CHAPTER—1

CONSPIRATORIAL

Eight egotistical NYU graduate students promised to get one of their classmates some of the best sex of his life just before the big graduation day. The woman they promised to set him up with, a true knockout with charm and wit, awaited him inside some cheap motel just a short borough from the NYU campus. The major lowlife player in the prank was Anthony Greenstein. At five-foot-ten and a hundred and sixty pounds, Anthony was the proud owner of a lean and muscularly frame, highlighted by glistening blue eyes and a clear, robust complexion.
A head of thick black hair accented his boyish good looks. Never would Anthony shed the arrogant demeanor he’d been groom to carry through life. He enlisted the services of another major prankster named Megan Piccirillo. Megan had to be one of the cutest Italian girls in all of New York City. With a body to put a Greek goddess to shame, she loved shaking her long black hair with thick roots from side-to side. Her natural olive skin glowed like a setting Carribean sun. Anthony and Megan decided to pick out some old motel right at 720 East 33rd Street in the Bronx. The name of this rathole was called The American Shore Motor Lodge. The neighborhood was beyond bad. The people were much worse. Drugs and prostitution and murder flourished. Total disenfranchisement ruled the atmosphere. Gunshots suddenly erupted from in front of a rundown building just across the street. Another drug deal in the Bronx, New York had gone sour.
Four masked gunmen pumped a volley of slugs into a slickster who’d thought he’d gotten away with stealing their drugs and money. The price some silly fools had to pay. For such an affront, it was business-as-usual in this particular section of the South Bronx. Another body was sprawled out in the street in his own pool of blood. Long after neighbors peeked out their windows, someone decided to call nine-one-one. Forty minutes would be the maximum time before police arrived to process the murder scene.
Anthony and Megan were scrupulously cautious of being robbed or losing their lives. The gunshots were heard quite clearly from inside the room they stood. Emergency vehicle lights spilled into every residential and business window within the vicinity. The hotel room Anthony and Megan occupied was infested with the biggest rats and cockroaches. Large ratholes were chewed into the adjacent walls. Final arrangements were made to make the prank a success. Coming from a wealthy Jewish background, Anthony had no problems paying for the room. He threw in a little extra to make some of the disgusting hotel undesirables disappear.
“Anthony, what was the shooting outside all about?” Megan asked Anthony, frightened from the unexpected outburst of violence.
“This is the Bronx, sweetie,” Anthony nodded his head. “Anything goes in this borough.”
“Think it had something to do with drugs?”
“Dope, money, territory, take your pick.”
“All of Manhattan isn’t exactly pristine.”
“You’re right, Meg. Manhattan isn’t exactly a borough to raise priests and choir boys.”
“Maybe we should’ve came with some extra added security.”
The chaos out on the nearby street had escalated. The street dwellers only wanted to heat things up by arguing with the NYPD and other neighbors.
“Meg, do you remember what to do?” Anthony asked Megan, speaking to her as though they’d rehearsed for a major Broadway play.
“Like clockwork, Anthony,” Megan responded, eager to play out her part.
“Stuart should be here shortly.”
“Who’s driving him over here in the Bronx?”
“Taylor and John are bringing him here.”
“And to think, graduation is only three weeks away.”
“Having this kinda fun before getting our diplomas is cool.”
“Gosh, I wonder if we’ll ever see one another again?” Megan questioned Anthony, sad they’d eventually go separate directions.
“I’m sure we’ll all keep in touch.”
Megan hummed to Anthony. “You know, Anthony, Stuart has got to be one of the weirdest guys I’ve ever known.”
“Weird doesn’t even begin to describe Stuart,” Anthony examined. “That guy would rather fool around with a bunch of animals than spend an intimate evening with a woman.”
“He’s like the Dr. Doolittle of the Twenty-First Century.”
“Alright, let me hear that seductive voice of your’s.”
Megan cleared her throat. She massaged her neck with her three middle fingers. “Hey, Stuart, come closer to the bed, baby.”
“What else?”
“Don’t be shy, Stuart. I won’t bite you, I promise.”
“And after that?”
“C’mon, Stuart, get over here and get some of this good stuff.”
Anthony snapped his fingers with aggression. “Perfect, Megan! You’ll do great.”
“Trust, I have the kinda voice that’ll charm Wall Street brokers out of billions.”
Anthony and Megan stepped over by the king-sized bed and pulled the covers back. Underneath was a Centerfold Fantasy Love Doll by Topco Sales.
“Must say, she’s a beauty,” Anthony approved, proud of the sex doll he’d handpicked.
“She’s every horny, dorky, nerdy and lonely guy’s dream.”
“There’s none finer. She’s got curves to even put your body to shame.”
“Her measurements are a perfect 36C bust, 24 waistline, and a 36 hips.”
“No man couldn’t ask for more. How tall is this beauty?”
“A lean and trim five-feet-seven,” Megan chuckled, looking down at the masterpiece of a mechanical sex doll. “Now, I’m jealous of a doll that’s not even living or breathing.”
“I made sure it came with remote control features.”
“How technological of you.”
An irritable squealing noise shot from one of the corners of the room. The noise suddenly sent Anthony into a wild frenzy of fright. The sound of a creature in search of a meal resonated deeper into the room.
“What the hell’s that?” Anthony inquired of Megan, chills jolting through him.
“Doesn’t sound like anything we’d be interested in,” Megan feared, clamping the arms of Anthony with her icy cold hands.
“This room is starting to give me the creeps.”
“Must I remind you what borough of New York City we’re in?”
The biggest rat one could’ve imagined jumped on top of a night table. The critter stood right up on it’s hind legs. It’s razor-sharp teeth flashed right before Anthony and Megan. A pair of menacing, glowing eyes stared straight at Anthony, like he’d owed him some big money.
“Where’d that big giant rodent come from!” Anthony cried out, his back literally to the wall. “Megan, I hate rats! I hate them! I hate them! I hate them!”
“Anthony, this is New York City. What the hell did you expect?”
Megan reminded her classmate how New York City was flooded with big rats. Food and garbage were plentiful to keep them growing larger and larger.
“The Greenstein household has never had to deal with living around huge rodents.”
“Welcome to the real world.”
“Rats turn my stomach inside out. They carry real nasty diseases.”
“Anthony, let’s finish setting up here in the room. John and Taylor are gonna be bringing Stuart over real soon.”
“Rats just give me the------.”
“Anthony!” Megan fizzled, stopping him in mid-sentence. “I hate ants, buddy. Always have and always will. Ants have given me the creeps since I was a little girl. You surprise me by acting like you’ve never seen a big rat. When our ancestors got off the boats here in New York, the rats got off with them. Now, let’s finish getting things set up.”
The humongous rat seemed to have disappeared into thin air. Walking into the low lit room was another prankster in the major plot. Dana Potts strutted across the room with her mouthwatering hips. Her lucious curvy backside swung any direction it desired. Quite sexy and attractive, she couldn’t’ve been prouder of her mocha brown skin and her shimmering hazel eyes. Being a mixture of Nigerian, Brazilian, and French, she had to be one of the finest specimens from the female gender.
“Got the goods?” Anthony asked Dana, staring up and down the walls and ceiling with weary eyes.
“Paranoid, Anthony?” Dana smiled, holding a large brown sack in her left hand.
“One of the biggest rats in all of New York City was just in this room. There’s a hole in one of these walls the size of a bank vault. Like I told Megan, I hate rats more than anything on this Earth.”
“Better call the Pied Piper,” Dana joked, sliding the medium-sized bag to the floor.
“I’d call a thousand of them if I could. I’d give up the Greenstein fortune to rid the world of every single one of them things.”
Dana added more into the brief conversation. “Anthony hates rats and I simply hate bees. My grandmother had a farm way off in the country. Talk about bees, there were thousands and thousands of them around that farm.”
“Now, we know one another’s phobias,” Megan clarified to her fellow classmates. “Anthony hates rats, Dana hates bees, and I hate ants. Everybody’s got a fear of something. Dana, I see you came in with the bag that we requested.”
“All twenty pounds of it.”
Dana did her part to help complete the prank designed exclusively with Stuart Duffelmeyer in mind. She lifted the bag into the air. A hole the size of a dime was punched at one of the corners. A couple of fresh maggots crawled out.
“Where’d you get those creepy-crawly things?” Anthony questioned Dana, twisting all about in the face.
“Will’s Bait and Tackle Shop in Queens.”
“Eeeeeky!” Anthony shivered. “Take a guess, about how many of those slimy things are in that bag?”
“The owner at Will’s told me that there are thousands of them inside this bag.”
Anthony stepped over to the bed. He pulled the covers further down the frame of the sex doll. An episode of surprise filled the eyes of Dana. “Where’d you guys get her from?”
“One of the best sex shops in all of Brooklyn.”
“You’ve got real taste. She’s certainly a beauty.”
“Stuart won’t have any complaints.”
“That is, until Stuart sees his dreamgirl is only a fantasy girl.”
A fourth conspirator walked into the sleezy motel room. She held a bucket in her hand. Prudence Penelope Cundy was the name she’d been given. Prudence had the looks of your typical average woman, still able to turn a few heads only on her best days. She kept her body slim. Feathery red hair and those cute little red freckles around her nose were the highlights of her average looks. Those with wrecked dental works would’ve killed to have her straight, gleaming white teeth.
“Where we stand, guys?” Prudence inquired of her other three co-conspirators. She looked over in one of the corners at the wide rathole.
Anthony hummed while he looked around the room. “It’s like this, Miss Prudence. Megan has her voice tuned to perfection. She sounds good enough to charm a billionaire right out of his life savings. Dana brought us the bag of creepy-crawly little things.”
“The maggots?”
“Oh yeah, the disgusting white slimy maggots.”
“Did you get what you were supposed to get?”
Anthony rolled back the padded covers on the bed. “Tahhhhh dahhhhh! What’cha think, Miss Prudence Cundy?”
“Must say she’s a true beauty.”
“Like I told Megan and Dana, the best any porn shop in Brooklyn had to offer.”
“Bet she cost a pretty penny.”
“A few bucks.”
More gunshots rung out within a much closer proximity. This put a huge fright on Megan and Dana and Prudence. A bullet completely shattered the window of a motel room right next door. The party of four hit the ground and sheltered themselves with only their arms.
“Whoa!” Prudence chanted with caution. “What the heck was that?”
“Prudence, welcome to the American Shore Motor Lodge at 33rd Street in the South Bronx,” Anthony scrutinized. “There’s enough dope being peddled around here to put every street pharmaceutical out of business. There’re enough guns in this part of the Bronx to put the entire Middle East to shame. Darling, this very motel complex is filled with everything under the sun.”
“But why pick out a rathole like this?” Prudence detested, growing scarier by the minute.
“Should I have picked out The Waldorf Astoria or The Hilton or The Ritz-Carlton?”
“Not necessarily.”
“Any of those upscale hotels in Manhattan would’ve been too risky. Did you bring what you were supposed to bring?”
Prudence stepped over by the door and lifted up a twenty gallon bucket. “Everything’s right here in this bucket.”
She raised the bucket up to waist-level. Anthony smiled and rotated the container in a three-sixty formation. “The slicker, the slimier, the better. This crap is slippery enough to make King Kong fall on his backside. Where’d you get it from?”
“At a hardware store over in Queens. My friend’s dad has an account there.”
The contents inside the bucket was a grayish slimy compound used to help seal up holes in walls and floors and the concrete. Anthony jerked his head from the floor to the ceiling and around the walls. Paranoia had gotten the best of him.
“Anthony, what’s the matter with you?” Prudence wondered, watching the master plotter breathe heavy and break out into a mild, cold sweat.
“This very room gives me the creeps. In case you didn’t know, rats, especially the really big ones, drives me nuts. I just saw one with big glowing eyes.”
“You’re from New York, Anthony. New Yorkers can’t help but have a fear of big rats. They’ll bite a hole into you the size of The Grand Canyon.”
“You’re right, Prudence. Us New Yorkers know about big rats.”
“I take it that big rats are your biggest fear, your number one phobia.”
“Yes they are!” Anthony spoke with tremor.
“Know what my biggest phobia is?”
“Tell me.”
“Bats.”
Anthony ceased from his brief tremor. He couldn’t believe what his ears had absorbed. “Did I hear you say that bats were your biggest phobia?”
“Yes.”
“Guess bats and rats can both be creepy.”
Megan didn’t quite digest what Prudence just told them. “Bats remind me of those old vampire movies.”
“Ironically, bats look like rats with wings.”
Dana belted out a strong giggle. “You guys, we’ve all got something that we’re in fear of. For example, I’m scared to death of bees. The little buzzing insects nearly have me jumping right out of my underwear everytime I see one or two or three or more.”
Megan conjured up her own worst living nightmare. “Ants are my biggest fear. Those little tiny critters send ice cold chills through my blood and spine. If I never see another one as long as I live, it’ll never be too soon.”
“Then, it’s official, guys,” Anthony affirmed. “I’m scared as hell of rats, especially the really big ones. Megan is scared as hell of ants. Dana is scared as hell of bees. Prudence is frightened out of her mind of bats. None of us would be human if we weren’t afraid of something. Does everybody know what they’re supposed to do?”
“Sure, I do,” Megan vindicated, her voice trained in preparation for the big prank. “My voice will be sweeter than cotton candy.”
“Dana, how about you?”
“The maggots will be crawling all under the sheets. They won’t be anywhere on top of the covers where he’ll be able to see them.”
“And you, Prudence?”
“The floor will be drenched with this slippery compound. Stuart will fall harder than he’s ever done.”
“I’ll be working the mechanical controls for the doll. Remember guys, we’ll all have to be working in unison with one another. Let’s get this prank over and done with, so we can enjoy a lifetime of something to laugh about.”
“Got that right, Anthony,” Megan agreed, eager to get the prank rolling. “We’ll sit around and tell our kids and friends about this prank.”
“Our friends and co-workers will be laughing their heads off when they hear about this,” Dana added, her hazel eyes looking like two glistening marbles.
Anthony pompously snapped his fingers. “I’ll be the one who’ll never use the term co-worker. No one with the Greenstein name will ever work for anyone else. That’s quite beneath my family. The Greensteins are natural born leaders, not born to be followers.”
Megan and Dana and Prudence knew they were in the presence of a young man with an ego bigger than the Chysler Building and The Empire State Building combined. The smaller people in life were of no account to him. They didn’t mind, knowing how throughout their college years, Anthony always picked up the tab for their conventional womanly and worldly desires.
“What’s the latest word on John and Taylor?” Prudence asked, her own safety issues of being in the South Bronx growing by the minute.
“They’ll be picking up Stuart from the pet shop in Manhattan.”
“Do they know the routine?”
“Like clockwork.”
Dana signaled to Anthony with a waving hand. “How about Abdullah and David?”
“What about them?”
“Do they also know the routine?”
Anthony released a gust of wind as though he’d grown tired of explaining himself. He couldn’t help it. It was just a part of his arrogant demeanor. “Guys, for the last time, John and Taylor will be picking Stuart up from the pet store. Abdullah and David will be controlling the lights and special effects we’ll have set up here in the room. By now, I would hope that everybody knows their part. We can’t screw things up, especially with all the money I pumped into making this prank work the way it’s supposed to.”
Anthony certainly put big money into making his pitiful prank a success. In fact, the cost ran into the lower thousands.
With hundreds of millions of dollars swollen into the family coffers, those very thousands were just tiny crumbs from off the Greenstein dinnertable. It had to be true in most cases. Rich kids were spoiled rotten and sometimes engaged in eradict behavior. Anthony was no exception.
“Abdullah and David are expected at what time?” Megan inquired, ready to leave on a moment’s notice.
“At least an hour before John and Taylor bring Stuart here. They’ll be hanging out in the pet store to sort of keep an eye on Stuart.”
“Then, I guess there’s nothing more to talk about.”
More gunshots rung out from down the street. Everyone in the room were desperate to leave until final plans were ready to be executed.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Anthony proposed to his other three co-conspirators. “This place is beneath me, quite a detriment to the Greenstein character.
The party of four exited the room. They jumped into their cars and didn’t look back.


CHAPTER—2

SET IN MOTION

The very person Anthony Greenstein and the other conspirators targeted was Stuart Duffelmeyer. Known as “The Whiz Kid”, Stuart worked hard to become a perfect 4.0 student. The soon-to-be NYU graduate would be the proud owner of a doctorate in veterinary medicine. The secret had gotten out he’d been a virgin throughout his entire teenage and young adult life. Things hadn’t changed up until the present. Stuart wasn’t a bad looking young man at all.
In fact, the women who ran close within his circles, they considered him to be somewhat decent looking. Except for glasses thick enough to see on the other side of the moon, and the dorkiest hairdo within decades, he possessed a kernel of spunk. Some dressing tips and lessons in being more machismo wouldn’t’ve hurt matters. The brilliant young man of elite Jewish descent considered this to be one of the most important nights of his life. Losing one’s virginity had to be one of the greatest milestones of their lives. Stuart ached deep down in his bones to bring such a milestone into fruition. Customers walked in and out of Pet Emporium on one of their busiest Saturdays in months. The Manhattanites ran low on pet food and had to stock up for the coming Fall and Winter months. Dogs barked. Cats meowed. The noise shot from one end of Pet Emporium to the other. Fish of many species swam around the sanctum of their tanks. Birds from the tropics chirped to the beat of their own music. Snakes slithered around inside their cages. A pet store wouldn’t be normal without lots of noise.
Two more conspirators in the well-plotted prank against Stuart were temporarily stationed at the back of the pet store. Abdullah Tariq Muhammad, a native of Nigeria, waited just a few feet from a cage housing a large brown Boa Constrictor snake. Abdullah became a real prize with women on NYU’s campus. His shiny Hershey chocolate skin, bleached white teeth, and solid muscular build, were the features many women craved. Yes, they loved their dark chocolate. He remained their flavor of the month. Saturdays were usually casual days for him, wearing just an African print shirt from his native land and a pair of faded Levi jeans.
David Nguyen, an American-born Korean, parked his stick-like body right next to Abdullah. David also turned a few heads amongst NYU women. He kept his physique lean. Periodically, he got facials and manicures, dressed in fine threads from top New York department stores, and kept the sportiest hairdo with a little help from an expensive styling gel. His parents owned a chain of grocery stores and he didn’t mind helping them spend some of their hard-earned cash.
Abdullah and David were in the very back of the store. The pair zoomed in on Stuart. He was up front helping a mother and her son pick out a puppy. When approached by Anthony and the others to be a part of the prank, they eagerly obliged. Why not have some fun just before graduation? You only lived once. It’s exactly how they approached life. Stuart was so busy up front, until he had no idea two of his fellow NYU students were in the back plotting on him. More customers flooded into Pet Emporium to buy food for their pets or just purchase a beloved animal. Abdullah fished out his cell phone and punched in the numbers to try and locate the master conspirator.
Three short rings were enough for Anthony to pick up. “Yes, Abdullah, what’s the latest?”
“David and I are in the back of the pet store,” Abdullah answered back, slowly backing away from the cage with the large snake.
“John and Taylor will be there in about a half-hour,” Anthony reminded his novice plotters.
“We’ve been keeping track of time.”
“Good.”
“We’ll be leaving here in about ten minutes. I wanna get to the motel to make sure the lights are working correctly.”
“Stuart, what’s he doing?”
“Helping some woman and her son pick out a German Shepard puppy.”
“Stay under the radar with this guy.”
“He won’t be able to detect us.”
“Me and the guys left the motel after we heard gunshots. We’ll be meeting up again to make sure everything falls in place.”
“What’s this about gunshots?”
“The motel’s located in New York’s crackhead capital.”
“Why pick out such a dangerous location?”
“It’s the only spot we could put this prank together.”
“Do you or any of the other guys have a gun?”
“I’ll make sure somebody brings protection.”
“Great!” Abdullah cheered. “David and I will see you at the motel soon.”
“See ya soon.”
Abdullah flipped his cell phone shut. Cautiously, he backed further away from the cage.
David cracked a big smile. “Abdullah, what’re you so afraid of?”
“Snakes, David, snakes!” Abdullah grumbled, the palms of his hands sweating from fright.
“Oh, those reptiles wouldn’t hurt you unless they felt threatened by you.”
“Particularly, I’m afraid of a certain type of snake.”
“What type is that?”
“Diamondback rattlers.”
“Why come?”
“That rattler at the end of their tails, it just gives me the creeps. The sounds of hearing that noise just makes me break out into a cold sweat.”
“Their poisonous fangs are what you have to worry about.”
“Guess you’re right.”
David scratched his head and grunted. “You’ll never guess what I’m afraid of?”
“A vindictive Korean girl with papers to take everything your family worked for.”
“Ha, ha, very funny,” David rejected. “I’m scared to death of tornadoes.”
“Tornadoes? But, why?”
“Every since I was a kid, watching tornadoes sweep houses off the ground, knock down trees, turn cars over, slam people into the side of buildings, I get sick to my stomach thinking about it.”
“It goes to prove, everybody’s got something they’re afraid of.”
“My phobia will always be of tornadoes.”
“Hurricanes, do they bother you?”
“Not really. I do know that they can be just as devastating as a tornado.”
Abdullah looked down at his watch. Time ticked faster than he realized. “David, we’ve got to be going if we’re gonna meet Anthony and the others at the motel.”
When Abdullah and David approached the front of the store, they covertly covered their faces. Even with his thick glasses to see almost anything, Stuart had no clue they’d just walked past him.


CHAPTER—3

DEVASTATINGLY DIRTY DEEDS

Taylor Warrwick and John O’Connor were the final two conspirators in the big prank. They showed up at Pet Emporium the exact moment they were supposed to. Taylor didn’t quite excel in the looks department. He had a mouthpiece fierce enough to charm pretty women or representatives out of collecting big debts from him. His NYU colleagues agreed how he talked senseless crap most of the time. Taylor wished above everything he could’ve been blessed with good skin and thicker hair.
Severe teenage acne and hereditary baldness deducted major points from his overall appearance. What he lacked in good looks, he made up for in shrewdness and intellect. John O’Connor, his NYU sidekick, bolstered good looks, high intellect, and family prominence. John kept his fire red hair full on top and neatly tapered on the sides. A muscular body tone had the ladies trailing him for dates which boosted his shining image. The dark red freckles across his cheeks looked like someone had taken a red magic marker and dotted his face for an art project.
Taylor noticed Stuart towards the middle of the pet store feeding a puppy. “Hey, John, there goes the biggest nerd of the Twenty-First Century.”
John conjured up a big smile. “Yes, there’s the biggest nerd of the new millennium. The bony body frame and weird hairdo and thick glasses and all.”
“It’s amazing, he’s been a virgin his whole life.”
“I’ve known guys dorkier than him who get laid all the time.”
“Dorky guys with lots of money.”
“Not necessarily.”
“C’mon John, how many women do you know will give nerdy guys with no spunk the time of day?”
John sniffed a noseful of the pet shop odor. “Taylor, my buddy-ole-pal, did you see the movie ‘Revenge of the Nerds’?”
“Only about fifty times.”
“Remember the nerd who ended up with one of the prettiest women on the entire college campus?”
“The one who slipped on the Darth Vader mask.”
“Yes, my friend!” John recalled, keeping his voice to a minimum. “It wasn’t about how he looked. It was about how he worked his charm and you know what else on her.”
“In Stuart’s case, he has no charm or nothing else to work on a woman. If we’re going to make our move, it better be right now.”
“You’re right,” Taylor agreed. “The guys at the motel should already be set up.”
Taylor and John made their move towards Stuart. The pair of conspirators waited for him to sit the big bag of puppy food down on the floor.
Taylor marched towards Stuart as though he had the prize of a lifetime to present to him. “Hey Stuart, how’s it going, buddy?”
Stuart jumped at the vibrant octave of his voice. “Hey, hey, what’s going on, Taylor?”
“John and I are here to pick you up for your big date.”
“That’s right, tonight’s the night for my big date!”
John ran his fingers along the metal threads of the puppy cage. “Boy, do we have a real beauty picked out for you.”
“She’s good looking, huh?” Stuart asked with a blast of excitement, fog smearing up his thick bi-focal glasses.
“Better than you could’ve ever hoped.”
Stuart whispered to keep any of the store customers from hearing. “You know, guys, I myself can’t believe that I’m still a virgin. I mean, I’ve tried and asked women out, but they seem to always reject me. Looking around me, there’re guys better and worse than me when it comes to charm and good looks.”
“Sure there are,” Taylor attested. “But tonight, all the women in New York City and beyond are gonna regret they’ve ever turned down Stuart Duffelmeyer.”
John held in a big laugh before he spoke. “That’s right, Stuart. None of the women in this city compares to the knockout babe we’ve got lined up for you.”
Stuart cracked a cheesy grin. “I’ll owe you guys a lifetime favor for this.”
“Ahhhhhh, think nothing of it, Stuart.”
Taylor glanced down at his watch. “If you’re going to meet this beauty on time, we better get a move on it.”
“I’d hate to miss out on the biggest night of my life.”
“So would we, Stuart.”
“Give me a minute to grab my things in the back.”
“We’ll be right here, buddy.”
Stuart walked towards the back of the store with a prideful strut. No one in all of New York City could’ve been happier. To prey on someone’s insecurities was outright cruel. Taylor and John and the others simply didn’t care. The graduate students knew they wanted to have some big fun. With Stuart in the back gathering his belongings, Taylor and John were spared enough time to go over final arrangements.
“We should give the guys at the motel a call,” John suggested, keeping a sharp eye towards the back of Pet Emporium.
“Good idea,” Taylor presumed. “They should know that we’re on our way.”
Taylor pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Using swift finger movement, he punched in the number for the master conspirator himself.
After two rings, the crumbled voice of Anthony Greenstein answered. “Taylor, talk to me, buddy.”
“Stuart’s in the back getting his things,” Taylor informed Anthony, carefully monitoring his voice.
“Everything’s set up here at the motel.”
“Again, you guys are at The American Shore Motor Lodge at 720 East 33rd Street in The Bronx.”
“That we are.”
“Traffic here in Manhattan isn’t too bad right now. Once we get on the freeway, we should be in The Bronx before you know it.”
“Perfect!” Anthony applauded. “Everybody’s ready to do their part once you guys get here.”
“We’ll see you at the motel.”
“Alright, later.”
Taylor flipped his phone shut. A reflection of his acne-scarred face was seen from a huge aquarium holding a baby shark. An unexpected wave of fright shot through him like jolts of lightning.
“Something wrong?” John asked Taylor, noticing shaking motions from his arms.
“That shark in that tank gives me the creeps.”
“Unless it’s able to eat through that glass, or jump up and bite us in the face, then there’s nothing we should worry about.”
“Would you like to know what really creeps me out?”
“Please tell me.”
“Sharks!” Taylor buzzed. “I wasn’t even born when the movie ‘Jaws’ came out, but when I saw it for the first time, I almost jumped out of my skin, only to leave my bones and muscles to defend for themselves.”
“So, you have a fear of sharks?”
“Their slippery-rubbery skin, their big, razor-sharp teeth, their long pointed noises, and their big wide fins, just scares me almost into my grave.”
“Jaws is definitely one of your classic Steven Spielberg movies. I’d watch it over and over again.”
“Not only does the shark in Jaws creeps me out, but the music played in that movie gives me nightmares.”
John tuned his voice as he took in a deep breath. “You’ll never guess what I’m afraid to death of.”
“Leprechauns?” Taylor chuckled, the humor rippling up his spine.
“Hurricanes!” John grappled. “Watching those waves of water pound, those strong winds blow over everything in sight, just scares me into oblivion.”
“Then stay out of the Gulf Coast region.”
Stuart came from the back of the store with his coat and other belongings. He carried a smile big enough to swallow up the entire borough of Manhattan. Supposedly, with a beautiful date lined up, he was about to fulfill his lifetime fantasy. The drought of being a virgin was about to come to an end. So he thought. Eight of the most atrocious conspirators had something totally different lined up for him.
“Ready to begin your big night, Stuart?” Taylor asked, a profound look of mischeviousness lined across his acne-ravaged face.
“Readier than I’ve ever been,” Stuart grinned, sheets of blush waved over his face.
“This beauty we’ve got for you is mindblowing.”
“Then let’s go see her!” he shouted, happier than he’s ever been.
Stuart got in on the passenger’s side of the gray BMW owned by Taylor. John climbed into the backseat while Taylor fired up the car. The group of three NYU students were on their way to one of the biggest setups known to mankind.
Poor Stuart Duffelmeyer.
If only he knew what the night had in store for him.
The noise of the violence from around The American Shore Motor Lodge in the Bronx calmed down long enough for Anthony and the others to put their plans into action. Everything set up to make the prank a success was in place. Taylor and John came around to the back of the polished BMW and opened the door for Stuart. Good actors they were. They had to be given an A-plus for pretending like Stuart deserved such star treatment.
“Are we in the Bronx?” Stuart asked Taylor and John, staring around at the harsh urban elements up and down the street.
“The Bronx we are in,” Taylor replied with such an astute tone.
“A lot of these people around this motel look like they’re homeless or drug addicts.”
Stuart studied the troop of street warriors going in and out of the motel. He felt uneasy. Being a native of Rosebeck in Staten Island, he wasn’t used to witnessing this type of madness.
“This motel houses a lot of homeless families from around New York,” Taylor explained, cutting his eyes over at John.
“Why’d you guys pick out such a dirty motel in such a bad section of this borough?”
“We didn’t wanna draw any unwelcome attention. Are you ready to meet the drop dead gorgeous woman we picked out especially for you?”
“Sure!” Stuart hailed, more excited than a big lottery winner.
Taylor and John led Stuart up to the door. John tapped on the door four consecutive times. The taps were softly executed. Those on the inside understood rather clearly. The knob to the door turned with seduction. Taylor and John interlocked arms with Stuart and led him to the front of the motel room. The low-lit Christmas lights flashed from one end of the room to the next. Abdullah flicked the lights on and off from inside the walk-in closets.
“Are you Stuart Duffelmeyer, baby?” asked one of the most seductive women voices.
The sexy voice actually belonged to Megan Piccirillo. She delivered on her promise to Anthony. Her voice crept out of a closet on the opposite side of the room.
“Yes! Yes! I’m Stuart Duffelmeyer!” Stuart heaved, growing more excited by the second.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Stuart. Damn, you are one sexy man.”
“Hope you don’t mind me asking. What is your name?”
“Rachel, but my friends all call me ‘Desire’.”
“Desire, huh?”
“Yes, you’ll desire me in every way.”
The lights flicked on and off. The voice only got sexier.
Abdullah and Megan worked their perverted talents like clockwork. A wave of soft love music faltered into the room. Speakers were placed in opposite corners near the bed. David handled the music by hooking a set of jacks into a laptop computer with i-tunes downloaded onto the hard drive.
“Mind if I come closer?” Stuart proposed, his libido in full throttle.
“No, babe, not at all.”
Taylor and John pointed over to the bed. It was their signal for Stuart to make his move.
“Your voice sounds sexy as ever.”
“Why thank you, honey.”
Stuart came within inches of the bed. The flowing blonde hair overlapped the covers. The missle-like breasts made a print which caused Stuart to water at the mouth. The curves of her body brought a high gloss to his eyes.
“Like what you see?” the sweet voice asked.
“Love what I see!” Stuart snuffed, his breathing much greater. “But I’d really love to see your face away from the covers.”
“You will, honey, just be patient.”
“Looks like you have a gorgeous head of hair.”
“Like threads of fine blonde silk.”
Stuart threw his head upwards. The most inquisitive look came upon his face. “Your voice sorta sounds familiar.”
“Like who, sweetie?”
“Like someone I attend NYU with.”
Megan tuned her voice to higher, more seductive octaves. “Who’s this person you’re talking about?”
“I’d say Megan Piccirillo, but that’s totally absurd.”
“No, that’s not me. Like I told you, my name’s Rachel, better known as ‘Desire’.”
“Can I come closer?”
“Sure, why not.”
From inside the same closet as Megan, Anthony was eager to execute his plan. The mechanical controls to the centerfold fantasy love doll were at his disposal. With the push of a couple of buttons, the arms and legs on the doll moved. Megan heckled out a series of moans and groans to entice Stuart. The music changed from one soothing love song to another. With Megan providing the voice, Abdullah providing the lights, David providing the music, and Anthony providing the movement of the fantasy doll, things operated smoothly.
“Don’t be shy, darling. Come closer to me.”
“Looks like you’ve got a very pretty face.”
“Like that of a Hollywood starlet.”
“Who, for instance?”
“For instance, Brooke Shields or Jennifer Aniston or Charlize Theron.”
“Boy, do I like them.”
Taylor and John waved hand signals for Stuart to make his move. And a big move he made. He invited himself to sit at the middle of the bed. Without being told, he reached over and palmed the large squeezeable soft breasts with perky nipples on the centerfold fantasy doll.
“Like them?” the enticing voice asked.
“Love them!” Stuart favored, moments away from fulfilling his dream. So he thought.
“Rumor has it, you’re still a virgin.”
Stuart grinned from ear-to-ear. “Well, it’s kinda true.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, honey. That’s why your NYU classmates set this whole thing up.”
Stuart placed both hands down by the doll’s hips and legs. “Wow, you’ve got some soft legs.”
“They’re not the only things that’re soft.”
“Really!”
“What exactly are your measurements?”
“My bust is 36c, my waist is 24, and my hips are 36.”
“A perfect 36-24-36?”
“Yes, the perfect hourglass body.”
Anthony continued working the controls to the centerfold fantasy love doll like a mechanic working on a partially-tuned car. Abdullah continued flicking the lights on and off at perfect intervals. Neighboring motel residents would’ve thought they were celebrating Christmas in the dead of Spring. Megan continued disguising her voice better than any celebrated actress. David softened the music with each passing love song.
Stuart rolled the covers away from the mechanical doll. The face was easy on the eyes, yet the features seemed artificial. He glided his fingers across the face and the surface felt like that of soft plastic. Out of nowhere, little white insects crawled from under the covers. Hundreds, maybe thousands, crawled from every inch of the bed. Stuart jerked the covers to the end of the bed. How degenerate of him to discover how he’d been talking to a mechanical sex doll with thousands of disgusting maggots buried under the sheets.
Stuart jumped away from the bed. He brushed many maggots off his clothes. “What the hell!”
Anthony’s voice rung out from inside the closet. “Go ahead and do it now!”
Taylor hit the light switch. The whole room lit up with extra lighting provided by Anthony. With about one-third of the bag of maggots left, Dana popped up out of nowhere and dumped the remaining contents on top of Stuart’s head. The nasty white insects crawled into his mouth and nose and ears. Prudence didn’t make her move until Stuart decided to run towards the door. She emptied the bucket of the slippery and slimy compound onto the floor. He fell flat to the floor harder than an NFL star being tackled by the opposing team.
Anthony moved to the middle of the room and looked down at Stuart. “Stu, congratulations, baby! You’re no longer a virgin, buddy boy.”
This jerkoff laughed harder than an audience at The Laugh Factory. The coldhearted bastard had no remorse for what he’d just done.
Megan eased out of the closet and stood right next to Anthony. “Look at it like this, Stuart, your date that we set you up with, she wasn’t bad to be made out of a buncha plastic and mechanical controls.”
She laughed so hard until a deep redness camouflaged her glowing olive complexion. How much colder could an individual get?
Abdullah came out of the closet giggling himself into a coma. “My man, Stu, I hope you enjoyed this as much as we did.”
Abdullah laughed until a sharp pain hit him at the middle of his back.
David emerged from the dark closet snickering his windpipe into a knot. “Well, Stu, you’re the first guy that I’ve ever met who broke his virginity to a mechanical sex doll.”
Dana stepped closer to Stuart. She shook the remaining maggots out of the bag and down onto his chest. “Stuart, your date has holes that vibrate, giving you a feeling that’ll send you over the edge.”
More maggots crawled up his nostrils and into his mouth and ears.
Like the others, Dana nearly laughed herself into a blackout.
Prudence positioned herself next to Dana. She shook the remaining contents of the slimy compound onto the top of Stuart’s head. “My friend, Stuart, we only hope that your fantasy girl is everything that you’ve ever wanted in a woman.”
Prudence laughed hard enough to cough up gooey mucous.
Taylor and John stood over by the door barely able to stand up straight. The pair used one another as leverage to keep from falling to the floor. The laughter was intense.
“Stu, my man, I’d love to trade places with you,” Taylor mocked, stumbling over his words.
“Tonight, Stu, you’re the luckiest man in the world,” John ridiculed, holding onto the doorknob to keep from falling down. “You have pure fantasy and fulfillment right at your disposal.”
Between being set up with a woman who was nothing but plastic and electrical wiring, having maggots and a slimy compound poured on top of his head, and being made a complete fool out of, Stuart couldn’t help but lay sprawled across the floor and cry his eyeballs out of the socket. He cried and cried until tears shot from the very core of his mouth.
“You bastards set me up!” Stuart yelled, his cries being heard from nearby motel rooms.
A queasy turbulence occurred like a knot inside his stomach. Vomit shot from his mouth. A mixture of the maggots and the toxic compound caused a sickness to come over him. The group of NYU students laughed in unsion. Mockery of such magnitude was unforgettable. A prank of such caliber would be unforgiveable.
The humongous rat spotted earlier re-appeared. The seemingly intelligent rodent looked Stuart square in the face with glowing eyes. The brightest cosmic glow radiated from its body. The dark skies above the Bronx opened up. The motel room shook with great force. The Universe knew one of it’s favorite sons had been violated. The two locked eye contact as though they’d been old buddies. A brief exchange of telepathy indicated they might’ve had something in common. Stuart heard big laughter around the room. The torment intensified the longer they laughed.
“There’s that big rat again!” Anthony squalled, pointing down at the gigantic rodent.
“Looked like it’s eyes were glowing,” Megan warranted, holding tight onto Anthony.
“Why did the room shake?” Dana asked, herself holding on to Megan.
“There’s some supernatural mumbo jumbo stuff going on in here,” said Abdullah, keeping a tight grip onto the closet door.
“The giant rat was glowing like an alien from outer space,” said David, using Abdullah for leverage.
Concentrated tears blurred Stuart’s vision. He looked all of his eight NYU classmates dead in the eyes and said, “You bastards are going to pay for this! I swear, I’m going to even with all of you guys.”
“Why’re you so mad at us, Stu,” Anthony concluded. “We’re the ones who helped you break your virginity, buddy old pal.”
The other seven jokesters broke out into a wilder laughter. The big rat discharged a haunting squeal and almost disappeared into thin air. Stuart felt they’d see one another in the very near future. More gunshots erupted from the motel room several doors down. Since the motel housed homeless drug addicts, the ones who’d become slaves to the heartless drug dealers, violence occurred every hour of the day.
A middle-aged Hispanic man slumped into the street with bullet holes blasted into his chest. He fell to the ground holding the middle of his stomach. Blood gushed out in quantities heavy enough to end his life. Looking out the window, Megan and Dana cupped their mouths in utter disbelief.
“C’mon guys, let’s get the hell out’a here!” Anthony ordered his seven conspirators. “If that glowing, monster-sized rat don’t eat us first, then these crack animals here in the Bronx are going to fill us up with bullet holes like they did the guy laying out in the street.”
Stuart reciprocated fierce eye contact with the egomaniacal eight as they exited the room. “What you have done to me, I’m going to do ten times worse to you. What has happened in this motel room will come back to bite all of you in the backside. Literally, I mean that. In the very end, you will come crawling on your hands and knees to beg for my forgiveness.”
Stuart meant what he said. Every word he said, he meant it.


CHAPTER—4

RAW REPERCUSSIONS

Once again, the violence in the Bronx calmed down long enough for the NYPD to perform their investigation. Deputy Inspector Nicholas Orlando from the 48th Precinct arrived with a team of his boys in blue. They shot across the 450 Cross Bronx Expressway fifteen minutes after they’d been dispatched. The precinct Deputy Orlando represented was described as economically depressed. The residents were in the middle-to-lower income strata with a multi-farious ethnic make-up.
Orlando wore many years of serving on the NYPD force across his depressed face. The sixty-three year old deputy accumulated thirty-six years on the force. The puffy eyes, coffee-stained teeth, and darkened lips from smoking, proved what he’d experienced over the years. The creepiest feeling seemed to have come up from behind and gripped him across the shoulders. Something about being at the motel made him feel uneasy.
Orlando looked down at the murdered Hispanic victim. “Any positive identification on our vic?”
A veteran homicide detective also from the 48th Precinct shook his head. “Deputy Orlando, our vic’s been described as Hector Juan Escobar, a Colombian immigrant, thirty-two years of age.”
“Any prior convictions?” Orlando queried the detective, emergency vehicle lights from outside coloring his aged faced.
“Several back in Barranquilla, Colombia, while some were here in New York. Convictions were for assault, burglary, immigration fraud, and narcotics trafficking.”
“A naturalized U.S. citizen?”
“Here in the United States on a fiancée visa.”
“So, someone was being paid to help keep him here in the states.”
“It appears that way.”
“Sure would be nice to find that someone.”
Orlando took a closer observation at the gunshot wounds near the victim’s abdomen. “Whoever wanted Hector dead, they certainly went beyond the call of duty. His enemies pumped enough lead into him to build an army tank.”
“This homicide is definitely drug-related.”
“Deputy, I remember the days when no sane person would dare come into this area of the Bronx.”
“You and I both,” Orlando recalled. “The drug lords, gangs, muggers, and pimps, they claimed every inch of this territory here in the Bronx. I’d like to forget about the days when even we were scared to do our jobs.”
“Back in those days, ATM machines and payphones wouldn’t’ve lasted one minute without being vandalized. Between gangs taking over, city government not caring, and policemen being debilitated, I’d say we’ve made some strides.”
The detective led Orlando over by the bed. “The excitement hasn’t even started, Deputy Orlando.”
Orlando bucked his eyes after the covers on the bed were pulled back. “Whoa! What the hell’s this?”
“Myself and the guys from the precinct asked the same question.”
“A mechanical sex doll?” Orlando shrugged, left in total suspense.
The pair of men stepped over by one of the closets. “Someone had been operating the controls to the sex doll from inside this closet.”
“Operating it for what reason?”
“Believe that it was part of some type of prank.”
Orlando followed the detective to the closet on the opposite side. “Someone was in here playing music while someone else was operating a set of lights. Yes, this had to be part of some type of kiddie prank. A group of high school or college kids, you think, detective?”
“Possibly, Deputy Orlando,” the detective reasoned. “But where does this mechanical sex doll come into the prank?”
Orlando grunted while he whisked his hand across the middle of his face. “Detective, I’m no Albert Einstein or Sherlock Holmes, but I’ve been on the force long enough to know that a group of kids brought that mechanical sex doll here to this motel room to supposedly get some virgin kid laid.”
“My bets would’ve been with you.”
“Bring all of this together. A mechanical sex doll, music, psychedelic lights, and who knows whatever else. It’s all gotta be a part of some prank.”
Orlando glanced down at the floor and noticed the little white critters. “Where in the hell did these maggots come from?”
“Again, it might’ve been a part of their prank.”
“And this slippery-slimy crap? Where in the hell did it come from?”
“The prank, also, Deputy Orlando.”
“But who’d go through all of this trouble to pull a prank on someone?”
“A bunch of silly and bored youngsters.”
The detective was correct. Anthony Greenstein and the others were silly and bored. A team from the crime lab collected samples of the maggots and the compound spread out across the carpet. Experts searched rigorously for fingerprint samples.
“Could there possibly be a connection between Escobar’s murder and the pranksters?” Orlando examined, a scratching noise in the room putting him on high alert.
“You’ve just asked the trillion dollar question. One thing’s for sure, Escobar wasn’t the prank target.”
“Then, who was?”
The answer to Orlando’s question of great suspicion stood across the street from the motel. Stuart Duffelmeyer hadn’t left the scene. He should’ve left when the others were finished executing their senseless prank on him. The traumatizing effects nearly crippled him. He stood amongst a group of curious Bronx residents. Anger and vengeance streamed through his heart and mind. Somehow, some way, the egomaniacal NYU students were going to pay for what they did to him.
Back inside the motel room, Orlando wasn’t done with his questioning. “Detective, aren’t these motels being rented out to homeless families?”
“That’s correct, Deputy Orlando.”
“I’m sure these people come from grinding, abject poverty. Advocates for the homeless, social workers, city officials, what are they doing to get these people into decent housing?”
“I guess those 16th Congressional District people are supposed to be working on that very issue.”
“They better hurry up,” Orlando warned. “Deteriorated buildings, including these rundown motels, is an open invitation to widespread drug use and trafficking.”
“What’re we gonna do in the meantime?”
“Send one of your guys to meet with the Deputy Executive Director of Interface. A private social work network organization like them should be able to connect with the mayor and the governor to help curb some of these problems. We’ve had three murders in less than twenty-four hours, which is totally unacceptable.”
“All drug-related, of course.”
“Does the dope ever stop?”
“Deputy, how about the possible pranksters?”
“See what you can find out.” Orlando instructed. “Talk to a few of the occupants here at the motel. Get some of our guys to talk with some of the people who live nearby. We need answers and we need them fast.”
An unfamiliar scratching noise caught the attention of Orlando and his lead detective.
“Detective, did you hear that?” Orlando asked, resting his hand on the handle of his glock.
“Heard it just like you.”
One of the biggest rats in all of New York City appeared from the right side of the room. This creature had to be the largest rodent Deputy Orlando and his detective ever seen. The brightest, the most transcendent yellow light glowed from it’s eyes. The rat stood on it’s hind legs and displayed huge, razor-sharp teeth.
“Daaaaaaaaam!” Orlando yelled, jerking his gun right out of the holster. “Where in the hell did that thing come from?”
“Your guess is as good as mine’s!” the detective cried out, also pulling his gun out for possible protection.
The rat hissed at them. Orlando stood right at six-foot-two. The rodent came at least to his waist. Surprisingly, it carried itself as though it didn’t want to harm anyone. It’s eyes were channeled right outside the window. Stuart made direct eye-contact and their telepathic tagteam took place once again.
Orlando pointed his gun straight at the rat. “If that thing comes any closer, I’m shooting it straight through the wall.”
“I’m with you, Deputy Orlando,” the detective agreed. “I’m emptying this clip into that thing if it comes one step closer.”
The huge rat bent down and crawled into the closet. Like a quick gust of wind, it disappeared into thin air. Orlando and the detective crept over to the dark closet. They peeked inside and nothing was in there. Their pistols were still drawn like paranoid combat soldiers.
“Where’d it go?” Orlando inquired, waving his gun every which direction.
“Yeah, where’d it disappear to?”
“Did you see how it’s eyes were glowing like an alien from outer space?”
“Sure, like a creature from another planet.”
More light spilled into the closet. Orlando noticed there wasn’t the smallest hole through the adjoining walls. “That’s weird, there’re no holes in the walls. Where’d that monster rat crawl into?”
“Investigating the crime inside this room is weird. Deputy, this crime scene has started to give me the creeps.”
“The thing for us to do is to close up this crime scene.”
“And hope we don’t get eaten by that gigantic rat. I’ve lived in New York all my life, and yet, I’ve never seen a rat that damn big. I’ve never seen rats whose eyes glowed. Gosh, I’ve seen some big ones, but none compares to that monster we saw.”
Orlando did the smart thing by closing up the crime scene. Would anyone believe they’d seen the colossal rodent with glowing eyes they’d claimed to have seen? Many questions thirsted for answers in the Bronx, New York.


