Bar time. Time to drink up. I eye Jenny from over
my drink. She is reaching up to change a channel on the TV. She looks like one of those
carved prows on a great Clipper ship. Boy do I like boarding that ship! And those tight
jeans...damn!
Hi, my name is the holy man and I'm madly in love. Actually my name is
Fred, some of you may have seen me on your systems. Some might have even Taken
My Name In Vain...I hope so...then you know my last name...no matter,
people hereabouts call me the holy man, so that's what it will be.
Nice place this bar and restaurant...a fellow can drink in peace...a
beautiful woman to go home with...I pour myself another drink, have to "leave"
tonight. I have my own bottle. Not whiskey at all, but it is alcohol. Most herbs aren't
soluble in water. This valley sacred before the dam was built, still many of the
"correct things" growing on these slopes, some even just outside this door.
I feign a slur, a drunken comradre. A holy man has to be a good actor,
comes w/ the territory. Not acting when it comes to Jenny though, not even close. She's
got my nickel. A band is starting up, a kicker band, "Sons of the Primal
Fears." All guys, half middle-aged and grossly fat, clothes two sizes too tight, and
the rest young and skinny as rails. Singing a rendition of the current hit "Mama
smells like an Old Rodeo" but in some weird minor key...and 3/4 time! They are pretty
bad, I fade them out. Gotta drink up, gotta 'leave" tonight. DeeDee
goes by, that woman has a veneer like granite, can't hack her dreams no matter how hard I
try. Can barely break into Al's. Losing my touch, or
something...something...I saw her make "Contact", yes, time to
"leave". I know who the "Target" is also, been monitoring Monsanto
stock for a week. Taking random headlines out of the paper. And the "Contact"? Major D himself. Figures...
Drink up.Watch my lady work. Think good thoughts...time to
"leave" soon.
