<>The Search for the Search
A Discordant Primer in three parts
The search for the reason
<>The reason for the
search
<>The reason for the
reason
<>By Pope Logos the
Ith<>
My apologies to any and all who have no sense of humour.
Conventional Chaos Cabal Copyright 2001
<>Hello. I am John Deer Doe and this is
the chronicle of the search of the reason that I may have found,
but I'm still unsure of. Perhaps I should start at the beginning.
It all started when I ducked under the stoop of an apartment.
A perfectly natural apartment. An unnaturally natural apartment.
I stood there looking blankly at the sign saying vacancy. Could
it be that my methodical searches of New York City yield nothing?
What is the luck that I just randomly walk into a place with a
vacancy? I noticed that on the bottom of the sign it said to go
away. I thought about for all of three seconds and then went in
to see the landlord.
I stood blinking in disbelief as the landlord drearily shows me
this apartment. It was slightly on the small side but very cosy,
views to south and the west of small parks. Even better than that
was that the rent is stupidly low. What a surprise for my soon
to be wife, a soon to be home.
My fiancé is one of those few special people who are perfect and
have the decency to deny it. She has that perfect blend of wit,
personality, and brains that win over friends and gets her jobs
with the government. We met in collage that we finished roughly
two weeks ago with all the bravado and alcohol possible. Good-bye
Frat-house, hello Suburbia. It pleased me to no end to be able
to find a delightful apartment to surprise her with.
Driving into the government labs where she worked after I parked
my car and went inside. Entering the room, they had especially
set aside for waiting fiancés I looked up at the clock and picked
up a newspaper. It was close to an hour, and the last three days'
sport sections, until she came out excitedly apologising about
being late.
"The most intriguing bit of research" she said catching
my curiosity enough to ask what she was working on until she noticeably
paled and said, "It's classified." She told me that
she had today and tomorrow off so we could see the new apartment
and celebrate.
Arriving home quickly due to the lack of rush hour traffic, I
settled in on the couch that came with the place while my wife
went to the bathroom. This was the last time I saw her alive.
I went in to ask her when we should start packing to move in,
and if we should bring in what furniture we had as it was crappy
compared to the stuff that came with the place. She wasn't there.
After searching the apartment, building, and garage I returned
to research the apartment. After an hour and six and one tenth
minutes of unsuccessful searching I called her mother to see if
she somehow slipped out and took a bus up to her mother's home.
Sherene, her mother answered. When I asked if my fiancé were there
she told me she didn't have a daughter and told me to go do something
that I'm still not sure is humanly possible.
Angry at being told off by her mother, and worried about her,
I called the police to file a missing person, only to be told
that the work could not be done unless the missing person called
in to report it themselves. I spent a futile half an hour of trying
to explain that the person was missing, and that I couldn't get
her to call. This was also ended in a suggestion to do the humanly
impossible.
I promptly got out a small notepad and wrote down those two things
in a list to keep track of the ever growing and all consuming
list of things I'm not sure are humanly possible. After this I
went to bed, it being a late hour.
After waking up to the sounds of a small kid on a bicycle peddling
down the hall hurling papers at peoples, doors with all the force,
he could muster. I then remembered about my wife and skipping
breakfast only promptly to trip over the paper and landed flat
on my face.
My new neighbour across the hall helped me to my feet and seemed
surprised when I asked if that were a regular occurrence. "Of
course it is, except the part about you falling on your face.
Then again this is your first day here so after this it may be
a regular occurrence. Besides how else would we our paper."
He was clearly astonished over my stupidity.
On my way to the labs I was pulled over by a police officer who
after looking at my driver's licence for all of two seconds said,
"Have a pleasant day.” and left. After that I noticed
that my birthday is February 30th which it isn't or at least wasn't.
I sat there looking for a moment at my other cards' which all
said my birthday was February 30th. This wasn't a prank as I noticed
they were the same cards even down to where I microwaved my trash
skeet shooting membership card.
Continuing my way to where my wife works I listened to the radio
which wasn't bad considering I don't like traditional Chinese
hymns. Nevertheless, what can you complain about.
After reaching where the labs used to be, I found an immense wire
fence and armed guards instead. I noticed the large warehouse
where the labs were with a large Canadian Mafia logo, which was
a combination of an igloo and cement shoes. I noticing that the
guards wore flannel jackets, toques, and carried Tommy guns, realised
that they probably were really the Canadian Mafia and wisely drove
on.