CHAPTER—5

A NEW BEST FRIEND

Stuart escaped one of the most crime-infested areas of New York City by catching a busy subway train once dubbed “The Muggers Express”. Catch a train as dangerous as the one he presently rode back in the 1970s and 1980s, you were sure to get mugged by some savage waiting for easy prey. Passengers riding the train were worn out from a long day’s work or just dealing with the stinking “rat race” throughout the city.
Stuart had every reason to be worn out. The prank orchestrated by his NYU classmates drained him emotionally and mentally. Never would he be the same. Psychologically, he was damaged for life. Acts of vengeance tainted his mind. Passengers on the train looked over at him. Utter distress was etched across his face. Many could tell he’d been wronged. The egomaniacal eight were due to pay for what they’d done to him.
The six train stopped off near the lower east side of Manhattan. Stuart wasn’t quite ready to walk up on the streets. Thoughts of getting those pranksters back weighed heavy on his mind. The squeaking sounds of subway trains racing across the tracks jolted the nerves of him and other waiting passengers. The tracks were clear for the moment. Squeaking noises, not those of approaching trains, echoed up on the platform. Stuart and other awaiting passengers spotted one of the biggest rats in all of New York City.
“Heavens!” charged an old woman. “Look at the size of that thing.”
“We’d better be careful,” warned a middle-aged man. “He looks like he wants to have one of us for dinner.”
“Goodness gracious!” chanted a large-built woman. “Doesn’t look like a rat of that size has been missing any meals.”
The gigantic rodent exchanged aggressive eye contact with Stuart. The two appeared to have something in common. Stuart sized up the rat. The rat sized up Stuart. Astoundingly, it was the same huge creature from the motel room in the Bronx. The rat hopped up on the platform and passengers wildly dispersed. They ran and jumped every direction to avoid a possible attack. There was an unexplainable connection between them.
A homeless man with a long matted beard held up a long stick. “Doesn’t he know that that monster rat will bite a big chunk out of him?”
Stuart patted the humongous rat across the top of its head. Yes, there was some strange connection between them. The approaching trains raced towards them. The rat jumped off the platform and just vanished into thin air. All the bystanders approached Stuart like he was the number one rock star in the world.
Another heavyset woman walked up and asked, “Sir, do you possess some type of power?”
Stuart cut straight into a vengeful grin. “Mam, you haven’t seen nothing yet. I will possess powers that no one on this planet has ever seen.”
“I’ve never seen anything like that in my life,” an older woman marveled. “I mean, you patted that thing over the head and it didn’t even attempt to bite you. Normally, a rat of that size would bite you in half.”
Passengers surrounded Stuart with the adulation of a worldwide celebrity. He would’ve loved to stand around and talk, but he had much work to do. His all-day metro card would get him close enough to the Staten Island Ferry. The ferry would get him home so he could put his plans into action.


CHAPTER—6

MESSAGES AND MEMORIES

The Staten Island Ferry got Stuart close enough to his predominantly Jewish and Italian neighborhood of Arden Heights. The Orthodox Jewish community remained conservative and crime-free. The residents wanted to keep it that way. Stuart lived in an area of upscale clustered townhomes right off the main thoroughfare. His exact address in Staten Island was 695 Barlow Avenue.
The journey back to Staten Island was tiresome. His fifteen minutes of fame down in the subway sort of boosted his morale. He shoved the key inside the lock of his $850,000 home and trampled inside. The lights were switched on and an aura of dead silence engulfed the five bedroom hideaway. Luxury couldn’t begin to describe the benefit he enjoyed. Stuart’s very wealthy parents decided to leave New York and retire to a life of leisure down in Florida.
The allure of Florida had been calling them for several years. Being moguls in the New York real estate game, Harry and Isabel Duffelmeyer decided to be good to themselves by spending some of their mega-millions on property throughout South Florida. Stuart emerged into a front room decorated to suit his taste. And his taste wasn’t bad. An Italian marble table flanked by black leather chairs complimented the distinguished oil paintings hanging perfectly on the black and white striped walls. Pure white carpet covered every inch of floor space.
Stuart looked over in the corner at a glass table with a cordless phone resting on top. Flashing red numbers indicated he’d gotten several calls while he was out. A total of twenty-two calls were displayed on the machine. Collectively, who would’ve called him twenty-two times? The most calls he’d ever gotten in one day’s time was five or six. He pressed the playback button with hesitation.
The first call he’d gotten said, “Son, this is your parents. Your mother and I were at the country club all day. I played a couple’a rounds of golf, then just sat around and chat with the fellas. Give us a call when you get this message.”
The first message was from Stuart’s wealthy and highly-esteemed father, Harry Duffelmeyer. How modest Harry could be. The fellas he spoke about were multi-millionaires just like himself. Some were even billionaires, those who took in sun and played golf while in semi-retirement.
The second call he’d gotten said, “Stuart, this is your mother. Like your father said, we’ve been at the country club all day. Listen honey, we’re gonna be in town a couple’a days early for your NYU graduation. Son, we’re very proud of you, and we look forward to you getting your diploma in veterinary medicine. Oh, and by the way, we tried to reach you on your cell phone, but didn’t get no answer. Please give us a call and let us know that you’re okay.”
Stuart stood to the side and waited to hear the third of twenty-two messages.
Quite the insensitive, comical voice spoke into the machine. “Hey, Stu, we sure hope that you had a good time at the motel in the Bronx. We sure picked you out a beauty, didn’t we? So tell me, how does it feel not being a virgin anymore?”
The message ended with a series of loud giggles. The voice belonged to the master prankster himself, the notoriously evil Anthony Greenstein.
“That bastard!” Stuart snorted in rage. “Anthony wants to bring his sick jokes to my home.”
Stuart couldn’t’ve been closer to a psychotic outbreak. How in the hell did Anthony Greenstein get access to his home phone number? Oooops! During the early stages of the prank, Stuart handed over his number in order for them to have some means of contact. Dark redness was caked across his face. His upper and lower teeth pressed hard enough to grind steel into powder. Big beads of sweat popped right out of his pores.
Stuart listened to the fourth message. “Hi Stuart, just wanted to let you know we enjoyed watching you have fun with your mechanical fantasy doll. It must really feel good to have lost your virginity to someone like her.”
A voice of such strong seduction belonged to Megan Piccirillo. The message ended with uncontrollable laughter.
“That ding dong!” Stuart rebelled. “So, she wants to make a laughing stock out of me at her own expense. Well, she doesn’t know who she’s fooling with.”
He pressed the button and listened to the fifth message. “My man, Stu, how’s it going? We sure hope you had fun at the motel like we did. We’ve never had that much fun before. Boy, did we have a lot of fun.”
Those customary voices belonged to David Nguyen and Abdullah Tariq Muhammad. Like Anthony and Megan, the message ended with uproarious laughter.
The sixth message played and the sexy voices of women were heard. “Stuart, we know that you had the time of your life. What a way to break your virginity, huh?”
Those two enticing voices belonged to Dana Potts and Prudence Cundy. Giggle after giggle faded as the message came to an end.
By now, Stuart was enraged. The redness across his face only got darker. Steam blasted from both of his nostrils.
Venom pumped through his veins as he waited to hear the seventh message. “Hey, Stu, what’s up baby? Just wanted to let you know that we had a complete blast at the motel. Take care of yourself and congratulations on losing your virginity.”
Voices of such comedic overtones belonged to Taylor Warrwick and John O’Connor. The two pranksters just had to rub in what they’d done to Stuart. The remaining messages also came from the group Stuart dubbed as the “egomaniacal eight”. They just didn’t know when to quit.
“Those relentless rascals had quite some time on my watch,” Stuart grumbled, the strongest inclination of resentment gripping him. “They’re going to pay for what they did to me! They’re going to pay! They’re going to pay! They’re going to pay!”
Quietness grasped every inch of space in the house. Memories of the painful episodes came back to haunt Stuart. He attended Chabad Lubavitch Synagogue of Staten Island as a young boy. Kids made complete fun of his goofiness. His clothes and thick glasses were the sources of their entertainment.
When he got to Hebrew school, the kids never stopped picking on him. The clothes and glasses kept him square in the spotlight. But it wasn’t until he got to high school where his problems were more pronounced. He suffered the worst form of anti-Semitic prejudice from other high schoolers. Several of his classmates smacked and kicked him around on a daily basis.
Two of his classmates in particular, Russell Loveless and Gerald Robusto, used Stuart as their amusement. Being a top athletic jock, Russell scored big with the chicks. Girls loved watching him stroll down the hallway between classes, flexing his big muscles, followed by his irresistible cheesy smile. Top grades and goods looks were the traits which gave Gerald favor with the girls and other classmates.
Coming down the hallway carrying his books with his head hung low was a sophomore Stuart Duffelmeyer. Russell and Gerald spotted him as he came their direction. The pair of popular high schoolers couldn’t resist picking on someone they considered the biggest nerd of the last decade. As usual, they were surrounded by an entourage, mainly the good-looking girls who fed off their popularity.
“Well, well, well,” Russell announced to his schoolmates. “If it isn’t the nerdiest, the dorkiest, the goofiest, the weirdest guy in all of Staten Island.”
Russell gained a series of laughs from those standing nearby.
“If it isn’t the king of all nerds,” Gerald added. “This guy dresses like he jumped straight out of an old crayon box.”
Gerald racked up a series of laughs from his bent sense of humor.
“Those glasses are thick enough to see into a fiftieth story apartment in midtown Manhattan.”
“What’re his parents doing with all those millions they’ve made in real estate, sewing his clothes together from nineteenth century textile mills?”
Stuart walked into the midst of the jokesters. Gerald stuck his foot out to keep him from moving forward.
“Where you going, nerd?” Gerald said, pounding his hand on top of Stuart’s shoulder.
Stuart looked him on the side of his face. “I’ve got to get to my next class.”
“You’ll get to your next class when we say so.”
Russell stepped in front of Gerald with an erect finger pointed at the center of Stuart’s face. “That’s right, Jew Boy. You’ll get to your next class when we say so.”
“Please don’t call me ‘Jew Boy’,” Stuart strongly detested.
“You’ve got a problem with us calling you that?”
“You’re putting me on the spot. You’re making fun of my Jewish heritage and I don’t like it one bit.”
Russell shoved Stuart against the wall. “Well, what’re you going to do about it, Jew Boy?”
“Please, don’t call me that!” Stuart yelled, twisting his mouth sideways.
Gerald emerged back into the bullying process. “Embarrassed? Self-conscious? Don’t like being Jewish?”
“You guys are practicing Anti-Semitic acts against me,” Stuart charged, brave enough to stand up for his Jewish heritage.
“What if we told you that we didn’t like Jews?”
“I’d say that you were prejudice against my people.”
“Well, I don’t like Jews, and I don’t like you. You’re nothing but a nerdy kyke.”
Stuart had had enough. He slammed his books to the ground and took a swing at both Russell and Gerald. It might’ve been a bad move. Russell grabbed Stuart and held him in the tightest armlock. Gerald curled his fingers and produced two angry fists. Not wanting to crash his glasses into his face, he struck him dead in the center of his nose. Blood gushed out and stained his shirt. Gerald landed several more blows before Russell turned him loose. Stuart fell to the ground with blood drops staining the cover of his books. Bystanders kicked him as they came down the hallway. The episode of his classmates picking on him was horrible.
Stuart dissolved out his flashback and stood frozen in the front room. The ringing of his cellphone reminded him that he’d left it behind before going to work at Pet Emporium in Manhattan. He played back the voice messages on his cellphone. The egomaniacal eight hadn’t gotten enough. They left more disgusting messages. They were determined to torment Stuart. But like he promised to himself, they were going to pay dearly for what they’d done to him.


CHAPTER—7

TRAVELING INTO THE COSMOS

Stuart had calmed down long enough to figure out his plans to get even with those who’d wronged him. His father, Harry Duffelmeyer, always quoted to him a profound philosophy by one of the greatest entertainers of all time.
Francis Albert Sinatra had always quoted, “The best revenge is massive success.”
Harry drilled it into his son’s head that being massively successful was the best way to get even with all of those who’ve wronged you. Over the years, he’d become the biggest fan of Frank Sinatra. Music, movies, television shows, they were the sole entertainment of the Duffelmeyer residence. Stuart traveled to the top level of his townhome and into a room where he kept boxes of old books and albums and keepsake jewelry. The jerk of a long string and a one-hundred watt bulb lit up the room like a sports stadium.
Speaking of Frank Sinatra, a lifesize poster of old blue eyes hung at the East end of the wall. Posters of Albert Einstein and Thomas Edison hung opposite at the West wall. Einstein and Edison were purposely displayed on the wall to remind Stuart of his potential genius. Harry preached to Stuart how those men in particular weren’t quitters, and how their genius cultivated with time and effort.
Stuart rambled through a few boxes until he came across a large silverish medallion with Hebrew writing inscribed around the middle and outer circles. It’d been some years, but it was the same medallion given to him by a Chief Rabbi named Irwin Wedemeyer. Rabbi Wedemeyer died at the ripe old age of a 102. A kind and gentle man, he never stopped telling Stuart how special he was.
During frequent visits to the East Fifty-Seventh Conservative Synagogue, Stuart learned Jewish prayers and readings, sit in on lectures and geneology workshops, and sometimes attended concerts. Rabbi Wedemeyer took him under his wings at the tender age of thirteen, the perfect age for him to attend Barmitzvas and learn the Torah Bible. Stuart could still hear the voice of the man who impacted his life more than his own parents.
The medallion rested at the palm of his hand. The silverish coat hadn’t lost its luster. Rabbi Wedemeyer had given Stuart instructions on how the sacred relic was to be used. At the corner of the box from where the medallion was stored, he brought out the folded piece of tan paper. Writing in English and Hebrew were printed on opposite sides of the paper. The Hebrew talisman was one for communication with animals and the elements of the Earth.
The fine print in English read: Wear this powerful talisman and enhance your psychic bonds with God’s creatures and elements, while promoting your understanding of animal and element speak.
Many years later, Stuart couldn’t understand why Rabbi Wedemeyer just gave him the talisman without much explanation. During that time, Stuart hadn’t paid much attention. Did the Rabbi know something he didn’t? Was the Rabbi versed on a future event where things would work in Stuart’s favor? The bright light brought about a glow to the talisman that made the Hebrew writing more understandable.
Stuart glanced further down the paper where instructions were given to consecrate the talisman. Did this mean he’d be granted special powers? He was more than willing to take a chance. This wasn’t going to be some cheap imitation of fooling around with a Ouija Board or taking part in a séance. He traveled downstairs for a packet of salt, some incense, a short white candle, and a bowl of water.
After traveling back upstairs, the only light he kept on in the house was in the room where he was ready to perform the ceremony. Not a miniscule of sound was heard. Stuart gently held the talisman in the palm of his right hand. The instructions were clearer than ever. An offering to the One Most High of the Universe had to be approached with caution and sincerety. The light in the room faded on its own.
Stuart dropped a sprinkle of salt on top of the powerful talisman and said, “I consecrate you with the elements of Earth.”
Less than a minute later, he guided the talisman across the burning incense and said, “I consecrate you with the elements of air.”
A minute following that step, he swung it over the burning candle and said, “I consecrate you with the element of fire.”
Last, he dipped his fingers into the bowl of water and sprinkled a few drops onto the object. “I consecrate you with the element of water.”
A queasy feeling came over Stuart. His face converted to being flushed and sweaty. The room rocked back and forth with great force. Furniture and other objects started to slide boldly across the floor. All of a sudden, the entire townhome rocked like a massive earthquake had hit Staten Island. Before long, the entire neighborhood of Arden Heights rumbled as though it sat on a major fault line.
“My God, Rabbi Wedemeyer, have you come back from the dead!” Stuart squirmed, holding on tighter than ever to the closest doorknob.
The roof to Stuart’s townhome shot off as though a raging tornado swept through. A light, one beyond human comprehension, filtered straight into the room where Stuart held on to the talisman. The nighttime skies lit up like the sun had missed its daytime schedule for New York City. The Big Apple got the biggest surprise when supernatural forces momentarily dominated their city. The waxing crescent moon jetstreamed to another part of the Heavens. Like a returning UFO, a force lifted Stuart out of the house.
The brilliant burst of light sliced into the stars and a cosmic pathway had been created to bring him into the Heavenly bodies. Stuart marveled at what was taking place. Within seconds, he’d been thrusted into a pivotal position which allowed him to view the entire Milky Way galaxy. All nine planets in the Milky Way were before him. Books and movies were the only way he’d been able to view the galaxy where Earth claimed a spot.
“Wow! This is beautiful!” Stuart cheered, spellbinded by the many stars and planets and galaxies dominating the Heavenly bodies.
Mars, Venus, Jupiter, Earth, Saturn, Pluto, Mercury, Uranus and Neptune were all within plain sight for Stuart to view them. The glow of the inner solar system containing Earth, Venus, Mercuy and Mars sent him into cosmic daze.
The energetic source displayed from the outer solar system of Saturn, Jupiter, Pluto, Neptune and Uranus nearly snatched the breath out of his body. All the sights coloring parts of the Universe was breathtaking. Right before his very eyes, the planets orbited around the Sun. For Stuart, he couldn’t understand how he could exist in outer space without any oxygen. A power much greater than himself brought him into outer space in the first place. Astronauts were supposedly the only ones who could travel out there and live.
A force of supreme magnitude pulled Stuart away from the Milky Way galaxy and deeper into space. On his journey away from the Milky Way, the four star-forming arms appeared. There they were. Sagittarius, Perseus, Norma and Scutum-Centaurus claimed their territory within the vast Universe. The four star-forming arms were passed up and Stuart now traveled 200,000 light years further into space.
The mighty forces of the Andromeda galaxy pulled Stuart closer within its confines. The big brother of the Milky Way welcomed him as a respected guest. Trillions of stars cornered every measurement of space. Andromeda and Milky Way were good neighbors. A tremoring light of cosmic proportions surrounded Stuart. A light, one brighter than the source which poured into his Earthly home, burst across the Andromeda like a force field.
A voice of eminent power spoke. “I have been waiting for you, my son.”
“Waiting for me?” Stuart questioned, floating in space like one of the trillion stars.
“Yes, Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer from planet Earth,” the mighty voice said, sending chills all through Stuart.
“Yes, I’m definitely Stuart Duffelmeyer. Who are you?”
“Rabbi Irwin Wedemeyer. I’ve been sent by The One Most High.”
The source of light was so bright, until it became almost unbearable for Stuart to look upon.
“Rabbi Wedemeyer?” Stuart repeated, hearing, but not able to directly see the source he conversed with.
“Yes, my son.”
“Could The One Most High be God Almighty?”
“He is and will always be the Ruler of the Universe. There is no power greater than him in all of the Universe.”
The Rabbi’s voice spoke with such great authority. Several of the trillion stars within the Andromeda scattered.
“Why have I been brought here in outer space?”
“When you consecrated the magical talisman, you were calling upon the powers of the Universe. The One Most High anointed me to visit with you here in this time and this space, granting you the chance to plead your case.”
Stuart knew he’d eminated into an astral force and into a vibratory field. The mysterious force of Rabbi Wedemeyer grew stronger. Could the magical invocation of the talisman have gotten him more than what he bargained for?
“With me here in space, way away from Earth, can I plead my case?”
“You can plead your case. If what you seek is within reason, you will be granted your wish.”
Stuart stared across the Universe at what appeared to be a black hole called “Sagittarius A”. He cleared his throat, and with great sincerety, he said, “I’m…...I’m sort of embarrassed to admit this, but technically, I’m still a virgin. I had the chance to lose my virginity, but a group of my NYU classmates decided to pull a prank on me. You see, they lured me to an old motel in the Bronx, New York. Once I arrived, I was taken into a room with flashing psychedelic lights. What I thought was a very beautiful woman lying in the bed, was only a mechanical sex doll, with one my fellow students disguising her voice from inside a closet. They…....they dumped maggots on top of my head and poured some slippery-slimy junk on the floor and made me fall. Afterwards, I felt like the biggest dummy in all of New York City. Rabbi Wedemeyer, I ask to be granted special powers to make them pay for what they did to me.”
The divine voice of the Rabbi spoke and stars shot further off into the vast Universe. “Stuart, long before you were brought out here into the Universe, The One Most High saw what the students from NYU did to you. In fact, he looked down and saw them plotting against you. The calls you received on your home phone and your cell phone, The One Most High knew about it. In the end, you will get the last laugh.”
“So, will my wish be granted?”
“First, I must ask you something. Do you read your Bible?”
“Yes, both Christian and Hebrew. Rabbi Wedemeyer, you taught me the Torah when I’d come to the Synagogue.”
“Do you know the story of Job in the Bible?”
“Very well.”
“The Book of Job, the first chapter, the twelfth verse, says: And the Lord said unto Satan, Behold, all that he hath is in thy power; only upon himself put not forth thine hand. So Satan went forth from the presence of the Lord.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“The talisman you consecrated will grant you special powers over the animals and the elements of the Earth. Through these animals, and through the elements, they will obey you upon command. They will address you as ‘Master’, because you will gain dominion over them.”
Stuart felt like the luckiest man in the whole Universe. The Universe was on his side.
“And like Satan had been instructed to spare the life of Job, you are instructed to spare the life of those you wish to seek vengeance against.”
“Let me get this right, Rabbi. All the animals and insects and natural forces of the Earth will obey me?”
“You have become their ‘Master’. If your intentions become solely to kill your enemies, the powers will be taken from you.”
Stuart looked upon the glowing spiritual form of Rabbi Wedemeyer. He stretched his hands out as though he wanted to embrace him like an old friend. “The humongous rat in the motel and in the subway station, the one with the glowing eyes, where did it come from?”
“The creature will become your greatest ally. It did not come to harm you, but to be a guide when dealing with evil Earthly forces.”
“Rabbi Wedemeyer, why did you really give me the talisman?”
“For saintly reasons, Stuart. One day, I knew the talisman would be of great use to you.”
“I’m hoping that I can be of great use to the Earth through the special powers the talisman has granted me.”
“My son, you will be of distinguished use to the planet. Your powers will help bring the planet to more harmony and balance.”
“You’re saying that I’ll solve all of the Earth’s problems?”
“Only The One Most High can solve any and all problems. You have a moral obligation to intercede for those weaker than yourself.”
“But that number falls into the billions.”
“Before you are taken back to Earth, I must warn you about a future event due to take place.
“What event?”
“The galaxy from which you came will collide with another one millions of light years away. This galaxy speeding towards your galaxy will cause a disturbance in the Universe, and a powerful radioactive meteor will be shooting straight for Earth.”
“Where do I come into the picture?”
“This powerful meteor will be heading straight for New York City.”
“Do you have an exact date?”
“That is not for you to know, but pleased be prepared when it happens.”
“I will.”
“It is hereby declared that you are granted powers over Earth, air, fire, water, animals and spirits. It shall be used in accordance with the will of divine law. May your powers serve you well on Earth, between other worlds, and in all the other worlds. So shall it be!”
“Fantastic!” Stuart cheered out to the expansive Universe.
“Now, I must return to serve The One Most High,” Rabbi Wedemeyer explained to Stuart. “You will be returned to Earth safely.”
“Will I hear from you again?”
“In due time, my son.”
“Thank you.”
The powerful resonance of the Rabbi’s voice dissipated. Stuart felt the mighty grip of a force pulling him away the Andromeda Galaxy. Stars, trillions of them, glowed like balls of white fire. Traveling at speeds far beyond human comprehension, he enjoyed the trip through a massive section of the Universe. The solar system of the Milky Way galaxy came within plain view. The planet he belonged to, Earth, waited for his return. After passing other neighboring planets, he charged straight for Earth.
A trip a little over 200,000 light years away lasted only fifteen minutes. Stuart blasted straight on through the Earth’s stratosphere, troposphere, and mesosphere. The warmer and cooler layers toyed around with his body temperature. The atmospheric thermodynamics gave him the most potent head rush. The equilibrium levels sent spine-chilling waves under his skin. Stuart reached the nighttime New York skies. The skies were still painted with the waxing crescent moon and many stars. Finally, Stuart arrived back on planet Earth. Miraculously, he arrived safely back in New York city, back in the Arden Heights section of Staten Island.
The roof on top of his townhome remained suspended in mid-air. Stuart made a perfect landing in the very room where he had consecrated the powerful talisman. The roof slid right back on top of the townhome. The Frank Sinatra poster grabbed his attention the second he landed gently inside the padded chair. His trip in outer space sparked an andrenalin rush not of his own world. Did it really happen? Yes, it really did happen! He stared down at the talisman and witnessed an exuberant glow.
Loud knocks came to the front door. Stuart dropped the talisman into his pocket. He went downstairs to answer the person diligent to see if someone was home. His seventy-seven year old next door neighbor, Mrs. Dorothy Kassabaum, stood outside the door with her cane clutched into her left hand. The white-haired elderly woman promised his parents that she’d watch over him as though he were her own son.
“Good evening to you, Mrs. Kassabaum,” Stuart warmly greeted the old woman.
“Heavens, Stuart!” Mrs. Kassabaum huffed. “Have you heard the news?”
“What news?”
“UFO’s have been flying over this neighborhood.”
“UFO’s, Mrs. Kassabaum?”
“That’s right, sonny boy,” she declared. “Some big bright unidentified object shook all of Arden Heights.”
Stuart broke into a noticeable smile. “Mrs. Kassabaum, I don’t believe in such things.”
“Have you turned on the television lately?”
“No, not within the last few hours, I haven’t.”
“CBS-2 News and News 4 New York sent news crews out here. I’m telling ya, Stuart, some weird object lit up the skies like a hundred Fourth of Julys.”
“I must’ve been studying for finals.”
Mrs. Kassabaum took Stuart back in time by pulling a chapter out of New York City’s history. “Too bad that strange object tonight wasn’t around when we had that blackout back in July of 1977. So to speak, it could’ve shed some light on all those hoodlums that were vandalizing and looting a buncha places around the city.”
“I wasn’t born when that incident occurred.”
“Lucky for you, Stuart, my boy. Listen, if you need anything, I mean anything at all, don’t you hesitate to call or to come by.”
“I won’t, Mrs. Kassabaum.”
Stuart locked the door and returned upstairs. The power to control animals and nature was now in his hands. The fortitude to exercise those powers were in the talisman he had in his possession.


CHAPTER—8

GOOD OLD GRADUATION

Three weeks went faster than Stuart could’ve ever imagined. Graduation arrived and NYU students were proud to be recipients of their respective diplomas. Steinhardt baccalaureate, master’s, certificate, and doctoral graduates joined thousands of other NYU students and their families at Yankee Stadium. Except for a small section, all of Yankee Stadium had filled to capacity.
The NYU commencement procession kicked off. Cheers burst out from amongst the aggressive crowd. NYU President Hartwell Whitney led a group of distinguished university faculty and alumni along the stadium warming track. Following several feet behind President Whitney and the others were the NYU Pipe and Drums. The sounds of the NYU Brass Ensemble shifted the crowd into a soothing mood.
The Music Theatre Ensemble punctuated everyone into a mode of celebration. Hiding off into the density of the stadium crowd was Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer. Still known as “The Whiz Kid” amongst colleagues and associates, Stuart decided to receive his diploma in the mail. Yes, he preferred not to be seen by the egocentric eight. By now, he learned how Anthony and Megan and the others had spread rumors around campus that he’d slept with a mechanical sex doll.
The rumors had gotten so vicious, until he was ashamed to show his face anywhere around NYU’s campus. Anthony did a marvelous job of telling students how Stuart couldn’t even pay prostitutes for sex. Megan did a more splendid job of telling people that he wanted to travel to Mexico to have sex with prostitutes in brothels. The rumors hurt. They hurt bad. How could anyone show their face in public after being ostracized by a group of merciless renegades? They just didn’t know when to quit.
After the keynote speaker gave the commencement address, diplomas were ready to be handed out. Stuart watched closely as recipients lined up close to the stage to receive their diplomas. The Steinhardt School of Culture, Education, and Human Development were eager to award their hardworking students their papers in applied psychology, the arts, communication, education, health, law, and music.
Cheering relatives and friends stood on their feet. Banners of congratulations and NYU paraphernalia took center attention. The deans of each school were about to introduce the class as a whole. Alumni representatives were selected in advance to award degrees in different categories. The loud speaker announced every single recipient. Smiles of joy and accomplishment were etched on the faces of all the graduates. They had every reason to relish the moment. The handing out of degrees began. One NYU graduate trailed another across the stage to receive that paper which signed off on their future.
The next recipient to be handed his diploma caught the immediate attention of Stuart.
The announcer spoke into the microphone and said, “Recipient of Master’s in Business Administration, Anthony Greenstein.”
Anthony grasped his diploma and arrogantly whisked it out at the crowd. If only Stuart could run up on stage and slap that cunning grin off his face. University President Whitney shook his hand, knowing good and well he exchanged handshakes with an egotistical young man.
“I’d like to take that diploma and shove it down his throat,” Stuart grumbled to himself. “No, I’ve got bigger plans for him.”
Several more graduates received their diplomas before another menace to Stuart stepped up on stage. It sickened him to watch another one of the egomaniacal eight get up there.
The announcer chirped into the microphone and said, “Recipient of nursing, Megan Piccirillo.”
She accepted her diploma and took a bow. A section of Yankee stadium erupted into loud cheers and whistles. She surely had a fan club to support her on her very important day. Her Italian family from Boston and New York were there to support her. Stuart had plans for her as well.
“I’d like to take that diploma and re-arrange her pretty face with it!” he sizzled, her deceptive voice from the motel in the Bronx still ringing in his ears.
The line proceeded and the next person to get their diploma didn’t sicken Stuart as much. The shapely, the gorgeous, the rather vindictive Dana Potts, she couldn’t wait to hop up on the stage.
“Recipient of journalism, Dana Potts,” the announcer told everyone.
Dana jumped up and down as she swung her arms side-to-side. Graduating from a top university was one big deal since no one in her family had ever gone to college.
More proud graduates felt the taste of success while they held their diplomas like keys to a treasure chest.
“Recipient of childhood education, Prudence Cundy,” the announcer said, taking a quick second swallow of water before moving on.
Prudence clutched her diploma with both hands. Like Dana, no one in her family history had ever graduated from college. Her proud parents cheered for their daughter from afar.
“Recipient of Master of fine arts in film, Taylor Warrwick,” the announcer said, President Whitney placing the curled paper into his sweaty palms.
Stuart glanced at Taylor while more of his blood boiled. “I’d like to take that diploma away and whack all of that acne right off his face.”
Cheers in the stands only got louder. The NYPD paid more attention to the rowdier ones. Abdullah Tariq Muhammad stepped up on stage wearing a small cloth across his gown which represented colors from his native Nigeria.
“Recipient of electrical and computer engineering, Abdullah Muhammad,” the announcer spoke, taking another quick swallow of chilled water.
A group of his fellow Nigerians occupied a momentous section of Yankee Stadium. They cheered vigorously for their fellow countryman. David Nguyen would fall in line to receive his diploma.
“Recipient of Juris Doctorate of Law, David Nguyen,” the announcer said, President Whitney handing over his diploma and then shaking his hand.
The last of the egomaniacal eight strided up on the stage.
John O’Connor beamed with pride as he approached President Whitney. The ceremony escalated with much intensity.
“Recipient of pediatric cardiology, John O’Connor,” announced the woman speaker, who, by now, was exhausted.
John felt exhilarated after being handed his medical diploma. Of the egocentric eight, he decided to challenge himself further by earning a medical degree in pediatric cardiology. Much respect came from his peers. He held a grip onto President Whitney’s hand tighter than any vice machine. The ceremony finally ended. Thousands of NYU graduates snatched off their caps and slung them high in the air. One might’ve thought the Yankees won another World Series.
Stuart earned his diploma in veterinary medicine, but refused to receive it publicly. In fact, he made sure his name was omitted from the roster of graduates. Receiving it in the mail was good enough. Before attendees left Yankee Stadium, a sense of order was maintained. People around him jumped to other seats. A mother and daughter screamed their lungs into near collapse.
The same colossal rat spotted by Stuart at the motel and inside the subway station somehow appeared at Yankee Stadium. Its eyes glowed like laser beams. Stuart seemed to be the only one who wasn’t afraid. NYPD officers and other added security came running after hearing the screams. Pistols and tasers were drawn upon sight. The rat stood up on its hind legs and an accented glow resonated from its body.
“That thing comes anywhere near me, I’m shooting it,” one of the NYPD officers assured his fellow officers.
“Why are its eyes glowing like that?” inquired another officer, his pistol aimed straight for the the rat’s eyes.
“Did that thing come from outer space?”
“Doesn’t look like its of this world.”
“How’d it get in Yankees Stadium? I’ve brought my kid to many Yankees games, yet I’ve never seen a single rat here at the stadium.”
“You’ve forgotten, we’re in the Bronx.”
Quicker than a flash of light, the rat disappeared. The officers thought their minds played tricks on them. Their pistols and tasers were withdrawn. To their amazement, Stuart wasn’t afraid to be within proximity of the monstrous rodent. Why was it so? Powers had been invested in him. The security team returned to police the gates to the stadium. Stuart coveted anonymity by hiding behind exiting crowds.
Huddled over in their own section near the baseball field was the egomaniacal eight. How proud they were to be college graduates in promising careers. How prouder they’d become after going into the respective professions and earning top dollars. Pictures were snapped once they picked out a pose. Stuart hid behind one of the wide beams used to construct part of the new Yankees Stadium. Listening closely, he overheard Anthony tell the others how earning their diplomas called for a celebration. He staked out a nice bar and grill in the more ritzy section of Manhattan. Stuart was sure to follow.


CHAPTER—9

GREAT TO CELEBRATE

Anthony Greenstein and the rest of the egomaniacal eight arrived at The Watering Hole Bar and Grill on East 19th Street there in “Money Making Manhattan”. Anthony showed his diehard generosity by having a stretched black limousine pick everyone up from the graduation ceremony at Yankees Stadium. All eight were thirsty souls, thirsty for some alcohol, strong enough to leave them drunk out of their minds.
The bar crammed in the usual crowd of college students and Manhattanites. Megan and the others reached into their purses and pockets for their credit cards and cash to pay for their drinks and meals. Anthony gestured to his fellow graduates how he’d pay for everything. Their eyes gained approval after he flashed his platinum Master Card with a twenty-thousand dollar credit limit. Straight and mixed drinks of every kind were handed over by the attentive bartenders.
Shielding his identity with a menu in the back of the crowded bar was Stuart Duffelmeyer. He watched as the egocentric eight slammed down mixed drinks and beers, while tastefully dining on nachos, buffalo wings, and potato skins.
Anthony held up a bottle of frosty beer and said to the others, “I’d like to propose a toast to all my fellow NYU classmates who’ve now received their degrees. Now, it’s time for us to make the big bucks and squash the small people who are nothing but peons in our world.”
The others held up their drinks and bottles of beer. Clanking glass echoed throughout the congested bar. How arrogant of Anthony to make such a statement. In his own selfish world, it was easy to hurt others when he didn’t feel no pain.
Megan held up her sweaty glass of brandy and coke. “Guys, I’d like to propose a toast to you for working so hard to get your diplomas. Anthony’s right, we’re going to make the big bucks and crush the small people who obstruct our path. They don’t deserve what is rightfully our’s.”
Another toast took place amongst the group of self-centered and conceited jerks who looked down on the less-fortunate. Stuart moved the menu down and half his face became visible. Every bragging word coming out their mouths resonated back to him. A pain rung in his ears from listening to them belittle others. When a great philosopher stated how what goes up must come down, Stuart wouldn’t rest until all of eight of them came down.
Dana sipped from her glass of vodka and sprite after dunking a chip down into the warm nacho sauce. “Hey, did any of you guys see Stuart at the graduation?”
Prudence took bite into a spicy buffalo wing and wiped her mouth. “That’s strange, he wasn’t in the ceremony to receive his diploma.”
“I think we all know why he didn’t show up for graduation,” Anthony mentioned to his posse, nursing a chilled bottle of German beer.
“Would it have something to do with a mechanical sex doll?” Taylor joked, nibbling on a tender potato skin.
“You’ve got big jokes, Taylor,” Megan said, the alcohol taking slow effect. “But they’re the jokes that we all like.”
“Wonder if that nerd will ever get laid?” John asked with perplexity, his glass of gin and grapefruit juice altering his coordination.
“Didn’t Stuart get his diploma in veterinary medicine?” Abdullah inquired, working on his fifth beer.
“When I looked at the registration, he was a recipient of veterinary medicine,” David disclosed, feeling the effects of his third glass of Remi Martin and coke.
Long before the night ended, they had plans on getting trashed. Stuart watched them from afar as they drunk themselves into oblivion. College graduates like them felt they deserved the right to guzzle down as much alcohol as they could stand. The Watering Hole Bar and Restaurant erupted into cheers while sports fans watched various sporting events.
Anthony bogarted his way to the center of the floor. “C’mon, guys, let’s show them that we can blow the roof off the house. On the count of three, lets all shout ‘yeah’ as loud as we can.”
They counted to three and yelled the loudest they’d ever done. “Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
Their bellies were full with food and alcohol. Some had surpassed their limit. Anthony ordered more drinks for everyone. He went around to the seven individuals and thanked them for their part in making the prank on Stuart a big success.
“Megan, my lovely,” Anthony purred intoxicatingly. “Thank you for providing the voice. You did a magnificent job in fooling the biggest nerd in all of New York City.”
Anthony and Megan toasted as he moved one seat over at the bar. “Dana, my dear, you were splendid in putting those maggots in the bed with the sex doll and dumping them on Stuart.”
Anthony and Dana toasted as he moved a couple of feet down. “Prudence, my sweetheart, it was brilliant of you to have spread that gooky-slimy crap all over the floor. I laughed my spine out of place after Stuart fell to the floor.”
Anthony and Prudence tapped glasses while he slid one bar seat over. “Abdullah, my wonderful Pan-African brother, you were marvelous with working those lights that night at the motel in the Bronx. Stuart probably thought he came to a disco to meet a hot chick or something.”
Anthony and Abdullah joined glasses in a toast. He moved to the next seat. “David, my resplendent Korean brother, how genius of you to play the kinda music which lured Stuart straight over to the bed.”
Anthony and David toasted as he moved two more seats down. “Taylor and John, my divine dynamic duo, Stuart would’ve never gotten to the motel had it not been for you guys.”
The threesome banged glasses in complete celebration. The egomaniacal eight huddled into a circle closer to the front entrance of the bar. Still, they were proud of what they’d done to Stuart. Truth be told, they were prouder of the prank they pulled on Stuart than earning their college degrees in promising career fields. Stuart sat in the back with steam blowing from his mouth and nose and ears. Why couldn’t they just let it go? Would they find amusement behind the prank for a lifetime?
Megan swayed side-to-side since the drinks controlled her coordination. In a sad, yet intoxicated voice, she said, “Guys, when’re we going to see one another again?”
Dana’s eyes bounced around in the drunkest fashion. “Megan’s right, guys. Is this the end of the road for all of us?”
“What’s with all the sad faces?” Anthony interjected. “Guys, it’s time for us to part ways. What did we say about going into our professions and making the big bucks?”
“It’s time for us to go and conquer the world,” Prudence added, alcohol soaked all into her brain.
“Will everyone promise to keep in touch?” Abdullah suggested, his speech slurred and broken.
Everyone nodded their heads to express their loyalty to one another. Little did they know that Anthony only assembled them to pull off his own personal prank against Stuart. He didn’t give a damn about any of them. Why couldn’t they see it? Stuart could see straight through Anthony as though he were polished glass. Wearing dark shades and a thick winter hat in the dead of Spring, he rushed out of The Watering Hole Bar and Restaurant. On the way out, he shoved Anthony and bumped the others one-by-one.
“Hey, what’s your problem, buddy?” Anthony repudiated, part of the drink spilled on his shirt.
“Somebody needs to teach him some manners,” Megan said, a big wet ring across her shirt after the hard shove.
Manners? Did Megan say manners? What Stuart had just done to them was quite mannerable, compared to what they’d done to him. He had big plans for the egomaniacal eight. In his own due time, he would get the last laugh. They’d had their fun. Now, it was time for him to have his fun.


CHAPTER—10

A RAT’S RATIONALIZATION

The power to control animals and nature on Earth were placed in the hands of Stuart Duffelmeyer. With the power invested in him, he knew there were certain restrictions. Harsh abuse of any kind wouldn’t be tolerated. The forces of the Universe were on his side. Maliciously evil intentions were set aside once he embarked upon his journey to get even with those who’d made his life hell on Earth.
The digital watch wrapped tight around his thin wrist read 2:25 a.m., Eastern Standard Time. New York City hadn’t quite fallen asleep. The drunks and druggies and streetwalkers wandered with no purpose through the dirty streets of Manhattan. Stuart walked amongst them angrier than a general after having lost a major war. An hour after leaving The Watering Hole Bar and Restaurant, he strolled from one avenue of Manhattan to another.
His intuition would lead him down into the subway station to possibly catch the six train to a destination to somewhere he wasn’t sure of. Bags and bags of trash were piled up against the wall. A smaller group of passengers poured into the station after coming from or going to work. Two large rats jumped out of the trashbags. Unafraid, Stuart watched them crawl his direction. Acting on impulse, he executed fierce mind concentration, then rubbed the center of the magical talisman. The ground inside the subway station shook with much force.
Miraculously, the powers of the Universe boldered into the station and split the railings to the trains. The ground underneath the railings burst open and pulled Stuart deep under its confines. Passengers waiting on the platform couldn’t believe their eyes. A clerk behind the glass slumped to the ground from sheer amazement. The train railings were joined back together and the ground closed up.
At least two-hundred feet underneath the Earth, Stuart emerged into a world he never knew existed. Waiting for him inside this strange world were rats. Thousands upon thousands of big and small rats were assembled in an orderly fashion. Brown ones. Black ones. White ones. They were lined up next to one another like military soldiers. From Manhattan, Queens, Brooklyn, Bronx and Staten Island, these rodents came out in full force.
No indication of fright came from Stuart. It was inevitable the day would come for them to meet up. The colossal rat spotted by him at the motel in the Bronx, in the subway station, and at Yankees Stadium, appeared from out of the dark shadows of the Earth. The intense cosmic glow still radiated from its eyes and brown shaggy fur. The brightest neon yellow formed a protective barrier around its body. Cosmic powers from the Universe had taken partial effect. Stuart and the human-sized rat stared deeply into one another’s eyes. The structure of their eye components were the same. He and the rodent studied the innermost depths of their iris’, pupils, lens’, retinas and optic nerves. The cornea and anterior chamber of their eyes transmitted messages into the cerebrum, cerebellum, hippocampus and stem of their brains. Supernaturally, a matching neon yellow glow surrounded the body of Stuart. Within seconds, the cosmic glow from the Universe formed a shield around the thousands of rats which filled up hundreds of yards of underground space. Stuart’s human eyes and brain projected telepathic messages to the mammalian eyes and brains of every rat present. Receptors translated a language between them that only they understood.
“Do you know who I am?” Stuart asked the rat of human proportions.
“You have been ordained to be my master,” the rat answered back, the shield intensifying its glow.
“Do you know who has ordained my powers?”
“The One Most High, The Ruler of the Universe, has ordained your powers, master.”
“You are correct,” Stuart vouched. “From this day forward, I will be your master. You will forever address me as your master. Am I understood?”
“You are understood, master.”
“You are to obey my every command. You are to show up when you’ve been summoned. Do you understand me?”
“I understand, master.”
“The One Most High has all power over you, over myself, over the Earth, and over all of the Universe. It is through him that my powers have been activated. When you have been given orders, you are to perform them to the best of your ability. Is that clear?”
“It is clear, master.”
“Your powers are great and they are not to be used for abominations. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master, I understand.”
“Greatness will follow in the wake of your presence. The Earth will submit to your powers and obey the will submitted by The One Most High. Are the words that I have spoken to you clear?”
“The words you have spoken are clear, master.”
Stuart stepped closer to the rat and placed both hands on top of its head. “From this day forward, you will be addressed as ‘General Rahmaanteen’, a very special name in which I have given to you. Your Universal powers will aid many helpless souls on this Earth. Do you understand your new name?”
“I understand, master.”
“General Rahmaanteen, your powers have been fully-activated. Welcome to the sensationalistic family of Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer.”
“Thank you, master.”
Stuart turned his attention to the thousands of other rats. “By powers invested in me by the cosmos of the Universe, I have become the master of everyone of you. Do you understand me?”
“It is understood that we shall obey you, master, and only you shall we obey,” the other colossal rats submitted, bowing in servitude before Stuart.
“No reasonable order will you refuse. I will reward those that honor my requests with simplicity.”
“You are to obey General Rahmaanteen. Do all of you understand?”
“Yes, master.”
Never in his life had Stuart felt so respected.
Never in his life had he felt in complete control.
Stuart gripped the feet of his newly-appointed general. “General Rahmaanteen, you are to appoint your soliders into positions of lieutenants, colonels, lieutenant colonels, captains, sergeant majors and sergeants. You, of course, are in charge as general.”
“Master, I will serve you as a great general.”
Just like the U.S. Armed Forces, Stuart felt the need to break his army of rats down into troops assigned with different ranks.
“Throughout New York City, you will be assigned certain duties, ones which will entail bringing more peace and unity to this city. Am I understood?”
Every single rat endorsed his words by bowing and nodding their heads.
“Though you’ve come from different boroughs throughout the city, if you are summoned to come into another borough or surrounding areas, like New Jersey and Connecticut, you will absolutely do so. Am I understood?”
Again, the rats nodded in sole accordance.
“Please hear me on this one, my newly-recruited warriors,” Stuart entailed with great emphasis. “For years and years, you’ve been considered a severe plague to this city. You’ve been looked down as nothing but disease-carrying misfit creatures who destroys millions of dollars in property throughout the city. But, I’m here to let you know, that if you have to show up in droves, and if the people of New York look down on you as plagues, then so be it. If we have to plague this city into learning to live with one another, learning to stop committing crimes and hatred towards one another, then so be it. Am I understood?”
“Yes, master.”
The multitude of rats nodded once again.
They moved in closer to Stuart.
“We’ve seen enough madness going on in this city,” Stuart proceeded, speaking facts from the heart. “We’re here to try and stop the murders, the drugs, the rapes, the burglaries, the robberies, the gangs, and all other types of sickness in this city.”
“Master, we are with you all the way to the end,” General Rahmaanteen conceded, a special glow coming from his curved incisors.
“But there is one person in this city that must feel the sting of a true plague. This person must be taught a real good lesson. Yes, General Rahmaanteen, your services will be needed to show this man that he’s not immune from feeling the itch of a plague from a true master like myself.”
“Master, when you require our services, we will be there.”
“Good,” Stuart approved, taking a sharp breath. “Now, I must return to the surface of the Earth. General, I will be summoning you some time in the future.”
Stuart closed his eyes and rubbed the middle of the magical talisman. Within a flash, he’d been returned to the platform level of the subway station. People waiting for their train were quite surprised to see him appear from out of nowhere. How clever of Stuart. He had lots of planning to do since he’d been anointed with special powers over Earthly animals and elements.


CHAPTER—11

JUVENILE IN JEOPARDY

Patience became the one virtue Stuart instituted faithfully into his own life. Five years passed before he decided to make a move on either of the egomaniacal eight. Let the smoke clear. Let things settle. Let the pranksters forget about what they’d done to him that one formidable night at the sleazy motel in the Bronx. Those were his exact sentiments. In the meantime, Stuart decided to open up several businesses which catered to the care and purchasing of animals.
Having wealth provided by the Duffelmeyer real estate fortune, along with a degree in veterinary medicine, Stuart knew it’d be a shame to let the money and education go to waste. The Greenwich Village Veterinary Clinic, The Chelsea Animal Hospital, and Manhattan Animal Specialists, were some he owned and operated. It took a while, but he found employees faithful and honest enough to run his businesses, the ones who kept their hands out of the cash register.
For the past two weeks he rented a room at The Gershwin Hotel there on East 27th Street in Manhattan. The price of a $150.00 dollars a night was no match for his deep pockets. To begin his day, Stuart showered with a green apple gel with steaming hot water pounding onto his slender body. Emerging from the smoky bathroom, he threw the thirsty white towel around his waist while drying off with another one. A larger-than-life portrait of Richard Bernstein hanging above the bed stared at him as though they’d been friends for life.
The Gershwin Hotel decorated its rooms with Andy Warhol and Picasso paintings from one spectrum of the building to the next. Stuart got dressed and walked down the four flight of stairs. Guests of the hotel occupied the lounges which catered to the eclectic taste of all backgrounds. Portraits of Marilyn Monroe, Elvis Presley, Frank Sinatra, James Dean and Humphrey Bogart hung with pride across a long stretch of wall.
“There’s my guy,” Stuart spoke softly under his voice. “Sinatra’s the man, baby. Always have been, and always will be. Yes, Mr. Sinatra, the best revenge is success.”
One of the desk clerks looked over at him with suspicion. “Mr. Duffelmeyer, is everything okay?”
“Oh yeah, everything’s fine. Don’t worry, I’m constantly talking to myself.”
“Don’t we all.”
Stuart walked out on 27th Street. A long row of yellow cabs lined the semi-wide street cluttered with bags and bags of old trash. The Flatiron District of Manhattan was busier than ever. The sun had faded more into the late afternoon hours. Manhattanites crammed every inch of sidewalk space. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of beige paper. The address to one of his father’s business associates was scribbled on it. The residence he needed to find happened to be closeby on East 29th Street. Like other upscale streets, it represented big money.
Stuart found himself going in circles around Midtown Manhattan. New Yorkers like himself were prone to getting lost around the occluded borough. He passed the Fifth Avenue shopping district and beautiful Madison Square Park and still hadn’t found the address. He took a stroll past Macy’s, Penn Station, the Chelsea Art Galleries, and on past The Empire State Building. Not finding the right address brought on a slight headache. He ended up on 29th Street and closely scanned the addresses to the buildings.
There it stood. A beautiful piece of architecture. Stuart glanced to and from the paper to the apartments. The address to the building matched the one on the paper. The Marquis Belvedere at 30 East 29th Street screamed out wealth from the architectural cosmetics. But wealth weren’t the only screams coming from inside the exclusive Manhattan high rise. Screams of potential injustice would soon take place. On the tenth floor of The Marquis, inside apartment 1022, a sinister plot would be hatched. A wild party was financed by one of Wall Street’s most cunning investment bankers.
Sixty-Four year old Kent Sturgis provided dope and booze to five of his lowlife friends who used their wealth and influence for evil purposes. Kent maintained a lean figure from using the property’s fitness center. He kept his thinning white hair trimmed close while he dressed immaculately in Saks Fifth Avenue threads. Botox treatments here and there kept his skin from looking like an old white prune. As a group of six dirty old men, their sick, perverted fetish was for young girls. Teenagers or young and old women were out of the question.
Girls at least twelve or younger were suited more towards their taste. A delicate knock sounded at the door of apartment 1022. Kent peeped into the hole and opened the door with a devious smile on his face. Walking through the door was sixteen year old Aleksandra Morozov and her ten year old younger sister, Aleksis Morozov. Both were Russian girls who’d recently immigrated to the United States from the poorest section of Russia with their parents. Too bad neither of their parents knew what was about to take place. Aleksandra had a slender face accented by her long feathery brunette hair. Aleksis sported more of a round face set off by her strawberry blonde hair. Both girls had developing, eye-catching bodies. Kent invited them in and introduced them to his five immoral friends. Handshakes and hugs were exchanged among the group.
Kent called Aleksandra to the side. The pair ventured into the kitchen to do business. “Wasn’t your price a thousand dollars?”
“A thousand dollars, it was, sir,” Aleksandra answered in strongly broken English.
“And that includes everything?”
“Yes, everything, sir.”
“Can my friends and I have her anyway we want her?”
“Anyway you want her, sir.”
Kent penetrated her estranged eyes. “Now, if the police comes asking, what’re you going to tell them?”
“That……uh…….some drunk homeless men raped and beat her.”
“Good, sweetheart, very good.”
In the front room of the elaborate apartment, all five of Kent’s friends guzzled liquor down their throats and vacuumed cocaine up their noses. Only sickos like them would have to be doped up and boozed up to do what they’d planned to do to ten year old Aleksis. How shameful to be sold as a sex slave by her older sister. From where they’d come from, only the fittest survived. Doing things beyond sinful was a way of life. The perverted men fondled the innocent
little girl. Kent handed over ten crispy one-hundred dollar bills to Aleksandra. Never had she even touched such a large amount of cash.
Stuart walked up to the front entrance of The Marquis Belvedere. He stopped when he came before the six-foot-six frame of the doorman. The doorman’s services could’ve been used more towards being a bodyguard for Hollywood celebrities.
“Can I help you, sir?” asked the barritoned voice of the doorman.
“I’m here to see Sebastain Plettenberg,” Stuart announced, partially intimidated by his huge frame.
“Is Mr. Plettenberg expecting you?”
“Yes, he is.”
“And you are?”
“Stuart Duffelmeyer from Duffelmeyer Realtors and Associates. Mr. Plettenberg is an associate of my father’s real estate firm.”
Stuart was granted access to the front lobby. A clerk from behind a desk phoned upstairs to verify his identity. He was cleared and got on the elevator. A push of the number ten button and he began his journey upstairs. Stepping off the elevator, he heard the cries of a little girl.
“Stop! Stop!” hollered the innocent and helpless juvenile female, coming from right inside apartment 1022. “No, no, let me go!”
The apartment Stuart wanted to search for was down the hall. Major real estate player Sebastian Plettenberg lived in apartment 1028. Saving a ten year old girl from being rigorously violated by a group of sadistic sickos was far more important than dropping off a set of real estate property documents for his father. Stuart closed his eyes tight and vigorously rubbed the center of the magical talisman. A strong, radiating glow formed around the talisman. Telepathic messages were sent straight to General Rahmaanteen and his army. The general received the message within seconds. Upon the request of Stuart, they superordinarily appeared inside of apartment 1022. Kent and his five culprits restrained Aleksis down on the bed by her feet and hands. Aleksis was half-clothed. Her pretty and young face was flushed. She cried enough tears to stain the pillow underneath her head with big wet circles.
The band of six sickos were just about to make their move. A cosmic glow spilled into the bedroom. Kent and his buddies looked over by the door and couldn’t believe their eyes. Aleksandra ran over to the corner and stooped down. She covered her face in shame. The room converted to a crippling silence after General Rahmaanteen and part of his army stepped inside.
“What the hell!” Kent muzzled, moving away from the bed, his mouth almost dropped to the floor.
“You’re sicker than the sickest of the most sickening men on this Earth,” General Rahmaanteen spoke in defense of Aleksis.
“Who are you and where’d you come from?” Kent wondered, scared stiff after witnessing a phenomenon he wasn’t supposed to.
“I’m your worst nightmare, Kent. Not only are you and your buddies here conniving thieves down on Wall Street, but now you’re trying to steal the innocence of this beautiful little young girl.”
Kent shook while his mouth trembled with fear. “But……but……rats aren’t supposed to talk. You’re the biggest damn rat that I’ve ever seen in all of New York City. Somebody has cursed this apartment with that voodoo hoodoo junk.”
General Rahmaanteen whisked across the room and grabbed Kent into a tight chokehold. “Kent, you are nothing but a plague to our society. We have come to rescue this little girl. We have been sent by our master to correct your wrongs. My army and I will now plague you with pain and suffering.”
Stuart showed up at the opportune time.
“Who is your master?” Kent asked in a gargled voice. “What are New Yorkers feeding you damn rats these days?”
“None of your business, you sorry sicko.”
General Rahmaanteen released the chokehold and signaled with his large paws. The soldiers in his army knew their orders. The lieutenant and the colonel grabbed two of Kent’s friends and started working them over. There they were, in full action, striking powerful blows to their faces and chests. They kicked them in the mid-section and along the kneecaps. The master sergeant and sergeant snatched two more of Kent’s friends and pounded away at their faces and other sensitive body parts.
Another soldier pulled the fifth culprit by his shirt collar and struck him dead in the center of his mouth. Three of his front teeth went flying out of his mouth and onto the floor. Bloody noses stained the expensive carpet in the bedroom. There it was. A bedroom brawl between normal-sized human males and super-sized rodent males.
General Rahmaanteen bloodied the nose of Kent and blacked both of his eyes. But the general was far from done. With his tail having the thickness and durability of a rodeo bullwhip, he whacked Kent with several lashes up and down his body. Puffy red welts bubbled to the surface of his skin. Members of the army also used their mighty tails to give Kent’s posse of five burning licks up and down their bodies. Boy were they in pain! They too had many stinging welts to smolder to the top.
“Had enough yet, Kent?” the general asked, holding him up in mid-air.
Kent responded in a slurpy voice. “How is it so that a bunch of giant-sized talking rats have come into my apartment and have taken over? This just can’t be real. This just can’t be happening to me.”
“Oh, it’s real alright, buddy,” the general assured Kent. “This nightmare you’re witnessing is happening while you’re still awake.”
“Somebody put a spell on me.”
“You put a spell on yourself.”
General Rahmaanteen sent telepathic messages out to more of his army. Seconds later, several more colossal rats appeared inside Kent’s apartment. They’d been ordered to absolutely wreck every inch of space around his luxury apartment hideway. One soldier went into the kitchen and destroyed the granite countertops and kohler fixtures.
The central water filtering system got ripped out from the sink. Water gushed onto the floor and destroyed the expensive marble tiles. Two more soldiers paraded through the living room and destroyed Kent’s expensive sofa and table sets. Ripped sofa fabric and broken pieces of glass and marble were scattered all over the carpet.
General Rahmaanteen growled at Kent with his long sharp incisors. “Kent, it deeply angers me and my master that this ten year old girl Aleksis would be lured to your apartment to satisfy you and your buddie’s sexual perversions. Right here in New York City, a four month old baby was raped until she was murdered by her very own father. My master cried many, many tears for that baby. Why do humans have to be like that? Don’t they know that it’s a terrible sin? You and your dirty friends didn’t follow through with your plans, but you’ve put a lifetime scar on Aleksis.”
Kent spit blood onto the general as he tried to speak correct English. “Why should you care? You’re nothing but a stinking rat, anyway. Rats don’t give a damn about nothing but biting people and spreading diseases. Every since you and your army popped up in my apartment, you’ve spread nothing but filth in here.”
“Who do you think you’re talking to?” General Rahmaanteen snarled, slapping Kent a few times in the face with his whip-like tail.
He released Kent and stepped over to the corner where Aleksandra was stooped down in a curled position. “Young lady, how could you do such a horrible thing? How could you try and sell your sister to a bunch of savages like these? I do not wish to bring harm to you, but these men are sick and need severe punishment of some type. It’s bad enough to place yourself in harm’s way, but to place your baby sister in harm’s way, that’s unspeakably unexcusable. How do you know that these men weren’t going to beat and rape you after they were going to beat and rape your sister?”
Aleksandra spoke with reluctance. “It just doesn’t seem real to me. Rats aren’t supposed to talk. Rats aren’t supposed to get as big as you are. No one would believe me if I told them that I talked with a rat bigger than a football player. No one would believe Mr. Sturgis and his friends if they told them that they’d talked to humongous rats. Yes, I’m sorry for trying to sell my little sister to these men. But, we come from the poorest part of Russia and desperately need money. My family and I are starving and can’t find any other way to make money.”
“Know one thing, young lady. There’s a such thing as pride and dignity. Don’t ever sell your pride and dignity no matter what. They should never be for sell. Right now, my army and I have to leave. But, before we do, I want you to call 911 and tell them what almost took place up in this apartment. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
General Rahmaanteen and his soldiers tied Kent and his buddies up with ripped apart sheets. Their hands and feet were bound together tightly to make sure they wouldn’t try and make a getaway. The colossal rats faded away like material going back into the spiritual world. Aleksandra found a cordless phone in the front room and dialed 911.


CHAPTER—12

BROKEN, BUSTED AND BOOKED

After Aleksandra punched in the three magical numbers of 911, then explained her situation in full details, members of the elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit arrived at The Marquis Belvedere in record time. Coming into apartment 1022 hit them with the surprise of a lifetime. Detectives from the Midtown North Precinct there in Manhattan were stunned to find Kent Sturgis and his five perverted partners tied up with bloody noses and blacked eyes.
“What the heck happened in here?” asked lead SVU detective Karen Catalina, staring down at the six men who looked like subjects of a brutal robbery and assault.
Other detectives scoured the apartment to begin their search for clues and evidence.
Kent rolled over on his side in agony. “Help! Somebody help me, please!”
Karen Catalina lifted him up and sat him on the side of the bed. “Who are you, sir?”
“I’m Kent Sturgis, investment banker with a top firm down on Wall Street,” Kent explained, his eyes barely open enough to see Karen clearly. His mouth was busted all up from multiple punches.
His status meant nothing to Karen. She wanted to get the investigation underway. “Sir, we received a call that a young girl was in the process of being gang raped by six men. Would you happen to be one of the men who attempted to rape this young girl?”
“Not me, detective,” Kent denied, lying straight through his busted-up mouth. “Detective, you probably won’t believe me, but a bunch of rats, I’m talking rats bigger than ‘Mean’ Joe Green, came in and took over my apartment. These rats talked good English like human beings. These rats had a glow around them like they had supernatural powers. They’re the ones who beat us up and then tied our hands and feet together.”
Karen glanced over at the bedside table and saw a pile of white powder substance. “Sir, could it have been all that cocaine you snorted that had you hallucinating? Everyone knows that rats don’t talk, let alone grow to sizes bigger than ‘Mean’ Joe Green. God knows there are enough of them in this city.”
“Detective, I’m not lying,” Kent defended, all hysterical behind the takeover of General Rahmaanteen and his army. “These rats had big muscles like a body builder. One of them was like the leader of some army from outer space.”
Karen soon noticed the boil-like welts over his body. “Where’d you get all those red marks along your chest and arms?”
“The big rat whipped me with it’s tail.”
“Sir, you might need a serious psychiatric evaluation. You’ve got me believing that you’ve blown a fuse.”
Another plain clothes detective from the Special Victims Unit signaled for Karen to come into the front room. There, Aleksandra and Aleksis sat on the ripped up sofa hugged up with one another. Karen was briefed and introduced to the two sisters. She studied them and could tell there’d been something malicious going on.
“Hello young ladies,” Karen said as her way of warming up to them. “I’m detective Karen Catalina with the NYPD’s Special Victims Unit. I want you to explain to me exactly what happened inside this apartment.”
Aleksandra volunteered to be the spokesperson. “Mr. Sturgis approached my little sister and I and told us that he’d pay us a lot of money if he and his friends could have sex with her.”
“Who’s Mr. Sturgis?”
“The man you were talking to in the bedroom.”
“You mean the pervert I was just talking to in the bedroom. Okay, where did you and your little sister first meet Mr. Sturgis?”
“Down by Times Square. We were just out walking, and then he drove up in a real nice car.”
“He propositioned you all by wanting to have sex with your little sister?”
“Yes, he did.”
“How old is your little sister?”
“Ten.”
“How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“How much did he offer to have sex with your little sister?”
“A thousand dollars.”
Karen exhaled a wind of disappointment. Her eyes shifted to a mode of sadness. “And did you accept his offer?”
“Yes, yes I did,” Aleksandra admitted, breaking out into exceptional tears.
“So, you agreed to pimp out your sister?”
“Yes.”
“And how did you arrive here at his apartment?”
“We caught the subway train.”
“Aleksandra, why would you want to sell your sister out to a buncha sickos?” Karen asked in the most straightforward tone.
Aleksandra wiped tears away from her flushed cheeks. “My little sister and I immigrated here to the U.S. with our parents. We left Russia with nothing and we still have nothing. We are so poor until we can barely heat our home and keep food on the table.”
“Don’t you know about social programs that can help you and your family. These programs here in New York can help you find jobs, pay your rent, buy food and clothes, and have access to transportation around the city. Darling, you don’t have to stoop down so low to survive.”
“I wish we would’ve know that when we came to America.”
“Now, tell me how those men were beaten and tied up.”
Aleksandra aggressively shook her head. “An army of monstrous rats that glowed came in here and took over. These rats beat them bad and tied them up until you guys got here.”
“Kent Sturgis told me that these rats could speak good English. Is that true?”
“Yes, it’s true. They were real big with muscles everywhere.”
“I want to believe you guys, but it’s just not true. Rats don’t talk, nor do they have big muscles bulging everywhere.”
“You have to believe me,” Aleksandra insisted, embracing Karen over the shoulders. “There was a bright glow around these rats, like they had some type of special powers from another planet.”
“Don’t tell me that you were doing cocaine, too.”
“No, no, I don’t do drugs.”
All the time Karen and Aleksandra discussed the goings on in apartment 1022, Stuart stood anonymously outside the door, listening to every word of their conversation. How pleasant it was to know that he’d used the powers granted to him to stop the potentially violent rape of a juvenile girl. Working through General Rahmaanteen and the soldiers paid off in the biggest way.
Kent Sturgis and his five culprits were handcuffed and read their Miranda rights. Police laboratory personnel from the Forensic Investigation Division had gone around the apartment with rape kits and latent fingerprint kits to collect possible evidence. Before uniformed officers took Kent Sturgis away for booking, Karen stopped him at the door.
“You’re one sick puppy, Kent Sturgis,” Karen said confrontationally. “Though you and your scumbag buddies didn’t follow through with raping her, Aleksis will suffer mental and emotional damage for the rest of her life. It upsets my stomach to know that lowlifes like you exist in our society. But, I do see something good coming out of this.”
“What would that be?” Kent asked, smiling quite perversely.
“When you go to jail, you’re going to see what it’s like to get raped.”
“Oh, how nice of you, detective.”
“I have two daughters around her age. I hope and pray that they’ll never run across creeps like you. Now, get this disgusting puke away from me and book him.”
Kent and his buddies were escorted out of apartment 1022. Stuart waited by the elevators after having slid the envelope under the doorway of Sebastian Plettenberg.
“Hell hasn’t even begun to warm up for you!” Stuart growled out at Kent.
Kent lashed back at Stuart by saying, “Mind your own business!”
Using powers granted by easy access of the Universe, Stuart quickly transformed himself into General Rahmaanteen. Only Kent recognized that he’d been turned into a huge rat in a general’s uniform. He had to play mind games with him before they got him downtown.
“There’s that big rat again!” Kent yelled in the highest octave, jerking and twisting away from the arresting officers.
One of the NYPD officers escorting him to the elevator said, “Once we book him down at the precinct, we should get one of the psychiatric doctors to inject him with a sedative.”
A white SUV truck from the NYPD with blue stripes waited out on the street in front of The Marquis Belvedere. Parked behind the truck were three squad cars. Kent was placed in the first squad car while his underlings were placed in the last two. Too bad they didn’t live by the three words beginning in red letters and continuing in blue letters marked on the side of the SUV. Courtesy. Professionalism. Respect. They were the words that would’ve kept Kent and his buddies from attempting a horrendous crime.


CHAPTER—13

POWER IN THE TOWER

Not a soul in New York City knew Stuart possessed magical powers. Not a soul in the United States knew he’d been granted special powers over animals and nature. Not a single living soul in the world knew he could speak to the creatures and elements of the Earth and they’d obey him on command. Only the powers of the Universe knew he’d been anointed by The One Most High to engage in such majestical dominion.
Stories about Kent Sturgis conversing with and being subdued by man-sized rats somehow found its way into an editorial column in the New York Times. Surprisingly, people in New York City and around the country took a slight interest. This tickled the most sensitive funnybone of Stuart. Only he knew the goings on behind the scenes. Psychiatrists went into the prison to evaluate Kent. They somehow wanted to see if he’d become certifiably insane.
Stuart tested his first execution of power and was quite proud of it. He now wanted to move on. Five years and some long change had passed since the egomaniacal eight had wronged him. His constitution remained, “From pulling a prank on me, to being plagued by me.”
Yes, he wanted to turn the tables. There had to be some retribution for what they’d done to him. The first name pulled from his list was Anthony Greenstein. The manipulative and pompous socialite had forgotten about the trail of pain he’d left behind after masterminding the prank on Stuart. After receiving his master’s degree in business administration, with a minor in marketing from NYU, he’d gone on to do very well for himself.
The mass Greenstein fortune was created long before Anthony decided to form his mega-powerhouse marketing and advertising firm called A.G.E. The letters A.G.E. were the acronym for: “Anthony Greenstein Enterprises”. His firm occupied every single floor of the Greenstein Towers there in Midtown Manhattan.
The pristine piece of property had been constructed at the sole consent of Anthony’s father, the powerhouse banker and broker, Aldolphus Greenstein. Serious millions continued to swell the coffers of the Greenstein fortune. Scratching on the edges of those big millions were possible billions. Aldolphus’ philosophy remained that no man could ever have too much, as long as others didn’t have as much or more than himself. The shiny silver letters A.G.E. sat high near the top of the sixty-story office building.
A long stretched black limousine pulled up in front of A.G.E. Towers. A light wind from the north end of the Atlantic blew as the chauffer opened the door for Stuart. The skies were partly sunny with a mild late Spring temperature of 73 degrees. Stuart emerged from limousine and the winds blew his pants legs back and forth. The sidewalks grew to its usual shoulder-to-shoulder congestion.
“Have a pleasant day, Mr. Greenstein,” said the chauffer, giving his boss a million-dollar smile.
Anthony returned no reply. Even the man who transported him back and forth to work was beneath him. He rolled his eyes back at the chauffer like a distressed old woman.
The doorman opened the front doors to Greenstein Towers and said, “Good morning, Mr. Greenstein.”
Like the chauffer, Anthony offered no reply. The elevator operator saw him coming and knew what to expect.
“Good morning to you, Mr. Greenstein,” the elevator operator politely spoke, holding the phoniest smile on his face.
A top security personnel from behind a desk looked over at Anthony and said, “Mr. Greenstein, good morning to you. Have a very blessed day, Mr. Greenstein.”
Anthony swung his head up in the air and blatantly ignored his chief of security.
You see, if the chauffer, the doorman, the elevator operator, and security chief decided not to speak to their boss, they knew they’d lose their jobs. Like so many other people who sucked up to their bosses, they had to fake it in order to support their families by paying the rent, keeping food on the table, making sure the utilities stayed on, and clothes on everyone’s back. Once Anthony wasn’t in their presence, it was such a relief.
Anthony arrived on the thirty-second floor of the skyscraper. He stepped off with a presence as though he ruled corporate America. Clerks from the mailroom greeted him by each of them saying, “Good morning to you, Mr. Greenstein. How are you doing?”
As usual, he returned no reply. Copyeditors and graphic designers all greeted him with the salutation, “Hello, Mr. Greenstein. How are you doing this morning?”
To not a one of them did he say good morning. The thirty-one year old powerhouse CEO of Anthony Greenstein Enterprises didn’t have to speak back. He signed the checks. He did the hiring and firing. He endorsed the paperwork for all the supplies which came into his company.
Not speaking to your employees for no given reason wasn’t no way to run a corporation. Where did such arrogance originate? Some believed it was his father, the cheap and ruthless Aldolphus Greenstein. It’d been said how Aldolphus squeezed a penny hard enough until Abraham Lincoln screamed.
“Make people fear you,” Aldolphus once told his young son. “Once they fear you, then you control them. Once you control them, then you’ve given them no other alternative than to be loyal to you.”
Anthony knew that many of his employees were at the brink of the poverty level. He knew they had mortgage payments, car notes, and college tuition for their children. If they wanted to maintain a stable lifestyle, they had no other recourse than to be loyal to his empire. A rising sun dominated the Manhattan skyline.
Strutting domineeringly down the thick carpeted hallway, Anthony stopped at the desk of his favorite secretary. “Good morning, Elaine. How are you doing today?”
There she sat. All five-foot-seven inches, one-hundred and ten pounds of her, sitting in the most elegant manner. A pair of glistening eyes stopped men in their tracks. A head of long wavy brown hair and porcelain skin commanded the attention of any setting. Elaine Cameron was her name. For more than two years, she’d been Anthony’s prized secretary. Employees of A.G.E. often wondered why he went out of his way to speak to her. Wasn’t it obvious to any of them? Perform special favors for the boss and you climbed the corporate ladder.
“Good morning to you, Mr. Greenstein,” Elaine spoke in her usual pleasant tone. “Looks like it’s going to be a beautiful day.”
“Not as beautiful as you,” Anthony flirted, his voice laced with seductive tones.
“Well, thank you very much.”
“Listen, Elaine, I want you to hold all of my calls. I’ve got a ten o’clock meeting in the main boardroom with some of my associates”
“Will do, Mr. Greenstein.”
“See ya later?” he asked, a cunning grin on his face.
“Yes you will.”
Ten o’clock New York time came around. Anthony had long prepared for his meeting with top marketing and advertising executives coming in from around the tri-state region. Seated around the enormous conference table were a total of fifty men who felt they had lots to offer A.G.E. A seventy inch projection screen was rolled down to help kick off the meeting. Pamphlets explaining the latest projections for the company were placed before every executive in the meeting.
“Gentlemen, I’d like thank you all for being in attendance,” Anthony said to all of his constituents. “Anthony Greenstein Enterprises remains a full service marketing and advertising enterprise providing video production, graphic design, website design, adpromotion, and advertising services to New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, and Massachusetts-based clients.”
Anthony took a sip from his bottled water and pressed the ENTER key on his laptop computer. The screen switched pages and he continued. “Here at A.G.E., we believe that a good idea is timeless, and that good marketing is timely. Question, gentlemen. What good is a great idea if no one knows about it? Marketing and advertising is the essential growth of any business organization. With an effective marketing strategy, any business or corporation can stand apart from the competition and customers will remember your name. A.G.E. can help spread the word about anyone who so desires.”
“Your plans for this are what?” asked an associate from the middle of the conference table.
“To start, our in-house television advertising and public relations services,” Anthony presented to everyone in the meeting. “Unlike newspapers, radios, and cable companies that offers one service, A.G.E. works with customers to determine the best medium to reach their targeted audience and to provide the best value. My firm has the best experience in letting clients know what works best for them. A.G.E. creates a brand for our clients, with cohesive graphics and messages that makes our clients stand out in highly competitive markets.”
An associate towards the end of the table asked, “What are some of A.G.E.’s strongest marketing and advertising tools?”
“You name it, we’ve got it,” Anthony answered back with pride. “Print, television, radio, web/e-mail, pay-per-click, pay-per-phone click, just to name a few.”
“How about secondary services here at A.G.E.?”
“There’s also direct mail, which includes list development, fundraising campaigns, brochures, postcards, and business replies.”
“What falls in line after that?” asked an associate closer to the front near Anthony.
“There’s e-marketing and event management.”
“Which includes which services?”
“E-newsletters, e-mail campaigns, web development, grand openings and open houses, community lectures and special events.”
Anthony pressed the ENTER key and pages were switched up on the projection screen. “Shares for A.G.E. have risen substantially within the last quarter. We’re looking for shares to double or triple within the next quarter.”
He pressed the ENTER button once again and a new page popped up. Samples of flyers and web designs and television ads were displayed. His business associates were quite impressed.
The meeting had been adjourned. It appeared as though Anthony moved in on strategic business ventures. Handshakes between the business associates were exchanged. His speech pleased them enough to invest their financial resources into A.G.E. The one-time bright Manhattan skies dominated by a glowing sun, now became skies blanketed by darkness. Nine o’clock New York time turned up.
Anthony and Elaine were the only two people left on the thirty-second floor of Greenstein Towers. Security personnel were ordered to shut off elevator service on the floor in which he occupied during after hours. Lights throughout the thirty-second floor offices were either turned off or turned down low. Anthony and Elaine went into his office and the blinds were closed. Elaine caught a quick second glance at part of the Manhattan skyline.
“Got something for me, daddy?” Elaine asked Anthony, using her girlish voice to entice him.
“Got it right here, mama,” Anthony smiled, pulling out a thin stack of fresh one-hundred dollar bills.
“Ahhhhhhh,” she purred, sliding the edges of the crispy bills across her thin nostrils. “There’s nothing better smelling than a stack of fresh bills.”
“There’s always lots more where that came from.”
“Yes, daddy, I know.”
“Wow! You look so good to me.”
Anthony knew Elaine didn’t come cheap. How else was she going to keep her condominium, her BMW Roadster, the diamond rings and watches, and the finest clothes from Saks Fifth Avenue and Nieman Marcus? Being Anthony’s sex toy helped her supplement money along with an already enormous salary he paid her. Standing right outside his office door was Stuart Duffelmeyer. How did he get inside Greenstein Towers and past security? Easy. He possessed special powers to make himself invisible and not be seen by other humans.
Stuart wasted no time. He shut his eyes tight and rubbed the middle of his magical talisman. The forces of the Universe were called upon once again. The cosmic glow formed around the talisman. Through telepathic powers, he summoned General Rahmaanteen and part of his army. The colossal, human-sized rats appeared and were eager to grant Stuart his any wish. General Rahmaanteen listened as Stuart whispered into his ear. The general smiled and bowed his head.
“General Rahmaanteen,” Stuart spoke in the lowest voice. “General, I want you and your army to take over the entire thirty-second floor of Greenstein Towers.”
“I obey, master,” General Rahmaanteen obliged, bending down on one knee in servitude to his master.
“I want you and several of your soldiers to run through this office like a pack of insanely wild dogs. I want you to ransack one end of Anthony’s office to the next.”
“Master, I obey your every command.”
Stuart stepped up and whispered into the ear of the general. The brilliant rodent smiled and nodded his head.
“Would it be a problem?” Stuart asked, snickering under his breath.
“Master, it would not be a problem.”
“General, go and perform your task.”
Back inside the spacious office of Anthony, Elaine tempted him by stripping down to nothing but her bra and panties. Anthony watered at the mouth while he sized up her luscious body. Elaine scooted across the desk and a recent copy of the “New York Times” fell onto the floor. She picked it up and an interesting editorial article flashed before her eyes.
“Well, look’a here,” she wooed. “This editorial says that some Wall Street investment banker claims that his condominium was invaded by giant-sized rats who could speak English.”
“Honey, put that away,” Anthony insisted, ready for a late evening rendezvous. “We all know that rats don’t grow to the size of humans and they don’t talk. It was probably written by some tabloid kingpin who interviewed a whacked out mental patient.”
“No, no, no. It says that he was beaten up and then his hands and feet were tied together by a humongous rat.”
“Elaine!” Anthony snapped. “Let’s not talk about rats, okay? I hate those damn creatures. Nothing on this Earth has given me the creeps like those stinking crawly critters.”
“Okay, let’s get back to our business-at-hand.”
Anthony dropped his gray wool slacks to the ground. Elaine became more surprised when he pulled down his boxer shorts. She was a woman who valued more than the size of a man’s wallet.
“Ready for some fun, daddy?” she asked, pulling him closer for a succulent kiss.
“Our times together speak for itself.”
“Maybe you can teach me some new things.”
“Or we can teach each other some new things.”
Anthony reached back to unloosen her black silk bra. Suddenly, he felt coarse animal hairs gliding across his palms. The odor of days old sewage rushed up his nose. The paws of a familiar creature scratched up and down his back.
What he thought was the mouth of Elaine, was the surface of a rat’s incisors. Whiskers poked him on the side of his face.
“Nooooooooo!” Anthony yelled from great terror, not believing what materialized before his very eyes.
What he once believed to be Elaine, was now a bulky-sized rat with a bright glow around its body frame. General Rahmaanteen unexpectedly appeared before Anthony.
“You’re that rat from the motel in the Bronx!” he recalled, jumping backwards with his entire lower half unclothed.
With powers invested in Stuart from the Universe, General Rahmaanteen transfigured himself into the body of Elaine.
“This must be whacked-out witchcraft or some voodoo hoodoo crap!” he accused, shaking from intense fright.
Elaine was transformed back into her old self before his very eyes. Anthony jerked his head side-to-side and studied her for a moment.
“Anthony, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Elaine wanted to know, slipping back on her clothes and fluffing her hair back in place.
“Elaine, you turned into a great big rat when we started kissing and caressing.”
“Man, you’re one sick puppy. How dare you call me a rat.”
“Elaine, I’m not calling you a rat. All of a sudden, I started feeling rat fur through my fingers. You started smelling like a sewer. When I pressed my lips to yours, it felt like the teeth of a rat.”
“I don’t smell like no sewer. When’s the last time you went to see a shrink?”
“Honey, I don’t need to see a shrink. I’m telling you, I almost made love to a huge rat.”
“You mentioned a motel in the Bronx. A guy of your stature shouldn’t be caught in that rathole-of-a-borough.”
“And a rathole it is.”
“What part of the Bronx?”
“The South Bronx.”
“What!” Elaine rejected. “What were you doing over there in the first place?”
Anthony snickered before he spoke. “Some classmates from NYU and myself pulled a prank on this goofy, nerdy guy.”
“What kinda prank?”
“We put a mechanical sex doll inside a bed in a slum motel in the South Bronx. We had him believing that he was going to get laid. Instead, he got nothing but a buncha hard plastic, some maggots dumped on his head, and some slimy gook that made him fall flat on the ground.”
“Oh Anthony!” Elaine rejected. “How cruel of you.”
“That nerd deserved it.”
Elaine pulled her makeup compact out of her purse and checked her face. “Anthony, the next time you mistake me for some big rat, you’re going to have’ta find another woman to have rendezvous’ with during after hours.”
“Elaine, I’m telling you what happened. You turned into a rat like out’a one of those creature feature movies. Around this thing was like a bright yellow glow.”
“You better go and get your eyes checked. You might wanna get a mental evaluation while you’re at it. Maybe you’re spending too many hours at Greenstein Towers.”
Elaine grabbed her purse and left A.G.E. until tomorrow morning.


CHAPTER—14

VENGEFUL DEBTS

Stuart stood quietly in the hallway of the thirty-second floor. Listening to Anthony mock him by explaining to Elaine how he’d disgraced him at the motel in the Bronx, only spurred him into further action. The jokester refused to let it go. Years after the prank took place, Anthony still found amusement by telling others.
“You played a prank on me,” Stuart chanted to himself in the dim-lit hallway. “Now, you’re going to be plagued by me.”
General Rahmaanteen received further orders from Stuart. Anthony decided to stay after Elaine left for the night. Only he remained on the dead silent floor. So he thought. A rattling noise echoed down the hall from his office.
“Who’s there?” Anthony said, nervous from fright.
More pronounced rattling noises came from the opposite end of the hall.
“Alright, who’s in here?” he asked again, tip toeing to the middle of the hallway.
Papers went flying out one of the doors. They were scattered all over the floor. One of the large copying machines was pushed into the hallway. The machine seemed to have a mind of its own. Anthony moved one scary step at a time. Packets of white copying paper shot out of two opposite doors like rectangular snowflake chunks.
General Rahmaanteen stepped into the hallway with the blinding cosmic glow surrounding his body. “Hey, Anthony, good to see you again, buddy.”
“Yeeeeeeek!” Anthony trembled, not believing what stood before his very eyes.
“That’s right, just came back to visit an old friend.”
“This can’t be real. This has gotta be a nightmare.”
“No, Anthony, it’s really happening.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Wanted to see how an old buddy was doing.”
“But rats don’t talk. Rats don’t grow to be that size.”
“Oh, but we do.”
“Just tell me what you want with me.”
“You had your fun at that motel in the South Bronx. Now, we’ve got to have our fun.”
“So, you were that big rat we saw in the room that night,” Anthony retained, his nerves shot into oblivion.
“How’s the wife?”
“My wife’s fine. Thanks for asking.”
“Don’t you know anything about being faithful?”
“What’re you talking about?”
“Cheating on your wife with your secretary Elaine.”
“Look, that’s none of your business, you stinking rat.”
“Wrong, Anthony. It is my business. And if I have my way, I’m going to tell your wife about you and Elaine.”
“You smelly, rotten, disgusting rat, you don’t even know where I live.”
“I can always find out.”
Anthony reached into one of the adjoining offices and grabbed a long silver golf club. “Let me tell ya something, if you think you’re going to come into Greenstein Towers and take over, then you’re dead wrong.”
“Let’s see what’cha got, Anthony,” General Rahmaanteen challenged, yearning for a fight.
Anthony swung the golf club at the general. The club went straight through him as though he were thin air. He took several more swings and his attempts were useless.
“Little do you know, I’ve got security all over Greenstein Towers.”
“Security is out of your reach.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Anthony rushed into one of the offices and two of the general’s soldiers met him in there. Two rats standing at heights of NBA players were over by the windows jerking the blinds up and down. He sprinted across the hall and into the supply room. Two more soldiers had a jolly good time throwing around copying paper, ink cartridges, pens, pencils, sticky notes, paper clips, and highlighters all across the room and into the hallway. They made a complete mess.
“You’re screwing up my damn office!” Anthony grumbled, sweating heavily from all the running.
Anthony bolted down the opposite end of the hallway. There to accost him was a Rahmaanteen soldier holding a large can of compressed gas duster. The soldier sprayed the duster into the eyes and nose and mouth of Anthony. The pressure caused him to fall straight on his face. He trampled inside an office at the end of the hallway. Yet another solider met him with an aerosol bottle filled with black ink. Several squirts of the ink stained his $2,000 dollar Armani Suit tailor-made from Saks Fifth Avenue.
“You’ve ruined one of my best suits!” Anthony cried out, black ink dripping all over him.
General Rahmaanteen and his soldiers weren’t hardly finished. Anthony ran to the very end of the hallway to find refuge from the enormous rats that had taken over the entire thirty-second floor of Greenstein Towers. Four soldiers lifted him by his arms and legs and threw him into an office where four other soldiers waited with big buckets of spoiled toilet water and open trashbags filled with smelly garbage from the filthy streets of Manhattan. The toilet water and trash went splashing and tumbling down on his head. The embarrassment would have a lifetime effect.
“You’ll pay for this!” Anthony assured the rats, the ones with unexplainable Universal powers. “If it takes me until I’m on my deathbed, you’ll pay for this!”
The fun hadn’t even begun. With clothes stained with ink, a body soaked with sewage smell, and garbage scattered over his face, Anthony felt like the biggest fool in the world. Never had anyone embarrassed him to such magnitude.
In an office next to the one he’d come from, he spared enough expense to call downstairs. “Security! Security! I need you up here on the thirty-second floor right now! There’re some big rats up here tearing my office up. Come as quickly as possible.”
“We’ll be up there as soon as possible, Mr. Greenstein,” replied the head of security.
“Hurry, before these menacing creatures throw me out the window.”
A knock faltered from out in the hallway. Anthony ducked to keep from being hit by the office supplies that were still being thrown from every direction.
“Thank goodness you’ve gotten up here,” Anthony sighed, jerking on the door to let them in.
The door swung open and the surprises were endless. Six more soldiers from the army of General Rahmaanteen showed up wearing security uniforms. They carried guns and flashlights and pepper spray. Rats wearing security uniforms? Anthony couldn’t find such a thing possible.
“Nooooooooooo!” Anthony cried out once more, covering his face in utter confusion.
“You call, Mr. Greenstein?” jokingly asked one of the rat soldiers.
One of the stronger soldiers pushed Anthony back inside. Sitting on top of two expensive copying machines were two other soliders. They pushed them down the hallway and ran head-on into Anthony. The copying machines were crashed and were no longer of use. Their fun still hadn’t ended. Anthony’s worst nightmare had played out before him. Two soldiers wearing the security uniforms took telephone cords and wrapped them tight around his legs. Another two dragged him from one end of the hallway to the next.
“How you feel, Anthony?” asked General Rahmaanteen, smiling down on Anthony.
Anthony huffed in anger as he clutched both fists. “I don’t know who you are, I don’t know where you came from, but I’ll get even with you for what you did to me and to my office.”
“Let’s not talk about getting even,” the general reminded Anthony. “Getting even shouldn’t register on any of your lists. You’ve stepped on a lot of toes and now you’re paying the price. Until you find it in your heart to ask for the forgiveness of those you’ve stepped on, then the fury of hell will follow you everywhere you go.”
“You don’t know nothing about me, pal.”
“Wrong, Anthony. I know a whole lot about you.”
Anthony snatched a pistol out of his desk that he used for target practice. Out of aggravation, he fired several shots at General Rahmaanteen. The bullets went through him like an invisible shield. Why, oh why, did he do such a bad thing? This angered the general to the boiling point. General Rahmaanteen jerked down his suit pants and underwear. He used his razor-like incisors to bite two large chunks out of his backside. Blood stained the edge of his mouth. The fleshy chunks were spit out across the room. Using the agility of his powerful tail, the general lashed him several times across his backside. Stuart couldn’t’ve been more correct. Their callous behavior at the motel room in the Bronx would come back and bite them in the backside.
“Awwwwwwwww!” Anthony wailed, extreme pain setting in.
“You were told that your evildoings would come back and bite you in the backside.”
The general swung his tail back and forth to lash the backside of Anthony several more times.
“Mmmmmmmmm!” Anthony yelled again, followed by more excruciating pain.
“My master has sent me to plague you.”
“Who is your master?”
“The secrets of the Universe will not permit me to reveal who my master is.”
Anthony couldn’t stand another second of humiliation. He slid his back against the wall and stepped away from General Rahmaanteen. In record time, he rushed to the elevator and jetted out of Greenstein Towers. Hysteria had gotten the best of him. Across the street, were parked two NYPD squad cars. They worked the night shift from the Midtown Manhattan precinct. Could they be of any help? Anthony hurried across the street. He bammed uncontrollably on the windows of the squad cars. The officers rolled the windows down and it wasn’t what Anthony expected. Two wrestler-sized rats in NYPD uniforms sat behind the wheel of two squad cars.
“Help me somebody!” Anthony moped, falling to his knees while feeling rather hopeless.
“Everything okay, Anthony?” asked the rat behind the wheel of the first squad car.
The rat behind the wheel of the second squad car asked, “Treating you okay up there in Greenstein Towers?”
“You rats are everywhere!” he vindicated. “Where does it end?”
Little did Anthony know that it’d never end until he apologized to Stuart Duffelmeyer. They’d played out their prank, now Stuart played out his plagues. One down. Seven more to go.


CHAPTER—15

LONE STAR LOCATION

The subtropical humid climate in Dallas, Texas reached a scorching summertime high of 115 degrees. Warm and dry winds from the north and west instigated heat indexes to temperatures which had Dallas residents cranking up their air conditioners. Stuart arrived in Dallas on Delta Airlines at about 2:35 p.m., Central Standard Time. Dallas-Fort Worth International Airport had passengers jam packed from one end of the airport spectrum to the other.
The second Stuart stepped outside, the humid temperatures caused him to break into a sweat. Wet rings had his printed Hawaiian shirt sticking to his back and chest. He noticed one big difference between New York and Dallas. The people in Dallas were much friendlier than the mean ones he’d dealt with back home. Service with a smile came natural to the native Texans.
After renting a car from one of the airport dealers, he drove straight to his downtown hotel. There sat yet another piece of beautiful architecture in downtown Dallas. The Hyatt Regency Hotel bolstered fifty stories of majestically-constructed concrete and steel and glass. The Dallas skyline found esteemed company in the sky. Stuart received royal treatment from the clerks at the front desk upon being handed back his credit card and room key. For a hefty price, he deserved such royal treatment. Five-hundred dollars a night’s worth.
The elevator let him off on the twentieth floor. The carpet he walked across sunk deep into the soles of his brown leather sandals. He slid the plastic card down into the slot and the green sensor flashed. The door appeared to have opened on its own. Stuart came into the room and the feeling of stepping into a king’s palace overtook him. Everything to make his stay comfortable were at his disposal. A sixty-inch flatscreen was bolted inside of a polished oakwood entertainment center. Cable television and pay-per view automatically were programmed for the flatscreen.
A clock radio along with an iron and an ironing board sat on the bedside table and over in the corner. A coffeemaker with a packet of instant coffee were provided for his early morning awakenings. Stuart went into the bathroom and knew how the five-hundred dollars a night might’ve been worth it.
Two thirsty, pure white terry towel robes, a hairdryer, combs and brushes, bowls of fresh fruit potpourri, scented soaps, shower gels and colognes, were all supplied for his hygiene and grooming needs. A miniature refrigerator already filled with bottle water and perishable snacks sat adjacent to the entertainment center. The Hyatt Regency became his home away from home.
Stuart started to unpack. Suddenly, his cell phone rung from the pocket of his cargo shorts. “This is Stuart. What can I do for you?”
“Stuart, this is your dad,” Harry Duffelmeyer announced through his own cell phone.
“Dad, how are you and mom doing?”
“Fine, son, doing just fine. How are you coming along?”
“Doing just great here in Dallas.”
“Dallas?” Harry questioned . “What’re you doing down there?”
“Needed a break from New York.”
“Your mother and I retired here in Florida for a permanent break from New York. Listen, I just wanted to tell you thanks for dropping off those documents to Sebastian Plettenberg.”
“You’re welcome, dad.”
“Son, did you hear about what happened in the Belvedere condo complex?”
“Where I dropped off the papers to Mr. Plettenberg?”
“Yes, the same building where Sebastian lives.”
“What happened, dad?”
“A group of six men were going to gang rape a ten year old Russian girl,” Harry mentioned to his son, doses of sadness in his speech. “These same perverts claim that a buncha man-sized rats stopped them from carrying out their plans. They said that these giant rats could talk plain English, and then roughed them up like a buncha steroid-pumped wrestlers.”
If only Harry could see the flaring smile on Stuart’s face. “Dad, I didn’t hear anything about that.”
“I’d like to know, what is this world coming to? Why would a group of six grown men want to violate a ten year old girl like that?”
Stuart snorted from a slight tinge of anger. “Thank God they didn’t follow through.”
“Were you in the building at the time when this took place?”
“No, dad, I wasn’t.”
Stuart took a moment to recognize the good deed he’d done.
Harry had no clue, but his son, with powers invested in him through the Universe, was mainly responsible in keeping the ten year old Russian girl from being taken advantage of.
“Son, how’re the pet shops and animal clinics coming along?”
“Fine as expected.”
“All of them?”
“Yes, sir. Greenwich Village Veterinary Clinic, Chelsea Animal Hospital, Manhattan Animal Specialists, Pet World and the all the others, they’re doing real good.”
“Showing any significant profit margins?”
“Great profit margins, dad. In fact, my customer clientele base keeps on growing. New Yorkers never stop having sick animals and needing pet supplies.”
“Question, Stuart. Who’re running the pet shops and animal clinics while you’re in Dallas?”
“Close friends that I trust.”
“Do you really and truly trust them?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Are you sure, son?”
“They wouldn’t be working for me if I didn’t.”
“You can never be too careful.”
“You and mom instilled that in me all my life. Look dad, let me get showered and dressed so I can get out and see the city. Give my love to mom, and I’ll talk to you guys soon.”
“Whatever you do, son, just be careful. Always be aware of your surroundings. We’ll talk to you soon.”
“Bye.”
Stuart hung up the cell phone and prepared for a hot relaxing shower.


CHAPTER—16

VISIT WITH THE COLONY

The Dallas skyline containing buildings over 700 feet was a sight to behold. Though a far cry from the Manhattan skyline in New York City, Stuart became mesmerized by the post-modernist architecture of the Bank of America Plaza, the Renaissance Tower, JP Morgan Chase Tower, and Comerica Bank Tower. The series of towers decorated downtown Dallas with elegance. Tourists got a treat once they glanced upon the structures.
After a short night of touring around the city, Stuart decided to get to his business-at-hand. A full tank of gas led him to the location he desired. Driving through different parts of Dallas brought him to an area where very few residents frequented. Land developers had forsaken this area. On an outstretch of land about thirteen miles outside the city limits, Stuart discovered something that only he understood.
The late afternoon sun didn’t joke around when it came to sending people to the hospital for heat strokes and dehydration. Some even suffered heat-related deaths. Stuart came fully prepared. He wore a wide-brimmed straw hat with a white T-shirt and thin cotton shorts. Inside his car was a large insulated cooler with bottled water and green tea in the can. The sun showed no mercy as it sent down rays of scorching heat. Dallas’ weather services issued a heat warning to residents of the city and surrounding areas.
Stuart guzzled down a cold bottle of water and wiped his face. Scattered throughout the barren flat land were mounds and mounds of soft crumbly soil. Only Stuart knew why he’d come to that particular area of Dallas. Living and thriving inside those dirt mounds were red imported fire ants. The vicious little insects numbered in the hundreds-of-thousands. The shape of the mounds indicated they were definitely red imported fire ants. None of them were visible at the moment.
Stuart reached for the black cord string around his neck and slipped out the magical talisman. Using fierce concentration, with his eyes closed tight, he rubbed the middle of the circle near the precious Hebrew lettering. Paranormally, the blazing sun which controlled the Dallas skies, moved further away into the heavenly bodies. This gave Dallas sudden relief from the merciless heat. The ground vibrated with force. The thousands of red imported fire ants shot up out of their mounds.
The flooding from watering or exposure to too much sunlight usually brought them out on the attack. The powers of the Universe were activated once more. The forces of the cosmos opened the skies and the powers from above split the ground wide open. Stuart witnessed the mounds become sucked under with great vacuum pressure. He got sucked under along with everything living along the barren land. Raging winds blew from unknown directions.
The ground closed back up. The tremor of an earthquake caused tons of dirt to fall beneath the surface. Stuart was no stranger to the secret world created beneath the Earth’s surface. The sanctum under the surface of Dallas appeared slightly different from that of New York City. Yet, another society known only to those with special powers had come alive. This society included red imported fire ants.
They’d been broken down into different classes called castes. Stuart looked around and saw thousands-upon-thousands of ants. Included among them were the wingless female ants. There were the winged female ants. There were the male ants. All of them were faithful in their role to ensure the survival of their colonies.
Central openings underneath the Earth were created for extensive tunneling systems. Stuart sent out cosmic telepathic messages to the largest individual in the colony. The queen fire ant stared back at him with flaming eyes like balls of reddish fire. She was the true head honcho of the colony. Ten inactive sub-queens surrounded the main queen as their way of showing their loyalty. Powers activated by the supreme Universe caused the queen ant to grow from a mere one-sixths of an inch to a colossal six feet tall. Stuart himself couldn’t believe his eyes.
First, he watched the one-time normal rat now known as “General Rahmaanteen” grow from several inches to the size of an NBA player. Now, he watched the queen of an ant colony grow to a larger human size. The Universal powers caused the other ants to grow to smaller human sizes. The queen had to be the dominant one, not only in stature, but also in size.
Stuart and the queen sent more telepathic messages to one another. A sparkling red glow formed around the body of the enormous insect. The glow penetrated the inner layers of her head, thorax, and abdomen. Stuart paid close attention to her pairs of legs and antennaes.
The antennaes sent telepathic waves into the air and straight into the genuis brain of Stuart. A strong vibration shook her copper brown head. The most brilliant ball of light shot into her dark abdomen. The powers of the Universe were now activated within the queen. Supernatural forces were also charged into every other member within the colony. Another strong tremor shook from underneath the Earth.
Stuart approached the queen with delight. “Do you understand who I am?”
“You have been ordained to become my master,” the queen ant spoke, the red cosmic glow more concentrated around her body.
“Do you know who has ordained my powers?”
“The One Most High, The Ruler of the Universe, has ordained your powers, master.”
“That is correct,” Stuart predicated. “From this day forward, I will be your master. You will forever address me as your master. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master.”
“You and your entire colony are to obey my every command. You are to show up when you have been summoned. Am I understood?”
“You are understood, master.”
“Remember, The Ruler of the Universe has all power over you, over myself, over the Earth, and over all of the Universe. It is through The Ruler of the Universe that all powers are activated. When you are given orders, you and the colony are to carry out those very orders. Is that clear?”
“Yes, master, it is clear.”
“Your powers are great. They are not of this world. They are not to be used for abominations. Now, you are part of something supremely divine. Are my words connecting with you?”
“Yes, master.”
“As I have told General Rahmaanteen and his great army, greatness will be in the wake of your very existence. Any life form on this Earth will submit to your powers and obey the will submitted by The One Most High. Do you follow me?”
“I follow you, master.”
“My works are not intended for evil purposes,” Stuart greatly emphasized. “The world in which we live in is already evil enough. I promised Rabbi Wedemeyer that my powers of working through creatures and nature will be used for the betterment of mankind. Yes, there will be some acts of vengeance taken against some perpetrators that will be non-fatal, somewhat non-inflammatory. Again, have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, master.”
“No longer will your colony destroy or devour the important crops which feed millions of people. No longer will your colony kill wildlife animals and leave them dead for the park rangers or conservationist. Such deeds will be left for the other colonies that exist throughout other domains. Colony, do you hear me?”
Loud chants echoed throughout the deep underground sanctum. “We hear you, master!”
All of the ants glowed with the brightest cosmic redness.
Stuart advanced closer to the queen. He rested both hands across the top of her head. “From this day forward, you shall be addressed as ‘Queen Amina’. From the historic books of the Hebrew faith, the name Amina means to be trustworthy and faithful. Queen Amina, you will be my trustworthy and faithful servant.”
“Master, it will be my pleasure, as well as a privilege, to be your faithful servant,” Queen Amina proudly succumbed, bowing her head in absolute servitude.
“Queen Amina, welcome to the sensationalistic family of Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer.”
The antennaes bent side-to-side from the base of Queen Amina’s head. The redness from the jointed antennaes converted to a more exclusive glow. The queen of more than a colony of 200,000 red imported fire ants couldn’t’ve been prouder to serve her new master. Stuart rubbed the magical talisman and shifted into concentration mode. The powers of the Universe were activated. A bolt of cosmic energy shot through the galaxy and down onto Earth. The ground split back open. The skies returned to normal. This allowed Stuart and the colony of now human-sized ants to make their way through the tunneling systems.


CHAPTER—17

TO CREATE SOME HATE

The big difference Stuart noticed between New York City and Dallas were the people. The southeastern hospitality of Texans showed him there were nicer people somewhere else in the United States. How sweet it was for him to have left the Big Apple behind for a few days. The madness of Manhattan, he never missed it for a second. Cooler temperatures in Dallas showed some mercy on an early Saturday evening.
The high for the day reached 92 degrees with the heat index. Stuart decided to travel remotely outside the city limits. There had to be some eventful landscape other than downtown. A tourist map of an abandoned airfield peaked his attention. Traveling to a location where hardly anyone frequented suited him fine. He drove south of downtown Dallas to an old airport known as The Charles Echols Airport.
The former general aviation airport happened to be located on the southern edge of the Dallas city limits. Light winds blew scattered dust onto the old airplanes and buildings next to the hangars. The earliest reference to the old airfield dated back to 1942. Nearly four-thousand feet of decayed runway surrounded the area. Facing northwest at Highway 77, The Charles Echols Airport found its name on a registry for historical landmarks. Silence afforded visitors the opportunity to gather their thoughts.
Stuart parked on the shoulder of the decayed air runway. He climbed out of the rent-a-car and sucked in some of the mild humid Dallas air. From one of the old hangars, a man pleading for his life cried out. A series of menacing giggles faltered from inside the hangar. Stuart listened closely. The only words he heard were, “Help me! Please, please, somebody come and help me!”
Someone’s very life hung in the balances. The giggling sounds of the grown men got louder. Somebody needed help right away. From inside the airport hangar, a group of four rednecks in overalls and dirty jeans held a black man captive. Drinking southern whiskey and chewing tobacco, they drafted a plan to exterminate him. A thick bull rope which’d been taken from a top Texas rodeo was thrown over one of the hangar’s beams. The four racists had abducted him from a non-descript construction site long after usual working hours. He was tied to another beam inside the old hangar.
The first racist in the dirty and shredded overalls was Richard Duncan. He was a devout white supremacist who’d served multiple prison sentences for drug possession, rape, child molestation, and burglary. Richard wore a dirty matted beard, had a nasty scar on his left cheek after being gang-raped in the penitentiary, and did his best to keep a set of dentures up in his badly-stained tobacco mouth. Richard tied part of the bull rope into a noose. He belted down a mouthful of whiskey and spit out some of the smelly black tobacco.
The second racist in the dirty faded jeans and dingy T-shirt was Michael Connelly. Like Richard, he was a devout white supremacist who’d also served prison time for robbery, burglary, and domestic violence. Michael kept a skinny body frame from hardly eating. His long and stringy hair was matted from dirt and oil. Corn whiskey and Camel cigarettes were his favorites. Sometimes, he did a little meth here and there. Michael took an old rusty wrench and struck the helpless black man on the side of his face. A bleeding gash was the result of the severe blow.
The third racist, also in a set of dirty and ripped apart overalls, was Dan Swinney. He was a veteran retard who’d gone back to prison numerous times for parole violations. The inside of Dan’s mouth looked like a checker board game. Every other tooth along his upper and lower rows were missing. He grew his beard down to the middle of his chest to show his stature as a true redneck. Using a solid aluminum bat, he struck their tied-up hostage across the back.
The fourth and final racist, Keith Roth, the youngest of the group, wore a stained T-shirt with an old pair of Levi’s deeply-embedded with dirt. With reddish brown hair and a thick mustache, he sported every racially-hateful tattoo symbol across his body. Occasionally, he also smoked meth and drank himself into bewilderment. Keith exchanged hateful eye contact with their victim while landing a solid steel pole into his chest.
The abducted victim to the four racists was George Pulliam. He was a thirty-three year old black man who’d lived in the greater Dallas area all of his life. George was a married man and the father of four lovely and healthy children. He didn’t bother anyone. He went to work like any man while supporting his family with love. Though he stood over six feet, carrying around a solid muscular frame, the four rednecks had no problem abducting him and bringing him to the abandoned airfield. Foreign objects were used to puff up his eyes. The men of hatred cracked a rib, busted his top lip, and slit the side of his neck.
Each of them did their part to brutalize him.
Stuart crept closer to the hangar. He peeked through one of the small windows to witness a hate crime in progress. The banner of a swastika hung on one of the walls inside. Another banner of a Confederate Flag hung next to it. Hanging next to the swastika and Confederate Flag was the cartoon drawing of white and black male homosexuals being hung by their necks and private parts.
Stuart got the picture quite clear. “So, those four racist men hate Jews, blacks, and gays. Looks like they wanted to beat and hang the first black man they found. We’re in the Twenty-First Century and people still can’t let go of their sickening racist ways.”
Richard Duncan ripped open his sweaty button down plaid shirt from under the overalls. He flashed the large tattoo of a black man hanging from a tree. George’s eyes rolled back and forth with fear. Michael Connelly stepped next to him and rolled up his T-shirt. He displayed a tattoo which said “Aryan Pride”. Dan squeezed between the two and unloosened the straps to his overalls. Proudly, he showed off the giant tattoo of a swastika and a patch for the racist group “Confederate Knights of America”. Keith walked up and hatefully peeled off his T-shirt. Many Nazi and Aryan symbols were sketched across his torso.
The climate of hate inside the old airport hangar escalated to an extreme level.
“Before we hang you, nigger!” Richard snarled with racist overtones. “There’s something that I want you to know. When I was in prison, a buncha niggers kidnapped me and drug me off into another cell block. Those nigger coons took turns gang raping me, one right after another. They left my mouth and my rear bleeding real bad. Now, guess what, nigger? You’re going to pay for what they did to me.”
Richard was handed the rusty old wrench. He struck another severe blow to the opposite side of George’s face. High doses of anger led him to discharge big globs of black spit into his face. Blood and saliva oozed down his battered face.
“Well, look’a here,” said Michael, pointing to the same tattoo etched across the wide chest of Richard. “That’s exactly what we’re going to do you, nigger. You niggers ain’t got no place here in the white man’s country. Hell, you ain’t got no place nowhere in this world. My kinfolks shoulda never let cha get ya freedom in the first place.”
Michael was handed over the wrench. Like Richard, he landed a more powerful blow across the already puffy face of George. A black man in their presence had sickened them to their stomachs.
“Look over there, nigger,” Dan hissed, pointing to all three banners. “Can’t you understand where we’re coming from? We hate all niggers, kykes, and faggots. Give me the tools I need, and I’ll exterminate every nigger, kyke, and faggot from this damn planet. We hate ya now, we’ve always hated you, and we’ll always hate your damn guts.”
Dan snatched the aluminum bat from the ground. Lifting the bat far over his shoulders, he swung forward with the hardest blow. The metal crashed deep into George’s delicate ribcage.
“Check this out, nigger,” Keith said, pressing his fingers into the different sizes of the swastika tattoos across his limbs and torso. “We are the sons of the great one himself, Adolph Hitler. Yes, he wanted you niggers, you kykes, and you faggots wiped off the face of this Earth. Nigger, we are here to finish up his work.”
Richard, Michael, Dan, and Keith stood side-by-side. The four faithful racists lifted their arms in the erect formation of the Hitler Nazi salute.
“Heil Hitler!” shouted Richard, great pride scribbled onto his face.
“Heil Hitler!” yelled Michael, elated to be a sinister racist.
“Heil Hitler!” howled Dan, the breath of pure hatred shooting from his nostrils.
“Heil Hitler!” screamed Keith, every bone in his body plastered with racism.
Stuart had seen just about enough. The four racist dirtbags mocked his Jewish heritage.
How dare the redneck lowlifes shout out, “Heil Hitler!”
Adolph Hitler was the same man responsible for the brutal murder of six million innocent Jewish people.
The fierce foursome were ready to proceed. Dan and Keith untied George from around the beam. Richard checked to make sure the rope’s noose would be effective. While they prepared for the execution of an innocent black man, Stuart had some plans of his own. The magical talisman arose from under his khaki shirt. He closed his eyes and concentrated harder than ever. He rubbed the middle near the magical Hebrew lettering. Seconds later, an Earth-shattering rumble took place only inside the hangar. The ground outside remained calm.
Stuart sent telepathic messages out to Queen Amina and the rest of her colony. George was in desperate need of their help. Flying across the sky and towards the old hangar were the queen and her entire colony. Her wings flapped hard enough to create atmospheric vibrations. The glowing antennaes zeroed in on the subjects inside. Bursting through the single doors of the airport hangar were Queen Amina and her helpers. The four racists couldn’t believe their eyes.
“Have I loss the better half of my freaking mind?” Richard weased, fear tying a knot in his chest. “Ants don’t get that damn big.”
“Where’d all those giant red critters come from?” asked Michael, ducking and running all around the hangar.
“That one ant is bigger than one of the Dallas Cowboys,” Dan commented, pointing up in the sky at Queen Amina.
“What’s that red crap glowing all around that one big ant?” Keith inquired, picking up the bat and swinging it every which direction. “That red junk looks like a bloody red pork chop or something.”
Queen Amina and her colony took over the hangar. Their cosmic powers would give them a field day with the vicious, murderous rednecks. Her antennaes were packed with supernatural powers. She released a liquid red substance as part of her artillery. A toxic alkaloid venom from her antennaes was sprayed down on the furious foursome. The venom burned through their clothing and caused a painful sting along their arms and chests. The sensation they experienced felt like torches of fire running along their skin. They paraded recklessly around the hangar fanning their burning red skin.
Queen Amina flew low above Richard. She zoomed down on him at a remarkable speed. She used two segmented clubs near her head to clamp onto Richard’s dentures and then snatched them right out of his tobacco-crusted mouth. The dentures went flying on the floor and onto the side of the hangar wall. Having unlimited powers, she also used her antennaes to sting him along his toothless gums. This caused swelling and bleeding to erupt around his mouth. The fun hadn’t even begun.
Michael tried to run out of the hangar. Colony members barricaded the front entrance. Swinging the old rusty wrench while they flew around his head only agitated them into further action. Four colony members closed in on him. They stung him all along his arms and chest. Their attack on Michael caused an immediate, excruciating pain. Like Richard, they left their signature behind by sinking their stingers into him. Painful red blisters bubbled out of their skin.
Two more rednecks had to be taught a lesson. Smaller and larger colony members obeyed the command of their superior, Queen Amina. Their skills were now concentrated on Dan. Smaller members used the dominance of their antennaes to snatch the remaning rotted teeth out of Dan’s mouth. Chunks of old smelly tobacco came flying from the surface of his gums. Having access to the aluminum bat, he snatched it off the ground and swung it through the air. Now, why would he do such a crazy thing?
Larger colony members inflicted greater punishments on him. One sting after another to his body caused blisters the size of golf balls. Quarts of purplish blood filled each blister. How dare Dan swing a bat at them. He screamed from the depths of his hollow lungs. His cries of mercy weren’t heard. Keith grabbed the solid steel pole from one of the corners. When the band of colony members swooped in on him, he swung the pole wildly in their direction. His attempts to hurt them were useless. Enough stings were inflicted upon him to make his racist tattoos look like scribbled Chinese arithmetic.
All four loyal racists were in severe pain. Their would-be hate crime victim, George Pulliam, watched everything happen through eyes of absolute amazement. All attempts to save his life inside the hangar were successful.
Stuart also witnessed some pretty amazing stunts from his faithful ant servants.
How astonishing it was for the Universe to work on the underdog’s behalf.
Queen Amina used both of her strong antennaes to put a chokehold around Richard’s neck. She penetrated the depths of his soul with a set of glowing red eyes. “You rotten scumbag, you. We’re in the Twenty-First century. You’re living in a time warp if you think that you can commit hate crimes against people and get away with it. In this old airport hangar, you have the Confederate Flag and the swastika to show your so-called dominance over blacks and Jews.”
“This is all one bad dream,” Richard imagined, the painful stings rather discomforting. “Ants don’t talk, and they damn sure don’t get as big as you. Maybe I done been drinking too much corn whiskey.”
“Aren’t you repentant for what you were going to do to this man?”
“Repentant for what? Niggers aren’t even human.”
Queen Amina used one of her antennaes to execute a shock through Richard’s chest. “Black people are human too. We’re all humans made in the image of God.”
“You’re not just another ant. You’re some kinda critter from somewhere in outer space.”
“And my Jewish brothers and sisters?”
“What about those kykes?”
“How dare you throw up the big banner of a swastika in this old airport hangar. How is it that you have racist symbols tattooed all over your body?”
“My buddies and I hate niggers and Jews and faggots,” Richard proudly proclaimed, growing weaker from the potent venom of the stings.
“Jews are God’s chosen people. Jews are the apple of God’s eyes. When God told Abraham that he would bless those who blessed him, and that he would curse those who cursed him, he meant every word of it. Since you have shown your hatred, especially towards Jewish people, from this day forward, you will be cursed. All of your seed for generations to come will be cursed. Your hateful ways have brought the wrath of God down on you and your racist buddies.”
“My mind’s still playing tricks on me. Ants don’t talk. They just don’t do it. Once I wake up from this bad dream, then I’ll know it was just that, one bad dream.”
“You’re awake, Richard. This is really happening to you.”
“Ants don’t have a buncha red glowing crap around them.”
Queen Amina and the many colony members had performed their duties. She and the colony disappeared within seconds. From the window on the side of the hangar, Stuart carried the biggest smile on his face. Intercepting someone from being a hate crime victim brought him the greatest sense of satisfaction.


CHAPTER—18

RECIPE FOR RETALIATION

Nearly six years after her graduation from NYU, the former Megan Piccirillo decided to return to school and receive her doctorate in nursing. Offers to teach at major universities were constantly offered. Her love of working in the field kept her at one of the major hospitals in Dallas. The Boston native found the man of her dreams and married him after a year long courtship.
Megan Piccirillo tied the knot and became Mrs. Megan Piccirillo-Pisano. Thomas Pisano, a wealthy, handsome, and educated stock broker originally from Philadelphia, asked her to marry him while they vacationed over in Paris. She gladly accepted. Megan rewarded Thomas with a two year old son, Thomas Pisano, Jr., and a one year old daughter, Melissa Pisano, after four years of marriage. Their two blessings brought much joy into their lives.
After applying at several hospitals throughout the greater Metropolitan-Dallas area, Megan landed a job at The Methodist Dallas Medical Center in the northern section of the city. She couldn’t’ve been prouder to work with other sophisticated and compassionate medical care staff. The level two trauma center at Methodist Dallas became her inner sactum. She went around the 520 private room facility carrying patient charts. No one dare ignored the presence of her gorgeous face. Down every hallway on every floor, hospital employees addressed her by either saying, “Good morning, Dr. Pisano”, or “Good afternoon, Dr. Pisano.”
“Calling Dr. Pisano to emergency surgery,” announced the coarse voice of hospital staff. “Calling Dr. Pisano to emergency surgery.”
Megan knew that another patient had arrived at the medical center’s emergency room. She rushed towards the emergency room. EMTs and paramedics who’d arrived at Methodist Dallas brought in a female patient bleeding profusely from a bad car accident. The ambulance outside the building screeched to a halt. Four paramedics kneeled at the edge of the ambulance and lifted her out. Possibly, only minutes away from death, Megan and other hospital staff knew their patient required immediate medical attention. The gurney hurtled through the bright hallway.
Resuscitation of the patient was key. She’d lost a great amount of oxygen. The loss of blood spurred Megan and other staff to insert IVs into her arm. Compacted fractures caused the patient’s ribs to puncture her vital organs. Blunt trauma from the force of the crash caused open wound lacerations. The heart rhythm of the cardiac monitor displayed a reading which brought her closer to death. From opposite sides of the operating table, Megan and one of the specialized physicians reached onto the suture tray for the sterile equipment.
“Forceps,” requested one of the physicians.
“Forceps, doctor,” Megan repeated, hoping they wouldn’t lose the patient.
“Scissors.”
“Scissors, doctor.”
“Towel.”
“Towel, doctor.”
The lead physician used the forceps to hold together the lacerated tissue. Megan draped away the non-sterile areas which were being repaired. A lethal cardiac rhythm read from the monitor. The emergency room team frantically tried to revive the patient. Had they lost her? Not if Stuart Duffelmeyer had his choice. He stood right beside the doors to the emergency room with big bulbs of tears gushing from his eyes. His aggressive rubbing of the magical talisman and deep concentration sent cosmic magic into the emergency room.
The team of three physicians and two nurses experienced a gravitational force which lifted them off the ground and towards the well-lit ceiling. One might’ve thought they were in a spacecraft. A glowing yellow force field surrounded the entire emergency room. Divinely, the deep wounds of the patient closed up. A normal cardiac rhythm returned to the monitor. The one-time crushed ribs jointed together. The lacerated organs were healed within an instant.
The patient sat up and allowed her legs to dangle at the edge of the operating table. “Why am I here in this emergency room hospital?”
The doctors and the nurses gradually descended back to the floor’s surface. Neither of them could believe what just happened.
“Mam, you were in a very bad automobile accident,” Megan reminded the patient.
“I do remember running head-on to a big semi truck somewhere on the highway.”
“Actually, you’re lucky to be alive.”
Actually, she was more luckier to have the forces of the Universe on her side.
The patient grinned at Megan and said, “Nurse, you guys must’ve performed a miracle or something. I could’ve sworn that I died at the scene of the accident.”
Megan and the other staff looked at one another in amazement. The mystery surrounding them being lifted into mid-air while their dying patient was saved, came by way of miracles from The One Most High. They knew some things in life couldn’t be explained.
Hours at Methodist Dallas Medical Center were long and frustrating. Megan loved her job enough to deal with the long hours and frustrating situations. She lived by the words of her loving parents: Do what you love and love what you do. Being a doctor of nursing was a dream come true. Not seeing enough of her husband and two children had turned nightmarish.
Megan and one of her colleagues decided to take a break from the rewardful woes of the hospital. The pair sat near one of the large picture windows sipping on soft drinks and biting into delicious deli sandwiches. The view of an artful Dallas landscape was breathtaking. The sun beamed from the clear skies and down into the spacious cafeteria-style break room. Megan allowed the rays of the sun to bathe her smooth olive complexion.
She picked up a copy of the “Dallas Daily News” sitting on one of the adjoining tables. Her eyes widened from the surprise of a front page article. “Goodness, now what is this world really coming to?”
“Reading anything of interest?” asked her esteemed medical colleague.
“No, this can’t be real,” Megan objected. “Says that a group of four racists were attacked and beaten by a bunch of human-sized ants inside an old airport hangar.”
“You’re kidding, Meg.”
“Article goes on to say that these four racists claimed that these ants spoke perfect English. Says the ants confronted them about being racist.”
“What kinda drugs were they taking?”
“My point, exactly.”
“Ants don’t talk. Neither do they grow to be the size of human beings.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Wanna know what’s weird? I read an article in the New York Times about a group of men in New York who claimed that a buncha man-sized rats, ones that also spoke good English, beat them up real bad inside a Manhattan condominium. Now, we’ve got racists down here in Dallas claiming they were beat up by a buncha giant talking ants. Ya know, I hate ants to death. Those crawly little things give me the creeps.”
“They don’t bother me at all. In fact, when my brother and I were kids, we used to catch them and put them inside old jars.”
“Yikes!” Megan quailed, scooting back from the table. “Let’s not talk about ants anymore.”
“Scared, Meg?”
“Let’s hope they won’t plague the Earth.”
“Like in The Bible?”
“Yes, like when the frogs and lice and flies hit Egypt.”
“Those men here in Dallas are probably into that hocus pocus, hoodoo voodoo crap.”
“Hallucination can make people do some crazy things.”
Megan’s colleague grabbed her at the middle of her arm. “Oh, by the way, congratulations.”
“For what?”
“For you and the team saving the car crash victim in ER earlier today.”
Megan slipped into a sudden state of daze.
Being lifted up and suspended in mid-air, while a supernatural force healed their dying patient, still amazed her and the others to no end. Would other hospital employees believe her story if she ever broke her silence?
“Meg, are you alright?” asked her colleague, taking the last bite and drink from her sandwich and soda.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay,” she said, shaking off the last second of her daze. “Thanks for the compliment about our performance in ER today.”
“You’re welcome.”
Megan’s co-worker looked down at her watch and couldn’t believe what the time read. “My, my, time has a way of just creeping up on us. I’ve got to check patient vitals and do a few checkouts.”
“See you later.”
Megan remained the only hospital employee inside the break room. She couldn’t get the phenomenal event inside the ER out of her mind. With no warning, whatsoever, the door to the break room slammed hard enough to shake the adjacent walls. Chairs from surrounding tables tumbled sideways and backwards. The vending machines shook until the sodas and snacks fell to the bottom. A strong wind blew through the cracks of the windows. An unexplainable burst of dim light spilled into the break room.
Megan jumped right out of her seat.
Slowly, she backed away towards the closest wall.
“What in the world’s going on in here!” she chattered, frightened into the coldest chills.
Tiny ants, literally thousands of them, crawled from behind the vending machines.
Through the cracks of the windows and the main break door, they showed up in record numbers. Up from the white tile in the floor, they made their presence known. Supernaturally, Megan watched as one particular red imported fire ant grew from a tiny insect into a large human-sized ant. Other colony members grew to great sizes. Their instataneous growth stunned Megan. From the midst of the now colossal-sized ants, came the supreme glowing presence of Queen Amina. The Queen fired a burst of light from her antennaes. The whole room lit up with a powerful red glow.
Megan ran over to one of the corners. She stooped down like a child in trouble with their parents. “Who are you and what do you want?”
“I have been sent by my master,” Queen Amina notified Megan.
“Your Master? Who’s your master?” Megan questioned the Queen, shivering over in the corner.
“The secrets of the Universe will not permit me to reveal who my master is. He is the master who has sent me to plague you.”
“Plague me for what?”
“You, at one given point in your life, broke one of life’s most sacred laws.”
“What law?”
“Do unto others as you would have them to do unto you.”
“But, I haven’t done anything to hurt nobody.”
“Oh, but you have, Megan.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“My master has proven you otherwise. Karma has come back for you.”
“This is all one bad dream. Ants don’t glow and they don’t talk.”
“You’re wide awake, Megan.”
“Those rednecks weren’t crazy afterall.”
Megan picked up one of the chairs and threw it at Queen Amina. Her attempt to hurt the queen was foolish. The chair went through her like thin air. She tried running for the door. Other colony members intercepted her. The giant ants covered every inch of space inside the break room. Megan turned over several tables in attempts to barricade herself. She threw more chairs at the Queen and colony members.
“Megan, you must learn to treat your brothers and sisters kindly,” Queen Amina reminded her once again.
The Queen sent telepathic messages to her workers while she pointed over to Megan. They responded rapidly and aggressively by lifting her up by both arms. Queen Amina flapped her powerful wings and flew across the room. Firmly, she grasped both sides of Megan’s tender backside with her gripping jaws. She then injected a potent venom from her stinger. Dark red blisters the size of bubble gum surfaced across her rear. She screamed at the highest octave. No one inside the hospital heard her cries. Four other colony members inflicted their own stings over her body. White pustules formed at the site of all the stings.
Megan screamed the loudest she’d ever done. “Jesus, My Lord, I’ve been stung in my butt!”
Severe pain brought on much regret after being in the break room all by herself.
Queen Amina grabbed Megan by both arms and lifted her high in the air. “You’ve done my master wrong, now you get to see what it feels like to be done wrong. Before everything’s said and done, you will come crawling on your hands and knees to apologize to my master.”
“Please, tell me, who’s your master?” Megan inquired, straining from the severe pain she’d experienced.
“In due time, you will know who my master is.”
Queen Amina flapped her wings and went straight through the window. The colony followed right behind her. The break room lit back up to its normal range. It appeared that none of the vending machines ever shook. The walls and floors looked pristine. How was Megan Piccirillo-Pisano going to explain how she’d been attacked by giant-sized ants inside a Dallas hospital far away from any colony of red imported fire ants?


CHAPTER—19

RETURN OF THE RABBI

Miami catered to the needs of an action-oriented young man like Stuart Duffelmeyer. Dallas provided acceptable weather, but the glowing sunshine in Miami made him feel like a recharged battery. Several days in Dallas were great. More creatures were added to his collection of close friends while taking care of business in the Lone Star state. Stuart looked out the window of his five-star hotel and admired the sparkling waters of the Gulf Coast.
He opened the sliding glass doors. He allowed the mild climate breeze coming off the ocean to infuse his face. Divers and water sports enthusiasts made the Florida waters their playground. Women, more than enough for Stuart to handle, strutted up and down the beach wearing almost less than full bikinis. Their toned bodies were a delightful treat for any eyes to see. Competition from the muscle-bound men wasn’t in short supply.
Stuart switched on the television and settled onto the bed. Cautionary, he noticed how the remote lifted itself into mid-air. The television went blank. The glass doors shut on their own. The curtains jerked closed. The room converted to an awesome silence. What was going on? Stuart hadn’t summoned the powers of the magical talisman.
A recognized voice spoke in a low tone. “Stuart, my dear son. Stuart, my beloved son.”
“Who’s there?” Stuart asked, sliding across the bed.
“Have you not forgotten me, my son?”
The glowing spirit form of Rabbi Irwin Wedemeyer appeared before Stuart. Rabbi Wedemeyer revealed himself to Stuart wearing a white robe with a matching white veil. A ball of white light surrounded the head of the long deceased Rabbi.
“Rabbi Wedemeyer?” Stuart murmured, stunned to see the ghostly spirit of the rabbi he so greatly adored. “Rabbi Wedemeyer, is that you?”
“Yes, my son, it is I,” he revealed himself, glowing with bursting brilliance.
“Have you come to me from the celestial world, Rabbi Wedemeyer?”
“Stuart, I have been allowed to leave the celestial world to return momentarily to Earth.”
“For what?”
“To interject and be a guide to you.”
“A guide?”
“The powers within the other world have sent me to you.”
“I’m happy to know that, Rabbi.”
“I can see that you have been using these powers for the good of mankind.”
“Of course.”
“Have you also not used your powers to inflict pain and punishment on your enemies?”
Stuart clenched his teeth and turned beet red in the face. “Because they violated me!”
“Evil for evil is not the way, my son.”
“But, Rabbi Wedemeyer, I will always believe in an eye-for-an-eye, and a tooth-for-a-tooth. These people must be paid back for the evil they perpetrated on me in that motel room.”
“Once you’ve sought out your revenge, will you feel better?”
“Much better, Rabbi. These powers I’ve been granted aren’t necessarily for evil use. In the end, I will spare their lives, as I have been instructed by you and The One Most High.”
“When I walked the Earth in human flesh form, you were like a son to me. Now that I exist in the spiritual world, you will continue to be like my son. Stuart, I will watch over you to make sure you are protected and make the right decisions.”
Stuart bowed before the glowing spirit of Rabbi Wedemeyer. “Rabbi, you were like my Earthly father, and now you are like my spiritual father. Your work continues on into the other world.”
The spirit form of the rabbi dissolved before the attentive eyes of Stuart. A visit from the man he cherished gave him a different perspective on his life’s purposes. His work to even the score with the egomaniacal eight was far from over.


CHAPTER—20

HANGING WITH THE HIVE

One couldn’t argue how Miami was an intoxicatingly beautiful city. The palm trees swayed in the breeze as Stuart drove past South Beach’s famous Art Deco buildings. The warm sunlight projected alluring rays down onto his tanning face. To dress for the weather, Stuart sported a blue and white shirt printed with palm trees and flamingos, a white Panama straw hat, a pair of white khaki shorts, and the darkest pair Ray Ban shades.
The gleaming skyscrapers of downtown Miami gave him more appreciation for classic architecture. He occasionally made comparisons with the buildings back in New York City. Not a single cloud moved through the clear Miami skies. Women of all shapes and sizes and colors strolled through the streets wearing the skimpiest shorts and bikinis. Stuart couldn’t imagine a woman walking through the crowded streets of Manhattan wearing a bikini.
Money often worked wonders for the plainest of guys. With the ability to afford it, he rented a BMW 328i convertible with a 300 horsepower engine from one of Miami’s prestigious dealers. Women sure paid attention to him as he drove along the palm tree lined streets. The car spoke for itself. Trying to catch women was the furthest from his mind. Competition amongst the yuppie Spring breakers from colleges all over the U.S. grew fierce over the years.
Stuart had nothing in common with a bunch of misguided college kids. He drove through several areas of Miami until U. S. Route 19 took him to a place of beautiful residential lots. Citrus Springs provided wooded lots on quarter acre tracts. The street he arrived at was Morrel Drive. Traveling many miles outside Miami led him to a gem of west central Florida’s Nature Coast.
He drove to the side of a long winding road and parked. The trees and healthy vegetation filled the wooded lots with impeccable beauty. Rays of sunshine decorated the ground of the lots with sensational designs of nature. Stuart trampled his way through the constricted woods until he came upon a bee hive measuring about two feet by three feet. The hive hung from the wide branch of a tree that was close to twenty feet off the ground. Worker bees went to and from the hive to gather their resources.
Stuart pulled the magical talisman from under his shirt. He looked up and saw thousands of killer bees swarming from every direction. Three of his middle fingers glided across the center near the mighty Hebrew letters. The Florida skies opened up wide. The sun expanded into an even bigger fiery ball of light. Winds close to ninety miles per hour blew strong enough to bend the trunks of the tall trees. The powers of the Universe were once again released over to Stuart. More killer bees were busy inside the densely-packed hexagonal cells of the honeycombs. Certain bees surrounded the queen of the hive while she laid many eggs.
The already giant hive had enlarged to the size of a five-bedroom house. Powers of the cosmos lifted Stuart off the ground and into the now colossal hive. Not a single one of the bees touched Stuart. Energetic atoms and molecules from the Universe charged the inside of the hive. A shield of golden light surrounded the queen and her helpers. The head, the thorax, and the abdomen of the queen pumped with force as supernatural powers entered her body. The five-thousand ommatidias in both eyes received telepathic powers.
Stuart already possessed masterful telepathic powers. Her antennaes obtained the powers to analyze highly volatile surroundings beyond normal odor and taste. The powers to perceive vibrations and movements of sounds, air, temperature, and light became intensified. Like their queen, the thousands of other bees were equipped with extraordinary abilities to register the wavelength, intensity, and duration of Earthly elements.
Stuart and the queen stood motionless as they studied one another. The golden glow magnified when she flapped her wings. A lesser glow radiated from the claws and femur and tibia when she moved her legs. A more subtle glow diffused from the endless army of other killer bees. Stuart sent telepathic messages through the vibrating antennaes of the queen. She sent messages back into his brain. The lines of communication had suddenly opened. Astoundingly, the leader of the other killer bees grew to the size of a giant man. She bowed before the feet of Stuart.
“Are you aware of who I am?” Stuart asked the queen killer bee, the golden glow penetrating his eyes.
“The powers of the Universe have sent you to be my master,” the queen answered back, waving her antennaes in submission.
“And you are aware who has ordained my powers?”
“Yes, master.”
Stuart moved closer and placed both hands at the center of the queen’s head. “You have been called to be my servant. At the injunction of the Universe, you have been given special powers to obey me. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master, I understand.”
“All the other workers in the hive will also obey me. Is it understood?”
The massive legion of other bees quickly bowed down in servitude. They shook their heads to show their absolute loyalty to Stuart.
“Queen, you will come upon my direct command. Is it understood?”
“It is understood, master.”
“Hive workers, you will also show up at my direct command. Do you understand me, workers?”
They bowed and shook their heads.
“You are to obey the queen. Once I give you the command, the queen will hand down the command to you. Workers, is it understood?”
Again, the multitude of killer bees submitted to their master. Strong waves flowed through their ventral nerve cords.
Stuart closed his eyes and concentrated hard. “From this day on, you have been ordained as Queen Devorah.”
The hive shook and mounds of honey dripped from the upper and side surfaces.
“Devorah comes from the Hebrew word meaning ‘bee’. Do you understand?”
“I understand, master.”
“Devorah, you will be the one queen bee who works for the betterment of mankind. Have you interpreted what your master has just told you?”
“I have interpreted it, master.”
“When I feel that it is necessary, certain individuals will be plagued by Queen Devorah and your hive workers. These plagues will prove to the wicked and evil people of this world that they can’t violate others and expect to get away with it. For those humans on this Earth who hurt other people, they will not prosper in the end. Queen Devorah and you workers, do you understand where I’m coming from?”
Queen Devorah and her followers complied with gestures of head shaking and antennae waving.
“All of you workers will address her as Queen Devorah. A mother queen will replace you here in the hive.
Queen Devorah lifted her claw and embraced the hand of Stuart. “Master, it will be my pleasure to serve you. Your orders will be my every command. The orders you hand down to me, they will be handed directly down to members of my hive.”
“Now, it is so commanded that I have been ordained as your master.”
Stuart clamped the magical talisman between both palms and rubbed his hands together. The hive rocked strong enough to make the hexagonal-shaped honeycombs spill over with more honey. The sparkling clear skies opened up once again. Strong winds sent tremors through the tree which surprisingly held up the titanic hive. A Universal force lifted Stuart out of the hive and back to the ground. Yet another faithful creature was added to his assembly of helpers.


CHAPTER—21

MEAN, LEAN, STINGING MACHINES

News Station WNSV in Miami struck real gold when they decided to hire Dana Potts as their lead anchorwoman. Dana no longer carried the last name of Potts. Her present husband, Dr. Michael Briscoe, a respected sociologist employed by the University of Miami, dropped down on both knees when they vacationed in Aruba to ask Dana for her hand in marriage. She broke out in tears and accepted his proposal.
Almost six years later, she loved telling friends and colleagues how she was Mrs. Dana Potts-Briscoe. She couldn’t drop the last name of Potts since it’d been in the family for generations. Dana and Michael became the proud parents of two sons, Michael, Jr. and Terry. The boys brought much joy to their home since they’d dreamed of starting a family after getting their educations and fooling around out of the way.
Dana hung her graduate degree from NYU’s prestigious Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute on the wall next to Michael’s Doctorate of Sociology from Notre Dame. The highly-motivated duo knew their educations paved the way to their prominent careers. WNSV reviewed many other applicants before hiring Dana. The station manager took one look at her beautiful Nubian face and knew he’d found a gem. Viewers switched on their televisions and fell in love with Dana’s captivating features.
Cameramen threw on their headphones and positioned the cameras in the direction of Dana and her co-anchor, the handsome and high-spirited, Tino Fernandez. They looked into their monitors and counted down the short seconds before Dana and Tino went on the air to report the latest news. Both personalities were the best at telling a story or informing and entertaining their audiences. All three television cameras were in full operation. WNSV Channel Nine bounced it’s news logo across the small screen monitor.
Tino smiled into the camera with a set of gleaming white teeth. “Good evening, and thanks for watching. This is Channel Nine news, I’m Tino Fernandez.”
Dana followed up with an even brighter toothpaste smile ad. “And I’m Dana Potts-Briscoe. Thanks for watching the latest edition of Channel Nine News.”
Right outside the news studio, Stuart parked his thin frame near a set of wooden doors with long glass windows in the center. He watched as one of the egomaniacal eight from his horror days at NYU reported the Miami news. A swift flashback paid him a visit. The thought of Dana putting the maggots in the bed with the mechanical sex doll, and then dumping the rest from the bag on top of his head, sent jolts of fury through him. Envisioning some of the maggots crawling out of his nose and mouth infuriated him to no end. She would be paid back dearly for taking part in the prank that never stopped haunting him.
Dana went straight to reporting the top local news. “The city of Miami is preparing to begin enforcing red light cameras. According to the Miami Police Department, the police will issue notices of violation to red light runners at designated intersections. Drivers will be fined $150.00 for running a red light, including those making a rolling right turn on the red. Cameras will operate twenty-four hours a day and capture images of every vehicle running a red light at the intersections. Officials said they plan to add red light cameras at sixty locations around the greater Miami area. Channel Nine’s Neena McGavin has more on that story.”
The cameras switched outside to the gorgeous Neena McGavin. A cameraman followed her to an intersection in a busy part of downtown Miami.
Neena placed her pretty face at the center of the camera. “Dana, if one was to do research, they’d find that this method of enforcement did not generate the revenue for Miami that was expected. It actually cost the city of Miami more since they were now being sued by the people taking the red lights for various reasons.”
Dana gazed deep into the camera’s monitor. It showed Neena reporting from downtown Miami. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Neena had been transformed into a large killer bee in a dress. She looked over at Tino and saw an even larger man-sized bee wearing a business suit. Looking out on the studio floor, she noticed the three cameramen who’d also transformed into human-sized bees. Dana hated bees with contempt. She jumped out of her seat during the most important segment of the news.
“Errrrrrrrrrh!” Dana shuddered, tip toeing away from the anchor desk.
The camera crews were instructed to stop the cameras while the station went to break.
“Dana, are you alright?” asked Tino, consoling his colleague.
Tino had transformed back into the human being he actually was.
“I think so,” she snoozed, taking deep breaths while staring Tino up and down.
“Are you sick or something?”
“No, I’m feeling fine.”
“Why did you jump out of your anchor seat?”
She sized Tino up like she was fitting him for a suit. “Tino, I don’t why that happened. You and Neena and the camera guys, you turned into-----into.”
“Into what?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“The news director or the general manager has to find you a replacement.”
“No, Tino, I should be fine.”
“We can call an ambulance or a physician here to the station.”
“Don’t do that. I told you, I’ll be okay.”
Dana felt that she’d surely hear from both the news director and the general manager. What they had to tell her, she probably didn’t want to hear it. A replacement was found for Dana and she was free to walk around the building which housed the entire WNSV news station. Shaking off the illusion of news team members taking on the form of giant bees took some stepping back from the anchor desk.
Dana strolled through the large complex of equipment and facilities to clear her mind. She traveled around the studio floor space where the walls and ceilings were covered with sound-absorbing materials used to create the necessary acoustic environment. She came to the program director’s control room and everyone in there was busy operating consoles with the sound engineer. Workers in the control room made sure the amplifying and coverting of the television signals were being fed from the studio cameras. They mounted the cameras on dollies and made sure the equipment were connected by multiconductor cables.
The forced-ventilation and air-conditioned systems removed the heat generated by the lighting system. Dana had to get her mind together. Humans didn’t turn into bees. Those were celluloid images Hollywood created. Experts in the sports and entertainment department rushed to prepare for their slot on the news. Those who did the traffic shuffled through their reports before letting the people of Miami know how their drive home from work would be.
Dana walked further through the station until she stopped at the weather center. Though she’d been a happily married woman for almost six years, she found Dominican-born, chief meteorologist Augustine Gomez the most gorgeous man she’d ever met. She stared from out in the hallway at the man she secretly admired. Augustine was blessed with movie star good looks and old world charm. He looked up from doing his demanding work. It appeared to him Dana might’ve been confused.
“Dana, are you alright, my beautiful African goddess?” Augustine teased, his hormones sort of doing their own little dance.
“The strangest thing happened, Augustine,” Dana impartially admitted, confusion etched on her lovely face.
“You wanna tell me about it real quick?”
“While I was reporting the news, some of the people here at WNSV turned into something different.”
“Different? How?”
“Different like those Africanized killer bees.”
“Does that include my guy Tino, too?”
“Yes, it includes Tino.”
“Honey, are you sure that your imagination hasn’t run wild on you?”
“I hope not, Augustine.”
“Stress from the job and at home sometimes causes us to see things strangely.”
“Has that ever happened to you? Have you ever pictured a person to be an animal or an insect or some type of object?”
“Once, I pictured a girl in college to be a hot fluffy biscuit with honey and butter dripping down the sides,” Augustine joked, trying hard to keep his eyes off Dana’s delectable rear end.
“She was more like your object of desire. Seriously, has that ever happened to you?”
“No, it hasn’t.”
“You guys pretty busy here in the weather center?”
Augustine huffed and rolled up his left sleeve. “Me and the team here in the weather center are keeping track of Hurricane Danielle.”
“Overheard one of your team members say that it was a Cagetory Four hurricane.”
“Packing winds at 125 miles an hour. It’s moving up towards North Carolina’s coast.”
“Oh, that’s scary.”
Augustine stared down at his watch. Since he spearheaded a four person staff that kept an eye on South Florida’s skies, he ran upon the busiest time schedule ever. “Well, Dana, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll see ya later here around the studio.”
“Take care, Augustine.”
Dana wandered around the studio until she decided to find some solace in one of the break rooms. A warm cup of coffee and candy bar sort of calmed her nerves. She giggled to herself from the simple thought of seeing her colleagues turning into the giant killer bees. The door to the break room slammed hard. The impact rattled her sensitive ear drums. The walls and ceiling and floor rumbled with great force. Mild hurricane-like winds blew into the break room from out of nowhere. Dana jumped out of her seat and raced for the door. She jerked on the knob, but the door wouldn’t budge. A lustrous golden glow lit up the entire break room. The glow drowned out the already bright lights surrounding the room. A vibratory motion shook every inch of space. The vending machines were toppled while the tables and chairs tumbled across the floor. Dana was frightened out of her mind.
Dwarf-sized bees came through the cracks of the windows and floor and ceiling. From under the door, more bees crawled through. Within minutes, layers of thousands of killer bees covered every inch of wall and floor space. Before her jaded eyes, there would be the one bee which grew to over six feet in a matter of seconds. Queen Devorah flapped her wings to express her superiority.
The intense golden glow around her body appeared as a burning furnace. A more fiery glow from her antennaes possessed unlimited cosmic powers. Other members of the hive grew close to the size of their leader. Dana found herself surrounded by many large bees that radiated with an astounding flare. Queen Devorah flapped her wings and flew to the middle of the break room. She worked her mouth until a dragon-like fire shot out. Both of her eyes converted from a mild yellow to a flaming red. The power of her legs lifted Dana high in the air.
“Dana, do you know who I am?” asked Queen Devorah, her voice like the roaring of an angry lion.
Dana shook with extreme fright. “No, but I can see that you’re a very big bee who has scared the living daylights out of me.”
“I have been sent by my master to confront you.”
“Who’s your master?”
“You know him very well. Never will I tell you exactly who he is. My master has sent me to be a plague upon your life.”
“Plague me for what?”
“You took part in a very evil deed. You must now see what it feels like to be violated.”
“But, I haven’t done anything.”
“Yes, you have.”
Queen Devorah shook Dana rather hard. The fire from her mouth blew all around Dana’s pretty face. Not one layer of her flawless skin was burned. The fright of being held up by a colossal killer bee who breathed fire was just too much.
“My master has ordered me and my workers to teach you a good lesson.”
“A lesson for what?”
“For your evil transgressions.”
“I’ve never done an evil deed in my life.”
“Oh, yes you have.”
Queen Devorah dropped Dana to the floor. She flapped her wings and flew up towards the ceiling. The huge stinger in the back of her body shook until roaring blazes shot out. More hot blazes shot out of her mouth and antennaes. Not a single spark set the break room on fire. She flew down and used her strong claws to flip Dana over on her stomach.
Four other bees restrained her across the floor. Queen Devorah rattled her sharp stinger and then stung Dana several times in her backside. The pointed stinger penetrated her rear like a needle being shot into a tough vein. Luckily for her, she had enough backside to absorb the blow.
Dana jumped up off the floor, only to run around squeezing her burning butt. Smoke wavered from around her waistline. More workers from the hive stung her along her legs and arms. Not wanting to kill her, they’d been instructed to inflict limited stings. By now, she looked like a young woman who’d been assaulted, her clothes and hair way out of place.
Queen Devorah lifted Dana back up in the air. She stared deep into her eyes with her own set of shifting yellow-to-red eyes. “You are indebted to my master.”
“Indebted for what?” Dana cried out. “But I haven’t done nothing to nobody.”
“Oh, Dana, how forgetful we can become.”
“Please, please, tell me, who is your master?”
“Remember this one thing, Dana. You will come crawling on your hands and knees to ask for the forgiveness of my master. You will offer both a public and private apology to my master.”
“Have you really been sent to plague me?”
“My master has ordered me and my hive workers to plague you until you recognize the evil deed that you perpetrated.”
Queen Devorah flapped her wings and the powers of the Universe were consecrated within her. As she faded away, so did the golden glow that dominated the break room. Dana looked around and there was nothing but toppled chairs and tables and vending machines. She saw her reflection through the glass of a vending machine. What a mess she was. Who would believe that she’d been attacked and humiliated by a hive of man-sized killer bees who spoke very good English? Time would either be her best friend or her worst enemy.


CHAPTER—22

LIGHT UP THE NIGHT

Thinking of crime in Miami brought some to the conclusion how movies like “Scarface” and television shows like “Miami Vice” and “CSI: Miami” were true-to-life. Stuart knew to be alert and aware. Unlike New York City, he’d been warned that Miami wasn’t some sleepy beach town. Natives enlightened him at the airport to be safe. Some told him to have big fun and bienvenidos around the city.
And like his hometown of New York, Miami had its share of gangs. Legions of thugs flourished around cheap hotels and restaurants in typically bad neighborhoods. Stuart cruised through the deplorable streets of Liberty City in his rented BMW convertible. My, my, the looks he received from the harshly-impoverished residents. Caution became his closest ally. Little did the young punks holding up gang signs know Stuart was protected by Universal powers.
He became aware of his immediate surroundings. He didn’t necessarily try and fit in with those who had mischief in their hearts. Stuart had no qualms about being a tourist. He turned the corner and drove down a dark alley. In the very section of Miami where the Play Station video game “Grand Theft Auto” was modeled after, gang members combed the streets looking for danger and adventure.
Liberty City housed half a million of Miami-Dade County’s African American and Afro West Indians. This wasn’t good for Marshall Higbie. Being a fiftyish white male with a medium build and slicked-back brown hair, he also who happened to be blind. Marshall walked down the semi-lit street of North 27th Avenue tapping his cane down onto the broken-up sidewalk. There were those veteran Liberty City residents who remembered the 1979 case which involved a white-on-black police fatal beating.
For those who didn’t want to forget, they passed the stories down to their children and grandchildren. The fury of knowing how five white policemen beat an innocent black motorist to death continued to spark the undying flames of anger. Them being acquitted by an all-white jury set off a disastrous riot. Unfortunately, for Marshall, whites made up less than one-percent of Liberty City’s population. Him walking through such a notoriously dangerous section of Miami at ten o’clock at night made him one of the bravest souls alive.
He didn’t know any different and couldn’t do any better. The check he received every month for disability was barely enough to survive on. Family members didn’t care. So-called friends were phony and out to cheat him. Five young punks getting off the Miami Metrorail near the Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Plaza Station spotted Marshall trying to find his way down the street. These disgusting young men who terrorized residents of Liberty Square housing projects had big plans for Marshall. A blind man not knowing his way around at nighttime was an easy target.
The leader of the “Fearsome Five” street gang was Raymond Fuller. Most knew him by the street name of “Ray Ray”. He robbed liquor stores and elderly people, assaulted rival gang members, and sold drugs on street corners, which earned him a sizeable rap sheet. Raymond stood six foot even and had hard muscles bulging from his lean frame. Those big juicy pimples in which teenagers dreaded erupted out of his entire face. Only an experienced dermatologist could tackle the type of acne he’d been cursed with. Raymond’s second-in-command was Timothy Ford, a brutal street warrior who went by the nickname of “Shorty Tim”.
Standing only five-foot-one, Timothy didn’t take crap off nobody. He stood by his creed that if someone bothered him, he’d bother them back, sometimes initiating the bothering himself. It honored him to have filled up a rap sheet which ranged from strongarm robbery to attempted murder. Going in and out jail made him proud. He knew not of a better life after growing up in a badly broken home.
Ranking under Timothy was another brutal street warrior named William Stokes. The total opposite of Shorty Tim, he stood six-foot-six, and weighed a solid two-hundred and fifty pounds. William earned the nickname “Big Will” from his massive body frame. Dancing around the fact that he could’ve been a possible NFL star, he regretted not listening to the oldtimers and following his dream. William did time for robbery, burglary, and auto theft.
Following in the ranks of William was Edward Taylor, better known in the thug culture as “Eddie T”. Edward served five years for the murder of his sister’s boyfriend, then turned around and did another two years for parole violation shortly after his first release. Fear of a vicious thug like him became widespread around Liberty City. Being unemployable and under-educated, he had nothing better to do than harm people. The youngest of the Fearsome Five was Damon Walker, a low level hoodlum who’d been nicknamed “Boolie” because of his dark charcoal skin.
Damon searched all through Liberty City for easy targets, often preying on the elderly and the weak. His criminal rap sheet was shamed with convictions which ranged from sexual deviant misconduct to robbery and larceny. There they were, five degenerate hoodlums, ones who couldn’t blame anyone for their trespassings and transgressions against other people. All five were hardened criminals.
All five carried the attitude they just didn’t care. All five had their eyes fixed on a helpless blind man. As a gang unit, all of them wore black jeans which sagged far below their backside,T-shirts that were musty and dingy, and black scarves wrapped around their sweaty heads. Pistols and an assault rifle were the weapons they carried on them at all times.
Raymond would be the mouthpiece for his band of rouges. “Yo, my man, Shorty Tim, when we rush that blind white dude, I want you to crack him in the back of the head with your pistol. You catch my drift, my man?”
“Awe, hell yeah,” Timothy complied, his pistol stuffed on the side of his waist.
“My man, Big Will,” Raymond continued. “I want you to pick him up and hold him in a chokehold. You got me, my man?”
“Gotcha,” William nodded, a long assault rifle stashed down into his left pants leg.
“Eddie T, I want you to crack him in the face while Big Will’s got’em in a chokehold. Follow me, partner?”
“I follow you,” Edward conformed, an automatic pistol wedged between his belt and waist.
“Brother Boolie, after Eddie T. splits his face open, I want you to go through his pockets and pull out all of his money. Something tells me that he just cashed his state check. You down with that, my man?”
“You know that I’m down with it,” Damon cooperated, a glock pistol stuffed in his pants.
“Cool,” Richard plotted, sliding his pistol to the middle of his pants. “Alright, it’s time to make our move. Everybody knows what they’ve gotta do.”
The plot against Marshall Higbie got transmitted back to Stuart. Sitting in a dark alley inside the parked BMW convertible, he construed every word spoken by Raymond and the others. Time was crucial. He had to act fast. The magical talisman slid from under his beach shirt. The usual middle three fingers circled around the mighty Hebrew lettering.
The dark Miami skies opened up. Clouds moved aside and eventually dissipated. Winds not coming from hurricane sources blew at monstrous speeds. The powers of the Universe were activated once again. Stuart concentrated hard until he summoned the very presence of Queen Devorah and the hive members. A golden light resplendently lit up the dark skies. Shooting across the sky and to the rescue of Marshall Higbie was Queen Devorah and her hive. Richard, Timothy, William, Edward, and Damon, they all looked up in the sky, thinking they were watching a live science fiction movie.
“Yo, Shorty Tim, what’s that?” asked Richard, snatching his pistol from out of his pants.
“I don’t know!” Timothy rejected, also pulling out his pistol for protection against the possible ambush.
“Looks like glowing monsters flying through the sky,” William misjudged, sliding the assault rifle out of his pants legs.
“Are those aliens from outer space?” Edward questioned his thug constituents, grabbing his pistol to avoid any attacks.
“No, those look like a buncha giant killer bees,” Damon noticed, aiming his pistol up towards the sky.
“This can’t be real,” Richard denied, ready to fire his pistol at any second.
What Richard and the others witnessed was real. Marshall dropped to his knees and held on to his walking stick. Queen Devorah raced downward from the sky. Her flapping wings radiated with a sensational golden glow. Balls of fire shot from both of her antennaes and hit the designated target. Richard rolled across the ground to put out the flames which burned half of his T-shirt. He aimed the pistol at Queen Devorah and fired several shots.
This truly angered the queen. Instead of discharging more fire from her antennaes, she decided to use the most beneficial weapon on her body. The flaming golden stinger rattled from behind. Richard fired more shots from an almost empty clip. The bullets went right through the queen like the thinnest of air. The angrier she got, the more potent her stinger became. She whisked Richard across the back with her powerful legs and leveled him to the ground. Lying flat on his back, she jabbed him in the ribcage like a sharp Samurai sword.
He screamed like he’d never done. The potent venom packed inside the stinger enlarged the side of his abdomen. The pain was excruciating. Richard looked into Queen Devorah’s shifting yellow-to-red eyes. This single occurrence was one he felt was his worst nightmare. She stabbed him twice in the chest with her great weapon. Using the razor-sharp tip of her stinger, she burst open several of the cystic-like pimples on his face. Queen Devorah taught Richard a lesson he’d never forget.
While the queen of the hive took care of Richard, his fellow gang members believed they could shoot the swarm of giant killer bees away from them. William fired the rifle up in the sky. His attempts to kill any of the hive members were silly. The ammunition went right past them. Like their queen, they were angered by any attempts on their life. Two hive members outmaneuvered William and stung him on opposite sides of his face. His head swole to the size of a pumpkin.
Timothy and Edward fired up in the sky like a New Year’s celebration. What a shame for them to waste good ammunition. A legion of the hive surrounded them and stung them up and down their arms and legs. Before long, their arms and legs puffed up like the stuffing inside a mattress. Damon fired up in the air until he held an empty pistol. Other hive members were quite upset. Their stingers were set in motion. Flying down towards Damon at high speeds, their targets hit the bullseye. He got poked up and down his back and chest with burning stingers. It took less than thirty seconds for him to go from a flat chest to one like Mr. Universe. Sting, baby, sting! That’s exactly what Queen Devorah and her hive helpers did to the Liberty City gang known as the Fearsome Five.
Queen Devorah lifted Richard off the ground. Her shifting yellow-to-red eyes struck fear in him. “You know, it’s people like you who gives this planet a bad name. Where are your morals? How can you have the audacity to try and rob a blind man? Didn’t mother and father teach you to do unto others, as you would have others to do unto you?”
“This just can’t be real,” Richard groped with slurred words.
“Wrong, it is real. The people here in Liberty City are hardworkers who want a future for their families. Guys like you and your buddies come along and rob them of that. Stinging you across your body is probably the best thing that ever happened to you.”
Richard felt nauseated from the venom of the stings. “But bees don’t get as big as you. Bees don’t talk like people talk. This has gotta be one of the worst dreams of my life.”
“You should be ashamed to look at yourself in the mirror. Bad luck will follow you for the rest of your life.”
Richard got weaker and weaker. Still, he listened to Queen Devorah. “How is it that bees can talk like human beings talk. Where did you come from? Are you from outer space?”
“You must repent to the Ruler of the Universe for your evil intentions.”
Queen Devorah and her hive faded into the nighttime skies. Stuart didn’t want to see Richard and his hoodlum comrades die. He dialed nine-one-one and reported the five men who needed desperate medical attention. The promise he made to The One Most High had to be kept. The killing of even the worst perpetrators wasn’t acceptable.
Marshall Higbie had no idea that a hive of killer bees with supernatural powers came to his rescue. Did it matter since he didn’t have sight? Stuart drove over to the curb and got out of the car. Marshall stood up and tapped his walking stick against the wall to help him find his bearings.
Residents of Liberty City stood across the street looking over at the stung-up gang members.
Stuart placed his arms over the shoulders of Marshall. This sort of alarmed the blind man. “Everything okay, Marshall?”
“Who are you?” asked Marshall, feeling Stuart along his arms.
“My name’s Stuart Duffelmeyer,” Stuart disclosed, opening his trust between him and Marshall. “I’m from Staten Island, New York.”
“Why’re you in Miami?”
“Taking care of some business. Are you alright, sir?”
“Well, the last I remembered, there were a group of guys coming towards me like they were going to jump me. Then, I heard those same guys turn around and shout that some aliens from outer space were flying through the sky. Besides all that, I think I’m okay.”
“No one’s going to hurt you ever again, Marshall. I really mean that, my friend.”
“Let’s not talk about hurt. About a year ago, some guys jumped me and broke my jaw. They took every dime in my pocket.”
Listening to his story angered Stuart on the spot. As Queen Devorah had asked Richard: “Why would someone hurt or rob a blind man?”
Stuart looked at the innocent, slender face of Marshall. He noticed some imperfections. One of his eyes was partially opened while the other was completely closed. The left jaw the perpetrators had broken sat much lower than the right jaw. How unmerciful the world could be. Stuart felt no remorse for what the queen and her helpers did to those thug-bastards. He felt great compassion for Marshall. His three middle fingers went to work once again on the magical talisman. A very special request went out into the Universe.
Concentrating moreso than ever, Stuart begged for mercy from The One Most High. The planets and stars throughout the Universal Galaxies moved at different intervals. The skies presented an unexpected waxing crescent moon. Countless more stars spread apart to make way for a cosmic light to blast onto Earth.
A sizzling glow encompassed Marshall’s face. Rabbi Irwin Wedemeyer had been sent by The One Most High. He placed his divine spiritual hands over Marshall’s eyes. A force shook him until beams of light detonated across his face.
Rabbi Wedemeyer whispered into the right ear of Marshall. “You may open your eyes now. The One Most High has now granted you the gift of sight. It will be dutiful for you to praise The One Most High for the blessing bestowed upon you.”
The Rabbi returned to the Heavens. What had happened to Marshall was beyond miraculous. The once blind man now had the luxury of sight. After being blind his entire life, the first face he’d ever seen was Stuart’s.
He grabbed Stuart and bearhugged him rather tight. “I can see! I can see!”
“The One Most High, The Ruler of the Universe, he has granted you sight through one of his many miracles.”
“Church!” Marshall proclaimed. “I’ve got to get to the nearest church. No one’s going to believe that I can see.”
“The glory goes to The One Most High.”
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Marshall exclaimed with three victorious shouts. “The One Most High has given me sight! The Ruler of the Universe has allowed me to see!”
Stuart and Marshall exchanged hugs before they parted ways. Good deeds were emancipated on Stuart’s behalf while on his journey to seek vengeance against the egomaniacal eight.


CHAPTER—23

MOTION FROM THE OCEAN

Traveling from Miami to Los Angles sent Stuart embarking upon another mission in going after another member of the egomaniacal eight. A bright warm sun and sparkling beaches kept him within the boundaries of a coastal environment. The Gulf Coast and the West Coast both offered mild temperatures and people with sun-baked skin and toned bodies. The ocean breeze from the Pacific calmed the senses of the beachgoers.
The Millennium Biltmore in downtown Los Angeles provided the five star amenities Stuart desired during his travel excursions. Not that he was too good to stay in lower class hotels, but The Millennium Biltmore was centrally-located, while the service was suited more to his taste. Being the premier choice of celebrities and presidents and dignitaries, Stuart picked the hotel which offered historic grandeur and modern luxury in the heart of downtown Los Angeles.
Being close to the vibrant cultural and financial districts, he’d eventually indulge in the major attractions closeby. Besides visiting Dodger Stadium, Walt Disney Concert Hall, Staples Center, Hollywood and Beverly Hills, he had other places to go with big plans in mind. Stuart dropped down onto the plush, king-sized bed inside his exquisite suite. Looking around, he felt like one of the important celebrities or dignitaries who’d stayed there many years before he was even born. The mint-conditioned Victorian style furniture made him feel right at home. His parents passed their elegant taste down to him.
Refreshed was how Stuart felt when he showered with a lavender and cherry shower gel. Mixed with designer colognes and body spray, a scent tingled from his pores and clothing like a pleasant Spring breeze. The straight flight from Miami to Los Angeles dulled his senses until he landed in the “City of Angels”. Local weathermen predicted mild sunny days with slight breezes out of the southeast.
Stuart walked off the elevator and the view of the Millennium Biltmore Hotel awoke his one-time dull senses. What he witnessed was breathtaking. The Italian-Spanish influence dominated much of the lobby space. The hand-painted frescoes, bas-relief décor, fountains, polished marble floors, ornate ceilings and abundant tropical flowers, were a true testament to class and elegance.
Noises from crowds of people coming into the Biltmore Hotel resonated into the canals of Stuart’s ears. He turned around in a three-sixty formation. He saw hundreds of people coming through the lobby wearing tuxedos and evening dresses from the 1930s and 1940s. These were the modern times of the Twenty-First Century. Where did the people come from? A towering golden statue of the Academy Award’s Oscar appeared from out of nowhere. The Twentieth Annual Academy Awards was hosted at the Biltmore.
The spirits of all the attendees pulled a chapter out of history. Stuart stood in the lobby to witness it. None of the hotel guests from the present heard nor saw any of Oscar attendees. This signified Stuart’s powers to communicate with the dead.
The transparent spiritual form of some man being escorted by two beautiful women smiled right at Stuart. “When they say that some guys have all the luck, I guess they were talking about me.”
Stuart responded by saying, “Looking at those two beauties, you’re a living example, or rather a dead example, that some guys are just luckier than others.”
“Sorry, but we’ve gotta get in here to find our seats.”
“Sure, just enjoy yourself this evening.”
“I plan to.”
Stuart had forgotten how he possessed powers that were beyond the Earth. He could he see things others weren’t allowed to see? Even when it came to connections with the spirit world, not much went past his plain sight view.
He went up to one of the front desk clerks and asked, “Miss, I’ve got one of the craziest questions that anyone’s ever asked you.”
“What might that be, sir?”
“Were the Academy Awards hosted here at this hotel?”
“I see you’ve done your homework. In fact, the Academy Awards were hosted here all during the 1930s and 1940s.”
“Bet those Hollywood people had a grand time here at the Biltmore.”
“Sure they did.”
Stuart stepped away from the desk. Unanticipatedly, a U.S. President and British Prime Minister passed him by with an entourage of top securitymen. History went right by him in the spirit realm. He arrived at Venice Beach during the hours of the setting sun. Right before him was the sign which read: “Venice Beach, California: Another Day in Paradise”. The warmth of the setting sun and breaking waves from the Southern California coastline brought out thousands to go up and down the Venice boardwalk. Egos of disproportionate measures lingered in the atmosphere. Stuart could tell he walked in the midst of men and women who challenged one another’s status. In Los Angeles, if you had wealth and power, you had everything.
The shopping, dining, sports, recreation and entertainment, attracted visitors from every corner of the world. Stuart took his own stroll past the basketball, beach volleyball, handball, and paddle tennis courts. Coming upon the section known as “Muscle Beach”, he overheard some elite bodybuilder claim to accept the challenge of bench pressing a thousand pounds. A half-ton? Was this guy crazy? Crowds of people stood around to see if this man with big muscles could really bench press a thousand pounds.
He took the deepest, most important breath of his life. His fingers gripped the weight bar. One more deep breath and he was ready for the challenge. Using extraordinary strength, he lifted the weight bar and lowered the weights to his chest. Trying to lift the thousand pounds back into the air left him gasping for breath.
The steel bar pressed forcibly into his chest. He couldn’t breathe at all. Spotters tried lifting the weights off him. Not even their muscle-bound strength could help him. Spectators rushed over to help. Collectively, even their assistance was useless. The bodybuilder desperately gasped for breath. His face turned bluish from the lack of oxygen. A case of hysteria broke out amongst the crowd. Stuart looked over and saw they needed help.
He moved everyone aside as he picked up the solid ton of steel weights. Gently, he sat the weights on the ground with just one hand. Bystanders were in complete awe. Stuart only weighed a buck and forty-something pounds. How could a man of his height and weight lift up a ton with one hand with such ease?
“How in God’s name did you do that?” asked the trained bodybuilder, still gasping hard for breath.
“Ummmmm, it’s no big deal,” Stuart said with modesty, having taking center stage at Venice Beach.
“No big deal! You just lifted up a thousand pounds with one hand.”
“The important thing is that you’re okay.”
“You definitely saved my life and I thank you for it.”
“Next time, don’t stretch beyond your limits when it comes to lifting weights.”
“Six-hundred pounds should’ve been my limit. This incident showed me that showing off can get you killed.”
“Yes sir, my friend. It’s good to entertain people, but don’t lose your life in the process.”
“Thanks so much, buddy.”
The bodybuilder pulled Stuart closer to shake his hand while giving him a tight bearhug. The crowd clapped to show their gratitude for his act of bravery. People dispersed to other areas of Venice Beach while Stuart continued on his journey. Being somewhat of a new hero, women in bikinis and tight, hip-hugging shorts followed him along the boardwalk. The female species knew something was special about him. Not until a man gained some level of fame did the women started showing up. He ignored them to concentrate on another of his specific missions.
A layer of darkness now dominated the Los Angeles skies. Time for business once again.
The one-time packed Venice Beach converted to a crowd numbering less than twenty. Stuart looked down at his watch and it was twenty minutes past midnight according to Pacific Standard Time. Strong waves from the Mighty Pacific pounded up towards the shores. The nighttime breeze whistled off the waves and sung a strange tune in Stuart’s ears. The big ferris wheel over at The Santa Monica Pier lit up as it spun around. Most residents around Venice Beach had retired for the evening. Very little sources of light was seen around the boardwalk. All the shops and restaurants had closed.
Things were at the point Stuart wanted them. He brought the magical talisman out of his Old Navy shorts and held it up to the nighttime skies. Concentrating at astute levels, he felt around the edges and ridges of the powerful Hebrew letters. Once again, the powers of the Universe were activated on his behalf. The Milky Way and Andromeda Galaxies spun at millions of revolutions per seconds. Charged cosmic powers clustered all the stars together throughout the dark Los Angeles skies. The stars and crescent waxed moon moved aside to make room for the Heavens to open up the skies.
Through the wide opening, there came many balls of cosmic fire. Half of the Pacific’s one-hundred and seventy-million square kilometers supernaturally split open. Winds blew in excess of a hundred miles an hour. Stuart was lifted off the sandy beaches of Venice and high into the sky. A force within the thick hydrosphere of the Pacific pulled him under the massive body of water. Traveling at supersonic speeds, he found himself nearly 36,000 feet below the surface.
The Marina Trench was the exact location that the cosmic forces navigated Stuart to. Once on the very bottom of the Pacific Ocean floor, not even the standard atmospheric power exerted enough pressure to bother Stuart. Emerging from the sediments of the ocean floor’s mud, sand, lava came a great white shark. The great white flashed long rows of razor-sharp teeth.
Both of the shark’s eyes glowed with a strong fluorescent blue. Other sharks sliced through the canyon-like trenches of the ocean’s floor. Whale sharks, angel sharks, hammerhead sharks, and tiger sharks, they all swam at unbelievable speeds from other ocean bodies. Stuart didn’t need a single bit of oxygen to breathe the five miles below the ocean’s surface. Universal powers provided him with all the air he needed. A beaming light from the Heavenly bodies penetrated through miles of water to provide vision for the consecrating ritual.
The fluorescent blue light mixed in with the cosmic light from above. Stuart and the great white shark sent telepathic messages back and forth. They studied one another for a moment. The great white swam around him in circles while other sharks followed. This was no sign of an attack. A mere pre-requisite initiation would get underway. Other ocean creatures scattered to various parts of the Pacific. The great white’s eyes appeared as flashing blue laser beams. Telepathic messages were still being sent into the highly-developed brain of the shark.
Vibrations moved up and down its long vertebrae. Stuart relayed silent messages to the brain’s area centrally-located between the eye sockets. The great white processed the information like a super computer. All the sharks present knew that Stuart was ordained with inexplicable powers. Before long, sharks numbering in the hundreds filled space around The Marina Trench.
Stuart would speak the first words. “Do you know who I am?”
“From deep within the ocean’s depths, you have been sent to become by master,” answered the great white shark.
“With us being deep under the ocean’s surface, do you know that you are to obey my every command?”
“Yes, master.”
“Do you also know that my special powers have been granted by The One Most High?”
“Yes, I know, master.”
“When you are summoned, you are to come upon my direct command. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master.”
“When I give you an order, you are expected to carry out that order to the best of your ability. Am I understood?”
“You are fully understood, master.”
“For all intent and purposes, when you are directed to discipline someone, you cannot terminate their lives. Understood?”
“Understood, master.”
“I must obey The One Most High. You are to obey me. By powers invested through me into you, it is hereby ordained that you will serve me.”
“Master, only you will I serve.”
The great white shark bowed down in consummate servitude.
Stuart spoke to the multitude of other sharks. “As with your leader, you shall also yield to my every command. You are to appear when you are summoned. Am I understood?”
Every shark present shook the tips of their pointed noses and bowed down in servitude.
“Your powers will stretch far beyond the great masses of water on this Earth. Greatness will follow in your wake. Planet Earth will submit to your immense powers. Am I clear?”
“You are clear, master.”
“The One Most High has allowed you to take part in something divine. Are you ready for divine greatness?”
“Yes, master.”
Towering waves pounded throughout the surface of the Pacific.
Stuart moved and created enough motion to float over by the leader of the school of sharks. He placed both overlapped hands at the center of the great white’s head. “From this day forward, you have been ordained with the name Mowab, which means water or seed in Hebrew. In the Holy Bible, Mowab was a son of Lot.”
“Master, it is official that you’ve given me the name Mowab.”
“For the rest of the school, you shall address him as Commodore Mowab. You are to obey the commodore as he has been sanctioned to obey me. When I call upon you, I too, shall address you Commodore Mowab.”
“Yes, master.”
“Commodore Mowab and the rest of the school, welcome to the sensationalistic family of Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer.”
Commodore Mowab, along with the hundreds of other sharks, surrounded Stuart to show their respect. They bowed once again to express supreme loyalty. The floor to the Mighty Pacific Ocean rumbled like a disturbed volcano. Bright cosmic lights from the Heavens penetrated the surface waves and on down through many miles of ocean water. The waters divided and Stuart was blasted back to the top. Safely, he was placed on the sandy beaches of Venice. Not one living soul over at the Santa Monica Pier, nor the residents who lived closeby, noticed anything out of the ordinary. The moon and stars returned to their respective places in the nighttime skies. The checks and balances of nature returned to normal.


CHAPTER—24

FROM DISCRIMINATING TO TERMINATING

Many partygoers in Hollywood quickly expressed their delight after a Federal Court judge declared Proposition Ten to be unconstitutional. The one-time proposition banned same sex marriages in the state of California. Native Californians flooded internet websites with their ecstatic responses. Television news stations had no complaints since their ratings shot through the sky.
Club Sidelines on Santa Monica Boulevard in West Hollywood had filled to capacity in celebration of overturning the decision. Notable celebrities and just everyday people showed up in record numbers. Strobe lights and giant glittering disco balls projected rainbow lights down on the enormous dancefloor. Gay men and women from all walks of life celebrated like there was no tomorrow.
The deejay played rock, pop, r&b, rap, and alternative music to keep people dancing out of control. This particular Saturday night ignited them with a fever that even John Travolta wouldn’t understand. The outdoor patio area had crowds of lesbians and gay men tapping glasses. Cigarette and marijuana smoke clouded the air where they embraced one another with joy.
The people out on the patio were called inside the club for a very important announcement. The music dropped to a lower level. Gay rights activist Felicia Holland took center stage inside Club Sidelines. Bright lights from the deejay’s booth shined directly in her face. Felicia kept her short graying hair cropped close to her head while her figure stayed readily slim. Her new wife beamed with pride as she watched her significant other stare out at the multitude of gay patrons.
“Are the mormons pissed now?” Felicia asked her crowd of loyal gay followers.
The huge gay crowd responded with, “Yeahhhhhhhhhhh!”
“Isn’t this a huge victory for the civil rights of us gays?” Felicia prompted, throwing both arms high in the air.
“Yeahhhhhhhhh!” the crowd fired back.
“Should there be a law against true love?”
“Noooooooooo!”
“Should there ever be a ban on gay marriages?”
“Noooooooooo!”
“Are we happy that Proposition Ten has been overturned?”
“Yes we are!”
“What did you say?”
“Yes we are!”
“Don’t we deserve equality like everybody else?”
“Sure we do!”
“What’d you say?”
“Sure we do!”
“Listen to me, everybody,” Felicia conceded, fired up to the max. “There is no practical argument against the harmless institution of gay marriage. No one should be treated differently just because they’re a homosexual. Overturning the decision is so much bigger than marriage itself. It takes wisdom and compassion in knowing that we can be heard, and that action can make a difference. Now, let me hear you say, ‘Hooray’!”
“Hooooooooray!” the crowd reciprocated, banging glasses from all around Club Sidelines.
“Let me hear you say it again.”
“Hooooooooray!”
Felicia stepped down to exit from the spotlight. The deejay pumped up the music and the gay crowd came together once again on the dancefloor.
Where there was a positive, there was always a negative. Where there was a celebration crowd, there was always a wrecking crew. Right outside Club Sidelines was a group of angry protestors who believed how same-sex marriages were an abomination. Held angrily in their grip were picket signs which read: GOD HATES GAYS and PRIESTS ARE PERVERTS.
Their leader, the Reverend Wesley David Warren, picketed around Club Sidelines with his loyal followers shouting anti-gay rhetoric. Reverend Warren and his people were known to picket major events like gay pride gatherings. Now, they picketed a major gathering at one of the biggest gay nightclubs in Los Angeles. He believed that natural disasters and terrorist attacks were God’s punishment for a society that tolerated homosexuality.
Having traveled all the way from Knoxville, Tennessee, he and over fifty of his dedicated followers were outraged when they heard about the reverse decision of Proposition Ten. Operating a church built around the core of anti-homosexuality theology, Reverend Warren felt that it was his sacred duty to warn everybody that America was doomed. Bouncers employed by Club Sidelines warned him and his followers to stay within a certain feet of the building.
“Sir, could you step away from the club,” requested one of the bigger bouncers. He stood at the front entrance with his towering six-foot-six frame.
“Young man, we’re protected by our First Amendment Rights,” Reverend Warren declared, waving the sign right in the face of the big bouncer.
“I understand that, but you’re blocking part of the entrance to the club.”
“Don’t you understand that homosexuality is wrong?”
“Right or wrong, I’m paid to maintain order here at Club Sidelines.”
“The wrath of God is coming down on this country, starting with the state of California.”
“Sir, people are free to express their sexuality. If they want to celebrate the overturn of Proposition Ten, then they should be free to do so.”
“They should also be free to burn in hell for all of eternity.”
Reverend Warren backed away from the bouncer waving his protest sign. He and his followers walked in a perfect cadence. They chanted with fury in their voice.
“God hates gays!” shouted one-half of the fifty or so protestors.
“Priests are perverts!” yelled the other half of the anti-gay advocates.
Having been born and raised in Greenville, Mississippi, Reverend Warren shed some of the racially-offensive doctrine taught to him. Homosexuality was just plain wrong in his mind. Men weren’t supposed to be married to men. Women weren’t supposed to be married to women.
The balding white-haired and baggy-eyed Southern Baptist preacher pressed on with his anti-gay propaganda and violence-inspiring hate rhetoric.
He gathered his followers in one big huddle and told them, “Those homo rejects in that nightclub are spitting right in the face of God. They’re happy that the state of California has passed Proposition Ten. So damn what! It sickens me that those gays don’t care about bringing down the wrath of God on us as he did on Sodom and Gomorrah. Homosexuality goes against the laws of nature, against the divine laws of God. Jews, who’ve got much power, have allowed this to be tolerated. Jews are the ones who killed our Lord Jesus, and their own prophets, and they please not God. The Jews have also doomed the U.S.A., wandering this Earth despised and smitten with moral and spiritual blindness by a divine judicial stroke.”
The followers of Reverend Warren were mesmerized by his brief speech. He expressed much anti-semitism against God’s chosen people. Behind the title of reverend, he also earned the title of lawyer and civil rights advocate. Now, as a figure who claimed the national spotlight, he told stories of how he systematically brought down Jim Crow laws and survived brutal threats against his life. One incident involved the shooting out of his car windows by Klansmen and being called a “nigger lover”.
“United you’ll fall!” Reverend Warren asserted, shaking his picket sign at gays entering Club Sidelines.
The bouncers kept a close eye on him and his members. Gays coming and leaving the club were disgruntled to see the Warren followers protest against them.
“In hell shall you burn for an eternity!” the reverend announced to those patronizing the club.
Two of the bouncers, the size of well-sculptured football stars, didn’t take too kindly the remarks being made by Reverend Warren.
There was a fiery exchange of eye contact being relayed between them. In the past, he’d been arrested for battery, assault, disorderly conduct, trespassing, threats, and contempt of court. But none of those prior arrests mattered to him. As the leader of a small Baptist church in Knoxville, Tennessee, he wanted to wipe out homosexuality from America and abroad. He avoided prison time and kept right on with his protests.
Since none of the gay patrons inside Club Sidelines listened to him, he decided it was time to take matters into his own hands. His homosexual-hating blood bubbled to the surface. He and his fifty plus church members traveled across the country in two big white buses. Inside the buses were weapons such as pistols and mase and stun guns. Towards the back were several full cans of gasoline.
Four members of his group were ordered to pull pistols on the bouncers at the front entrance. Not wanting to call their bluff, the bouncers moved aside and went down the middle of the block on Santa Monica Boulevard. Reverend Warren climbed inside the first bus and drove it right on the sidewalk to block the front doors. One of his most faithful followers drove the other bus to the back entrance and parked it to block those doors. The front and back entrances were now barricaded. Club Sidelines patrons who were inside had no way of leaving.
Reverend Warren and his helpers grabbed the gasoline cans and books of matches from the bus. The self-professed Baptist preacher had gone totally insane. Driving around the corner in a rented Mercedes-Benz 450SL was Stuart. The second he drove onto Santa Monica Boulevard, he’d seen Reverend Warren and the others pouring gasoline around all four sides of Club Sidelines. Not a second was wasted. He jerked the magical talisman from under his designer silk shirt and exclusively meditated to the powers of The One Most High. Yet another request was sent out to the Universe.
The ground underneath the concrete rumbled. Strong winds from the dark Los Angeles skies blew down onto crowds of people along Santa Monica and Hollywood Boulevards. Out towards the Pacific Ocean, the powers of the Universe split open the waters. Bursting through the roaring waves were Commodore Mowab and his school of allegiant sharks. At that exact moment, Reverend Warren and his protestors had set Club Sidelines on fire. Big flames engulfed around the building. People inside tried kicking and boldering their way out.
Jetting through the star-filled skies flapping their powerful shark’s fins were Commodore Mowab and his loyal school of other sharks. Several people had called nine-one-one for fire department emergency assistance. But the building was rapidly being eaten up by the raging flames.
Using water stored in his large spiral valves, the commodore ejected many gallons from the Pacific Ocean on top of the burning building. Members from his school forced many more gallons out from their spiral valves. The sharks used their aerodynamic fins to fly around the building shooting water from every direction.
A matter of minutes was all it took to put out the fire. Once an opening was forced through the roof, Commodore Mowab blew his forceful breath inside to rid the burnt club of deadly smoke inhalation. Not a single person inside Club Sidelines was harmed. Reverend Warren looked up in the sky and just knew his eyes had deceived him. A shark with a fluourescent blue color radiating around its frame was only a hallucination.
Reverend Warren rubbed both eyes and said, “I know I’m eighty-two years old, and I know I might be close to being senile, but sharks don’t fly and they don’t glow.”
Commodore Mowab darted down at the reverend and wrapped his fins tightly around his arms. “Wrong, Minister of Hatred. How dare you try and commit genocide on a group of people just because they’re gay. You know what that makes you?”
“What?” Reverend Warren asked, his aged heart pumping with confusion.
“A murderer. It makes you a cold-blooded, calculated, heartless murderer.”
The reverend couldn’t believe what was happening. “Sharks don’t talk, nor do they live outside the ocean. How can you live on land?”
“Never mind that,” Commodore Mowab alluded. “You were just about to commit mass genocide. Why? Because they’re gay? You condemned them to hell, when it’s your ownself who should be condemned. Heaven doesn’t have room for murderers with no remorse.”
“Talking sharks only happen in cartoons. Where’d you come from and what do you want?”
“Before you pass judgement on others, pass judgement on yourself.”
“Speaking to a shark is just like speaking to myself. This isn’t really happening.”
“Oh, it’s happening, alright. Your self-righteous attitude had led you to be accusatory towards the Jewish people. They are God’s chosen people and they are the apple of his eye. The One Most High has made a covenant with his people.”
Reverend Warren pulled away from the tight grip of Commodore Mowab’s fins. He slid the .45 automatic pistol from in between his pants and fired several shots at the commodore. The bullets went straight through him. Boy, did this piss off the commodore.
He grabbed the reverend and slapped him a few times with his flexible fins. Red patches spread across the reverend’s face. To give him something to remember him by, he scraped his face and neck and arms with the tip of his sharp teeth. Ounces of salty Pacific water was spit at the center of his face.
“Remember, gays are people, too.”
“A flying shark that talks? This has gotta be some type of plague from Heaven.”
“My master has ordered me to plague you since you’ve been unkind to mankind.”
“Who in tarnation is your master?”
“You shall never know.”
“Your master sure isn’t God himself.”
“Guessing won’t give you the answer.”
Other members of Reverend Warren’s church congregation ran hysterically up and down Santa Monica Boulevard and onto side streets. They tried avoiding the wrath of the sharks flying above. Six of his members still had loaded pistols in their possession. As the only measure of avoiding a possible attack, they fired up in the air. They hoped to wound the sharks and drop their dead bodies to the ground. Like their leader, Commodore Mowab, the bullets went straight through them. Their anger only intensified from the ambush.
Flying down at high speeds, the school of sharks scraped the backs and chests and faces of the fifty or more church members with the razor-sharp edges of their teeth. Blood trickled from the cuts and stained their clothing. Some of the members were smacked dead in the face by their hard flapping fins. Jugfuls of Pacific water splashed in their faces. An irritable salt taste coated their throats and rushed up their nostrils. Soon, they coughed and snorted out the water.
Commodore Mowab and his school faded away into the skies. Lying on the ground in pain was Reverend Warren and every one of his followers. The shark attacks taught them a good lesson. Just because someone was gay, it didn’t give them the right to try and burn them up inside a gay nightclub.


CHAPTER—25

FLY THROUGH THE NIGHT

The West Hollywood Sheriff’s Station responded to the influx of nine-one-one calls shortly after fire trucks and ambulances rushed to the fire scene at the now burned down Club Sidelines. Smoke still wavered from around the building. The patrons once trapped inside felt lucky to be alive. Patrol deputies and detectives from the Sheriff’s Station didn’t know who to hustle any answers from.
Crowds of people who lived or partied in West Hollywood wanted to know what happened. Lieutenant Theodore Franklin from the West Hollywood Detective’s Bureau brought along with him two other detectives, three sergeants, and a crime analyst to find out who burned down Club Sidelines and why. Leland “Big Juicy” Campbell, a man who stood six-foot-seven and weighed in at two-hundred and eighty pounds, might’ve had some answers for them.
Lieutenant Franklin made a formal introduction to the big bouncer. “Young man, I’m Detective Theodore Franklin with the Sheriff’s Detective Bureau. I can see that you’re a bouncer here at this burned down nightclub. Can you tell me exactly what happened here tonight?”
“Where do I start?” Leland snoozed. “A preacher and a lot of his church people from Tennessee kept protesting in the front of the club. Myself and other bouncers kept telling them to not bother anyone coming or going from the club. We kept telling them to step away from the club. It got to the point they’d gotten out of hand.”
“Out of hand? How’s that?”
“Cursing and heckling and and hissing at the customers. They held up signs that said: ‘God Hates Gays’ and ‘Priests Are Perverts’. They kept telling everyone they were going to burn in hell forever.”
“Had you ever seen any of them?”
“Never in my life.”
“Could you tell me how the club got burned down?”
“The preacher and his people pulled guns on us and made us move away from the front entrance. Then, they got inside those buses over there and drove one of them on the sidewalk to block the front doors. He parked it close enough where no one could get out. After that, one of his people drove the other bus to the back of the club and blocked the back doors. No one could leave out through the front nor the back.”
“With both doors now blocked, what happened after that?”
“The preacher and some of his people grabbed gasoline cans from off the buses and started pouring it all around the building. Once they poured enough of it, they set the building on fire.”
“The building’s now on fire, what took place next?”
“Lieutenant, you probably wouldn’t believe me.”
“In my line of work, I’ve heard the weirdest of stories.”
“Great big flying sharks shot gallons and gallons of water out of their mouths to put out the fire.”
“Flying sharks!” Lieutenant Franklin gaped, brushing back his thick brown hair. “Son, sharks don’t fly. They darn sure don’t fly around dry land and shoot gallons of water down onto a burning building.”
“These sharks did.”
“Have you had any drinks tonight?”
“Not’a one, Lieutenant.”
“Are you drug free?”
“To the core, sir.”
“Are you telling me that it wasn’t the fire department who put the fire out?”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Are you sticking to your story that it was a bunch’a flying sharks who sprayed water from their mouths like giant hoses?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Did any of these other people see these sharks?”
“I’m only telling you what I saw.”
“Thanks for the information.”
“You’re welcome, Lieutenant.”
For Lieutenant and others, some stories just didn’t seem true. Who were these sharks? Where did they come from? Like Reverend Warren asked, “How can they live outside of water?”
A caravan of ambulances were lined up and down Santa Monica Boulevard. The harm Reverend Warren and his followers planned to bring to the Club Sidelines crowd, had to be reversed and brought straight down on them. Karma made them pay a serious price.
Lieutenant Franklin searched further for answers. He approached Lieutenant Mark Sellers, a detective also with the West Hollywood Sheriff’s Station. “Sellers, you find out anything important?”
“The gay-hating preacher over there,” Lieutenant Sellers identified, pointing over to the side of the ambulance. “He claims that a whole lot of sharks flew down out of the sky and attacked him and his church followers.”
“Ironically, the bouncer working the front door told me the same story. What about all these other people out here?”
“Their story is that it all happened so fast.”
“Did the gay-bashing preacher say that the sharks are the ones who put out the fire to the nightclub?”
“He sure did.”
“Did you get a chance to talk to the fire department?”
“The fire captain said that the fire was already out by the time they arrived over here on Santa Monica. Lieutenant Franklin, I think you’d hear the story of your life after listening to the preacher. The man might be too far gone with religion.”
“Find out anything else?”
“His name is the Reverend Wesley David Warren from Knoxville, Tennessee. CNN, ABC, CBS, NBC and Sixty Minutes, they all did stories about him being a fiery-tempered preacher who leads anti-gay demonstrations all over the country. He and some of his followers are the ones who set the nightclub on fire.”
“Yeah, the bouncer told me. Did he travel all the way from Knoxville to Los Angeles?”
Lieutenant Franklin had his own suspicions about the flying sharks.
“Using both of those white buses, he and his church members drove halfway around the country. They’d heard about the upcoming celebration for the overturn of Proposition Ten.”
“It’s obvious that they knew thousands of gay people would be in attendance at this particular nightclub.”
“Someone might’ve tipped them off.”
“The world’s getting crazier by the day.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Weird stories are popping up everywhere,” Lieutenant Franklin substantiated, combing through his thick mustache with his fingers. “It wasn’t too long ago that a group of sicko perverts claim that a whole lotta man-sized rats attacked them inside a condominium in New York City.”
“Weren’t they the guys who were going to gang-rape that ten year old Russian immigrant girl?”
“I see you read the report on the national criminal database. Then, a group of rednecks right outside of Dallas claim that a buncha fire ants the size of Dallas Cowboys Football players attacked them.”
“The ones who were going to hang the black man?”
“Right again, Lieutenant Sellers. The insaneness doesn’t stop there. These gang members in Miami claim that they were attacked by a giant swarm of killer bees that were the size of Miami Dolphins football players.”
“The ones who were going to rob the blind man?”
“Once again, you’re correct, Lieutenant Sellers. Now, we’ve got a homosexual-hating Southern preacher who claims that him and his religious fanatics were attacked by giant flying sharks. What’s extreme about all this, is how all of them claim that the rats and ants and bees and sharks could speak English just as good as any person. How can sharks fly and live outside of water? I know that that is beyond me.”
“Beyond the both of us.”
“I’ll have a word with this reverend before they carry him away in the ambulance.”
Lieutenant Franklin took a strong swallow as he stepped to the back of the ambulance due to carry away Reverend Warren. “Sir, are you the Reverend Wesley David Warren?”
“That I am,” Reverend Warren screeched, still feeling pain from the shark attacks. “Who might you be?”
“Sir, I’m Lieutenant Theodore Franklin from the West Hollywood Sheriff’s Station. Is it true that you and your followers tried to burn down Club Sidelines?”
“Sure as I’m laid out on this stretcher,” Reverend Warren honestly admitted. “Those gay-homosexual sinners in there should’ve burned here on Earth, and then burned again in the eternal fires of hell.”
“But you can’t take the law into your own hands.”
“God’s law or man’s law?”
“Neither, sir.”
“I’m exercising my rights.”
Well, how tough Reverend Warren talked while he felt the pain from his own transgressions.
When did God turn over the power to kill another human being to him?
“You don’t have the right to try and burn up a lot of innocent people. Whether they’re gay or straight, they’re black or white, be they rich or poor, religious or non-religious, foreign or domestic, you don’t have the right to kill people just because of their sexual-orientation.”
“Like hell I don’t!”
“Reverend Warren, you’re facing multiple counts of voluntary manslaughter. Had any of those people got burned up, you and your followers would’ve been facing capital punishment.”
“Those homosexuals should’ve burned to a crisp. Their corpses should’ve turned to ashes like Lot’s wife in The Bible.”
“Why are you so mean-spirited?”
“Because all homosexuals should be wiped off the face of the Earth. They have brought down the wrath of God, and the United States will be judged, and this country will be punished by natural disasters and incureable diseases.”
“Reverend, how’d you find out about the celebration of Proposition Ten here at Club Sidelines?”
“Saw it on a cable television station.”
“And you drove all the way from Knoxville?”
“Sure in hell’s did.”
Lieutenant Franklin looked up in the dark skies and shook his head. “Reverend, were you and your church people attacked by flying sharks?”
“Just as sure as I’m laying here talking to you.”
“The sharks, what exactly did they do to you all?”
“My God, it’s what they did to that building and then did to us. These sharks shot gallons and gallons of water all around the building until the fire was gone. One of them in particular, it had a bright blue glow all around its body. That’s the one that flew down and scraped me with those butcher knife sharp teeth. Next thing I knew, the shark was talking to me.”
“What did it say?”
“How it was sent by its master to plague me and my people.”
“Did the shark say who its master was?”
“Wouldn’t tell me that much.”
“Why would the shark’s master be sent to plague you and your people?”
“Can’t tell you that, Lieutenant.”
The EMTs had done their job at the scene. Reverend Warren and his followers were now headed to a local hospital for further medical care. Lieutenant Franklin couldn’t wait to relay the story he’d been told to the District Attorney’s Office.


CHAPTER—26

LIGHTS! CAMERAS! ACCIDENTS ON THE SET!

How proud it must’ve been for the parents of Taylor Warrwick after he received his graduate diploma from NYU’s prestigious Tisch School of the Arts in filmmaking. His master of fine arts degree paved the way for a very lucrative film career. Taylor packed up his bags and left New York for Los Angeles, the moviemaking capital of the world. He’d left behind old dreams and conjured up new ones after he got to the “City of Angels”.
On the set of his first low budget film, “Fallen Blue Warrior”, he met a young beautiful actress who’d been given the stage name Laurie Lockhart. Laurie was born with moviestar good looks. She had a full head of wavy brunette hair and café ole skin which gained her favor in casting circles. With Taylor rising among the ranks of award-winning directors, he used his Tinsel Town power to draw Laurie closer within his own circle.
After a six month courtship, he asked her to marry him when the couple vacationed in Hawaii. Knowing that Taylor had a bright future as a movie director, she conservatively accepted his proposal. Six years after marriage, they became the proud parents of two daughters, Brittney and Barbara Warrwick. Being the force behind two Hollywood blockbusters, he was now ready to take on the biggest challenge of his filmmaking career.
The new movie he’d embarked upon was entitled: “Five Iron Men”. It was a crime thriller set in the middle nineteen nineties. The story was based on five mobsters from the four Midwestern cities of Chicago, Cleveland, Kansas City, and Milwaukee who were determined to rebuild a criminal dynasty. Taylor read the runaway New York Times Bestseller and just fell in love with it. The author collaborated with a scriptwriter, and in one year flat, the studios greenlighted the project. Taylor loved gangster stories and felt honored to be hired as the director.
Halfway through shooting the movie, they’d come to a scene which involved the car bombing of a mischevious real estate mogul. The location was in a gated neighborhood of Beverly Hills. The film crew were in place with their equipment. The hairdresser and make-up artists were busy creating the look Taylor wanted for his actors. The costume designer and her assistant worked tiredly to fit the garments on large and small people. The cinematographer, director of photography, and camera operators waited for instructions from Taylor.
He pointed in every direction around an exclusive Beverly Hills mansion to show his director of photography how the scene was to be shot. “Here’s how we should approach this scene. What I want is the perfect aperture, filter, and lighting when the car explodes. Can you picture it that way?”
“We should get the desired effect once the car explodes,” the D.O.P. relayed to his boss.
“I agree.”
The second camera operator listened to Taylor’s concise directions. “I want this scene captured in the most meticulous way. Have your cameras set for every angle of the explosion.”
“Every angle should come in with a perfect focus.”
The most important people involved with this particular scene were the pyrotechnics team. They were set to place all the needed materials inside the polished black Mercedes-Benz.
Taylor stood by the Mercedes with the head of the pyrotechnics team. “Is our stuntman prepared for the car explosion?”
“Yes, he is.”
“Dressed with the proper clothing to protect him from any burns?”
“Proper as can be.”
“Have the glass windows been replaced with the candy glass?”
“Replaced and ready for the scene.”
“Engine removed and replaced with explosives?”
“Already in place.”
“Fireball mixture ready to go?”
“Ready to go.”
The pyrotechnics leader fed Taylor all the information he wanted to hear. The time had come to shoot the actual car bombing. The actor hired to play the real estate mogul was instructed to walk out of the house.
“Action!” Taylor shouted through a small megaphone.
The actor came out of the house and walked towards the car. Using trick camera angles and special effects, the actor climbed inside the Mercedes and was quickly replaced on the driver’s side by the stuntman.
The stuntman turned the key to the ignition and the car exploded. The car jumped at least a foot off the ground. The combined mixture of high viscosity of motor oil and diesel oil created huge clouds of black smoke. The plastic explosives near the hinges of the doors had blown the hood and trunk and doors clean off. The explosive pod placed between the steel plate arranged for the car parts to be blown upward.
Strong winds coming off the Pacific Ocean blew around the movie set. Taylor and the film crew thought another major earthquake had hit Los Angeles since the ground under them shook with ultimate force. Ocean water of the saltiest form spilled down Taylor and the others. They looked up in the sky and a school of sharks flew from above. The golden sun and scattered clouds no longer dominated the L.A. skies.
Commodore Mowab and his legion of loyal sharks made their presence known. The entire film crew ran up and down the street inside the gated Beverly Hills community. Desperately, they tried avoiding any attacks. Two shovelhead sharks swooped down and landed blows to the head of a cameraman. A number of angel sharks slapped the crew of make-up artists and hairdressers with their flexible fins.
A team of saw sharks surrounded members of the construction and location crews. They took small bites into their arms and legs. Two sand-tiger sharks swung their fins at the knees of the cinematographer and director of photographer. They leveled them right on their backsides. The sharks shot ocean water out their mouths and completely drenched them.
The sharp teeth went scraping across their faces. Taylor ducked behind one of the film crew trucks. Commodore Mowab, the great white shark who was the largest of them all, pushed the truck until it turned over. The bright fluorescent blue from his body almost blinded Taylor.
“Where’d you come from?” Taylor asked the commodore, scared out of his mind.
“I have been sent by my master,” Commodore Mowab revealed to Taylor, widening his mouth to show the ridges of his large pointed teeth.
“Who’s your master?”
“Taylor, you know my master very well. He’s a part of your past.”
“How do you know my name?” he inquired, shakes going all through him.
“My master has told me all about you.”
“You said that he was a part of my past. How is that so?”
“My master has sent me to be a plague on you.”
“A plague?”
“Yes, a plague that will have you crawling to him on your hands and knees to beg for his forgiveness.”
“Why do I have to ask your master for forgiveness?”
“Taylor, you lost your standards of morality a long time ago.”
“That’s not true at all. I’m a morally-correct man.”
“Your disobedience has caused you to be plagued.”
“This can’t be happening to me. This is one of my worst nightmares.”
“You’re wide awake.”
“But sharks don’t fly on dry land and they don’t talk like humans.”
“This shark does.”
“I hate sharks!” Taylor gurgitated. “Sharks give me the creeps! Your slippery-slimery skin makes me sick to my stomach.”
“Taylor, you and I are going to get acquainted very well with one another.”
“Just go and leave me alone.”
Commodore Mowab lifted Taylor off the ground with his powerful fins. He spread his mouth and growled at him with rows of razor-sharp teeth. The commodore flew high through the sky with him wedged between his fins. He dropped him to the ground. Taylor landed right on his stomach. None of his bones were broken. Swiftly flying towards him, Commodore Mowab clenched a mouthful of Taylor’s pants. Painfully, he sunk those rows of needle-sharp teeth deep into his backside.
The school of other sharks gushed out gallons of water to extinguish the flames around the burning car. The entire film crew had dispersed from the set and left Taylor lying on his stomach with a badly bruised backside. Commodore Mowab felt Taylor had had enough. He and his school faded away into the clear skies. Taylor still wished he knew who Commodore Mowab’s master was.


CHAPTER—27

SINCERITY IN SIN CITY

Too bad members of what Stuart dubbed as the egomaniacal eight underestimated his powers. Too bad they didn’t believe him when he said how their heartless prank on him at the impoverished South Bronx motel would come back to bite them in the backside. Literally, he meant just that. Las Vegas would be the next city he’d skip over to. Bright lights, the big city, pretty women, fast cars, big cashflow, they were surely the epitome of Las Vegas high living.
The drive from Los Angeles to Las Vegas was expeditious and relaxing. Stuart decided to go with the hallmarks of contentment and opulence the Bellagio luxury hotel and casino had to offer. Feeling like a king on his throne, he almost got the wind knocked out of him when he stepped inside the lobby of the AAA Five Diamond Award-winning Las Vegas hotel. He opened the doors to his rented expansive penthouse suite and his heart pounded against his chest.
Rich Jewish guys like him could afford such privileges that the Duffelmeyer wealth bolstered. Why not be good to yourself? Those were his exact sentiments. You only lived once and the world had so much to offer. The penthouse suite he’d pumped out big dollars for covered a total of two-thousand square feet of space. The two bedroom suite connected to a tower deluxe guestroom for an additional bedroom.
Stuart looked around and felt like he’d died and found Heaven on Earth. He stepped into the master bedroom and toyed around with the climate control buttons. How nice it would’ve been for him to share the open living and dining areas with someone of the opposite sex. The bathroom sent icy vibrations up his spine. There were his and hers baths equipped with steam showers, soaking whirlpool tubs, deluxe spa products, robes and slippers, illuminated makeup and shaving mirrors, and a wet bar with a refrigerator.
The Bellagio-themed art décor aroused his taste for fine culture. Stuart looked out the windows and witnessed the most alluring scene in all of Las Vegas. Nighttime had arrived and the strip was lit up with the most panoramic view. The penthouse suite made him feel more than at home. Refined indulgences gave him a sense of having arrived. Up and down the busy strip went cars and tourists.
Stuart hesitated not one bit of taking advantage of the superior amenities afforded to him by the penthouse suite. For him, it was like being on top of the world. He dove into the whirlpool tub and soaked with a lavender and peach bubble bath. How relaxing it was to forget about all his troubles. He nursed a lime soda while slipping into his own never-never world. A staggering transformation had taken place with Stuart. Gone were the thick, coke bottle glasses. Gone were the nerdy clothing and goofy hairstyle. Gone was the awkward demeanor which turned women away.
Stuart took on a new look that was absolutely irresistible. He looked good. He smelled good. He felt good. Not only was he in the “Entertainment Capital of the World”, but he was also in the “City of Sin”. Why not dress up and treat yourself to the finer things in life?
Inside the Bellagio Hotel’s Le Cirque French Restaurant, Stuart had been seated in a dining section with plush Italian sofas. He sipped on a tall glass of chilled wine while he waited for his meal. The young Jewish man came to Las Vegas to not only settle some unfinished business, but to basically spoil himself. Stuart believed that once you were dead, you weren’t coming back no more. But Rabbi Wedemeyer proved you could come back in the spiritual form.
On one of their slower nights, Le Cirque Restaurant had only a few customers dining there. Halfway across the restaurant, a beautiful woman with long flowing black hair and café ole skin, kept giving Stuart the eye. Far from looking like one of those high-priced Vegas women, she smiled at him with perfect straight white teeth. Stuart smiled right back. Surprisingly, she also occupied a table by herself. Who would make the first move?
Stuart mustered up enough courage to wave at her. She waved back with a feministic hand gesture. Taking his courage to another level, he signaled for her to come over to his table. He abruptly shed the shyness he’d experienced all through high school and college. A new image and demeanor he’d taken on. She stood up and the designer red dress she wore hugged every toned curve she had.
The strange woman stepped up to the table and said, “I’d like to know, why is a handsome fella like yourself sitting here all by yourself?”
“Gosh!” Stuart loosened up, hooked right in by her stunning beauty. “I was going to leave my table and come over to ask you the exact same thing.”
“Mind if I have a seat?”
“No, no, no,” Stuart accepted, jumping up and pulling her chair out.
She looked him up and down with a warm smile. “Your wife or girlfriend won’t mind, will she?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you the same question?”
“What?”
“About your husband or boyfriend.”
“Don’t have neither one of them.”
Stuart extended his hand across the table. “By the way, I’m Stuart Duffelmeyer.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” she obliged, flirtatiously caressing his hand. “I’m Laura Rivenburg.”
“Rivenburg’s your last name?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Maiden or married name?”
“Maiden, since I’ve never been married.”
“You Jewish?”
“Full-blooded, all day long, twenty-four/seven.”
“So am I.”
“Duffelmeyer is Jewish, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“So, where are you from?”
“New York.”
“What part?”
“Staten Island. And yourself?”
“I’m from New Brunswick, New Jersey.”
“You’re kidding!” Stuart laughed, loosening up even more. “What brings you to Las Vegas?”
“Convention relating to my job.”
“Yeah, Las Vegas is a big convention town.”
“And you?”
“Rest and relaxation, take care of some business, I guess.”
“Not to pry or anything, what do you do?”
“Well, I own and operate several pet shops and veterinarian clinics.”
“Cool!” Laura cheered, taking an instant liking to Stuart. “Are you an animal doctor or something?”
“Yes, I have a doctorate in veterinary medicine from NYU.”
“So, I take it that you love animals?”
“Love them to death. Love nature to death.”
Laura wiggled her nose side-to-side. “What type of cologne are you wearing?”
“Yet another designer cologne by Ralph Lauren.”
“His line of colognes are the best.”
Stuart and Laura took a moment to stare into one another’s eyes. The attraction was intense. She found him handsome and he found her beautiful. Both were cultured individuals with exercised etiquette. Had Stuart found the true love of his life? Had Laura found the man of her dreams? Only time could unveil such a complex question.
“I’m curious, Laura. Why is such a beautiful and smart woman like yourself still single?”
“The nice guys are all taken.”
“Guess I can say the same for women. Nice people period are hard to come by, nowadays.”
“Wonder if we’ve both been looking in the wrong places?”
“No one should ever go looking. Because when you go looking, that’s when you’ll never find true love.”
“My parents told me the same thing.”
The attraction between Stuart and Laura escalated.
“How long are you going to be in Las Vegas?”
“Until the weekend.”
“Yourself?”
“Until, whenever.”
How could Stuart ever tell Laura that was thirty-one years of age and was still a virgin?
“Question, Laura.”
“Yeah.”
“How many boyfriends have you had in your life?”
“Just two.”
“Why’d you guys break up?”
“They kept wanting sex. I made a promise to myself that I wasn’t breaking my virginity until I was either married or to a man that I knew just wasn’t out for sex.”
A gleam coated Stuart’s eyes. How astounding it was to meet a beautiful woman who safeguarded her virginity. It appeared they had so much in common. Executive Chef Pierre Laroque approached Stuart’s table with a classic French dish of roasted lemon rosemary chicken with a side order of spinach soufflé. For desert, it was chocolate pistachio ice cream and butter lemon cake. The aroma crept up Stuart’s nostrils and created a turbulence in his stomach. Boy was he ready to eat!
“Would you like anything to eat on the menu?” Stuart offered to Laura, flapping out the thick white napkin.
“Well-----,” Laura hesitated, the menu looking quite delightful.
“My treat.”
“Sure, if you don’t mind,” she accepted. “I’ll have the smoke salmon and dill crepes. And for desert, I’ll have the chocolate mousse pie.”
Chef Laroque took their menus and went back into the kitchen to get the other chefs started on Laura’s meal.
“Nice of you to pay for my meal.”
“Well, a nice meal goes perfect with a nice woman.”
Laura blushed and cut a smile at Stuart. “How nice of you.”
Minutes would pass before Laura received her meal. Stuart retreated to silence while he went to work on the chicken and spinach.
He looked down at his watch and jerked his head back. “My, how time just creeps away from you.”
“Do you have somewhere to be?” Laura asked, halfway through her meal.
“Actually, I have a big appointment early in the morning.”
“My cell phone number, I can give you that,” she volunteered, sending Stuart open signals.
“Great!”
Laura reached into her purse and fished out a pen and small white paper. She wrote down her number and placed it firmly in Stuart’s palm. He rushed out of the restaurant as though a true emergency awaited him.


CHAPTER—28

DEEP IN THE DESERT

A hot baking sun dominated the vast Nevada skies. Temperatures rose to a sweltering 115 degrees Fahrenheit the further Stuart drove towards Southern Nevada. The Mohave Desert was his destination. Stuart cruised at seventy-five miles per hour down Highway U.S. Ninety-Five. The further he approached Southern Nevada, the more stretch of barren desert became visible. He traveled slightly over two-hundred miles outside Las Vegas into a town known as Goldfield.
The town was filled with history from the old gold mining days. The grand old buildings of yesteryear were a sight to behold. In the old, small populated Nevada town, there was a gas station, grocery and convenience stores, an antique store, a saddle shop, and bars. From 1903 to 1940, Goldfield’s mines produced more than 86 million dollars in pure gold. Would’ve been nice if the Duffelmeyer family could’ve cashed in on some of the good fortune.
Esmeralda County lay claim to nothing but partial abandonment and desert surroundings. One landmark in particular which caught the attention of Stuart was The Goldfield Hotel. He parked the car and took a moment to study the architecture of the building. Having been used to the architectural designs of buildings in New York City and other cities, the stone and brick structure seemed to have withstood the harsh elements of the desert.
A creepy, yet adventurous feeling came over him. He stepped up to the front door and knocked. As far he knew, the hotel was still operational, even during the Twenty-First Century, given how it was built in 1908.
“Hello,” Stuart chimed, the door sliding open on its own.
No one answered him. He walked further into the lobby section.
“Hello, is anybody here?” he asked again, dust from the desert winds blowing around his face.
Stuart looked around and noticed how the lobby had been paneled with mahogany and furnished in black leather upholstery. Hanging just beneath the gold-leaf ceilings were glistening crystal chandeliers trimmed in pure gold. Voices, some high and others low, came from out of nowhere. A piano played a tune from the old Western days. Appearing on a stage which popped up out of nowhere, were a chorus of women in long red and blue dresses.
Gunslinging cowboys appeared at round wooden tables wearing boots with solid gold spurs. The guns resting inside their holsters were crafted from gold. A group of the cowboys reached into a cigar box made out of shiny gold. The dancers on stage wore necklaces and rings also made out of pure gold. The precious metal known as gold was everywhere. What Stuart witnessed were a bunch of men and women from the spiritual world who hadn’t quite left the Earth. While still in the flesh, they were a part of society’s upper crust.
The ghostly figure of a businessman cowboy, a man with a bushy black mustache who towered over Stuart, smiled down on him and said, “Son, this town was all about gold. If you had the gold, you had the goods and the girls.”
The cowboy and the others disappeared right before Stuart’s eyes. Constantly, he’d been reminded that having supernatural powers from the Universe, he saw spirits from the otherworld and from yesteryear. He climbed back inside the rent-a-car and continued his journey further into the Mohave desert. The brutal summer sun still dominated the Nevada skies. Stuart stopped and parked the car in the middle of nowhere. He stepped out and no longer felt the cool relief from the car’s air conditioner.
The temperature extremes of the Mohave Desert showed no mercy. The stinging of the sun’s rays were casted down on his skin. Large beads of sweat popped out of his pores. His face got drenched in less than a minute. For such an affront, he brought out a big cooler from the backseat. The cooler was filled with frosty plastic bottles of water. High humidity, high temperatures, and little winds, they were the harsh elements he faced.
Stuart pulled the magical talisman from under the thin white cotton shirt. Concentrating under the sweltering hot sun, he ran the tips of his fingers along the highly-consecrated Hebrew letters. The cat claw trees and snake weeds and golden bushes all shook. The scorching sun was masked by a thick cluster of black clouds.
The once fiery temperatures cooled down to more comfortable degrees. High winds from out of the Pacific Northwest blew into the Mohave Desert. The skies parted and cosmic powers from the Universe were released. Pressure from beneath the desert’s surface sent earthquake-like tremors throughout the land. Forces energized by the Universe lifted Stuart off the ground. Dust and powerful desert winds surrounded him. Underneath a Creosote Bush were a big nest of western diamondback rattlesnakes. Crawling into the burrows of mice for a quick meal were more rattlesnakes. A crater about half-deep as the gorges in the Grand Canyon was formed right there in the Mohave Desert. Every western diamondback rattlesnake within a fifty mile proximity were sucked deep within the confines of this crater. A shield of cosmic energy covered the opening.
Stuart looked into the deep dark menacing eyes of the biggest rattlesnake inside the crater. The snake opened its mouth and displayed a pair of atrocious fangs. The scales on its skin changed from light brown to dark gray. The snake’s heat sensing pits picked up the human scent wavering off the body of Stuart. Its distinguishing rattler shook with jurisdiction. Stuart and the western diamondback rattlesnake studied one another closely.
The snake used its vertically elliptical pupils to stare fiercely into the eyes of Stuart. In return, Stuart felt no intimidation while trying to glance around the circumference of the pitch black pupils. Both of the snake’s eyes looked like flaming black marbles. Its eyes worked in conjunction with its pits to determine the position and range and distance of Stuart’s body. The large snake whipped out its tongue and shook its rattler. The lines of communication between Stuart and the serpent had opened up. They transmitted telepathic messages back and forth to one another.
Like the ritualistic consecration of the other creatures, Stuart inducted the lead rattlesnake and his nest into his sensationalistic family.
Stuart stepped forward to place his hands at the center of the spade-shaped head of the now humongous rattlesnake. “From this day forward, you have been ordained as King Saraph. The name Saraph comes from the Hebrew word meaning ‘Serpent’.
King Saraph joined the ranks of the other Universally-charged creatures.


CHAPTER—29

BATTLE OF THE RATTLE TATTLE

Las Vegas was the place for fresh residents to find gainful employment. Abdullah Tariq Muhammad learned quickly how his electrical and computer engineering degree from NYU provided him the leisure to move to the “City of Sin”. Once he received his graduate degree from NYU’s Polytechnic Institute, he decided to head out west to Las Vegas where gambling casinos and hotels were always hiring people in that particular field.
The Nigerian native met a former Las Vegas showgirl named Tammy Froelich inside one of the most popular hotel casinos on the strip. Her strawberry blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, not to mention a body sculptured like a Greek goddess, sent his heart into overdrive. The pair obtained an instant attraction for one another. His glowing Hershey chocolate skin and pearly white teeth caught her immediate attention.
Her well-defined Eurocentric features took him straight to fantasyland. The couple got married after Abdullah took Tammy on a trip to his homeland of Nigeria and other parts of Africa. Oddly enough, Abdullah proposed to her at The Serengeti National Park in north-central Tanzania. She burst out in tears after he’d released his secret plans. They married at The Elvis Wedding Chapel and flew in guests from out of town to be a part of the reception.
Five years into their marriage, the couple were blessed with three children, four year old David Muhammad, three year old Abdullah Muhammad, Jr., and eleven month old Christine Muhammad. With a sexy wife, beautiful and healthy children, a promising career with outstanding benefits, Abdullah couldn’t ask for more. The final pieces to the puzzle were put in place.
Abdullah couldn’t’ve been happier with his job at the Computer Gaming Laboratories, Incorporated there in Las Vegas. As a test engineer expert, he spent most of his day testing gaming devices and online systems like slot machines, video poker machines, Keno, Bingo and lottery systems. He analyzed the hardware and software of gaming systems used around the world.
The program languages were no challenge for him. The man had intelligence beyond his years. His familiarity with microprocessors were second nature. His proficiency with Windows and UNIX amazed his computer literate contemporaries. Abdullah was a true asset to Computer Gaming Laboratories. Machines operated back and forth inside the busy laboratory. Having the vast knowledge he’d gained through college and the on-jobsite experience, someone always came to Abdullah for answers.
“Abdullah,” called out his fellow employee named Peter Barksley.
“Peter, what can I do for you?” asked Abdullah, speaking with his heavy Nigerian accent.
“I’m trying to use the Crystal Report in Net Windows Application with respect to Oracle and parametrized queries.”
“First of all, you have to create a project in the Microsoft Visual Studio and give it a name under the Crystal Report.”
“How do I do that?”
Peter was still relatively new at Computer Gaming Laboratories. Abdullah didn’t mind helping him. “From available data sources, you have to choose the OLEDB. Then, you have to select the Oracle Provider for the OLEDB.”
“You know your stuff, Abdullah.”
“Next step, you have to provide the necessary information for database login per your Oracle configurations.”
“What information?”
“Data source, user id, and password.”
“I don’t have neither of them.”
Abdullah put in all three requirements and moved to the next step. “Once you have the data source, you’ll have to add a management view. An empty data set has to be added to your project.”
Class files from the DL applications caused a database connectivity. Connection strings operated as a result of the Oracle configuration. The DL applications displayed the required parameters of the newly-generated reports.
“Wow!” Peter applauded. “You’re the best, Abdullah.”
“Well, I try to always give it my best.”
“And your best you’ve given.”
“Where’d you go to school at?”
“Polytechnic Institute at NYU.”
“They sure taught you well.”
“Thank you, Peter.”
Peter glanced down at his watch and the time sort of surprised him. “Oh look, Abdullah, it’s lunchtime. Care to join me for a bite to eat?”
“No, I’ve got lots of work to do.”
“Okay, I’ll see ya in about an hour.”
“See you then, Peter.”
Abdullah scanned the laboratory and no one occupied a single space in there. Growing up with integrity, capacity, ability, and authority, he believed in exercising his work ethics when others wanted to take lunch and breaks. His imagination and creativity became the driving force behind him being a valued employee at Computer Gaming Laboratories. Clients and customers always came first. That was the company’s mantra. Hotel casinos throughout Las Vegas hungered to provide future innovation for their thriving businesses, courtesy, of course, through Abdullah and his colleagues.
Abdullah worked with diligence on a futuristic poker machine. Not seeming to know where they came from, small wormy creatures squirmed out of the machine and onto the floor. More of the creatures wiggled from out of the cracks of the gaming machines and computerized equipment. Before Abdullah’s very eyes, the small, worm-like figures grew into giant western diamondback rattlesnakes. The entire gaming laboratory became filled with snakes much larger than Abdullah himself. Since he’d developed a stomach-churning phobia for rattlesnakes, his worst nightmare played out before him.
“Noooooooooo!” Abdullah cried out, grabbing hold to a cord to one of the gaming machines.
King Saraph appeared before Abdullah with his large fangs burning with grayish flames. The King’s rattler swung side-to-side with a fluorescent gray. His flaming black eyes gave off a shine which was compared with a polished mirror.
“Snakes!” Abdullah yelled, wanting to use the cord as his weapon. “I hate rattlesnakes!”
“Don’t be afraid, Abdullah,” King Saraph teased. “You’re only going to get what’s coming to you.”
“Coming to me? Whaddaya mean?”
“Abdullah, I have been sent by my master.”
“Who’s your master?”
“You know my master very well.”
“Where do I know him from?”
“From several years ago.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“My master has sent me to plague you.”
“Plague me? For what reason?”
“For your evil transgressions against him.”
“Transgressions about what?”
“My, you have a short memory, Abdullah.”
Abdullah pointed all around the laboratory. “But snakes aren’t supposed to grow to those giant sizes.”
“Powers granted to my master have ordained me and my nest to grow to these giant sizes.”
“But snakes also aren’t supposed to talk. How are you able to speak plain English?”
“Divine powers granted to my master.”
“At first, you big snakes started out like little worms. How’d you grow to be so big in a matter of seconds?”
“That you don’t need to know. The Universe will keep such secrets from you.”
Abdullah snatched the power cord out of the gaming machine. He swung it wildly at King Saraph. The cord went right through him like an invisible gust of air. Magically, the cord held in Abdullah’s tight grip turned into a dark brown western diamondback rattlesnake. Abdullah dropped it to the ground and ran behind a cluster of machines. The ground under the machines shook. A superordinary transformation of machine-to-rattlesnake took place. He watched the machines turn into serpents before his very eyes.
“Please, please, leave me alone!” Abdullah pleaded, running to every corner in the laboratory.
“No, Abdullah, we can’t leave you alone,” King Saraph declined, using his magical serpent’s body to fly through the air.
“What have I done for you to plague me like this?”
“Trespassing against my master, Abdullah.”
“Don’t do this to me.”
“You will come crawling on your hands and knees to beg for my master’s forgiveness.”
“Bring your master to me and I’ll apologize.”
“In due time, Abdullah, in due time.”
King Saraph used his masterful rattler to strike a blow to the side of Abdullah’s head. Lying flat on the ground with his head tilted upwards, Abdullah watched King Saraph hiss with his dagger-like fangs. The king’s pit vipers concentrated on his superimposed visual and thermal images. The vertically elliptical pupils in his eyes frightened Abdullah into submission.
He swung at the king and hit nothing but air. He picked up computer gaming parts and threw them at him. Efforts to hurt the huge serpent were useless. The attempts angered him further. King Saraph dove down at Abdullah and popped him in the middle of his face with his aggressive rattler. Knocked flat to the ground, members of the nest restrained him. The knife-like fangs sunk deep into Abdullah’s backside like hypodermic needles. Severe swelling had him feeling like he’d been given an extra backside.
The king knew to spare the lives of those he’d been instructed to plague. Easily, he could’ve released the hemotoxic venom that were packed inside his fangs. The venom could’ve easily weakened his victim to the point of a slow death. Members of the nest slithered around Abdullah and penetrated the flesh of his arms and legs and chest with the orifices of their fangs. There were snakes bites up and down his body. King Saraph slapped him a few more times with his rattler and stood him up against one of the gaming machines.
“Ahhhhhhhh!” Abdullah screamed in pain, running while grabbing his smoky backside with both hands. “I’ve been bit in my backside!”
King Saraph hissed at Abdullah. “I promise you, Abdullah, you’ll apologize to my master.”
“Why won’t you tell me who your master is?”
“In due time, Abdullah, in due time.”
The King and the nest rose to the top of the laboratory ceiling. They disappeared into thin air. As for Abdullah, he had a lot of explaining to do to his colleagues and family.


CHAPTER—30

SHARING THE NIGHT TOGETHER

Love is where you find it. Love comes when you’re ready for it. Love is a many splendor thing. For Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer, love blossomed at a rate he could’ve never imagined. Stuart decided to meet with the lovely Laura Rivenburg inside his penthouse suite at the Bellagio Hotel Casino back in Las Vegas. To flaunt some of the Duffelmeyer wealth, he purchased a hand-crafted silk suit from one of the finer men’s clothing stores.
A silk tie and perfect fitted shirt complimented the double-breasted suit. To prove he wasn’t stingy, Stuart took Laura to Nieman Marcus and gave her the liberty of picking out any dress and pair of shoes that she wanted. He learned early on life how anything good wasn’t cheap, and how anything cheap wasn’t good. You got what you paid for. Women were no different. Laura was a classy, cultured woman who required the finer things in life.
Far from being a materialistic, money-grubbing woman, she also appreciated the simple life which was ingrained in her Jewish cultural upbringing. Instead of eating out, the couple ordered entrée dishes from Picasso’s, one of the top restaurants from right there inside The Bellagio. Chef Juan Barcello did the honors of bringing their meals up to the penthouse suite. Stuart, being the generous soul he was, tipped Chef Barcello with a crispy one-hundred dollar bill. Chilled red Italian wine fresh from the vineyards of Italy was their perfect choice.
“Yes!” Stuart applauded, lifting the metal lid from off his meal. “This looks and smells absolutely delicious.”
His eyes watered as he looked down at the roasted lamb chops with zucchini farci seasoned with Bordelaise mustard sauce.
“Yes is right, Stuart!” Laura hailed, the aroma jetstreaming up her nostrils. “My tastebuds are hopping up and down on my tongue.”
Her mouth went into overdrive. She admired the sautéed steak of Foie Gras with rhubarb and roasted pistachio.
Romance and fine dining dominated the atmosphere. The panoramic view of the Las Vegas Strip from their huge picture windows was astonishing. Scented candles and potpourri fragrances gave the suite an alluring smell. Stuart wanted to make use of his suite’s amenities by turning on the sixty inch LCD flatscreen television with HDTV. The movie classic, “Jaws”, aired on one of the satellite stations.
“Another Spielberg classic,” Laura said, enjoying her succulent steak.
“I love Steven Spielberg,” Stuart said, taking a small bite of lamb chop.
“Wouldn’t be because he’s one of our Jewish brothers, would it?”
“No, no, the man is gifted way beyond his years. In my opinion, he’s one of the greatest directors to ever hit Hollywood.”
“I agree, Stuart. Unlike other Hollywood directors, his movies are talking about something very significant.”
“Mr. Spielberg’s movies do have something to say.”
“Schindler’s List is my favorite.”
“Mine’s is Raiders of the Lost Ark.”
“The Color Purple comes in at number two.”
“Steven is like my alter ego.”
The movie came to the scene where the shark attacked the woman swimming in the ocean.
Laura sipped down a mouthful of wine and popped her fingers. “Hey, Stuart, since we’re sitting here watching ‘Jaws’, it reminds me of a crazy story that I read about in Los Angeles.”
“Story, Laura? What story?”
“Oddly enough, some Baptist preacher from Knoxville, Tennessee claims that a buncha flying sharks attacked him, then bit him and some of his church members. And get this, Stuart, he claims that these sharks spoke English better than anyone he’s ever known.”
“Sounds like religion got the best of him.”
“An L.A. newspaper said that he was one of those homosexual-hating preachers who protested in front of some gay nightclub on Santa Monica Boulevard. He got all fired up about the overturning of Proposition Ten on same-sex marriages.”
“Yeah, I saw on the news where he and his church members tried to burn the nightclub down with lots of people inside.”
Wasn’t it amazing how news, whether good or bad, traveled pretty fast?
“Then, he went on to say that the big school of sharks put the fire out around the club by shooting out gallons and gallons of water. Tell me, Stuart, could you ever believe something like that?”
“Never in a million years.”
Oh yes, he could! Stuart was the sole beneficiary who stopped the gay patrons from being burned up inside Club Sidelines. Never in his lifetime would he confess to Laura that he possessed supernatural powers ordained by The Ruler of the Universe. Laura lifted the remote and changed the station. The movie “Anaconda” happened to be airing on the sci-fi channel. On the big screen, there was Jennifer Lopez and Ice Cube, trampling through the murky swamp waters.
“Haven’t seen this movie in awhile,” Laura mentioned, finishing up the last of her exquisite meal.
“Anacondas have been known to eat large animals,” Stuart said, taking the last swallow of wine.
“Which reminds me, Stuart. What do you know about rattlesnakes?”
“I know a little bit.”
“They’re not far away in the desert.”
“Somewhere in the Mohave Desert.”
Laura tapped the silvery fork on the side of her plate. “Did you hear about the group of perverts up in New York?”
“No, what perverts?”
“A group of six men tried to gang rape a ten year old Russian immigrant girl. These men said that a lot of man-sized rats burst their door down and beat the crap out of them.”
“Sure, whatever,” Stuart disregarded.
“They, too, said these rats spoke English and confronted them for what they were going to do.”
“If it’s true, then maybe they got what they deserved.”
“These twisted stories are making national headlines.”
“Bet they are.”
“Stuart, you haven’t heard the least of it,” Laura carried on, sort of a true lover of gossip and tabloid. “A buncha rednecks down in Dallas claim that a colony of human-sized fire ants attacked them inside an old airport hangar.”
“Let me guess, these ants beat the daylights out of them, and then they spoke better English than every English professor combined.”
“Correct.”
“Could that be the same story where these racist-rednecks were going to hang a black man inside that old airport hangar?”
“Correct, again.”
“They were nothing but a bunch of Jewish-hating, black-hating, and Gay-hating rednecks. They were the ones who chewed tobacco and guzzled down whiskey all day. They were nothing but a group of illiterate racists who perpetuated nothing but evil and self-hatred.”
“I see you’re passionate about that story,” Laura noticed.
“Sure I am,” Stuart asserted. “My Jewish people, your Jewish people, our Jewish people, they’ve suffered enough behind this Anti-Semitism hatred that’s perpetrated almost around the world. I’m sick of it and it has to stop.”
Both Laura and Stuart understood better than anyone.
“You’re absolutely, one-hundred percent correct, Stuart. Actually, my great-grandparents were Holocaust survivors.”
“So were my grandparents during World War Two. We truly are God’s chosen people.”
“And so it stands.”
“Those rednecks are going to be dealt with.”
Laura just delighted herself in the stories which hit major headlines around the country. “When I read about the gang members in Miami who claimed they were attacked by a hive of giant killer bees, it just tickled every funnybone in my body.”
Stuart thumped the side of his stoneware plate. “Don’t tell me, these huge bees attacked them and left them with sting wounds all over their bodies.”
“Right again,” Laura affirmed. “These stories have made national headlines. Sounds to me that these immoral people were plagued by creatures of this Earth.”
Stuart cut a grin and leaned back. “Plagues sent by those creature’s master.”
“What master?”
“Probably someone who’s dead tired of people violating and mistreating other people.”
“Whoever this master is, he’s to be commended for helping the poor downtrodden souls.”
“The plagues they’ve suffered, they’re the plagues they’ve deserved.”
Laura’s heartfelt statement tingled the emotional vibes inside Stuart. The flatscreen television suddenly went off. Soft music from the surround sound stereo system came on.
“Care to dance?” Stuart asked Laura, extending his hand out to her.
“Sure,” Laura accepted, gesturing at Stuart with feministic vibes.
The couple joined one another in a sensual dance. Stuart held Laura firmly in his embrace. He clapped his hands twice. The room converted to lower lights. The perfect mood was set.
“Did you know that that’s one of my favorite songs?” Laura recollected, the soothing tune taking her into loveland.
“You’re kidding,” Stuart said, his body language guiding him through the song. “My parents have ‘Sharing The Night Together’ by Dr. Hook in their vast music collection.”
“It’s one of those beautiful seventies songs, but it still sounds good to this day.”
Laura pulled Stuart within inches of her svelte body. Her toned curves pressed closer to his slim body.
“Laura, I have a confession,” Stuart grunted, his hormones racing like they’d prepared for the Indianapolis 500.
“What is it, Stuart?” she questioned, hoping it wasn’t some crazy bad news.
“Hope you’re ready for this.”
“My ears are all your’s.”
“I’m still-------.”
“Still what, Stuart?”
He stretched the skin under his neck. He clenched his teeth and bravely said, “Laura, I’m still a virgin.”
“So,” she replied, her mannerism rather calm.
“You’re not shocked or anything?”
“Why would I be? You and I have more in common than just being Jewish. Let’s both look on the bright side. Neither of us have ever had any sexually-transmitted diseases nor a lotta unwanted, illegitimate children running around. There’s something positive to have come out of the both of us being virgins.”
No sexually-transmitted diseases? No unwanted children? Wasn’t life sweet for them both?
How proud Stuart felt to hear Laura express such profound sentiments. Listening to her proclaim positive pointers about their virginity had him feeling like he’d reunited with an old friend.
“How old are you, Stuart?”
“Thirty-one. How old are you?”
“Thirty, close to being thirty-one myself.”
Stuart buried his head inside Laura’s chest. “There’s something else I want to tell you.”
“Go ahead and tell me.”
“I’ve never told anybody this in my whole life.”
“You can tell me.”
Stuart lifted his head and spoke softly into Laura’s ear. “Two weeks before I graduated from NYU, a group of eight of my college classmates pulled a devastating prank on me. These eight pranksters lured me to a rundown motel in the South Bronx where they had everything planned out. When I got inside the room, they supposedly had a gorgeous woman for me under some covers in the bed. The music and psychedelic lights had me thinking that I was going to have a good time. A sexy seductive voice made me believe that these egomaniacal eight were serious about getting me laid right before graduation. Anyway, I went over to the bed and pulled the covers back. Underneath, there was a mechanical sex doll covered in thousands of maggots.”
“Errrrrrrrrh!” Laura abominated. “How disgusting!”
“The lights were turned on and one of the eight dumped more maggots on top of my head. Then, I slipped and fell from this slimy compound another one of my classmates poured on the floor. Those people, they laughed right in my face. They left me in that room crying my eyes right out of the socket.”
Laura turned Stuart’s head to where they looked face-to-face. “Sounds like they played on the fact that you were a guy who wanted to break his virginity before graduating from college. Trust me, all eight of them will pay for what they did to you.”
“They’re already paying for it,” Stuart validated, knowing he possessed powers to make all eight of their lives a living hell.
“How about we both make this night a special one.”
“What’d you have in mind?”
“This’ll be a night to remember. Let’s share this night together.”
“Can both of our virginity’s be broken?”
“Sure, why not?”
Stuart and Laura locked lips for one hot passionate kiss. Soft music continued playing through the surround sound speakers. The lights went even lower. They left the expansive front room of the penthouse suite and ventured off into the deluxe bedroom. Stuart closed the doors so he and Laura could finish out the most important night of their lives.


CHAPTER—31

FROM SOUTHWEST TO MIDWEST

A romantic night spent at The Bellagio Hotel Casino in Las Vegas became the most monumental milestone of Stuart’s life. Losing his virginity to Laura Rivenburg gave him an ego the size of Mount Everest. In the course of their evening’s rendezvous, she also lost her virginity to Stuart. The moon and stars appeared brighter than ever in the nighttime skies. New chapters began in their lives the night they made love.
Stuart exchanged cell phone numbers with Laura. Both promised they’d stay in touch. She’d been given grand assurance that she wasn’t some woman he used at his disposal for a one night stand. Laura returned to New Jersey while Stuart flew halfway around the United States to the windy city of Chicago, Illinois. The late summer weather in Chicago claimed hot temperatures with unmerciful humidity.
Taking up residency inside a royal suite at the Four Seasons Chicago served the temporary needs of Stuart. He didn’t worry about any of the luxury hotels burning a hole in his bank account. The money was there for him to spend. His businesses back in New York did exceptionally well. The Duffelmeyer wealth had him wanting for nothing. After going for a swim in the fifty foot indoor pool, and then spoiling himself with a rubies and Perle de Caviar spa treatment, Stuart returned to his room for a relaxing afternoon.
He looked out the window from the forty-sixth floor of his luxurious royal suite and was fascinated with the breathtaking view of the Chicago skyline. There they were, some of the architectural marvels of the windy city. The Sears Tower, Chicago Board of Trade, AT&T Corporate Center, Kluczynski Federal Center, CNA Plaza, and Chase Tower, they all towered high into the skies. Compared to the giant skyscrapers in Manhattan, Stuart appreciated the beautifully-designed buildings dominating the skyline.
Like the other upscale hotels he’d stayed at in other cities, the Four Seasons provided all the amenities he relished. At his disposal, were a dining room set which seated eight, three full marble bathrooms with deep soaking Jacuzzi tubs, surround sound stereo systems, full kitchen with marble countertops, and a refrigerated private bar. Stuart left thousands of dollars behind in every major city he traveled to. He also left behind the vengeful tactics he sought against the egomaniacal eight.
Upon meeting Laura Rivenburg, not knowing he’d eventually break his virginity, there were unquestionably no regrets. The Chicago skies were sunny and clear. The temperature held steady at one-hundred and five degrees with high humidity. Stuart blasted the central air conditioning in his room to frosty cold temperatures. No way was he going to challenge the sweltering Chicago heat. The cell phone in his black travel bag rung with his favorite ring tone.
“Stuart here,” he answered, looking out the window while admiring the Chicago skyline.
“Son?” replied Harry Duffelmeyer, a crackling in his aged voice.
“Dad?”
“Stuart, where are you, son?”
“I’m here in Chicago, dad.”
“Chicago?” Harry questioned his son, his worrying voice simmering through the phone. “What’re you doing, becoming this traveling from state-to-state, from city-to-city type of guy?”
“No, just taking care of some more business, dad.”
“What’s going on in Chicago?”
Stuart took a second to think of a believable lie. “Well, dad, Chicago’s hosting a big pet symposium all this week.”
“Weren’t you at pet symposiums in other cities?”
“Yes, I was.”
“Weren’t you in Las Vegas before going to Chicago?”
“Yes.”
“Wasn’t it Los Angeles before Las Vegas?”
“Los Angeles it was, dad.”
“Stuart, my son, just be careful traveling to all these big cities around the country.”
“I can handle myself.”
“Remember what your mother and I always told you?”
“Always be aware of your surroundings?”
“Always, son.”
“Crazier things go on in bigger cities.”
“Big or small, crazy people are everywhere.”
“Didn’t you hear about the weird and psychotic crap happening in Los Angeles?”
“What weird and psychotic crap?”
“In Los Angeles, some down home Southern preacher guy, he claims that he and his church members were attacked by bunch of giant sharks flying across dry land. These religious morons claimed that these sharks could talk and dumped gallons of water down onto a burning building that they set fire to.”
Stuart knew exactly what his father was talking about. Again, he was the one who requested powers activated by the Universe to make such an incident happen.
“Dad, crazy stories pop up all the time in the news. People are insane and out of their minds.”
“How’re your pet shops and veterinary clinics doing back in New York?”
“Good, dad, real good.”
“Listen, Stuart, I’d like to ask a big favor of you.”
“Anything for my pops.”
“Can you help manage some property in New York that your mother and I are thinking about purchasing?”
“When things slow down, I’d love to oversee some New York property for you and mom.”
“Sebastian Plettenberg has already agreed to help manage some property we’re looking at in Manhattan and Brooklyn.”
“Great,” Stuart congratulated, still dazing out at the Chicago skyline.
“If I can’t depend on my own son, then I can’t depend on nobody.”
Stuart heard the signal on his cell phone that someone else was trying to call in. “Dad, I’ve got another call. Can I call you later this evening?”
“Sure, son.”
Stuart clicked over and his blood froze from joy. “Laura, is this you?”
“Who else would it be, Stuart?” Laura teased, her voice longing to hear Stuart’s sexy voice.
“Gee, it’s good to hear from you.”
“Our night in your penthouse suite at The Bellagio was one for both of us to remember.”
“Must agree, beautiful.”
“Who were you talking to at the other end?”
“Just my dad. He wanted to talk about me managing some property that he and my mom were thinking about purchasing in New York.”
“Don’t they already own a lotta property?”
“A lot is never enough for them. How was your trip back to Jersey?”
“Safe and sound. When are we going to see one another again?”
“After I leave Chicago, I’ll have a couple’a more places in the states to go to.”
“I forget, you’re the chartered traveling man.”
“Business is business, gorgeous lady. I should be back in New York before you know it. When I do return, you and I are going to have the time of our lives. What’cha say to that, the one most pretty?”
“I’d say superb.”
“Then, so it is. Laura, I’d like to get to know you much better. Hope you don’t think I’m out of my mind for saying this, but I feel a special connection to you. We were together for a short time, but it was long enough for me to see that you’re one very special woman.”
“I feel the same way, too, Stuart.”
Stuart glanced down at his watch. He couldn’t believe how time had slipped away. “Laura, I’d like to talk longer, but I’ve got appointments with some business associates.”
“When you put the brakes on, please give me a call.”
“I will, sweetheart.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
Stuart clicked the off button and slung the cell phone down on the bed. The divine, glowing spiritual figure of Rabbi Irwin Wedemeyer reflected into one of the long dressing mirrors.
“Stuart, my son,” Rabbi Wedemeyer chanted, his ghostly frame filling up most of the mirror.
“Rabbi Wedemeyer?” Stuart spoke with surprise, staring head-on into the bright mirror.
“My beloved son, have you not met one of the most intelligent, one of the prettiest of Jewish girls in all the world?”
“Rabbi Wedemeyer, my heart tells me that I have.”
“Has your life found more fulfillment since meeting her?”
“Would time not be the deciding factor, Rabbi?”
“Time heals all wounds, my son. Time completes every story. Time fulfills every empty heart and desirable dream.”
“For the first time in my life, this woman and I laid together. Not one to purposely fornicate or commit adultery, the emptiness in my heart filled itself after we surrendered our virginity over to one another.”
“But Stuart, my son, you were to never lie with this woman until she became your wife. The One Most High will forgive you of this sin, as he has forgiven you of all your other sins. This woman, Laura Rivenburg, she has the anointing to become a prudent wife for you.”
“Hope I didn’t disappoint you, Rabbi Wedemeyer.”
“Son, everyone has committed sins before the eyes of The One Most High. Don’t play with sin, for those who play with sin, they will surely be in danger of the judgement.”
“Rabbi, you are still my father, long after you have traveled into the divinity of the spiritual world.”
“My son, I see you have traveled to the city of Chicago.”
“Yes, I have.”
“Do you not seek vengeance on yet another one of your adversaries?”
“Yes, Rabbi, I do.”
“Like your other adversaries, will he also suffer from a devastating plague?”
“A devastating plague, but on a milder level.”
“But doesn’t vengeance belong to The One Most High?”
“Yes, but------.”
“But, are you still bringing harm to those who’ve harmed you?”
“Yes, Rabbi, I am.”
“Before you die from this Earth, please make sure that you make your peace with The One Most High.”
“Yes, Rabbi, I will.”
“Stuart, my beloved son, I will be with you until the very end.”
“Rabbi Wedemeyer, you were my father in the Earthly world, and you have continued to be my father over into the spiritual world.”
Rabbi Wedemeyer dissolved from the mirror. Stuart took the deepest breath and patted his chest rather hard.


CHAPTER—32

THE GOSPEL TRUTH

Nestled away in their five million dollar hideaway were Anthony and Diane Greenstein. Anthony consulted with his real estate-appraising wife before they both decided to purchase their exclusive mansion in the Merrick Woods section of Long Island. Together, the Greenstein couple earned astronomically-high salaries, with Anthony being the sole breadwinner. His egotistical means of being a man wouldn’t allow his professional wife to out-earn him.
Diane applauded her husband’s choice of residency. The quiet neighborhood of tree-lined streets and pristine properties attracted them to the entrancing enclave of charm and accessibility. Anthony always believed his wife possessed the testament to a builder’s attention to detail and design sensibilities. Their palatial home was built six months prior to them purchasing it. Ten bedrooms, six bathrooms, double door entries, two-zone central air, eat-in kitchen with Bosch appliances and granite countertops were just half the luxuries they bolstered. The other half included twelve-foot ceilings on the first two levels, espresso cabinets and porcelain floors, custom moldings, Pella windows and doors, gas fireplaces, circular driveway, and in-ground swimming pool. These immaculate amenities were enjoyed by the Greenstein family.
Anthony and Diane were proud of their Energy Star home. Everytime they drove up to their castle, it reminded them of what true success meant. Of course, both had already been born into wealth. Not asking any of their parents for a dime, nor an ounce of physical help, they felt they’d earned it solely on their own.
Their two children, four year old Sterling, and three year old Winnie, played happily in the huge backyard with swings and trampolines and plastic balls. Anthony was far from being fulfilled. He yearned to reach billionaire status. When not playing out the role of corporate playboy, he spent time with Diane staring out on the Juliet balcony. They decided to spend a quiet evening in the master bedroom nursing cocktails. Anthony was still haunted by the fact that a colossal New York City rat had bit him in the backside and left him with blood dripping from behind.
“Anthony, darling,” Diane chimed to her husband, breaking her sudden silence. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you from the rear? Your story of running into an accident near a construction sight in Manhattan just doesn’t add up.”
Anthony belted down a chilled shot of brandy. “Diane, what do you want from me, the gospel truth?”
“Yes, give me the gospel truth.”
“Honey, I hope you don’t freak out on me. But, this giant rat bit me from behind and snatched plugs of meat out of my butt.”
Though it was her husband, Diane held in her laugh. “A giant rat? How big was this rat?”
“Do you know how big a football player is who plays for the New York Giants?”
“Only on television.”
“But, you do know how big those guys can get, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
“Well, this giant-humongous rat, it bit me in the rear when I was bending over to pick up some papers.”
Diane never knew how her husband lied right through his teeth. The only bending over he’d done in his office was to bend over and engage in intimacy with his secretary, Elaine Cameron.
“But, Anthony, rats don’t get that big, darling.”
“This one did.”
“Every since we’ve been together, you’ve always told me that you hated rats.”
“Yes, I hate those creepy-crawly, stinky-staggy creatures to death!” Anthony swizzled, shivering from the memory of the many large rats that took over his office. “When I see those furry things, my flesh crawls, my skin sweats, my bones shake, my spine wiggles, my stomach churns, my brain rumbles, my-------.”
“Okay, okay, Anthony, I get the point,” Diane respectfully interjected. “But, didn’t you tell me that Greenstein Towers were free from rats and roaches, from waterbugs and other pests?”
“Sure, I told you that. The biggest rat of them all had the brightest golden glow around him.”
“Golden glow? What, like some creature from outer space?”
“Yes, and this rat could speak English like we’re sitting here talking to one another right now.”
“No, Anthony,” Diane objected. “Rats don’t talk. Question, honey.”
“What?”
“How many times have you seen the movie ‘Ben’?”
“One time when I was a kid. That was one time too many.”
“I thought ‘Ben’ was a great movie.”
“If you can take watching a buncha rats climb all on top of one another.”
“Anthony, I love you. I believe in you and everything you stand for. But, you can’t get me to believe that a huge, NFL-sized rat bit you from behind.”
“This one did, Diane. And I’m sticking to my story.”
Diane gulped down a mouthful of her scotch and Sprite. “Your story almost sounds like the one about the group of men who claimed that these huge, man-sized rats attacked them inside a condominium on the lower east side of Manhattan.”
“The story about the group of investment bankers who were going to gang rape the ten year old Russian immigrant girl?”
“Yes, it’s the story that ran for three consecutive days in the ‘New York Times’. Had these supposedly colossal rats attacked them like they said, they would’ve gotten what they deserved. They were nothing but a group of perverts who were about to use a ten year old girl for their own sick perverted amusement. Honey, I absolutely hate child molesters and rapists.”
“There’s something strange going on around New York, and yet, everyone’s going to find out.”
“Not only in New York,” Diane added, getting a light buzz from her drink. “A homosexual-hating minister from Knoxville, Tennessee claims a whole lot of flying sharks attacked him and his church members in front of a gay nightclub in Los Angeles. This doohickey dumbbell claims these sharks could talk and flew over them and dumped many gallons of water down on them.”
“That’s the weird, weird world we live in.”
“Get this, Anthony. These racists in Dallas and gangbangers in Miami, they claim they were attacked by lots and lots of ants and bees that spoke perfect English. These nonsensical nitwits claimed they were severely stung by these giant insects with supernatural powers.”
Anthony absorbed every word his wife spoke. “Honey, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you for quite some years now.”
“Tell me what?”
“Close to graduating from NYU, I had put together this prank that me and other classmates pulled on some nerdy, dorky type of guy.”
“What type of prank?”
“I’d purchased this outright gorgeous mechanical sex doll from a sex shoppe in Brooklyn to be a part of the prank.”
“Was this guy a virgin or something?”
“Yes, he was. Anyway, we placed this mechanical sex doll in the bed with hundreds and hundreds of white slimy maggots. We had two guys to bring him to this rat and roach-infested motel in the South Bronx. Once he got there, we had him believing that the doll was a real woman. He pulled back the covers and saw the doll covered with all these maggots.”
“Damn!” Diane denounced. “Anthony, how cruel of you guys! You all could’ve thought of a more civil prank than a mechanical sex doll covered with lots of maggots.”
“Aw, we were just having fun.”
“That’s a cruel, sick way of having fun.”
Anthony humped his shoulders and took in a deep breath. “Would you like to know what he told all of us before we left the room?”
“Can’t wait.”
“He told us that what we’d done to him, it would come back to bite all of us in the backside. Sure enough, that gargantuan rat snuck up in my office and bit me from behind.”
Anthony pulled his pants down to give Diane a visual of what had happened.
“This is why I believe he had something to do with me getting bit back there.”
“What’s this guy’s name?”
“Stuart Duffelmeyer.”
“Why would you believe he had something to do with it?”
“I just do, Diane.”
“But, Stuart’s a human being, not some giant-sized rat.”
“This dorky goofball told all of us that we’d come crawling back on our hands and knees to beg for his forgiveness. The rat the size of Hulk Hogan, that thing also told me that I’d come crawling back on my hands and knees to beg for his master’s forgiveness.”
“What master?”
“Same question I asked. Who in the heck is this rat’s master?”
“Sounds like strange occurrences which stretches way beyond our comprehension.”
“The rat also told me that his master sent him to plague me.”
“Plague you?”
“Yes, like in The Bible. Like the story of the Egyptians that were plagued by frogs and lice and diseases.”
“Where’s this Stuart Duffelmeyer now?”
“Last I heard, he owned and operated some pet stores and vet clinics there in Manhattan and other parts of New York.”
“Where are your other NYU classmates?”
“I don’t know and don’t care,” Stuart expressed quite pompously.
“Have you ever thought about finding this Stuart Duffelmeyer and apologizing to him?”
“Never!” Anthony grumbled upon impulse. “Not in this lifetime, not in the next lifetime, nor in a trillion millenniums to come. I don’t care about giant talking rats or plagues or anything else. It will be him who comes to me on his hands and knees to apologize to me. It will be him who feels the plaguing wrath of Anthony Aldolphus Greenstein in the end.”
Had Anthony known the supernatural powers Stuart possessed, he’d immediately change his tune. His problems hadn’t even begun. His future sorrows were great. Afterall, it was Anthony who gave birth to the prank. It would be him, in the end, who’d come up short. And that was the gospel truth.


CHAPTER—33

ENERGIZING THE ELEMENTS

Saving fifty dollars on a car from Hertz rental in Chicago never mattered one bit to Stuart. The savings might’ve afforded him to cover a few meals while staying in the Windy City. His love for convertibles encouraged him to rent a fire red Corvette with power mirrors, power windows, tilt steering, and a V8 engine. The car came equipped with all the features he needed to make his trip far outside the city limits of Chicago.
Stuart entered Interstate 55 with a full tank of gas. The trip from Chicago to Peoria only required two-thirds of a tank. The north-south highway journey of one-hundred and thirty miles took him just under two hours. A panorama view of downtown Peoria diverted his attention from the road from across the Illinois River. It wasn’t a bad idea to drive through downtown to check out the Peoria Civic Center and O’Brien Field.
Single women leaving their condominiums and riverfront lofts looked over in the street to watch Stuart cruising through in the fancy Corvette. He waved and they waved back. What they saw behind the wheel was a successful young man packed with potent doses of self-assurance. Eccentricly, the face of Laura Rivenburg popped up inside his mind. She wasn’t his wife, but he’d been reminded of how he’d met an attractive and kind-spirited woman who was definitely a keeper.
He cruised on through downtown Peoria and along Grandview Drive, considered the “world’s most beautiful drive” since it ran through Peoria Heights. Stuart drove another eight miles west of Peoria and parked the Corvette. The area claimed nothing but barren flat lands and thick wooded fields. Tornado emergencies were reported many of times in Peoria. Stuart knew he’d come to the perfect area in the state of Illinois.
The National Weather Service picked up many tornado warnings on their Doppler radars and storm spotters in the exact location he decided to take a rest. Motorists were often afraid to travel nearby during tornadoes. They’d been cautioned to take shelter under highway underpasses or abandon their vehicles and hide in low-lying areas. He glanced down at his watch. It was several minutes past seven o’clock. The skies were perfectly clear. The sun had set far in the east. Temperatures climbed to the middle nineties.
Stuart reached into his baggy slacks and brought out the consecrated magical talisman. Like always, he used fierce mental concentration. He ran all ten fingers along the ever powerful Hebrew lettering. The skies high above turned dark gray. Even on a perfectly sunny day, heavy thunderstorm clouds had clustered together. Right from where he stood, within a four-block radius, a funnel-like tail emerged near the ground. Winds twisted and turned at phenomenal speeds. These were the remarkable beginnings of a raging tornado.
The enormous forces of the tornado grabbed Stuart off the ground and inside its hollow corridors. The winds were strong enough to snatch every strand of hair off his head, every tooth from out of his mouth, and every nail from off his hands and feet. The sensitivity in his eardrums caused an irritable popping sensation. This ritual might’ve been the greatest challenge he faced. What he forgot was how he had clashed with the ‘tornado alley’ within the state of Illinois.
The warm and moist air advanced through the eastward cold front to create thunderstorms around the massive tornado. Basketball-sized hail spun around the corridors, missing Stuart everytime it shot from one side to the next. Stuart couldn’t believe he withstood winds at over two-hundred miles per hour.
Telepathic messages were exchanged between him and the humidity levels and temperatures of the monstrous tornado. Suspended between the masses of air which rotated horizontally, Stuart blew a gust of strong wind from his chest. As with the consecration of other legion members, he followed through with much success.
Stuart rotated his head and felt the mighty winds from the tornado. “From this day forward, you will be addressed as Major Joezer, the Hebrew word ‘Joezer’ meaning he that aids. Your Universal powers will aid many helpless souls on this Earth.”
A few seconds was all it took for Stuart to be placed back on level ground. The intense winds, dark clouds, and large hail from Major Joezer, had disappeared within a flash. Wondrously, there were no power outages. Homes and businesses suffered not a speck of damage. Stuart brushed hair back and drove off in the convertible Corvette.


CHAPTER—34

WRATH OF THE WILD WINDS

The Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals in Chicago were happy to have the Honorable David Nguyen as one of their chief judges. Years after receiving his juris doctorate from NYU’s School of Law, he looked at job prospects from major law firms and criminal courts in Chicago. The windy city had much to offer him in terms of career choices. David was almost crippled from amazement when he learned that the President of the United States had appointed him top judge.
The big appointment catapulted him into a position of mandated royalty. His first year after arriving in Chicago, David met a beautiful Irish lady named Verna McReynolds. Her long fire red hair, which flowed down her back with deep wavy texture, caught his attention right away. Those dark red freckles around her eyes and nose tickled his senses. Verna had a certain class about her that David found irresistible.
The couple soon ran into problems after they started dating. David’s parents believed he should’ve kept the tradition of the Nguyen family bloodline pure. Translation: They wanted their son to marry an esteemed Korean woman. Threatening to exclude him from the family business, it didn’t affect his choice to continue dating, and then later marrying Verna. Love was love in their eyes. Verna’s family, more particularly her parents, believed she should’ve married a rich and handsome Irish boy. Marrying someone she loved and treated her right leaned more towards her personal sentiments.
Five years into their marriage, Verna presented David with a daughter and a son, three year old Vida Nguyen, and two year old Darrell Nguyen. They were blessed with the most gorgeous Eurasian children on Earth. Verna decided to be a stay-at-home mom since David earned an upper six-figure salary. A one-hundred and fifty-thousand dollar home in the Chicago suburbs suited them just fine. She didn’t mind being a domesticated woman since it’d been a family tradition for many years.
Much activity went on inside the Everett McKinley Dirksen Federal Building in downtown Chicago. Criminals from every spectrum were transported inside the skyscraper at 219 South Dearborn Street. During his short tenure as chief judge, David was noted for his economic analysis of law and his legalist approach to judicial interpretation. Not a court session went by which didn’t raise his interest level. He stepped up on the bench with his black robe swinging side-to-side.
“Next case on the docket,” announced David, a fresh cup of coffee awakening his senses.
The baliff held the most recent docket in his hand. “Your honor, the next case is the state of Illinois versus the Galloway Group.”
“Counsel, how does your client plead?” David looked out and asked the legal counsel.
“Your honor, lead representative with the Galloway Group pleads not guilty.”
“Counsel, please state your case.”
The lawyer representing the Galloway Group tuned his voice for clear speaking. “Your honor, my concern is to challenge the district court’s motion to indict my client for selling cigarettes to Illinois residents in violation of state laws, and for failing to report those sales in violation of federal laws.”
“Prosecution, how do you state your case?” David asked the eager attorney over at prosecution’s desk.
The prosecuting attorney sucked in long winds before he spoke. “Your honor, the court held that the defendant’s contacts with the state of Illinois were efficient to satisfy due process.”
“How does the prosecution uphold this evidence?”
“Your honor, the defendant maintained commercial websites through which customers could purchase cigarettes, calculate their shipping charges, in using bogus zip codes and account invoices.”
“And there is sufficient evidence to support this?”
“Yes, the state of Illinois claims arise out of the defendant’s contacts with organized crime figures as it has sold and shipped cigarettes to Illinois residents.”
“Has the defendant’s actions surrounding those sales triggered Illinois’s claims against it?”
“Yes, your honor.”
David looked back over at the defendant’s table. “Counsel, how do you respond to these allegations?”
“Your honor, I realize any exercised jurisdiction over my client is fair. But, my client setting up an expansive, sophisticated commercial venture online is not a crime.”
“Dealing with felony, organized crime individuals is a crime.”
“My client’s business is legitimate, and it conducts business nationwide with honest businessmen and businesswomen. Furthermore, the Galloway Group does business with forty-nine other states and ships to every state except for New York.”
“The Galloway Group purposely excluded New York from its customer pool since they knew they’d be subjected to the jurisdiction of honest merchants.”
David pounded his gavel from up on the bench. “Defending a lawsuit in the state of Illinois may prove to be a burden on the Galloway Group. Their physical business operations have a strong interest in providing a forum to resolve any disputes in the state itself. Therefore, this case is still in the early stages of litigation. There are relevant factors which weigh conclusively in the Galloway Group’s favor. This court is now adjourned.”
David pounded his gavel once again. He left the bench with his robe doing a dance of its own. Once inside his chambers, he faced mounds of paperwork. The duties of a chief judge were never finished. Several trials and jury selections in the coming weeks kept him quite busy. Instructing the juries and trial proceedings had him running from here-to-there.
Waiting for verdicts made his heart beat to its own rhythm. He reached into one of the oak cabinets and brought out a fifth of bourbon and a bottle of aspirins. Yes, his stress level rose to concerned heights. The phone inside his chambers rung.
David picked it up after swallowing down four aspirins along with a throatful of bourbon. “Yeah, this is David Nguyen.”
The court secretary squealed into the phone. “Your honor, there’s a Deputy Jim Ornstein here to see you.”
“Please, send him right in.”
David chewed a half-pack of mints before the knock sounded at his door. Deputy Ornstein had come to pay him an unexpected visit. Dropping in on him without notice sort of had him worried.
“Deputy, how are you?” David said, clobbering up Deputy Ornstein’s left hand with both of his hands.
“Fine, Judge Nguyen,” Ornstein responded, staring all around the decorated office. “See you graduated with honors from NYU Law School.”
“A little over six years ago. Those were some of the greatest years of my life.”
“Bet they were.”
“What can I do for you, Deputy?”
“West Humboldt Park is why I’m here. A whole lotta gang activity’s been going on in that neighborhood. Myself and the department don’t like it one bit.”
“What, you want me and the courts to do something about it?”
“Too many guns are getting in the hands of the wrong people. Those young people are out there dying like flies. Heck, we’ve been getting calls from people about bullets flying all through their windows and front and back doors.”
“Sure, I heard about that. They said something about gang members taking over entire neighborhoods in West Humboldt Park. Murderers is what they are, Deputy.”
“Anyway, I’ve got community activists and city council folks breathing down my neck. I think we should call a city wide meeting to help eradicate some of this street violence. Your presence at such a meeting might help. What’cha say, judge?”
“You’ve got my support.”
“Great. Say hello to the family for me.”
“Will do, deputy.”
Deputy Ornstein left the chambers and David snuck out his fifth of bourbon for another taste. Careful not to become intoxicated, he’d had his last drink for the day. David sat in his leather swivel chair and dozed off. Suddenly, the windows behind him rattled. The floor rocked like a mild earthquake. Howling winds whistled through the cracks of the door. This awoke David to full attention. The windows burst open. The funnel shape of a raging tornado invited itself inside the chambers. Yes, Major Joezer, the masterful tornado, had arrived inside the Dirksen Federal Building.
Papers flew off the polished oak desk and littered the walls and floor. Hail the size of both golfballs and basketballs crashed through the ceiling. The larger-sized hail popped him in both eyes. The smaller-sized chunks pounded into his scalp and forehead. His eyes swole up like he’d been beaten in a gang fight. Big red knots rose out of his scalp and forehead. Major Joezer’s tail lifted David off the ground and slammed him against the hard oak cabinets.
The powerful tornado’s tail snatched him around the ankles and turned him upside down. The pointed metal knobs on the cabinets stuck out far enough for King Joezer to slam David’s body into from behind. The knobs pierced him into his backside. The instant pain had him screaming and clutching himself from the rear.
David fought the turbulent forces with the little strength he had. “How’d a tornado get inside my office?”
“My master sent me in here,” Major Joezer answered back, strong winds blowing all through his mouth and ears.
“Who’s your master?”
“You know him very well.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do. Because of your evil infractions, my master has instructed me to plague you.”
“Plague me for what?” David asked, his puffy eyes closing tighter.
“Plague you because of your insensitivity towards others.”
“What insensitivity?”
“You must determine the answer to this riddle. My master has commissioned me to teach you a lesson that you’ll never forget.”
“You and your master can go to hell!”
“An unwise choice of words, David,” Major Joezer protested, the winds inside his tornado corridors growing stronger.
“I hate tornadoes to no bitter end. Tornadoes make me sick!”
“David, you too, will come crawling on your hands and knees to beg for the forgiveness of my master.”
“But, you still haven’t told me who your master is,” David requested, still suspended in mid-air with the damaging winds blowing out the follicles of his scalp and eyebrow hairs.
“Never mind. This plague will remind you that you hold an apologetic debt for my master.”
Major Joezer eased the power of the winds. David was dropped to the floor. The major swooped out the window and disappeared into the partly cloudy Chicago skies.
A court-appointed clerk knocked on David’s door. Uninvited, she walked into his chambers and couldn’t believe what she saw lying across the floor.
“Your honor!” the clerk cried, reaching down to help David off the floor.
He used both hands to brush his hair back and rub the knots on his forehead. “Goodness! I don’t know what happened here in my chambers.”
“Who punched you in the face, your honor?”
“I don’t know. These strange winds burst through the window and big hailstones rained from the ceiling.”
“Looks like you were in a fight or something.”
“Don’t think I’m crazy, but a tornado just ravaged my office.”
“Tornado?” the clerk repeated, now thinking the chief judge might’ve been insane in the brain. “But, there were no tornadoes anywhere near downtown Chicago, sir.”
“Believe me, this was a tornado. This one talked, too.”
“A talking tornado? As in speaking good English like you and I?”
“Yes, like you and I here talking to one another.”
“Sir, what did this tornado say?”
“Said something about its master sending it here inside my chambers to plague me.”
“Plague you? For what reasons, sir?”
“Your guess is just as good as mine’s.”
She observed the bruises across his face and on top of his head. “Would you like for me to call an ambulance?”
“That won’t be necessary.”
The clerk felt she had talked to a man who needed serious psychiatric evaluation. Tornadoes didn’t talk. David had enough liberty to figure out what really happened inside his chambers.


CHAPTER—35

CLASH OF THE PARTY CRASHERS

Megan Piccirillo-Pisano and her husband, Thomas Pisano, hosted a pool party at their lavish estate in the northwest Dallas suburb of Keller. Their children, Thomas Jr., and Melissa, were taken away by some of Thomas’ relatives visiting Dallas for the weekend. His two sisters were elated to snatch up their nephew and niece to spend some quality time. Friday evening in Dallas exacted wonderful sub-tropical temperatures with lots of sunshine.
Fall quickly approached and many friends of Megan and Thomas came out to party with the best of them. Thomas hired one of the best experts in Dallas to treat the pool water with chlorinators and algaecides. Filter aids and balancers were also used to keep anyone from catching infections. Mini tables and chairs and ottomans were set up for the guest to enjoy their food and drinks during the swimming party.
A bar was also set up for a bartender to serve up every type of drink for the friends of the Pisanos. Chefs were hired to cook up the dishes that went perfect with a pool party. The grills were fired up with hotdogs, hamburgers, turkey burgers, chicken, fish, and ribs. Tables were set up with potato salad, coleslaw, baked beans, fruit salad, deviled eggs, spinach salad, and Swedish meatballs. A separate table was set aside for soda, beer, wine, and water. Towels and sunglasses were provided to those who wanted to take a swim.
The Pisanos hosted a great pool party. Some of the women wore skimpy bathing suits while the men walked around shirtless in Hawaiian print swimming trunks. With several people jumping in and out of the pool, water splashed from all sides. Megan invited a few of her co-workers from Methodist Dallas Medical Center. Some of the gorgeous nurses who worked during Megan’s shift caused Thomas to develop wandering eyes. Two nurses in particular didn’t mind lying on their stomachs to show off their great figures. The blue moon islander float moved them from one end of the pool to the next.
To say the least, Thomas invited over some of the handsome guys from his stock brokerage firm. Megan dared not develop wandering eyes. She only had eyes for Thomas. No man walking the Earth was as handsome as her husband. The pool became crowded with all types of floats. Thomas placed four speakers near the doorway leading to the pool. Music from the seventies, eighties, nineties, and even into the Twenty-First Century, thumped loudly through the speakers. People were drinking and eating and having the grandest time.
Lowell Jackman, one of the truer friends of Thomas, stood off to the side munching on a turkey burger with potato salad and baked beans. Lowell was tall, lean, handsome, and quite intelligent. If Thomas needed someone to go to hell and back for him, Lowell would be his best candidate.
Thomas walked up and tapped Lowell on the shoulder. “Lowell, my good friend, you having a good time?”
“The time of my life,” Lowell contested, devouring most of the food on the paper plate.
“Gotta ask you something, Lowell.”
“Go right ahead.”
Thomas pointed towards the opposite end of the pool. “Who’s that beauty down there in the blue bathing suit?”
“Never seen her before. You know, most of us here are strangers to one another.”
“Does anyone else here knows who she is?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Say, aren’t you worried that Megan might find out that you’re inquiring about that woman?”
“Sort of, sort of not.”
“Just don’t ask any of these women who she is. There’s a chance they might go back and tell your wife.”
“Tattle tells, huh?”
“Women talk, Tom. Keeping secrets are the hardest things for them to do. Say, why do you wanna know who that woman is?”
“She’s a ridiculously beautiful babe. Her body and face can win every beauty contest in the world.”
“I’d say that she’s a genuine beauty. Question, Tom?”
“Which is?”
“Would you be willing to cheat on your wife with her?”
“Good question,” Thomas considered. “It’d be tempting, I can surely tell you that.”
The very woman Thomas mean-mugged so heavily rolled off the float and came out of the pool. She had his heart pounding and mouth watering. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Megan took her by the hand and led her over to where Thomas and Lowell stood.
“Tom, I’d like for you to meet one of my good friends from the hospital,” Megan initiated, a big happy smile on her face. “Tom, this Julie Lane. Julie, this is my husband, Tom. She’s one of the head RNs from Methodist Dallas.”
Yes, Julie was a true beauty. Her features were striking. Her body was deliciously toned.
Tom reached forward to shake her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Julie.”
“The pleasure’s all mine’s,” Julie accepted, shooting enticing stares at Thomas.
“So, are you having a good time?”
“This is the coolest pool party in the world.”
Megan grabbed Julie’s hand and took her around to meet other guests. Thomas couldn’t stop looking at the awesome goddess. Only minutes away from darkness, the lights around the pool and from under the water’s surface came on. More tables were brought out to start up card and domino games. A caterer rolled out a table with a long sheet of cake on top.
Thomas and Julie decided to sneak away into the master bedroom suite upstairs for a hot second rendezvous. Their arms went locking around one another’s bodies. Thomas pulled her head closer to press his lips into her’s. My, how they moved so fast. He dropped her onto the plush king-sized bed and fell on top of her. They both knew they couldn’t stay upstairs for too long.
“What if Megan comes barging through the door?” Julie asked, afraid they’d surely get caught.
“She’s down by the pool talking with other hospital employees,” Thomas assured Julie, kissing her up and down her girlish face.
Expeditiously, Thomas wanted to heat up their intimacy.
“This just doesn’t feel right.”
“What?”
“Me here upstairs with my good friend’s husband.”
“Honey, we’re both just being human beings.”
“Human beings doing wrong.”
From near the entrance of the pool, Thomas heard a familiar voice calling his name. “Damn, that’s Megan calling. I thought she’d be occupied for a lot more longer.”
“Is she on her way up here?” Julie fretted, jumping off the bed and fixing her hair.
“I know the ins and outs of this house. She’s still over near the pool.”
“Then, let’s leave from up here before she busts us.”
“You’re right.”
Thomas and Julie returned downstairs. Too bad they couldn’t finish what they’d started. Audaciously, an army of tiny, red imported fire ants crawled from out of the cracks near the pool and the enclosed fence. A few ants turned into hundreds of other ants. Guests of Megan and Thomas couldn’t believe what was happening. A wall of fire ants barricaded the door leading inside the house. None of the guests could leave the pool area. Supernaturally, the tiny ants grew at rapid speeds into colossal ants. In the midst of the colony, Queen Amina emerged. A blinding fluorescent red glow engulfed her body. Her eyes glowed with a fiery yellow, while her antennaes burned with non-consuming fire.
“Jesus, Mary, Joseph, and Joshua!” Thomas yelled out, snatching up a long iron pole.
“Where’d those glowing red space monsters come from?” Lowell asked, scared straight out of his wits.
The red imported fire ants flew all through the air and around the pool. The guests ducked while seeking shelter behind the furniture or one another.
“Colony, attack them!” Queen Amina ordered her colony.
The ants swooped around the entire pool and attacked everyone on command. Charging the women in bikinis and the men in shorts, the giant-sized ants sunk their jaws into their tender flesh. A non-lethal venom from their stingers caused red welts to pop up along their arms and legs. Members of the colony yanked liquor and soda bottles and platters of food off the table.
The contents were dumped down on the guests who stood far out in the open. Queen Amina cornered Megan and Thomas with her super-sized body. The couple were frightened by her flaming antennaes and glowing yellow eyes. Her kindled flapping wings produced friction strong enough to blow over objects on the tables. She released an extreme aggression of red fire from her mouth.
“Megan, have you not considered apologizing to my master?” asked Queen Amina, her fiery yellow eyes intimidating the very livelihood out of Megan.
“Your master?” Megan questioned, shaking from head-to-toe. “You were the one who attacked me inside the break room at the hospital. What do you want from me? Why have you come to my home to bother me and my friends?”
“What is required from this day forward, is for you to express an apologetic gesture to my master. As it has been pre-destined, myself and the colony have come to plague you and your friends.”
“Please, tell me who your master is.”
“The secrets of the Universe will not permit me to reveal who my master is. It has been spoken before, that you will come crawling on your hands and knees to beg for my master’s forgiveness.”
“Apologize for what?”
“Figure it out for yourself, Megan. Would you like to know something else?”
“What?”
Queen Amina lifted her wings towards the sky. “Look’a there, your husband Thomas snuck off to have a grand old time.”
Megan looked into the sky and the embarrassment of a lifetime played out before her very eyes. A video-like image of Thomas and Julie stretched across the bed filled almost every inch of space in the Dallas skies. Others looked up and were in complete awe. They cupped their mouths and bowed their heads in inadvertent shame.
Megan stepped over and pounded her fist into Thomas’ chest. “How dare you! I turn my back, and you sneak off to have a good time with my dear friend.”
“Meg, it’s not what it seems,” Thomas defended, stunned by not being able to cover his tracks.
“You liar! You cheater! You adulterer!”
“That’s pure deception being played up there in the sky.”
“You’re lying, Tom.”
“No, honey, I’m not.”
Megan turned to stare at Julie with eyes of killer instincts. “And you, Julie. How could you come to my house and have an affair with my husband?”
“Like Tom said, it’s not what it seems,” Julie sustained, the truth far from her conscious.
“You, too, are a stinking liar.”
“Please forgive me, Megan.”
Megan grabbed one of the long forks used to flip over the barbecue meat. She pointed it straight at Julie. “After today, I never want to see you again. Even at the hospital, when we pass one another, I’m going to pretend that you’re invisible.”
She charged at Julie and ran her off the premises. Megan was hurt.
The flames ignited from Queen Amina’s antennaes grew stronger. A roaring blaze shot from her mouth. “Megan, until you apologize to my master, the plagues will still come.”
Queen Amina flapped her wings as her eyes projected a more concentrated glow. “Colony, follow me into the stratosphere.”
The Queen and her colony darted into the nighttime skies. They seemed to have vanished within a split-second. Megan and Thomas, along with their guests, couldn’t believe what had happened. Believe it or not, they watched hundreds of tiny ants grow into human-sized ants. What they witnessed was no fairytale story. The area around the pool was a complete mess.
Food and drinks weren’t only scattered all over the ground, but the guests had liquor and food smeared in their hair and across their faces. The pool was filled with silverware and plates and condiments. Megan and Thomas wasted no time apologizing to their guests. They escorted them out the house. Boy, did they have stories to tell to their families and friends.
Thomas wanted to talk with his wife before he cleaned up the pool area. “Meg, I can see that you were telling the truth about the giant ants attacking you in the break room at the hospital. But, the one giant ant with the fire-burning antennaes and fire-breathing mouth, what’s this crap about its master?”
“Tom, we should be talking about you and Julie sneaking upstairs.”
“Babe, deception is what you saw playing out up there in those crazy skies.”
“Tom, I don’t know nothing about no darn master,” Megan promised Tom, trying not to believe that her husband cheated with her good friend.
“Where’d those monster-sized ants come from? And the leader, it actually spoke good English.”
Megan leaned over and planted a light kiss on the cheek of Thomas. “Tom, I’ve got a confession.”
“So, you’re going to tell me about the skeletons in your closet?”
“Honey, when I was in college at NYU, me and some of my classmates pulled a serious prank on this one guy.”
“We’ve all played pranks on somebody before.”
“But listen, this prank was real serious. We lured this one nerdy, dorky guy to a rundown motel in the South Bronx in order to play out this prank. When we got him to the motel, we had a mechanical sex doll waiting in the bed along with a buncha squirming maggots.”
“Were you guys that cruel in college?”
“Anyway, he thought he’d get laid that night. But instead, when he pulled the covers back, he saw that it was nothing but a mechanical sex doll with lots and lots of maggots crawling all around the hair and face and body.”
“So, tell me, what was your role in the prank?”
“I pretended to be the voice of the doll.”
“How’d you pull that off?”
“I hid in a closet that was close to the bed.”
“How many of you guys were involved in this prank.”
“Eight, total.”
“I’d like to know what that guy’s life is like now?”
“Before we all left the room laughing our heads off, he told us that what we’d done to him, it would come back and bite us in the backside. He promised us that we’d come crawling on our hands and knees to beg for his forgiveness.”
“Are you serious, Meg?”
“Serious as the souls of our two children. When I was attacked at the hospital, it was that big queen ant who stung me right in my backside. And tonight, you heard what that same queen ant said to me.”
“All of this seems like a buncha supernatural, sci-fi, mumbo jumbo crap that some psycho- sicko dreamed up.”
“But it’s real, Tom,” Megan cried out, light tears streaming down her alluring face. “Those ants are going to plague me until I apologize.”
“The dork you pulled the prank on, what’s his name?”
“Stuart Duffelmeyer. He grew up in Staten Island.”
“Where’s he living now?”
“Last I heard, he was still living in New York. He owns a few pet stores and vet clinics around the city.”
Thomas leaned over and wrapped his loving arms around Megan. “After what we witnessed tonight, I believe that you should find this Stuart Duffelmeyer and apologize to him.”
“For what, Tom?”
“He might be using his supernatural powers to work through those fire ants.”
“What, to plague us?”
“Maybe.”
Megan and Thomas had lots of clean-up work to do. Him fooling around with Julie, she wasn’t going to let him off the hook so easy. The pool area remained a total mess. Whether or not Megan would follow Thomas’ advice and apologize to Stuart, it remained questionable.


CHAPTER—36

BREAKING INTO BREW CITY

Leaving Chicago for Milwaukee slowed things down considerably for Stuart. He arrived in “Brew City” a little past two o’clock p.m. and checked into the prestigious Pfister Hotel in downtown Milwaukee. As a young man with resplendent taste, he picked out the Pfister because it was centrally-located with impeccable style. From the moment he arrived, he noticed the extraordinary architecture in the lobby and the welcoming ambiance from the desk clerks.
The priceless Victorian artwork collection was like none in the world. The accommodations were superior while the hotel furnishings were simply magnificent. Inside his room, there on the twentieth floor, Stuart took a deep breath. He enjoyed luxurious hotels from one corner of the United States to the next. An awesome view overlooking Lake Michigan rejuvenated his senses. Once again, having direct access to the Duffelmeyer fortune had its privileges.
A new city meant new scenery. Different people meant different attitudes. Stuart dazed out the window and marveled at the surrounding views of other buildings like the Marcus Center for Performing Arts, St. John’s Cathedral, US Bank Center, and Riverwalk Plaza. The ivory-covered walls of Marquette University were priceless.
Having amenities in his guestroom like central air conditioning, a refrigerator, microwave, irons, hairdryers, satellite television, high speed internet, and designer toiletries, made him feel right at home once again. Every hotel had him feeling like he was at a temporary home away from his permanent home in Staten Island. The familiar ringtone of his cell phone echoed from inside his black travel bag.
Stuart searched the bag until the phone slipped out. “Stuart here.”
“Stuart?” chimed the familiar voice of a cultured woman.
“Laura?” Stuart replied, both of them surprised to hear each other’s voice.
“Stuart, where are you?”
“Milwaukee, Laura.”
“What are you doing in Milwaukee?”
“Business-as-usual, darling,” Stuart falsified, the truth better untold.
“Would it have anything to do with your pet stores and vet clinics?”
“Yes, it would.”
“The question remains the same, Stuart.”
“And that would be?”
“When are you coming back to New York?”
“Soon, Laura, very soon.”
“Stuart, are you putting me off?” Laura investigated, her loving heart yearning for him.
“Not at all.”
“I know you’re not seeing another woman.”
“Of course not.”
“You said you’d be coming back home soon. How soon is soon?”
“After Milwaukee, I’ve got one more city to tackle.”
“You’re making it sound like you’re on a conquest or something.”
“That preposterous, Laura. Business requires me to travel from one end of America to the next. My parents, both being deep off into real estate ownership and management, they’re constantly traveling from one state to the next, one city to the next.”
“Business is business. Can I put it all out on the line?”
“Sure you can.”
“Stuart, I’m missing you. I believe we should take things slow, but I’ve never met anyone like you before. When we were in Las Vegas, no man would’ve taken the time to shower me with so much special treatment. The affection you showed me with, it was quite invigorating. I can still hear that song playing in my head.”
“Sharing The Night Together?”
“Yes, that wonderfully beautiful ballad by Dr. Hook.”
“The night we spent together, it was like something that I’d never experienced. The euphoria took me to a world of ecstasy.”
“I feel the same way.”
“When I return to New York, I will be a man of my word. You and I are going to make up for lost time. What’cha say to that, babygirl?”
“I’d say yes.”
Stuart looked down at his watch and murmured. “Boy, do I have to get going.”
“Will you call me later?”
“No doubt.”
“Bye, Stuart.”
“Bye, Laura.”
Stuart and Laura ended the call by smacking their lips close to their phones. Stuart wanted to make use of every dime spent on the guestroom at the Pfister Hotel. He got undressed and adorned himself in pure white terry towels. The shower water ran hot for several minutes before it steamed up the mirrors and the pink and blue tiles. Before climbing inside the glass-enclosed shower, he wiped away the steam from the magnified mirror. The spiritual reflection of Rabbi Irwin Wedemeyer stared directly at him.
“Rabbi Wedemeyer,” Stuart spoke favorably, a big smile tacked to his sweaty face.
“Stuart, my son,” Rabbi Wedemeyer replied, always happy to visit with his beloved Earthly son. “I see you have come to Milwaukee, Wisconsin.”
“Yes, it’s true, Rabbi Wedemeyer.”
“Have you not come to seek vengeance on yet another one of your enemies?”
“Rabbi, it is not vengeance. What the egomaniacal eight did to me in that sleazy motel in the South Bronx, there still must be retribution for them to pay. I have not embarked upon this journey to destroy them, but I have been given permission by the supreme powers of the Universe to bring them back to their normal state of humility.”
“Have they not learned any state of humility?”
“They’re getting there, Rabbi. In due time, they will learn to treat their brethren as they treat themselves.”
“My dearest son, Stuart. Has the young lady that you met in Las Vegas continues to seek you out as her possible lifetime mate?”
“I believe so,” Stuart regarded. “Laura has become a persistent woman. In all my thirty-one years on this planet, no woman has sought me out like her.”
The divine, celestial glow around Rabbi Wedemeyer’s spirit intensified. “Stuart, my grandest son. The word of God speaks the holiest truth. The book of Proverbs, the twelfth chapter, says: ‘A virtuous woman is a crown to her husband: but she that maketh ashamed is as rotteneness in his bones’.”
“Interpret that further. Break it down for me.”
“Son, Laura can become a virtuous wife for you. She will not maketh ashame in any way for you.”
“Are you saying that I should marry her?”
“The One Most High will guide you. Read The Torah and The Holy Bible more often.”
The spiritual form of Rabbi Wedemeyer dissolved from the smoky mirror. The rabbi sure left Stuart with something to think about.


CHAPTER—37

RETURN OF THE STINGER CREW

Entertaining guests for a dinner party delighted Dana Potts-Briscoe and her husband, Dr. Michael Briscoe. The best servers and caterers were hired to keep everyone eating and drinking. A deejay was discovered by Michael to spin some tasteful music from the seventies, eighties, and nineties. From inside their elaborate Coconut Grove home in the exclusive section of Miami, people from the upper-eschelon of society dined on the finest food and drank the best liquors.
Dana couldn’t resist inviting some of her colleagues from the Miami television station of WNSV. Anchormen and weathermen, along with technical crews, were handed their invitations there at the station. Michael went around to some of his constituents at The University of Miami and told them about a party they couldn’t refuse. The president and top professors were jubilant about the gathering.
Guests mingled with food and drinks in either hand. A big gathering in the open first floor plan allowed most to become acquainted. Dana pulled Michael by the hand and led him across the room. Her co-anchor from WNSV, Tino Fernandez, and his wife, the gorgeous Maria Fernandez, stood in the middle room munching on good food and sipping down drinks.
“Michael, this is my co-anchor from the station, Tino Fernandez. This is his wife, Maria Fernandez.”
Tino returned a gracious smile. “Michael, the pleasure is all mine’s.”
Michael took a strong look at the latin beauty. His corrupt heart thumped with lust. Maria possessed the type of beauty men killed for.
“Tino, it’s a pleasure, as well as a privilege,” Michael reciprocated. “You’re a very lucky man.”
“The same could be said for you, Michael.”
Maria broke into an appreciative smile. Michael had his eyes on Maria while Tino had his eyes on Dana.
“So, you’re a professor of sociology at the University of Miami?” Tino asked, trying hard to keep his eyes off Dana’s deliciously-shaped backside.
The form-fitted evening dress she wore turned many heads.
“Actually, I’m the dean of sociology at the university,” Michael bragged in the most discreet way.
His curious eyes still admired the complete package of Maria. She could’ve easily been labeled a true “latin spitfire”.
“You have a beautiful home here in Coconut Grove.”
“Why, thank you.”
Both Dana and Maria loved being married to professional men. Mixed signals were sent into the air.
Dana reached over and rattled the arm of Tino. “Michael, Tino and I covered the story about the gang members in Liberty City who claimed they were attacked by the giant killer bees that spoke English.”
“Bet the station’s ratings went through the roof with that story.”
“Through the floor, the roof, and the walls,” Tino added, recalling the story much too well.
“You guys, what’s this story about these killer bees that supposedly came from outer space?” Michael interrogated, thinking about the tragic fate Dana suffered at the station.
“Those gang members are out’a their minds. Giant killer bees from outer space? Ones that could talk? C’mon, give me a break.”
Dana jerked on the hand of Michael. “Tino and Maria, you guys enjoy yourselves. Honey, let’s go around and greet some of the other guests.”
“Fine.”
The deejay played classic tunes from the middle eighties. This really pumped up the party. Half or fully-intoxicated, the guests worked their bodies across the slippery tile floor. It didn’t take long for their fine evening wear to become soaked from sheer energy.
From out of the cracks of the shiny floor tiles, and through the opening of the windows and the doorway, came hundreds of very tiny killer bees.
Tino pointed up towards the ceiling. “Where’d all those little bees come from!”
Michael grabbed Dana and held her in his protective grip. “They’re all over the place!”
The eighty plus guests ducked and barricaded themselves behind furniture and doorways. Many ran hysterically around the open first floor plan.
Right before their confused eyes, the small killer bees quickly expanded to sizes of colossal killer bees. The growth transformation was rather astonishing. The brightest golden glow engulfed the room. Queen Devorah emerged from the midst of her mighty hive. The entrancing glow had generated from her antennaes. Her long sharp stinger produced non-consuming flames.
“Michael!” Dana yelled in her greatest outcry. “That’s the same giant bee that attacked me at the television studio!”
Michael just couldn’t believe what flashed before his eyes. Speechless best described his present demeanor. He was in a suspended state that was unbreakable.
Queen Devorah pointed her antennaes around the entire room. “Hive, attack all of them!”
Upon command, workers from her esteemed hive obeyed their orders.
Colossal killer bees swarmed every inch of space inside the crowded room. Guests threw objects at them. They raced for the doorways for a clean escape.
There were more than enough hive members to intercept anyone from leaving the Briscoe home. Using their powerful stingers, the killer bees inflicted pain on anyone they desired. There was no escaping the wrath of Queen Devorah and her hive.
An outpour of yells and screams echoed from every single guest throughout the home. Up and down their arms and legs, and all along their backs and chests, they bore the red puffy stings of the vigilant bees. Dana and Michael were made sole exceptions from the vicious attacks.
Were the guests paying for the wrongdoing of Dana?
Queen Devorah flapped her sturdy wings and swooped down on Dana. “My master has ordered me and my hive to pay you another visit. It is evident that you have not considered the proposal presented to you in the break room at the hospital.”
Dana shook with extreme fright. “Proposal? I do not know what you’re talking about.”
“For such an offense to my master, it is in your best interest to offer an apologetic gesture to him.”
“For God’s sake, please tell me who your master is.”
Michael trembled from being in the presence of the super-sized, queen killer bee.
“The secrets of the Universe will not permit me to reveal who my master is.”
“Will you tell me the offense that I’m being accused of?”
“The answer lies deep within you. You will continue to be plagued.”
“Can you deliver a message back to your master?”
“Only if your message is acceptable for my master to receive.”
“Whenever I find out who he is, only then will I apologize. How can I apologize to someone or something who I don’t even know. Furthermore, I still don’t know what I’m apologizing about.”
“As mentioned to you before, you will come crawling on your hands and knees to beg for my master’s forgiveness. For his mercy, you will feel privileged for him to bestow upon you.”
Queen Devorah flapped her wings and took center stage near the ceiling. “Come hive, we have further work to perform for our master.”
Seconds was all it took for the queen and her hive to disappear. Dana and Michael released a strong sigh of relief. Their guests stumbled out of their home moaning and groaning from the severe stings. They left with severe stings all over their bodies. Ten minutes was enough time for everyone to clear out of the Briscoe home. Michael witnessed everything for himself. He escorted Dana to the master bedroom suite for a serious pep talk.
“Dana, I want you to be upfront with me,” Michael insisted, calming down from the sudden killer bee castastrophe.
“Michael, never would I keep secrets from you,” Dana said, shook up from the recent invasion of their home.
“At first, I didn’t think bees could grow bigger than human beings. Nonetheless, I didn’t think they talked just like humans talk. But, I saw it for myself tonight. That giant queen bee looked you dead in your face and shot off some stuff about its master. Now, do you have something you’d like to tell me?”
Dana threw both of her hands over the shoulders of Michael. “Dear, when I was a nursing student at NYU, just two weeks away from graduation, some of my classmates and myself decided to play a prank on the goofiest guy on campus. This prank was dreamed up by this really rich Jewish guy named Anthony Greenstein. Since we knew he’d been a virgin all his life, we had him believing we’d get him laid. We picked out this dump of a hotel in the South Bronx to play out our prank. Anthony paid for a mechanical sex doll and we put it in a bed, along with a whole buncha maggots. He came to the hotel and got the embarrassment of a lifetime.”
“What was your part in this prank?” Michael asked, intrigued by the story his wife walked him through.
“I supplied the maggots.”
“You did! As in, the little white insects?”
“Yes, I did. Then, I dumped more maggots on top of his head after he found out that the person in the bed was nothing but a mechanical sex doll.”
“Dana, how could you be so cruel?”
“Back then, I was young and dumb and full of myself. I was just having some fun.”
“Do tell, what was this guy’s name?”
“Stuart Duffelmeyer.”
“Jewish?”
“Duffelmeyer’s Jewish to the bone.”
“They’re God’s chosen people, Dana. You might’ve opened yourself up to negative energy. And that same negative energy, it could’ve transmitted over to our family.”
“Michael, you’re superstitious.”
“Do you know The Bible?”
“Yes, sort of.”
“Remember how God gave Adam dominion over the Earth? Remember how Adam named all the animals and was given dominion over them?”
“Sure, we learned all of that in church when I was growing up.”
“The giant queen bee, the rest of those other bees, maybe they’re some supernatural forces sent to our house as a warning.”
“That’s ludicrous.”
“Ludicrous enough to make you not apologize to this Stuart Duffelmeyer guy?”
Michael hinted around to Dana. She had little time to think about his suggestions. The power to break the devastation of the plague was in her hands.


CHAPTER—38

BIRTH OF THE BAT BATTALION

Stuart filled out some paperwork and drove off in a brand new Nissan Versa from Enterprise Rent-A-Car over on Wisconsin Avenue. The compact car had the features most useful to him. The automatic transmission, air conditioning, power doors and windows, and cd player, were convenient for his distant travel. Flashing his platinum Master Card sure brought a spark to every clerk’s eyes inside the rent-a-car dealership.
Happy and fulfilled were the exact moods Stuart relished. Frequent spiritual visits from Rabbi Irwin Wedemeyer and unexpected phone calls from Laura Rivenburg delighted him every time. Having people to check on him gave him a sense of importance. After several short minutes of travel from Milwaukee, Stuart ended up in the very small city of Mayville, Wisconsin. It was a growing city of a little more than five thousand residents.
Rock River graced through a long stretch of the quiet community. The river flowed at the outskirts of town and around schools and businesses. Stuart felt the comforting essence of the welcoming community of safe neighborhoods and affordable housing. Driving down Kekoskee Street, he passed several medical and learning facilities. He cruised modestly down Breckenridge and Buchanan Streets for sightseeing purposes. A drive of several more miles ended him up near a farm in a town called Herman. The map didn’t quite get him to his desired location.
A farmer wearing dark blue overalls and a large straw hat came upon the road where Stuart had parked. “Young man, are you lost?”
Stuart folded up the map and greeted the farmer with a welcoming smile. “Sir, I believe that I just left Mayville. What section of town am I now in?”
“You’re in Herman,” the farmer directed him. “Where bouts you hunting for, son?”
“Actually, I’m looking for the Neda Mines.”
“The Neda Mines are here in Eastern Dodge County. They’re about a few yards over yonder.”
“I’m trying to follow this map, but somehow I ended up getting lost.”
The farmer gave Stuart the most inquisitive stare. “Young man, those mines been closed since the better part of the early nineteen hundreds.”
“Really?”
“Ain’t nothing inside those mines but a buncha brown bats.”
“Didn’t know that,” Stuart fabricated, hiding the truth from the old farmer.
“Watch yourself, young man. Cause the Natural Resources Board been keeping an eye on those old mines. They don’t want nobody bothering any of those bats since they’ve been dying from that white-nose syndrome crap.”
Stuart cranked up his car and bowed to the farmer. “Sir, thank you for your directions.”
Stuart drove off, and within a short distance, he discovered the Neda Mine Bat Sanctuary there in Dodge County. The old abandoned iron mine was one of three largest bat hibernation sites in North America. Stuart parked and went up to the dark entrance to the mine. Little did he know that decaying rock and limestone made it dangerous to travel inside. Biologists and cavers and environmental engineers had grown afraid to travel into the mines. Such professionals feared how they’d never be heard from again.
Stuart took his first few steps inside the dilapidated mine. Instantly, he lost a small portion of air flow. A few more steps and he entered almost complete darkness. The airflow became less while temperatures dropped to cooler degrees. Stuart traveled just over a mile into the Neda Mine and stopped for rest.
He felt his way through most of the journey. Thousands-upon-thousands of big brown bats were lined along the ceiling and walls of the mine. Many returned to their sanctum after going out on another one of their insect-hunting missions.
The evening meal for most of the bats were beetles, moths, crickets, and mosquitoes. During his veterinarian studies at NYU, Stuart learned how bats were beneficial to farmers and their crops. Farmers were grateful to bats for devouring the insect pests that plagued their crops like peaches and bananas and mangoes.
Nesting in huge colonies, the brown bats echoed much squealing noises throughout the mine. Stuart traveled another half-mile and found a comfortable spot. He lifted the magical talisman from under the thick khaki shirt. Though he was already in near complete darkness, he closed his eyes and pressed both thumbs and index fingers down onto the Hebrew lettering. Seconds was all it took for the thick blackness inside the mines to be erased by supreme cosmic light. Every inch of space burst into a fiery summit of light.
The ground underneath the mines shook with beastly force. Strong winds blew in from the hollow openings. Stuart looked all around the ceiling and walls of the stretched mine. Over five-hundred thousand bats from a four-state region, all lined up along a four mile stretch of tunnels, flew wildly and were within close proximity to Stuart. A half-million little and big brown bats, red and Hoary bats, and silver-haired and Northern long-eared bats, claimed the Neda Mines as their domain.
They all gathered as close to Stuart as space allowed. The bats that were no bigger than human hands expanded to sizes of fully-grown human beings. One could imagine them growing the size of twenty eagles. It’s the exact size the largest bat had grown to. This one flew circles around Stuart at speeds of seventy miles per hour. The leader of the entire colony utilized its power of echolocation to pick up scents and wavelengths coming from Stuart.
The elongated arms and fingers from his massive wingspan caused the other bats to move aside. The claws from the hind feet curled with aggressive motion. The poor visual acuity of its eyes stared valiantly into the eyes of Stuart. Pulses and echoes of frequency coming from the colossal bat were picked up by Stuart. Strong telepathic messages were exchanged between them. These were the monumental periods that were to be cherished. Yet another creature from Earth would join Stuart’s family.
The limited airflow deep inside the mines never bothered anyone. He clamped opposite sides of the giant bat’s head. “From this day forward, you will be addressed as Captain Zamir. The Hebrew name ‘Zamir’ means a nightingale bird of song or to sing. Your Universal powers will be that of a bird with a song in its mouth to help many Earthly souls.
Captain Zamir felt a tingle go up his vertebrae.
Stuart patted his newly-appointed creature on the top of his head.
“Captain Zamir, your powers have been fully-activated. Welcome to the phenomenally sensationalistic family of Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer.”
The great concentration of the light led Stuart right out of the once dark iron mine. He got inside the rent-a-car and drove off.


CHAPTER—39

WORLD CLASS WRECKING WINDS

The Seventh Circuit Court of Appeals granted David Nguyen at least two weeks to recover from injuries he’d suffered inside his judge’s chambers. There to pamper him during his most stressful times was his loving and caring wife, Verna McReynolds-Nguyen. The couple enjoyed some peace and quietness after their son and daughter were taken away for the weekend by their relatives.
Doctors prescribed him pain medication and suggested he’d stay off his feet for a few days. David and Verna relaxed in the comforts of their estate in the quiet Chicago suburb of Burr Ridge. Verna made sure her husband took his medication on time and checked his temperature and blood pressure at least twice a day. She sort of served in the capacity of being his private duty nurse.
Their love for music had them relaxing to soft tunes. An evening of romance would’ve been great, only if David didn’t suffer injuries from the unexpected tornado.
David took the soft hand of Verna and they interlocked fingers. “Verna, honey, there’s something that I have to tell you.”
Verna worked up one of those worried looks. “Don’t lower the boom on me. You’re not having an affair, are you?”
“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” David disclaimed. “Two weeks before my graduation from NYU, right before I finished up with law school, me and several of my classmates pulled this horrible prank on this nerdy bertie type of guy.”
“What horrible prank?”
“First of all, this guy was a twenty-five year old virgin. He wanted to get laid and we were willing to help him out. The wealthy guy who planned the whole thing from the beginning, he rented out this crappy motel in the South Bronx. He and some others put this mechanical sex doll in the bed with a whole lot of maggots.”
“David!” Verna grunted. “You guys didn’t do such a thing.”
“Let me finish telling you,” David signaled to Verna. “Two of my classmates brought him to the motel thinking he was finally going to get laid. Anyway, he was led over to the bed believing that some gorgeous woman was underneath the covers. He pulled the covers back and found out that some mechanical sex doll covered in maggots was under there.”
“You guys were cruel, David. How could you do such a horrible thing?”
“Just having some fun before graduation. Afterall, you only live once.”
“You call that fun? Cruel and unjust is what it was.”
David giggled hard from just thinking about it. “Boy, we laughed our bones out of place.”
“Don’t you feel any type of remorse?”
“No, not really.”
“Where’s your standards of morality?”
David switched from humor to being serious. “Honey, I’ll tell you what I do feel. It’s a high level of curiosity. When we walked out the room laughing our heads off our shoulders, he warned us about something.”
“What’d he warn you about?”
“He promised us, that what we’d done to him, it would come back to bite us in the backside.”
“Did you take heed to what he said?”
“Not at the time.”
“Do you take heed to it now?”
All matters of seriousness faltered upon the face of David. “Yes, I believe what we did to him, it’d eventually come back to bite all of us in the backside.”
“Now, I’m curious.”
“About what?”
“What was your part in the prank?”
“I provided the soft love music to kinda put him in the mood.”
“Like the beautiful love music that we’re listening to now?”
“Exactly.”
“The nerdy virgin that you guys pulled the prank on, what was his name?”
“Stuart Duffelmeyer.”
“Jewish guy?”
“Bonafide Jewish.”
“Where was he from?”
“From right there in Staten Island.”
“So, he was a New Yorker?”
“That he was.”
“Honey, you look quite concerned.”
“What happened to me in my chambers has got me thinking.”
“Thinking about what?”
“What’s the chance of a tornado bursting into a judge’s chambers, then snatching you up and hanging you upside down by your feet?”
“Ask yourself this question: ‘What’s the chance of anyone believing your story in the first place?’”
“One in five-hundred million.”
“Yes, those are the odds.”
“Not to mention getting popped upside the head and face by baseball-sized hail. When that tornado slammed me against the shelves, then the sharp metal knobs piercing me in my butt, that gave me something to think about.”
“About what you guys did to that Stuart Duffelmeyer fella?”
“Yes, the biggest nerd of the Twenty-First Century.”
“Do you suspect he had something to do with the tornado invading your chambers?”
“Verna, if I could answer that question, I’d be the most brilliant man of the century. Strange enough, the tornado told me that it’d been sent by it’s master to plague me.”
“A talking tornado?” Verna snickered, feeling her husband might’ve been hallucinating.
“This crazy gust of powerful winds kept talking about it’s master.”
“Master? What master?”
“That’s the million dollar question that needs a billion dollar answer.”
“But, tornadoes don’t talk.”
“This one did.”
“You’re making it sound like some fanstasy story.”
“This was more like a reality story.”
“Your story couldn’t be no more crazier than the story in New York about the giant talking rats.”
“This story I didn’t hear about.”
“Well, a group of investment bankers claim that rats the size of football players attacked them inside a condominium in New York. Then, these gang members in Miami claim they were attacked by a buncha glowing killer bees from outer space.”
Every window inside the Nguyen home burst open with force. Brawny winds, David nor Verna not seeming to know where they came from, shot through at speeds of over a hundred miles per hour. From upstairs to downstairs, the winds toppled over furniture and blew photos and paintings off the walls. Door slammed back and forth. Fixtures on the chandeliers rattled. The Nguyen couple knew a force of nature had entered their home.
“David, what’s going on?” Verna asked, holding on to the side of the living room sofa to keep from falling on her back.
“I don’t know, Verna!” David shouted over the howling winds, trying to keep himself from suffering further injuries.
A tornado took shape at the middle of the living room floor. The winds surrounding it swirled at high speeds. Major Joezer had made his presence known.
The middle section of Major Joezer opened up to form a mouthpiece. “David, have you not thought about the proposition that I presented to you in your chambers?”
Looking rather hysterical, David replied by saying, “Proposition? What are you talking about?”
“To apologize to my master.”
“Who’s your master?”
“You must be informed, the secrets of the Universe will not permit me to reveal who my master is.”
“Then, how can I apologize to someone that I don’t even know?”
“You know my master very well.”
David grabbed an expensive vail from the table. He launched it at Major Joezer. “You go to hell! I’m not apologizing to your master for anything. Now, go back and tell him what I said.”
Major Joezer caused a sudden downpour of basketball-sized hail. The huge chunks of hail pounded into the floor and walls. The impact caused considerable damage to their property. The ceiling suffered big holes from in the middle.
“Listen to me good, David,” Major Joezer spoke greatly with authority. “Before it’s all said and done, you will come crawling on your hands and knees to beg for my master’s forgiveness.”
“That will never happen,” David assured the mysterious tornado.
Major Joezer increased its winds to over two-hundred miles per hour. A big bolt of lightning crashed through the other half of the ceiling and caused further damage. In terms of dollars and cents, the Nguyen couple would be out of lots of money. Poor David just wouldn’t let go of his pride.
His stubbornness caused his family much pain and misery.
Major Joezer bolted through the front door and disappeared into the clear Chicago skies. Verna stood aside and watched everything. She heard every word spoken by Major Joezer. Did she now believe that tornadoes talked?
“Look at the mess in this house!” Verna complained, looking around at the serious damage.
“Never will I apologize to his master!” David stubbornly grumbled, angry since he couldn’t fight the forces of nature.
“Honey, the tornado destroying our house is bad karma coming back for you.”
David kicked the side of the sofa. “Look, I don’t wanna hear none of this witchcraft-sorcery crap! His master, I sorta got an idea who he is.”
“Who, Stuart Duffelmeyer?”
“Doesn’t matter to me. If my life depended on it, I’m never apologizing to anyone for anything.”
“Did you ever stop and think Stuart’s playing games with you?”
“So what if he is.”
“Did it ever occur to you that he possess powers to make your life hell?”
“It’s like a riddle he’s making me try and solve.”
David sure talked tough. If only he knew the mighty powers he came up against, he’d hurry up and offer Stuart the biggest apology. Time would be the only factor to determine if he’d loosen the grip of being bullheaded.


CHAPTER—40

BATS ON THE ATTACK

Prudence Cundy enjoyed many career options after she graduated from the NYU Steinhardt’s childhood education program. She also enjoyed life as a single woman with no children. The choice to stay single and childless was predicated on her ideals of self-sufficiency. Women having no desire to spend their lives with a man and raise children were commonplace in the Twenty-First Century.
Prudence often bragged to her lady friends how earning her master’s degree, owning a three bedroom home, a brand new car, having thousands put away in a 401K plan, and spending time with her four cats, was all she needed to make herself happy. Did lonesomeness strike on short notices? Not according to Prudence. She went to the movies and out to dinner all by herself. She shopped and traveled alone.
Her career as a fourth grade teacher at Fairview Charter School alleviated some of the loneliness she experienced at home. Working at a school where the parents gave it a five out of five stars brought a sense of pride into the life of Prudence. Fairview having active parent participation boasted an elementary school full of mannerable children. The school’s state standardized tests were splendid. The two thirty afternoon bell rung for classes to resume.
Inside a classroom at Fairview Charter School on Kinnickinnic River Parkway in Milwaukee, Prudence stood before a classroom of orderly fourth graders. Wearing her two-piece blue wool suit projected the air of a scholarly woman. Today would be the day Prudence had her students learning math curriculums like exercises, worksheets, and assessements. She passed out a worksheet with circles and boxes. A long white sheet was pulled down which matched her student’s worksheets.
“Okay class,” Prudence rasped, holding a long wooden yardstick. “Today, we are going to learn more about fractions. Are you guys ready to dive further into solving fractions?”
“Yes, Miss Cundy,” the children responded in unison.
“In fractions, what is the number five known as?”
“The numerator,” answered at least two-thirds of the classroom.
“And the number eight?”
“The denominator,” answered almost the entire classroom.
Prudence used her yardstick to point to a fraction. “Class, how much is this fraction?”
Seconds passed before the kids answered. “Five-eights, Miss Cundy.”
She pointed to a total of eight circles. “Now, I want you to use your blue pencils to color in the number of circles and squares to show a fraction of five-eights.”
The students were given a solid minute to figure out the answer.
Prudence went around to every student’s desk. Proudly, she noticed how every one of her students got the answer right.
“Okay students, how many boxes out of the eight should be colored in?”
“Five, Miss Cundy.”
“Great!” she cheered on her students. “Now, what is two-fourths equivalent to?”
“One-half, Miss Cundy.”
“Four-sixths?”
“Two-thirds, Miss Cundy.”
“Six-tenths?”
“Three-fifths, Miss Cundy.”
“Wow!” Prudence applauded her fourth graders, patting her chest while nodding her head. “You guys are so smart. I know that I’m in the midst of a bunch of geniuses.”
She pulled down another long white sheet and pointed to a set of more fractions. “What does one-half plus one-half equal?”
“One, Miss Cundy.”
“What does one-eights plus one-eights equal to?”
“One-fourth, Miss Cundy.”
“Two-thirds plus one-third?”
“One, Miss Cundy.”
“Superb!” Prudence said flabbergastingly. “My, you whiz kids have really been studying. Just know that Miss Cundy is so very proud of you guys.”
Stopping at her door and parking his chubby body to the side was the principal of Fairview Charter School. Dudley Blount wasn’t the most desirable man walking the planet.
Add up the fact he had a big pork belly, a bald head straight down the middle, wore thick tri-focals, splashed on the cheapest cologne in the morning, and dressed in the most outdated clothes, maybe it was no wonder he never got married or went out on dates.
Prudence put her lesson on hold to step out in the hallway. “Mr. Blount, how are you today?”
“Fine, Prudence,” Principal Blount said. “How are your lessons going today?”
“Well, it’s fractions today. My kids are so smart.”
“Learning is what it’s all about. Say, I wanted to ask you something rather serious.”
“And what might that be?”
“Are you dating anyone?”
Prudence snuffed out the fact he wanted to ask her out on a date. “No, but I’m-----.”
“Prudence Cundy,” Principal Blount rudely interrupted. “I’m asking you out on a date.”
“Principal Blount, I don’t think it would be appropriate for us to date one another.”
“Where does the factor of it not being appropriate come in?”
“For starters, we’re colleagues. Plus, I’ve made it a rule to not date anyone I work with.”
“There’re no rules saying we can’t date.”
The principal might’ve been coming on way too strong. Women simply didn’t find him attractive. He read Prudence wrong and needed to back off.
“Principal Blount, I’m just not in to dating right now. My career and home are my number one priorities.”
“Alright, have it your way. But, I’m not the kinda guy who gives up so easy.”
Prudence raised her arm to stare down at her watch. “Well, it’s a couple’a minutes away from three o’clock. I have to get back to my students.”
She hurried back into the classroom and shut the door with offense.
Principal Blount was the most bothersome man in the world. Besides, he also had breath bad enough to drive forth a herd of disorderly cattle. The three o’clock bell rung and school was out at Fairview Charter School.
Prudence escorted all of her students out the classroom one-by-one. “Class, remember that tomorrow it will be multiplication and division.”
The fourth graders were cleared out of the classroom. