother you?”, asks Dyin Read.

 

“Yes and no.  I am concerned that ‘We The People’ suspended the 22nd

amendment in the case of the time traveling president; but that is

the lawyer, average citizen and politician in me voicing opinion.  As

a POTUS and member of the inner party however…”, says gAberaham sLinkcolin

solemnly.

 

“The Inner Party Mr. President?! You are aware of that phrase’s

Bushwellian implications I do hope?  Have you even heard of Gorge Bushwell’s

dystopian novel ‘2004′?  It is a work of fiction both after and before your time.”,

interrupts Dyin Read. <<with obvious concern in her voice>>

 

“Yes, Yes Dyin.  I am quite aware of this novel, that was a joke.”,

replies gAberaham sLinkcolin. <<chuckling as he does.  Its as if he

were answering a child’s curiosity>>

 

“I am from the time before telly-visions and inter-nets so I do read a book or two in my

leisure.  There is quite a body of work devoted to society and government, and the

philosophy of the human condition that has been written in the last hundred and fifty

years. I am reading ‘The Power of Cow’ right now in my spare time. No pun intended,

Dyin.”, says gAberaham sLinkcolin

 

“Ofcourse, But…..”, starts Dyin Read.

 

“I know, I know; I am sidestepping your query.  I do have my qualms

about taking two additional terms as president, but when one’s party

is in such a dreadful state so as to resort to time traveling and

abducting a past president just to secure a decent candidate tocompete in an

election…….Well, lets just say I’ve taken stock of his country and am doing what I hope is

best for ‘Merica’. I have a bit of experience dealing with a sharply divided ‘Merican’

public and I offer an outsider’s perspective on the state of modern world affairs.  So I feel

that these two additional terms, however unprecedented and frowned upon by the

founding fathers and a modern minority, are acceptable collateral damage to the

Constitution.”, says gAberaham sLinkcolin.

 

“Well some would disagree, but that is a very acceptable, well reasoned response.  Thank

you for your candid answer.  I can definitely see you’ve become familiar with Tronald

Dump’s style of logic, Mr. President.”, says Dyin Read.

 

“Ha, ha, hee…mmm, well yes Dyin, we did spend some time together during my first,

ahhh hem pardon, my third term.  Please, call me gAberaham.”, says the President.

 

“Ofcourse, gAberaham.  I know just about all our listeners are familiar with your life,

your history; but lets discuss some of the high points.”, says Dyin.

 

“Okay. What would you like to know?”, asks gAberaham.

&&image of lincoln and read fade into hop and finnegan&&

 

<<Let’s see what the heroes are up to…..shall we?>>

 

<<Formerly Future Finnegan and Hopskotch are lowered down from Anansi’s

web.  the two of you are stunned into silence by the normalcy of Oklahellmouth

City>>  

 

“There are no holes in the buildings and the skyscrapers still scrape

the sky.  Yes, I know 2008 is awe inspiring.”, Anansi the spider says.

 

“I can’t believe my eyes, its been so long…”, says Hopskotch.  

 

<<impatient and late as the white rabbit, Anansi prepares to leave the two of you>>

 

“Well if you two don’t get to work, the city doesn’t stay this nice for long.”, instructs

Anansi.  <<and then he unthreads the fabric of time and crawls back into the

backstage of the universe>>  

 

“Well, that was an abrupt farewell….”, you say.  

 

”He’s right, we don’t have time to sightsee Finnegan, let’s get to

the studio.”, declares Hopskotch.  

 

<<he Cook and the Dishwasher, formerly from the future, walk down the

sidewalk of the past…with a purpose.  we now return to our regularly scheduled

program already in progress.>>

 

“Absolutely enthralling the way you tell it Mr. sLinkcolin. Your listen-ing to the Dyin Read

Show.  Short break….right back”, says Dyin Read.  <<her voice crackling with a coy

spark of intelligence>>

 

<<A radio announcer (think of a vanilla/white bread man with a pleasant,

unthreatening voice.) announces,>>  “The Normal Towne Arts Association is having a

bake sale this Thursgay evening with a free screening of the film, The Killer Next Door at

8pm at the Havel Dids And Knots building on campus.   This benefit is for the rebuilding

of the Old Science Laboratory that was burnt down during Kappa Alpha Foxtrot pledge

week last semester.  In an effort to stifle small business growth and further contaminate

local groundwater, the city council is voting on whether or not to allow the building of a

strip mall for big box chain stores to take place in the Lemon Fancy WildLife Preserve in

east Normal Towne.  The vote takes place in city hall this Tuesday night at 5pm.  For a

more complete listing of events in the community please visit http://www.theknd.com or call

(405) 325-3388 for more details.”  <<the show goes on>>  

 

“Welcome back.  If you are just joining us, we have President gAberaham sLinkcolin with

us today.  He is talking about his life, his presidency and his new book entitled, ‘Since my

Death’.  What can you tell our listeners about the night of your assassination?  You

discuss it briefly in your memoir.”, begins Dyin Read.

 

“Well the funniest thing happened on the way to the theatre..”, begins the time traveling

president.

 

“I hate to interrupt you mister president, but we have a couple insistant guests who just

joined us in the studio.  They have a couple of other more immediate questions for

you…so they claim.”, says Dyin Read.  

 

<<her voice betrays the gravity of what is most often referred to as a

hostage situation>>

 

“Pardon the interruption, mister President, but my friend Hopskotch Sunday and I have

traveled for quite a period of time to meet you and convince you to abstain from turning

‘Merica’s influx of illegal immigrant children into ‘Merican’ soldiers.  The consequences

are bad news bears not only for ‘Merica’ but the entire human civilization will be

extremely negative.’’, you say into the studio microphone.  

 

<<this microphone/headphone set was graciously supplied to you buy the

studio employee you threatened with your favorite ax.  Dyin Read, a true master of

her trade goes from alerting the authorities on her MyPhone to actively engaging

you and the president in what will definitely be a rating topping hour of the Dyin

Read show.  Real ‘Merican’ Public Radio personalities do not balk in the face of

terrorists bearing medieval arms.   Hopskotch Sunday accepts a pair of headphones

with microphone of his own from the now cordial studio employee, Lennon his

name turns out to be, and a chair on wheels with which to sit and join in on the

conversation already in progress>>

 

“Yes, please share with us, if you would, your reasoning behind the decision to draft all

underage illegal immigrants into the ‘Merican military.’’, says Dyin Read.  <<leading the

‘Merican’ president back into discussion of the most pressing political policy of the

day.>>  

 

“Why yes of course  Dyin.  I wanted to express my acknowledgement of the ‘Merican’

people’s sympathies for the poor children who will inevitably be sent off to wars.  But as

your listeners are well aware, these children have been sent to this country illegally to

seek asylum.  They are coming from impoverished conditions and seek a better life.  I

propose we stop sending them back out into the cold dark night and live up to our

country’s promise to take in the worlds hungry and desolate.  Back when I was president

the first time in the 19th century, we expected our country to admit those in need, and

we expected those in need to contribute to our country.  By admitting the children of the

world and feeding, sheltering and more importantly educating these children here in the

21st century, we can give them a chance at a better future than they ever would have

outside of our country’s borders…..and in return they will defend and expand those

borders that they have come to love and to call home.”, says gAberaham sLinkcolin with

his characteristic eloquence.

 

“Well that is indeed interesting if not inventive foreign policy,

mister president.  Wouldn’t you agree, <<uncomfortable pause>>,  

I’m sorry, what were your names again?”, says Dyin Read.

 

<<you and Hopskotch Sunday look at each-other and shrug>>

 

“My name is Finnegan and this is my associate Mr. Sunday.”, you say.  

 

“Howdy Partners!”, Hopskotch Sunday says.  <<Hopskotch speaks into his microphone

with more joviality than you expected in this situation.  Hopskotch smiles back at

you and rubs his shaved head>>

 

“Errr…yes.  It is inventive foreign policy, but what I’m…”, you say.

 

“And military enlistment is at an all time low.  The ‘Merican’ people

don’t seem to have to stomach for service these days.”, Dyin Read

interjects.

 

“Oh from what I’ve seen the ‘Merican’ public has quite a bit of stomach, but I don’t think

it is full of bravery and call to arms.  If you know what I mean.”, jokes Hopskotch Sunday.     

 

“Ha, Ha, Ha!!  Yes, many are full of slothfulness and a call to chicken legs.”, gAberaham

sLinkcolin continues.

 

<<Hopskotch laughs with gAberaham and then realizes the President may have just

snuck in a racist joke in an attempt to mock him.  Hopskotch Sunday scowls at

gAberaham sLinkcolin>>

 

“Wow, you two need your own comedy show.  Back to the point, ‘Merican’ Military

expansion will become gargantuan if you start using the illegal immigrant children of

today as tomorrow’s soldiers.”, you say.

 

“There are lots of folks who feel that way, Miss Finnegan, but…”, starts President

slinkcolin.

 

“In the year 4325 there are millions of folks who feel that way, and its Mrs. L’Argent du

Sang”, you interrupt.

 

<<both Dyin and gAberaham pause in mid-action with their mouths open and look

at one another and then at Finnegan and then at Hopskotch.  everyone realizes

what game they are playing at and they are now all reading from the same page>>

 

“Oh.  It’s you, is it?  Tronald warned me about you.  You’re the you from

after…after the show; shall we say?”,  says gAberaham sLinkcolin.

 

“Yes it is me…”, you say.  <<you respond flatly, making sure of the location of your ax

without breaking eye contact with the President>>   

 

“I am also happy to be here.  In this time.  Alive.  Ready to leave this studio after we give

you that message.  Us.  Finnegan and I leaving here in a sec.  Thanks ‘Merica’.  Thanks

Dyin Read.  President sLinkcolin, you tell your tale.  I imagine it is as tangled as a ball of

Betsy Ross’s yarn.”, says Hopskotch.

 

“Ha ha ha ha ha…”, laugh both Dyin Read and gAberaham sLinkcolin.

 

“Yes, sorry buddy.  It is Hopskotch Sunday and I; come back to the

past to warn you to quit ruining the future.”, you say.

 

<<gAberaham sLinkcolin and Dyin Read give each-other calculating glances and

sLinkcolin nods to her and takes the lead.  he sits back and crosses his long legs and

composes his long arms>>  

 

“Exactly right Finnegan.  You and Hopskotch have come to the past to correct

the future.  Military expansion as vast as you have indirectly outlined is

destined to be seen as hostile by the rest of the world.  And the only way to

keep other countries in line is to put ‘Merica’ in control of them.   Instead of

fixing the problems that lead to the illegal immigration, we seek the past of

least resistance.  Normally we force the immigrants back into the impossible

situations they fought to escape from, or we just imprison them indefinitely.  

But now you want to try another way to avoid addressing the cause of the

undesired immigration explosion?  This is folly.  It is the same old tale of instant

gratification jumping ahead of common sense at the grocery store.  Let us get the pay off

now, be damned the consequences tomorrow.”, says gAberaham sLinkcolin.  

 

“Is that some old white guy life time achievement goal, to fuck up the world for the next

generation?  

 

“It would seem that way from what I have put together from information that I learned

from that little glowing box.  <<computer>>  Let us learn from our country’s past

mistakes and create a better future, for the whole world. ”, says gAberaham sLinkcolin.  

 

<<Dyin Read raises her hands and points to Dori Anisman, who answers the

phones>>

 

“There is some guy named after a sandwich on the phone and he is asking Finnegan if

she wants to go get a hamburger.”, says Dyin Read.

 

<<with all the finesse of an axe on One’s front door life changes.  moving on and

making sense of what seem to be the most absurd things.  opening our eyes and

paying attention to what is going on right now.  what does it have to do with the

price of tea in China?  it makes sense if you think about it.  Goodnight Finnegan>>

 

 

Advertisements

69 Letters to Shilo

 

Letters to Shilo

From Unkle Bill W BobChange

 

Dear Shilo,

 

Lord Kombucha, save me from this pain.  The world is falling into itself.  The

Oklahellmouth has opened up.  A giant arachnid with the head of Hikaru Sulu came

running by with a 15.24 meters tall pigeon right on Sulu’s hind legs.  after the last liquor

store on earth fell into the Oklahellmouth, the only solace I could find was listening to

“Havel Doug” play that old No-Sho Jones song, “Hello Friend”

 

Before I die Shilo, I want to sing to you that song.

 

Hello friend,

it’s good to see you again.  

It’s been so long and

that’s too damn sad,

I know.  For sure.  

I know you’ve worked too much

and way too hard,

for sure.  I know.  

And if we really could

we’d just spend the day hanging out,

like kids.  Ya  Know.  

Skipping rocks and

chasing dreams again.  

Waiting for mom or dad

to call us in, to eat and sleep.  

For sure.  I know.

But now we’re way too old

to have hopes and dreams.   

We’re blindsided by the money machine.

Working jobs to keep our credit clean.

It’s so damn sad,

I know.  For sure.

But, hey there friend.  

I’m glad to see you again.  

It’s been too long.  

Ya know. For sure.  

We’re gonna make new dreams

to keep and memorize

so that we can live in the past again.  

For good.  For sure.

You know?

 

I’ll see you when the cows come home buddy.

Love and Wordy Words,

Unkle Bill

68 Farmers vs Hunters Insurance

”There are many ways to get to the top: Hard work, Persistence, Personal Faith, or

just pushing everyone down who stands in your way.”

– A Friendless, yet Successful Person

 

Farmers vs Hunters Insurance

 

<<in the kitchen of the Bucket o’ Blood in the year 4325, there is a Cook and a

Dishwasher and a Boss and a Free Dave.  they are all drinking and standing around

the back room of the kitchen carrying on at least five different converations all at

once.  Free Dave speaks the loudest for the longest.  his voice echoes very efficiently

off of the Black Metal Black Door of the Bucket o’ Blood>>

 

“Junior, there once was a corn farmer who had a whole mess of wild pigs who would

sneak into his field at night and eat up all his corn.  He tried everything to save his crop

but nothing he could devise would keep the pigs out of his field, and so the Farmer lost

that which he tried so hard to protect.  

He was sad.  Then one day a hunter stopped by the farm to trade animal pelts for

grain for his horse.  The Farmer said he didn’t have grain enough to spare due to a

sounder of swine which had plagued him to no end.  The Hunter listened quietly to the

Farmer’s tale and then proclaimed that he could single handedly rid the Farmer of the

heard of swine without firing a shot.  The Farmer

of course doubted the stranger’s words but reluctantly agreed to feed

the Hunter and his horse if the Hunter holds up his end of the bargain.

The Hunter says it will take thirty days and thirty bags of corn.  

The Farmer consents.  The first day the Hunter walks out in front of

the corn field and cuts open a bag of corn twenty feet away from the

growing plants.  Later that day a lone pig wanders out of the field

of corn stalks and eats the processed corn laying on the ground.  The

Hunter walks out and puts up a piece of fencing between the corn field

and the dining swine.  The next day the Hunter goes out and

cuts another bag of corn open and leaves it out for hungry pigs to

find, and find it they do.  Two pigs wander out of the field and eat

up the bag of corn.  The Hunter puts up another piece of fencing.

This continues the third day and the forth.  The Hunter leaves out a

bag of corn and more pigs show up every day to eat it and watch the

hunter build his fence.  Now, Junior, around the tenth day there are

quite a few pigs eating the Farmer’s corn and the Hunter hasn’t

killed a single one of them.  ’Shoot them!!  They are right there

eating my corn, easy to kill!’, bellows the Farmer.  But the Hunter

reminds the Farmer that he would kill all of the wild pigs without

firing a single shot.  The Farmer reluctantly resigns to let the

Hunter’s game play out.  Another day, another bag of corn.  More

pigs, more pieces of fencing.  At the thirty day there are a hundred

hungry pigs eating the bag of corn and the Hunter walks up and puts

the final piece of fencing in.  This last piece has enclosed the pigs

in a large holding pen.  The pigs are now trapped in the Hunter’s

game.  The Hunter thanks the Farmer for feeding him and his horse and

turns to take his leave.  The Farmer declares that the Hunter failed

and did not kill any pigs, for they are all very much alive and

staring out from their prison.  ‘Why don’t you kill them?’, asks the

Farmer.  ‘Why bother?  They will soon run out of corn and eat each

other.’ <<Free Dave stops his tale and puts his hand on your leather jacketed

shoulder>>  And Junior that’s all we’ve been doing to each other for the

past four thousand years, just sitting around in our cages eating

one another.”, says Free Dave.

 

“What the fuck are you talking about Free Dave?”, you ask.  <<you hang up your black

leather jacket on the equally battered rack of kitchen containers>>

 

&&image of Notnek, finn, hop and free in back room&&

 

“We eat fine food and we drink fine drink.  Enjoying the many gifts this world has to

offer us.  Also, if one is as lucky as me, we take enjoyment in watching our enemy

prepare our feasts for us in our little traps.  We are only as free as we feel Finnegan.  

Free Dave and I just feel you and Hop-a-long should work faster, Wage Slaves.”, says

Notnek.

 

<<the Boss and the Free Dave go out back and smoke the Boss’s cigarettes while you

and Hopskotch prepare the kitchen for the lunch rush.  since the Ghost of the

Reverend Duff, Mostly High, does not clean the dining room, you and Hopskotch

and the Waitresses all clean sections of the dining area in addition to your regular

opening duties.  this build unit cohesion.  or the opportunity for you to score more

alcoholic beverages for doing the Bartender’s janitorial work.  Rickie Torch walks

in the front barn door as you mop up behind the bar and down two shots of a sickly

sweet whiskey.  after two thousand years, Rickie Torch still creeps you out.  Torch is

not a Zombie Cow.  not even a zombie cow human slave.  Torch does not look any

different than he did two thousand years of hamburgers ago>>

 

‘Junior, lets get this order put up.  Okay?  Today damnit.”, says Notnek.

 

“You got it Boss.”, you say.

 

“No, you got it Junior.  I’ve got to go write all of the ten specials on the board out front.  

Tell me we’re not out of chutney?”, says Notnek.

 

“Hey Chief, lets talk about that new meat I was bringing you while I’ve got you two

here.”, says Rickie Torch.

 

<<Torch steps up between you and Notnek and holds up a box with the words,

“Beyond Human” printed in blood red on it.>>

 

“This is that company that has been on the Evening News with Knowone Stevens, isn’t it?  

They are doing some sort of research into nonhuman meat that tastes like human meat

to the average cowman.”, says Notek.

 

“That’s right!  Beyond Human.  It’s so good your customers won’t even know it’s not

human!”, says Rickie Torch.

 

“Did you just…nevermind.”, you say.

 

“Hold on here Torch, you remember what happened last time I let you talk me into

trying you fancy science project meat?”, says Notnek.

 

<<your evil Boss in this Future grabs his udders and raises both of his faces to the

sky and laughs out loud.  Rickie Torch quickly silences Notnek when he tells him the

price of the new meat.  ten cents on the dollar of the price of human meat per

pound.  the Horde Government has taken over the processing and distribution of

human meat.  it is heavily regulated.  but you have heard that Dump Co. Meat

Company is not very selective of what species meat it produces>>

 

“Junior mix this shit in with the regular human meat we got and see if my Buddies, I

mean the Customers, will eat it.  Today Damnit!!”, says Notnek.

 

<<Hopskotch Sunday has finished stocking the salad line and is now washing the

morning prep work dishes in the tai-sink area of the kitchen.  you walk by the stove

and stir the various soups, sides and sauces that simmer and stew whilst carrying

loads of meats and breaded body parts to be fried and fed to the Horde’s grueling

masses during the lunch rush of consumers.  after hours of prep work, it is almost

time to open the front barn doors of the Bucket o’ Blood.  you’ve Hopskotch a high

five and the two of you slink out the back patio for a head change.  never forget,>>  

 

“Mindless self indulgence is the Whole of the Law.”, you say.

 

“I thought it was ‘Do what thou will’ is the whole of the law.”, says Hopskotch.

 

<<the Black Metal Black Door closes behind Hopskotch Sunday>>

 

“Well the law is all an elaborate illuminati plot anyway.”, you say.

 

“I know that’s right.”, says Hopskotch Sunday.

 

<<you both laugh.  you walk past the patio chairs where you normally sit and cry  at

a green metal patio table that sits between the walk-in cooler’s outside wall and the

back gate of the Bucket o’ Blood.  the Waitresses start to trickle in through the front

and rear of the restaurant depending upon their level of hangover.  you make jokes

with them as they pass and slap one on her tail.  you and Hopskotch walk to the

center of the parking lot and start to play hockey sack with a lime from the walk

in>>

 

“I like that positive attitude Finnegan.  I have been afraid to talk to you since we got here.  

How drunk are you?”, Hopskotch Sunday says.

 

 

 

67 Letters to Shilo

Letters to Shilo

From Unkle Bill W BobChange

 

Dear Shilo,

 

Sandfires have destroyed the alcoholics anonymous tent at the Brohemian Grove camp

ground.  The fucking Wesleyans think that the goddamned Catholics did it.  Senator

Sandler and the rest of the Jews think the Oklahellmouth Baptists did it.  illuminated

racial prejudice is hilarious.  Shilo, I can not tell you how happy I am that you let me

impersonate you for This Year’s Cremation of Care B-Lot.  Or was it C-lot.  Care C-Lot?  No

that’s not right.  Any-way there is no reason that we couldn’t burn the sacrifices.  The

kids have already been paid for, right?  It’s just like the pyramid disaster.  we could have

completed the pyramid without triggering the earth destroying volcano if the illuminati

had hired a contractor who could draw his own plans.  Shilo, you wouldn’t believe that

those fools were still using the same old blueprints that were drafted back by the Vixen

Administration.  Dick Trick himself added the fucking bowling alley into the design.  

Who would have thought the world wouldn’t have room for one more bowling alley?     

 

Strikes and Gutters, Love and Wordy Words,

Unkle Bill

66 Business Case Study of the B.o.B. of the Future

“Aside from battles, the history of nations seemed to consist of nothing but powerless old

poops…………heavily medicated and vaguely beloved in the long ago, coming to kiss the

boots of young psychopaths.”

– Kurt Vonnegut, Slapstick 1976

 

Business Case Study of the B.o.B. of the Future

 

<<let us just jump into things.  you and Hopskotch were kidnapped by a giant spider

and taken to an alternate dimension or the future or something like that.  and well

Notnek is still a jerk.  free dave still isn’t working on anything other than a smoke

break.  the waitresses all still flirt with you and bring you heavily liquored drinks.  

you still don’t have your son.  Finnegan, you are pretty certain that Baby Thor is no

longer a baby.  gAberaham and Dyin tell future you that Thor has left this

dimension.  you have been in the 44th century for a month of Sundays not yet seen

Hopskotch Sunday!>>

 

What?!  What are you blathering on about?  I am not in the future.  I am in hell.  I cannot

begin to summarize what the past month has been like.  But I am working for a zombie

cow Notnek at a zombie cow Bucket o’ Blood and my only comfort has been the demon

alcohol and zombie cow comedian in a Darth Vader mask.  Until yesterday when the new

dishwasher showed up at work; and it was Hopskotch…

 

<<i know.  i watched you go the big soft rubbery one>>

 

“Hey Finnegan.”, says Hopskotch Sunday.

 

<<Hopskotch Sunday is standing in the back kitchen, just inside the Black Metal

Back Door of the B.o.B.  you drop the plate of food you are handing to a waitress.  

your mouth opens but no words come out.  that is a first.  Hopskotch Sunday no

longer has his head full of dreadlocks.  his head has been shaved and the number

319 has been tattooed on the side of his head.  the ink work looks familiar.  Notnek

barges into the kitchen and screams>>

“Junior!!  Why in the hell are we out of Chutney?!”, asks Notnek.

 

<<you and Hopskotch do not get to talk much until after the dinner rush.  out back

over a couple drinks from the bar, you try to speak to Hopskotch over the sound of

Free Dave asking the Waitress to help him make some fuck>>

 

“So much of the land of this world has been blown up or fallen into the sea since the

Horde took them helm of ‘Merica’ that what the rising oceans didn’t swallow has turned

into overgrown jungle or trodden pasture.  the Horde set aside vast tracks of land for

seemingly uninfected cows to roam free, grazing on the fields of ever growing green

grass.  The Human population is kept at a minimum for feeding upon of for wage slave

labor.  The Cows in Charge thought that it was a fitting punishment to let humans keep

their day jobs.  The illuminati takes out whole cities of cows or humans if they think that

it is getting too big.”, you say.

 

“Or too powerful.”, says Hopskotch Sunday.

 

<<it is a bright sunny day in the Oklahellmouth in the year 4325.  the City of

Oklahellmouth is the last remaining city still standing on the West ‘Merican’

continent.  well it is the only other than whatever is going on down at the Farm

anyway.  you know Finnegan, a real live functioning, bustling, mass transportation

offering, cubical jockeying, quote unquote unskilled laborer (cooking), police

patrolling, pollster polling, vote tampering, over

crowding…ing city.  the birds are taller than what passes for trees here.  you and

Hopskotch dodge a big bird stomping through the parking lot and stumble toward

the back patio and the Black Metal Back Door of the Bucket o’ Blood.  

 

&&image of a 50’ pigeon with Hop and Finn in between the legs&&

 

<<forever and always, Notnek and his Horde buddies are sitting up at the bar and

laughing over drinks.  they occasionally take a glimpse at the sports games on the

many float television screens floating around the bar.  watching television too long

makes a person look like a paranoid schizophrenic.  i consider viruses and humans

and cowmans and televisions and the like to all mingle in the person category now.  

unfortunately in the year 4325 the televisions have even less personality than the

flat screens of yesteryear.  these days the screen is just a panel of digital receivers

printed off of the Bucket o’ Blood’s 3D supply printer.  do not ask how much of the

food is printed off of that same machine.  there are hundreds of moving about all

over the dining room.  the movement of the screens and the channels are changed

by a person focusing their attention on the screen.  the machines interact with the

brain waves of other people and share their content with the viewer in a dialogue

fashion>>

 

<<the sports game goes to commercial.  there is an advertisement for a late night

comedy show called “Moo-re Cow Bell”, hosted by ‘Merica’s Last “Living” Comedian,

a Zombie Cowman named Lenny V.  Lenny V wears a Darth Vader helmet on his cow

head.  asked why he, a member of the Horde, wears a mask from a human SciFi

movie from the Stoned age; Lenny V always gives the same answer.  with a

thoughtful look in his far away eyes, a downturned mouth, and yes, a raised

crinkled chin; Lenny V says,>>  “Although you cannot see me face, you can understand

me through my words.  I have a thoughtful look in my far away eyes, a down turned

mouth, and yes a crinkled chin.  I cry, I have feelings.  I also have a day job, a mortgage, a

hungry wife, a spoiled mistress, child support and a pill habit that makes me shit myself.  

I have funny shits.”

 

<<this makes the audience scream with laughter, as do all of his jokes on his

televised evening routine.  this cow is one funny mother fucker.  apparently

humans get more points by achieving fornication with the mothers your species?>>

 

Yes.  Fuck me.

 

<<ha.  I see what you did there Finnegan>>

 

You were talking about this funny cow from two thousand years after I should be dead?

 

<<yes.  there are several tentacles that hang out from the bottom of the Vader

mask…  Lenny V’s Darth Vader mask also has a line of clear plastic tubing that runs

from the bottom of the mask down to an oxygen tank that has been converted to

hold a THC gas.  the Comedian breathes deeply of the gas from the tank that bears a

“Local Martyrs Band” sticker.  the audience roars and the “Moo-re Cow Bell” logo

pops up on the screen; a variety of ‘Lenny V’ products fall from the top of the screen

to the bottom and then “Moo_re_Cow_Bell.cow” lands on the pile of Lenny V

merchandise.  thus endeth the commercial.  Notnek smiles when he see you, his

Cook, and Hopskotch, his Dishwasher, clocking into work>>

 

“Junior, Hop-a-long, why, you’re late?!”, Notnek says.  <<with mock astonishment

overflowing from his beer glass>>

 

“Harr d Harr harr..”, laugh the Bosses Buddies.  <<all of the Boss’s cow buddies sit on

bar stools and lean on tables, drinking beer and eating fried food stuffs.  the

Cowmen turn their attention away from the television sports show commercials

long enough to laugh at Notnek’s employee wage slaves>>

 

“Sorry Boss.”, you and Hopskotch say.  <<in monotone unison>>

 

“There was a line at the suicide booth.”, you offer.  <<in addiction to the previous

apology>>  

 

“Damnit girl, I know you know those things have been busted, out of order, broke, since

3995?!”, bellows Zombie Lawyer Bob.

 

 

<<ZLB, or Zombie Lawyer Bob, distributes all of the contents of his gin an tonic

glass all over the bar as he slurs at you>>

 

“Don’t I know it Lawyer Bob.  But be damned if me and three hundred other cows and

cooks don’t check it every trucking morning for the Government’s Prophesied Repairs.”,

you say.  <<this pleases the Horde’s favorite Lawyer>>

 

<<news on a dozen flying televisions display a plastic looking evening news

broadcaster who announces:>>  “Humans employed in the construction of a new series

of 279 meter high pyramids in LaVaca, Kaliphonia were killed in a volcano eruption

today.  Construction crews digging subterranean levels for the pyramid apparently broke

an underground damn the brought in millions of gallons of sea water into the Kaliphonia

main land.  A volcanic eruption was seen 6 hours after the inland flooding began.  East

‘Merican’ China has offered to give aid to displaced Kaliphonians despite country wide

disruptions caused by the Cowmen Industries revolt.  Jackalmen can be seen setting fires

to grass patties here.  Ashley is in the weather room…”, says Anchorman Knowone

Stevens.

 

&&insert Jackalmen and news caster floating around future bucket o blood bar with cowmen lawyer bob and benny.  Notnek and Hopskotch and Finnegan on next page&&

 

“Quit being cute Junior and get in that kitchen.  It’s thursgay and you know that means

we need ten daily specials for the community lunch.”, say Notnek.

 

<<the Boss waves all four of his arms in a sweeping motion to indicated the

community of which he speaks.  ten cowmen of varying human and cow

proportions sit in the bar area and more and more cows are coming in through the

from t barn door.  you feel the last of today’s hope draining right out of you

Finnegan>>

 

“Right-o Mine Führer, right after I visit the greatest nation in the world.  Urination.”, you

say.  <<you say this to Notnek in passing.  it is your ritual to pretend that it is normal

to walk into a restaurant that serves human/cow hybrids a mixture of human/plant

based foods.  it is your practice these days to cook and clean with Hopskotch and to

go home (what the two of you call home anyway) and paint and draw and write and

cry until the day is at it’s end.  until the cows come home.  it is also your practice to

consume as much of your employer’s booze as inhumanly/humanly possible to dull

your senses against theatricals and tribulations which assault you from Boss and

Restaurant>>

 

<<the Bucket o’ Blood violates your soul from all directions and in numerous

indirect ways.  From the cooks’ and the waitress’s and the customers’ unending

needs and desires to the Boss’s constant verbal attack and occasional physical ass

kicking.  Notnek follows you from the bar to the restroom and continues the

conversation you just tried to end>>

 

<<cutting you off halfway to the restroom, Notnek puts on cow arm in front of you

and another on the table next to you.  the Boss/cow reminds you of a spider holding

a fly trapped inside a web.>>

 

“What’s the problem Junior?  You look more miserable than usual.”, says Notnek.   

 

&&finnegan n virus image&&  need to put one in every finn & virus break for logical cohesion.  when finnegan speaks like below

 

Mock concern foams in Notnek’s eyes.  

 

<<he does care that you are miserable Finnegan>>

 

I know.  Notnek doesn’t enjoy having me around unless I am in emotional or physical

distress.

 

<<well it does bring him pleasure to watch you suffer, to be true, but I also think

that he does still care a bit about you on a former human to human level>>

 

Thanks bud, all better.

 

<<glad i could help..  real mock concern in his eyes, Notnek’s udders jiggle between

the lapels of his unbuttoned yellow Hawaiian shirt.  “Sunset in Paradise”, he calls

this replica of the shirt he wore every Taco Tuesday two thousand years ago>>  

“What’s the problem Junior?”, the Boss repeats.

 

“Yup.  More miserable than usual.”, you say.

 

<<you look up at your “employer”, who has always been dozens of centimeters

taller than you.  cow zombification has only increased his height.  you pour forth

enthusiasm that matches Notnek’s wardrobe selection.  the crooked smile on your

face is dubious to say the least.  Notnek scowls at you and opens his human mouth

to make the talking noise>>

 

“Bud are you still cryin’ about cooking?!  It is your lot in life!  Accept it.  Relax and let it

happen.  Bummed that you’re still working for me after time travel and zombie

apocalypse?  Simple.  I win at life.  You?  Well, not so much.  There.  Does that rub a dub

dub it into your rum soaked brain?  Minimum Wage Misery.  Why, it is all yours

Finnegan.”, says Notnek.

 

“Mindless we wander, looking for meaning in a bottle or a bowl, new pants or a flying

car.  Why don’t I have a flying car boss?”, you say.

 

<<Notnek smiles and raises his beer in his left human hand, toasting one of his

buddies who sits at the bar giggling with the two headed Bartender that’s learning

at you.  Notnek has already forgotten that he was belittling you and has walked

toward the bar and his buddy.  the “buddy”, a cowman named Terrance, is an oil

field worker with red dirt on his boots and an old leather jacket.  the leather jacket

looks a lot like yours, except Terrance’s jacket is made out of Russel, the old night

cook.  Terrance notices you looking at his jacket and nods at you and yours>>

 

“If you don’t salt the skin within a few hours of removal of the critter’s flesh, ya might as

well just burn it.  The skin starts to decompose so quickly and you’ll lose most of the

people hair off of it and this awesome skin tone.  You want to try it on?”, says Terrance.

 

<<you ignore the Boss’s buddy and take a swig from the rum flask that lives in your

back pocket.  Finnegan, if your philosophy makes you want to stay drunk and

stoned all of the time, i would suggest reformatting your mental parameters.  it

seems to be a social sickness.  the “why are we killing ourselves” disease.  Lawyer

Bob had it back when he was a human two thousand years ago too>>

 

65 Künstlerroman

illuminati hiding

 

“Have you ever read a Künstlerroman, Doctor?”, asks Yukio.

 

“A what?”, asks the Doctor.

 

“It is an artist’s novel.  A narrative of an artist’s growth to maturity.”, says IshiZuka.

 

<<the Brothers stand in the doorway of the Doctor’s study.  Baby Thor stands

between them.  Baby Thor hold a plastic toy hammer in one hand and a MyPhone in

the other.  video game noises are emanating from the MyPhone.  the Doctor is going

through pages in his notebook and pages on his computer screen.  Limothy Tearany

stands across the desk from the Doctor.  when Tearany sees the Brothers and the

Child enter the room, he turns to stare out of the window.  the sunshine on the

beach outside absorbs Terrane’s mind>>

 

“Happy families are all alike Doctor.  Every unhappy family is unhappy in it’s own way.  

Be it betrayal in general, or adultery or zombie apocalypse or some other minor abuse.”,

says Yukio.

 

“What are you going on about Tolstoy?”, says the Doctor.

 

<<bitterness sours the Doctor’s voice>>

 

“We are all part of a family Doctor.  The Human Family.  The illuminati, specifically your

Father and Doctor Tearany, wish only for the long term happiness of the entire family.  

To live long and to prosper, to go forth and multiply; we seek to spread the seed of earth

all across the universe.”, says Yukio.

 

<<IshiZuka walks to Ruben’s desk and places an old leather bound book next to the

Doctor’s computer>>

 

“We are all just stories Doctor.  Let us make it a good one.  Remember that they’ll kill the

actor in the end.”, says IshiZuka.  <<a.k.a. Zukio by his brother Yukio>>

 

<<the Brothers nod to the Doctor.  Ruben looks to Baby Thor.  Baby Thor looks at his

father, nods and turns to leave with the Brothers.  the book bares the title, “the

illuminated ones” in a language rarely seen by the Doctor.  Ruben raises his eyes to

meet Doctor Tearany’s gaze>>

 

64 His Cowhead Continues to Chant

<<from the door of City Hall emerges a duplicate of the evil employer you are

begrudgingly standing next to.  this doppelgänger is immediately familiar to you as

the Cowman who stormed into “Oh My, Antoine!!!”’s and battered, blew up and

immolated the place.  Notnek from the future strolls down the steps of City Hall and

you notice two things:

 

  1. Notnek of the future has perfected that pimp walk ha has been attempting since the 1970’s.  additional limbs have helped his endeavor.
  2. he is dragging what looks to be a statue of the Dishwasher, A.K.A. Hopskotch Sunday B.S.A.>>

 

<<you gasp at the sight of your petrified partner in art. the friends gasp.  Free Dave

gasps, as he has just dropped his last cigarette.  Notnek from the present day

grumbles to himself and fishes out his pack from his Hawaiian shirt pocket.  he

tosses the pack at Free Dave’s head>>

 

“Well, what did you go and make that thing for?  A statue of my Dumbass Dishwasher?  I

thought you didn’t or I still don’t like him in the future?  Are you trying to turn the

people of Normal Towne against me…err…you, before you, I, prance off back into the

future?  Answer me you Nancy!”, says Present day Notnek.

 

<<Future Notnek laughs at the arrogance of his former self>>

 

“No bud”, <<the future lord of the cows states his mission,>>  “I am going to stay here

and make sure the future becomes what I will it to become.  I want you to go back to the

future in my stead.  Rule the army that I currently have in place.  Enjoy yourself.  Reap

the benefits of your work without having to live through the centuries of toil itself.”, says

Future Notnek.

 

“Well…that sounds like an offer that I just can’t refuse.  It’s nice of me to do something so

nice for me.  Don’t you think, Finnegan?”, says Present day Notnek.   

 

<<P.D. Notnek claps his hands and hooves in jubilation.  from the doorway of City

Hall F.D. Notnek raises four limbs to the audience and then to the sky>>

 

“And now, a word from our sponsor…”, says Future Day Notnek.

 

<<Notnek of the future then doubles over as if in pain and the cow head on his

human back opens its eyes and mouth and speaks,>>

 

“319!  And I say unto thee in order to honor thine offer to get off on her your Honor, Dear

Hopskotch and Finnegan be still.  Witch both did.  Prompt.  iD.  Eh, chrystal holder Hop

hath no choice?  Save Bucket o’ Blood owner that had rheumaniscences in his new and

used netherlumbs. – – By the drop in his groin, Ali Slupa reverse ,thinks the kentoN,

plumbing his liners, we were heretofore…..fore to me here. – – And be the coop of his

gobos be eye rid of those Hobos, Reacher the Thaurd, Travle the web is not hard unless

you thinks  your girth fatter, apopo of his buckseaseilers, but where’s Horace’s courting

trousers? – – I put hem behind the oasthouse, said Pukkelsen.”, says the F.D. Notnek

Cowhead.

 

“What the hell?!”, says Free Dave and Present Day Notnek <<in jinx worthy unison>>

 

<<Future Day Notnek cuts his human arm and rubs blood into a tattoo on one of his

cow limbs.  his Cowhead continues to chant,>>

 

“Again 319!!  Night for my lifting.  Hillyhollow, valley low!  With the sounds and the

scents in the morning.  – – I shot be  shoddied, throttle me, fine me cow-heel forever,

usquebauched the ersewild ale conner, for bringing briars to Bembracken and ringing

rinbus round Demetrius for, as you wrinkle time wryghtly, bully bluedomer, it’s a

suirsite’s web stircus haunting histories round old volcanoes.  We gin Y.A.A.R.’s too gnir

and thus plinary indulgence makes collemullas of us all.  But Time is for talerman testing

his tap.  Tiptoptap, Mister Maut like Finnegan to Notnek, Hopskotch along the way.  He

made one summery (Cholk and murble in lonestime)  of his three swallows, like Anansi!  

I call thee!  Anansi!”, says F.D. Notnek’s Cowhead.

 

<<with those words the daytime sky is torn open above P.D. Notnek and Finnegan’s

heads.  a string falls from the sky.  no, a spider’s web descends from the darkness

emitting from the tear in reality and time.  and down the web strand slides a giant

spider with the giant head of a man>>

 

&&&anansi the spider image&&&

 

“Man, I hate working with you Notnek, but I must admit you did magick with that

passage there!  Your words were like butter.  They were!  What can I do ya for?  You…

crazy freak show, you., says Anansi the Spider.

 

<<the giant inter dimensional  time traveling spider with the head of a sci-fi god

looks down from one Notnek to the other.  Notnek from the future smiles and bows

while crossing one of his four arms across his Hawaiian shirt clad chest.  F.D.

Notnek talks and walks down the steps of Normal Towne’s City Hall.  the fiend from

the future drags the Hopskotch Sunday statue down the stairs with a rope tied to it

and slung over the Cowman’s shoulder.  the owner of the Bucket o’ Blood smiles up

at Anansi and says,>>  “I was hoping that I could talk you into returning a few things to

the future for me Anansi.”

 

 

<<Anansi the Spider and Notnek of the future exchange a few words in private.  

Future Day Notnek then returns to his old self>>

 

“A few things to return to the future?”, Present Day Notnek asks.

 

“Oh yes, just you and some, some books I picked up from some friends back home.  You

don’t mind carrying them back do you bud?”, says Future Day Notnek.

 

<<Future Notnek hands several volumes to his younger self and instructs himself to

go with Anansi.  Anansi leads Today’s Notnek to the Web of Time and instructs the

Cowman to climb.  Notnek wave goodbye to Normal Towne, all of the remaining

citizens and the Twenty First Century.  when Today’s Notnek was up the web and

out of sight and hearing range, Tomorrow’s Notnek instructs Anansi to take the

Cook and the Dishwasher to the future and,>>  “Drop them off somewhere really

unpleasant.”, says Future Notnek.

 

“I find everywhere in 4325 is unpleasant man, every time.”, says Anansi the Time

Traveling Spider.

 

<<Anansi shakes his human head as he takes the rope tied to Statue Formerly

Known As Hopskotch Sunday in one spider leg and wraps another spider leg around

your leather jacket clad waist.  the giant George Takei headed spider draws close to

your face and speaks,>>  “Let us go for a ride Love.”, says Anansi the Spider.

 

<<Dasha and Star and Jaybee and Tony the Meat Guy watch in confusion, terror,

amazement and mild amusement at the reality paradigms shifting before their

eyes>>

 

“Time to leave” <<says the Spider to the Cook.  and with a tug and a pull and a zip

and a pop!, the travelers were out of this time and the shy shone brightly again over

the Oklahellmouth>>

 

<<Finnegan, you sure are gone>>

 

I am, aren’t I?

 

<<Dasha, Jaybee, Star and Tony all stand together drowning in despair.  Notnek of

the Future smiles and walks back up the stairs of City Hall.  The owner of the Bucket

o’ Blood walks into City Hall like he owns the place.  Laughter echoes from the

building when he shuts the front door.  Free Dave looks at Dasha and Star and gives

each of them a weak smile>>

 

“Bitch get out of here.”, says Star.

 

<<Free Dave reluctantly leaves the humans and joins the Cowmen and Horde

members in City Hall>>