Very confused and frustrated I went to the police station that
had a very small and legal looking not pinned on the door saying:
The police department has been disbanded in favour of a
recently passed law prohibiting the breaking of the law, and
as so breaking of the law shall not be done.
The Management
I also noticed that there were very faintly embossed letters in
a square saying "do not lick here." After a moment of
fearful indecision I licked the door only to find that the door
was in fact beef flavoured.
On my way back to the car a sudden stroke of Genius struck me
with a strong smack of "Might-just-be-crazy-enough-to-work-if-you-add-enough-hyphens."
So I quickly raced home and turned on the Television to World-Quest
which was then vehemently requesting that whoever stole Brother
Magoun's pornography to return it. I did this for a half hour
and then raced to my car to be stuck in 2:30 P.M. traffic, which
as is well known a killer. After a very slow and hungry hour of
wondering if double decker buses are beef flavoured, I finally
returned to the Canadian Mafia Headquarters in New York.
Then in the brilliance of my idea a rolled down my window and
said carefully, "Excuse me, I'm here to return Brother Magoun's
pornography, please eh." After a nerve wreaking moment of
staring down those beady Canadian eyes they yelled at me, "Sorry
for the inconvenience, go right on through, thank you!"
Successfully inside I parked my car and went up to what used to
be the main building. I stepped inside and then went to the antique
elevator with a small sign saying broken. As I turned to go for
the stairs the elevator doors opened and there stood a Buddhist
monk in a red and yellow silk robes. He was seemingly unconcerned
over the fact that there was no elevator supporting him and that
he had in fact no visible means of support. After stepping onto
the floor and noticing my gaping mouth he sagaciously said "Broken
elevators do not stop broken Bodhisattvas."
I greeted this apparent wisdom, as I did him, with mouth hanging
open and silent for a few more moments.
"You said you had my pornography?”, he said gravely.
I again greeted this with characteristic silence and many blank
dull uncomprehending looks and then by trying to play castanet
music with my eyelids. I then took out my list of things humanly
impossibly . I scratched one off and after that I put the pad
back and continued my dumb stare. The monk spoke loudly.
"All things will be answered right after I get my pornography"
With this wise Koan I snapped out of my trance and was enlightened.
I spoke loudly saying "Your Brother Magoun"
"Yes and you have my pornography," he replied
"No, I don't" I said weakly
"I strongly suspect you do" he said nodding his head
and holding out his hand.
"No, I don't" I again replied weakly.
"Then why did you say you did?" he asked.
"I lied."
"Ah a great wisdom," and then after pause, "Are
you looking for something?", he said leaning forward.
"Yes" I said and after a few moments, "My fiancé."
"When did your fiancé go missing?"
I replied confusedly "Yesterday around six"
Then Brother Magoun said "Hmm"
Nervously I asked him if he'd like to be alone to which he replied,
"No" Then after a great pause said "I greatly fear
that the disappearance of your fiancé and my pornography are connected"
I rejected that strongly saying, "That's impossible they're
not connected"
Then Brother Magoun with an air of a Buddha said, "The world
can tell a snake from a dragon but you cannot fool an Ex-Buddhist
monk"
Brother Magoun spoke again saying ,"Enough of that though"
and he removed his robes to reveal a Hawaiian shirt in a dragon
print with coconut shell buttons flowing gracefully into surfer
shorts." I'm officially an Ex-Bodhisattva and a Zen Grand
Master."
Again I greeted him with nether words nor silence but one of the
variety of odd sounds you make when no thought at all is happening.
Brother Magoun then said, "Come with me," and stepped
into midair in the elevator platform.
I after looking for a moment decided he was going to tech me levitation
so I closed my eyes and stepped forward.
I promptly fell with gravitational acceleration all of 30 feet
and landed in piles of loosely gathered porno mags. Brother Magoun
floated down and said gravely that these magazines were not his
pornography. After we got out, we walked the length of the building,
past innumerable rooms, to the end of the building to the last
room, opened the door and stepped in.
Inside was a fold-able playing card table covered in magazines
and stacks of white papers with official looking papers. Brother
Magoun quickly looked at the magazines and sadly sits them aside
saying, "these are not my pornography." I walked up
to the table and picked up some of the loose papers
"This is Jane's writing" I said
"Who's Jane?"
"My fiancé."
"You never said before."
I quickly started leafing through the papers. They were technical
and theoretical information behind a new weapon for the American
government. It was Code-named "Project Pot Luck" it
was very much a luck bomb only there seemed to be aggressive and
wide-ranging side effects. " The Bad Luck Control Factor
" it was called the weapon worked on the theory of Eris Chaotic
Escalation whatever that is. It was trying to invert chance and
to warp space and time. Was this why my fiancé was missing? I
and brother Magoun was wondering this when six strong looking
lumberjacks followed by six sly curlers walked in on us and surrounded
us.
The leader spoke, "Excuse us, but we'll have to ask you to
leave the premises, thank you"
Magoun yelled at them, "You'll never kill me"
One of the lumberjacks in the Blue Jays toque replied, "Kill
you who do you think we are the Soprano's? We're Canadian Mafia,
you can't stop us anyway"
"We'll go," I said, "We'll go," then they
lead us up the stairs to the parking lot and when we drove past
the gate they yelled after, us "Thank you, and have a nice
day"
We returned to my new apartment which although I hadn't changed
my address still had mail. One was a pay check form the lab that
my wife worked at but doesn't exist anymore. The second a package
saying Happy Birthday from Aunt Millie which was late and mis-delivered.
Considering it was well past February 30 and I didn't have an
aunt Millie. I opened it to find an ugly tie and sweater, which
I promptly trashed.
After climbing the two floors up I welcomed Magoun into my place
and told him to make himself at home while I got us something
to drink to help us think. I checked the fridge and was surprised
to find it stocked with Molson. Coming back into the living room
I see Magoun has neglected the couch in favour of no visible means
of support. Handing him a beer I settled on the couch and started
thinking
I, We including Magoun now have a reason the "Luck Bomb"
who knows perhaps they had a bad luck meltdown. I don't know but
we will not give up until we find Jane and Magoun's pornography.
If you will excuse me now, the entry is complete and I got to
go get Magoun a beer he's getting low, literally.
<>Hello, I am John Deer Doe and this is
the next entry in my diary. My wife is still missing and so is
brother Magoun's pornography. The last thing that I can remember
is that I drank too much. This is when I passed out and promptly
lost consciousness. I figured this out after several hours of
unconscious and conscious debate.
I woke up and noticed that brother Magoun was gone and went to
the fridge, getting a Molson out. I noticed that the number of
beers in the fridge had not gone down but had rather increased.
I saw that on my fridge was a note, presumably from brother Magoun
as I cannot write traditional Chinese.
After several minute of intense deliberation I found that I could
read traditional Chinese providing I turned it ninety degrees
to the right. Armed with this relevant bit of knowledge I quickly
discerned that brother Magoun went to the beach. Just as I found
this out, there was a loud thud at the door. This was followed
by the ringing of a bike bell and the sound of furious peddling.
I correctly guessed the paper came. Ignoring this I finished getting
ready.
I after finishing my beer showered and left to find the beach.
Upon stepping out of the door I quickly played footsies with the
newspaper, which being a conservative paper handily landed me
on my face. To my surprise a Viking helped me to my feet and said
"you really ought to be more careful." Thanking him
to conceal my surprise I walked down the hall. Before I always
thought the Viking was rather snobbish and wouldn't help a quadriplegic
in the middle of the interstate.
On my way to the parking lot I read an aptly named article on
how a local DJ Stella Back had her equipment stolen and late yesterday
returned in time for her show. Wondering if the paper would face
a lawsuit over the title I got into my car and started looking
for the beach.
I drove for close to an hour futilely looking for the beach. After
this time I noticed the despairingly regular sign alongside the
road which had said every mile for the last ten minuets, The Beach
turn left. By the time I realised this and reading the new sign
I promptly drove past the turn. Not wanting to turn around I kept
driving thinking that there would probably be another turn-off
ahead. Speeding up I drove on and saw the next turn off and promptly
drove past it. Seeing no place to turn I drove on thinking that
for sure that there would be another turn-off. After a few seconds
I slowed and begun turning into the turn off only to see it leads
to Miami. Pulling an U-turn, I turned around just in time to see
a cop furiously waving at me.
I pulled over to the side of the road with my head resting of
my steering wheel, cursing over my stupidity. After five minutes
I ran out of swear words and things on the list of things that
I don't think are humanly possible. Putting my head up the road
was empty. I carefully drove on expecting to be pulled over at
any time and took the first right.
I quickly reached the beach, which was empty as normal. The blue
water and white sand completely freaked out any native New Yorker
so bad that they positively rejoiced to see grimy sidewalks, and
rancid air. I wondered what the zoning was to have a beach in
the middle of New York, and started looking for Brother Magoun.
I wandered around looking for signs of Magoun for a half an hour.
I was still no closer to knowing the zoning for the area when
I saw brother Magoun surfing in a red lotus pattern shirt on with
imitation genuine faux pearl buttons, and a pair of red shorts
coming to his knees. He was apparently unhampered by his apparent
lack of a surfboard. This is when I noticed a rather large lumberjack
with a double-barrelled shotgun.
At this time several things were going through my mind. First
of all where did you get a zoning permit for a beach in New York
and how much did it cost. Secondly that this lumber jack was going
to shot Magoun. Thirdly that brother Magoun had not noticed either
of us yet.
This is when I did quite possibly the stupidest thing in my life.
I tackled a Canadian who was several sizes larger than me while
he was hunting. What made this even more dangerous was the fact
that I had no hunter orange on.
The shot rang out.
Then there was an echo from the ocean so the shot rang out again.
It echoed off the building and promptly rang out again.
With this brother Magoun noticed us and wondering who was doing
all the ringing, stopped surfing and started swimming for the
shore. I was still mangled with the rather large Canadian while
Magoun made for the shore. Although I caused the would be assassin
to miss his first shot, I had no idea the shot would have such
an effect on the passing seagulls. Brother Magoun almost lost
his life for a second time when he just barely dodged several
dead gulls dropping beak down into the ocean like fianchetto
By this time the large Canadian had disentangled himself from
me and had in fact re- tangled me in the process. He was about
to repeat this procedure when Magoun made it to the beach and
the Canadian promptly left. Thanking him, I said, "Who was
that lumberjack?"
Magoun said by the name tag I ripped off during our scuffle that
he was Mr. Bunion and a member of the Canadian mafia. He then
asked me where I receive my yoga training.
I replied, "No where"
He said, "Yes I've heard of this place, it seems like a fine
school."
I thanked him then for getting rid of that fellow.
This is when Magoun asked if I would like to repay the favour.
I quickly not wanting to seem ungrateful said yes.
This is when Magoun said, "Okay you take care of this batch
of the mafia." Pointing to the far parking lot at three fellows,
who had joined the large Canadian. It looked like they formed
a majority of the clientele at big, tall, and psychopathic.
This is when we did the perfectly acceptable thing and ran or
perhaps I should say I ran and Magoun flew. When we saw the large
flamenco dance club. The bouncers at the door where Jamaican but
according to the sign it was owned by the French-speaking English
of German ancestry. We quickly ducked into the crowds and tried
to fit in. However, the lake of a bare midriff and some Spanish
style hats set us apart. The Canadian mafia would have no problem
finding us but for some reason they hadn't entered yet. I started
nervously looking around for another exit. I was halfway done
when the Canadian Mafia entered. Spotting us immediately they
started for us.
This is when Old Hell broke Loose.
Old Hell was of course the code name for the fellowship of Intergalactic
Haitian Guerrillas for World Peace( F.I.H.G.F.W.P.) task force
which had just broken through the French-speaking English of German
Ancestry Worldly Defence Line (F.S.E.G.A.W.D.L.) Code named Loose.
However the real pickle or perhaps a pickled hot pepper was the
fact that the Canadian Mafia was currently engaged in a gang war
with both of these organisations. All of a sudden the dance club
idea seemed a whole lot less like a good idea. There was a three-way
gun fight, a man beckoning me to come closer and an empty dance
floor.
I noticed that the man who was beckoning me before had now in
fact walked up to Magoun and said. "My name is Groin Loincloff
and I'm with the Keepers of the Sacred Chaos and the Barbarian
Illuminati. I presume you're John Deer Doe and Brother Magoun"
"Yes" I said, looking at Magoun and said, "Friend
of yours?"
"No," he said.
"I'm here to get you out of here," said Groin Loincloff.
"The check is in the ground."
Magoun said, "He's a friend of mine now"
I replied my similar sentiment and said, "lets go" Groin
Loincloff replied that the check was for $3125."
Appreciating this the three of us went into the back of the club
and into the ally way behind. At this time all the light in the
flamenco club disappeared and the entire structure collapsed into
a small black hole which promptly dissolved.
Groin said, "Blasted Haitians, if they can't win a fight
they drop a blasted black hole into the place.” At this time
he promptly spit.
Looking at those other two, I asked, "what next?"
The other two looked at each other and then looked at me. Then
they looked at each other again and looked at me. Then they shrugged.
Then Magoun yelled, "That's my pornography." I and Groin
sat looking at each other until we saw a shady looking fellow
selling pornography who was looking around. His eyes just settled
on us when Magoun yelled again, "Stop, pornography thief!” The
thief started for the parking lot with the three of us behind.
The thief got on his bicycle with Magoun's pornography in a tote.
The three of us ran to my car which promptly refused to start.
Groin got out and said I'll fix it. He got out, cursing put up
the hood. He then vehemently cursed in Russian and kicked the
tire. He then got in and said, "Try it." I turned the
key and to my surprise it took right off.
Catching up to the fellow, we followed for ten minutes unsure
of what to do. Then the fellow got off his bike and got on a red
double decker bus. We parked the car ahead of the bus and when
the bus came late as usual jumped on. We just about had him when
I was unable to resist my temptation and licked the bus. The bus
was indeed beef-flavoured but the conductor being a vegetarian
was naturally unhappy about my licking of his bus. It was then
that he kicked us off the bus with another suggestion that I added
onto my list of things I'm not sure are humanly possible.
Stopping a near by moped I yelled, "I'm commandeering this
vehicle” the fellow shock his head and said all you had to
do is ask, he got off. Climbing onto the moped, I noticed that
Groin had walked off in a completely different direction. I speed
off as Magoun assumed the Lotus position while holding out a large
sticker and plate. I was surprised that after several minutes
on the moped Magoun had caught up and passed me. On the back of
his shirt the sticker, a bumper sticker it turned out to be, was
stuck to the bottom of a license plate. The Plate said, XBOO DIS
and the sticker said, Let Big breaths be Big breaths and Small
breaths be Small. Just don't hold your breath while waiting for
me to let you pass.
While I read this I noticed the pornography thief had gotten off
the Bus and was running to a familiar fence with familiar guards.
I and Magoun noticed this and stopped. I comforted Magoun by saying,
"Don't worry we'll come back for your pornography. Who knows
maybe my fiancé is connected to this?" After this I got off
the moped and Magoun gave me a lift back to my car. From there
we drove back to my place.
Walking into my lobby, I noticed that there was a large herd of
Gnu there. Glancing around we saw the remnants of the Viking presumably
the same one who helped me up this morning as his family was visiting
relatives in Miami. We then decided to be very careful indeed
as we wormed our way through the animals. Reaching the elevator
we found no respite as that too was full of Gnus. We carefully
worked our way in and to our dismay found that some gnu had pressed
all the buttons on the panel. Just to make sure I pressed the
second floor button several times just to make sure. We then settled
in for a cramped and odorous ride up, down, up, down and after
a long ride and reading the gnus we reached the second floor.
Sitting back in my place with the mail and to my surprise Brother
Magoun was in fact sitting with a visible means of support namely
a couch. Flipping through my mail there was a now familiar pay check
and a funny shaped package. This one also said Happy Birthday
from Aunt Millie but was again on the wrong day and mis-delivered.
However to give them some credit it was a different aunt Millie.
Inside it though was another ugly tie and an even uglier sweater.
Putting these tenderly in the trash, I and Magoun started planning
our raid back into the Canadian Mafia Headquarters
Today we had skipped to meal using the all-purpose liquid substitute
( Barley ethyl energy refreshment {B.E.E.R.}) instead so I and
Magoun ordered a pizza and some beer nuts to dry up our beer on
the way down. This came in five minutes and the Pizza boy actually
refused the tip. Which was good considering I had several hundred
Jamaican dollars just for these occasions. After our meal we went
into the big box stores and bought several big boxes. Ready for
our raid tomorrow I went to sleep with Magoun sleeping several
feet above the floor, apparently recharged from his race today.
I woke to the sound of a paper hitting the door. I put on pants
and a T-shirt to get the paper and once again tripped over the
paper before picking it up. unfortunately a family of nudist seen
this and were apparently shocked and dismayed at my apparent lack
of lack of clothing. They quickly covered their children's eyes
and hurriedly went back into their apartment muttering about the
indecency of it all.
Walking back into my apartment I found that Magoun was again missing.
This mystery was soon solved by the flushing of a toilet and Magoun
coming out of the bathroom pulling his shirt out of his shorts.
He said, "Are you ready" and after studying this ingenious
riddle carefully said, "one plus one is three." Magoun
then said, "You are ready" We ate a quick breakfast
of beer and cold pizza and left. I was surprised by the thick
carpet of flowers on the floor of the lobby. What can you say
it makes the flowers grow and isn't that beautiful.
We loaded the big box into my car and drove to the headquarters
of The Canadian Mafia. After cruising past the eyesight of the
guards and got into our parkas. We then put the skies on our back
and walked out to the gate. I then said, "Excuse us, we just
got back from our vacation can we get in"
"The Guards said, "Sorry about that, let me get your
skies and kit."
We nervously gave our kit to the lumberjack and entered. Then
the guard yelled out. "You'd never use red country sky wax
on alpine skies, impostors."
This is when we promptly ran into the building. After successfully
losing the Canadians by a clever ruse, we didn't take off our
shoes and they presumed we were outside. We went up stairs to
the second floor. This is where we got lost and after five minutes
of following our trails back and getting lost backwards we ran
into none other than Groin Loincloff.
"If you want to find the head of the Canadian Mafia follow
me.”, He said.
So we followed him into a hall and passed innumerable water fountains
until we reached a special one. Then Groin pulled a lever and
the wall gave way. It was a secret door! We carefully continued
until we found a sparse office and heard a thin voice yelling.
"What do you mean you haven't found them! Find them"
"I did what was quite possible the second stupidest thing
I ever done confronted the voice to find it belonged to a 13-year-old
"What," I said, "you're just a kid!"
"I'm thirteen thank you very much," said an indignant
youngster ruffling his eyebrows.
"How did you get into the Mafia?" I said.
"We'll when my seventeen-year-old brother was founding a
dot.com company I founded the Canadian mafia, what's it to you"
"Where is my fiancé"
"Jane Doe"
"Yes," and then Magoun broke in, "Where's my Pornography"
"Your wife worked o Pot Luck didn't she" said the boy
"Yes"
"I don't know I was trying to steal the weapon but one of
my operatives failed and instead stole brother Magoun's Pornography.
This instigated a reversal of the cause effect duality and created
the theoretically impossible Bad luck melt down. Your wife had
the radiation all over her she would have been one of the ones
first affected"
"Where is my pornography" came Brother Magoun's impassioned
plea.
" Somehow in Brother Magoun Pornography came instructions
on how to control the melt down," then a large number of
lumberjacks responded to the emergency button the boy was secretly
pressing the whole time. "Don't worry Magoun I'll have your
pornography soon Ah ha ha," said the boy and then very self
consciously ruffling his eyebrows asked. "Does this make
me look viler?"
I replied, "Yes, Yes it does"
Then the boy head of the Canadian Mafia started cackling madly,
"take them away ah ha ha take them away" After a split
second where he paused to ruffle his eyebrows again he asked,
"Really?" and I replied, "No not really?"
At this he cackled madly and yelled, "Take them away"
The lumber jacks took us out to the parking lot when Magoun floated
out of his parka and freed me by lifting up my guards until I
slipped out the bottom of my parka. We then made a mad dash for
the gate and the made a mad dash to the car and drove off with
the Canadians shooting at us.
Now we might know why the bad luck melt down happened. Could something
as sinister as this come out of that boys mind? Could Brother
Magoun's pornography really be the key to it all? Where is and
what happened to Jane? I don't know the answers to these question
but do know that we won't stop looking for my fiancé and for Magoun's
Pornography. We have a new ally in the war against the Canadian
mafia. Who is Groin Loincloff? I don't know. All I know is that
this is the end of another entry and that I'm getting us some
Molson’s from the fridge right now.
<>Hello, I am John Deer Doe and this is
the next entry in my diary. The last thing I remember is being
thankful for being a cheap drunk . Just before that I was wondering
if Brother Magoun would hit his head on the ceiling.
I woke up the next morning feeling really wonderful from a night
or twenty minuets or so of well spent drinking.
At this time I felt the urgent need for my daily bowel movement,
which I had been delaying several days. I walked into the hallway
just in front of my bathroom to my surprise an elderly, prim secretary
with an immense bun of grey hair was setting in front of my bathroom
in a hideously gilded oak receptionist desk. She unhurriedly put
down her nail file and the telephone receiver after a quick, "I'll
call back." She looked up with large grand motherly eyes
and asked, " Do you have an appointment?"
I said, "No". Thinking back I realise this was my biggest
mistake.
The secretary, Mrs. Spinster by the name plate on her desk, started
rifling through paper and folders on her desk. She started saying
she probably couldn't fit me in for another three days.
I , now under sever internal and external pressure gave in to
a critical neutron count and went nuclear.
I was yelling at this women asking, "Who the hell do you
think you are!" She was trying to prevent me from entering
the washroom. She was doing a very good job of this all the while
she was yelling at me threatening to call security and telling
me to do something humanly impossible.
I stopped for a moment and checked the ever present list of things
that are humanly impossible and after careful inspection added
another entry.
While all this was going on we were oblivious to Magoun yelling
my name at the top of his longs in what sounded like a drunk's
mantra. Cursing the women again I broke down crying saying, "All
I wanted was a daily bowel movement."
As she heard this she returned to her desk and asked , "are
you John Deer Doe?" I looked up, hiccoughed and said yes.
"Good," she said, "You are two days late, one day
late, and right on time for your daily bowel movement, go on in."
Hurriedly I raced in and dropped my pants. After twenty of intense
pain I looked back and wondered what a mason would think of this.
Then a got out my list and crossed of another entry. Soon I would
have to start a list of things the are humanly possible but not
commonly done. Then I thought what news of this would do to the
building material marked.
On my way out I tipped my hat which I had neglected to put on
my head to the secretary and collided into Brother Magoun.
Magoun looked flustered and I asked him what was wrong. He looked
up and said I was missing. At this time I got scared and fearfully
asked, "Where am I?" This is when Brother Magoun said,
"I was here." Both of us satisfied we got up and went
to the kitchen.
Magoun said we have to find my pornography. The I said, "We
have to find Jane." These two things confirmed we sat around
waiting form what would happen next, to happen.
This is when the roar of a Harley-Davidson came down the hall
and the sound of a paper hitting my door with the force, a discus
thrower would be proud of. Magoun said, " Kids these days
sure grow up fast."
I opened the door and very carefully stepped over the paper to
avoid doing what I had done without fail for the past two days.
This is when I fell on my face as I tripped over a box from Aunt
Millie saying Happy Birthday on the outside, as well as two letters.
One from the government and one in a plain envelope. Gathering
all this and myself up, I went inside.
Looking at the box, I opened it and found another ugly tie and
another ugly sweater from another Aunt Millie on another day that
is not my birthday. These things I promptly trashed. One of the
envelopes contained a check for a women that had disappeared from
a job that never existed. Putting the check on the growing pile
I began to open the plain envelope . As I did this Magoun routed
through the trash and dragged out the tie which went perfectly
with his Blue and white Buddha print shirt. To my amazement at
his discovery he sagaciously said , "Bitching Threads."
I read the letter which was wrote with a fine hand, or I hope
so because I was beginning to get a little aroused over it. Brother
Magoun put the tie on when I saw who it was from and quickly stopped
that train of thought.
Telling Magoun to read this I looked around in amazement. The
letter said;
<>John Deer, Mr Doe and Brother Magoun,
The Canadian Mafia shall acquire Brother Magoun's Pornography
today at 7 PM as the San Francisco Bowling Alley.
<>Groin Loincloff
<>Looking at the clock witch read almost
one in the afternoon, I said, "There's no way we can make
it to San Francisco in six hours.
Brother Magoun looked up and wisely said, "The San Francisco
Bowling Alley is not in San Francisco." I looked at him and
replied my personal mantra of, "Oh" . I then asked him
where the bowling alley was. He said, "San Francisco and
New York". This is where I spake my mantra again. I then
asked, "How?" And he with the benevolent air of the
Buddha or Ex-Buddha said, "Through the Quantum Psychics theory
of Enmanglement." I once more used my ever popular mantra
which I promptly retired after three days of good service. "Yeah,"
said Brother Magoun , "it just reopened after that earthquake."
Dazed I asked Brother Magoun, "So what are we going to do
now." Magoun smiling said, "Go shopping. "
After grabbing my jacket, we walked to the end of the hallway.
I pressed the button to go down and the doors opened onto a small
disco. Pushing in after receiving the nod from one of the immensely
strong Jamaican Bouncers. I pressed the button for the lobby and
settled in for a elevator ride on the town . Two martinis extra
wet and three hours later we finally reached the bottom floor.
Staggering out I asked Brother Magoun what he found out. After
reciting the telephone numbers of twenty-three very good looking
girls he said, "I also found where the bowling alley is:
at the corner of California and Pacific Avenue."
Outside by my car I dropped my keys and saw the Ladies Auxiliary
of the people against the public licking of things (L.A. of P.A.T.P.L.O.T.).
At this time, much to the disgust of the gentlemen of the Ladies
Auxiliary, I licked the parking meter and once again found out
a large number of things are beef flavoured including; Doors,
Double Decker Buses, and to my surprise Parking Meters. I had
always thought they'd be Onion flavoured.
After an eventful hour at Brother Magoun's Favourite shop the
Surf and Pimp. Two sets of Birth Control glasses ( glasses so
ugly women won't conceive when you wear them.) And as feathered
boa later we set for the bowling alley.
On our way we passed an industrial maul and wondered what the
Police would think of all that nudity on conveyer belts. Sadly
Industrial people are not the best looking so we quickly drove
on. Pity the maul security.
Entering the San Francisco Bowling alley which was in the year
of our Board 1958 and ½. Asking Brother Magoun about this
he said it was the right year. Accepting this we sat down alone
in the small cafeteria except for two young men( one a Mormon)
and the head of the Canadian Mafia busily ruffling his eyebrows.
The disguises worked and we watched the full alleys. We had just
finished our Coffee when the leader of the Mischief Gods got a
66 -6 split at hundred pin bowling. This put them ahead of the
Judo-Christian Gods and Angels, who were playing for the right
to go to Ol' Limbo Peak for the championships. This is when two
people entered the bowling alley one tagging a ways behind the
other.
One was the shifty Pornography seller. Brother Magoun started
up but I stopped him at a motion from Groin Loincloff, who was
the man following him.
The Porno-Man went to the leader of the Canadian Mafia, who had
just stopped ruffling his eyebrows and was just about to pass
him the pornography when one of the young men (not the Mormon)
said, "Chaos and Strife are the roots of all Confusion."
This is when Old Shit hit The Fan. Old Shit being the French speaking
English of German ancestry (FSEOGA) assassination attempt on the
leader of the Canadian Mafia. The Attempt consisted of a huge
old Chimpanzee wired to blow up when he was close enough. The
Fan was the Fellowship of Intergalactic Haitian Guerrillas for
World Peace ( F.I.H.G.F.W.P.) Protection force which had just
defected to the Canadian Mafia.
Fairy dust floated up from the floor and then the room went dark.
I looked around and saw Jane walking towards me. I grabbed Brother
Magoun and turned around to see Jane put a scroll into the chimpanzees
hands. Neither of the young man had noticed any of this yet. Jane
came over and sat down beside me and said, "Wait and watch."
Then came a flash of intense light. We were frozen but saw everything.
The Chimpanzee went not to the head of the Canadian Mafia but
to the two young men. It said, "Gentlemen, why does Pickering's
moon go about in reverse orbit? Gentlemen, there are nipples on
your chest do you give milk? And what, pray tell gentlemen is
to be done about Heisenberg's Law?" The great shaggy Chimpanzee
paused, "Somebody had to put all this confusion here!"
With this he revealed the scroll to the two young men and then
exploded, knocking the two young men out cold.
Jane turned to me and we were unfroze. Things had changed the
date was 1958 not 3125 not 1958 and ½ in the year of our
board just 1958.The leader of the Canadian mafia was gone. He
didn't leave he just vanished. Brother Magoun's Pornography was
Gone. The bowling lanes were empty. Brother Magoun's pornography
in gone. Brother Magoun asked Jane very weakly, "Where is
my pornography?" Jane replied, "The World is not ready
yet for your pornography Brother Magoun. I could not have your
Pornography fall into the wrong hands. I had to destroy your pornography.
I am so sorry for you."
Magoun accepted this with as stiff an upper lip as could be expected
and excused himself to mourn the loss of his pornography leaving
me and Jane alone except for Groin Loincloff, ignoring him I asked
Jane, " How , what happened , did you do all that? Who are
you?
Jane smiled and changed into a splendid woman whose eyes were
as soft as feather and as deep as eternity itself, and whose body
was the spectacular dance of atoms and universes. Pyrotechnics
of pure energy formed her flowing hair, and rainbows manifested
and dissolved as she spoke in a warm and gentle voice, "I
am chaos. I am the substance from which your artists and scientists
build rhythms. I am the spirit with which your children and clowns
laugh in happy anarchy. I am chaos. I am Eris Kalisti Discordia
and I am your Fiancé. She gestured to the two young asleep men.
"They will learn that in time". Groin Loincloff walked
up to us and said, "time is short."
I asked him who he really was and he said, " I am St. Gulik
and a cockroach."
Jane said , "I am Jane and I love you. I am Eris and I love
you" with that another great flash of light as if all the
suns in all the worlds went nova at once and after that things
got even weirder. For more information consult your pineal gland.
(Cosmic Channel #5.)
How many times was the word fiancé used?
23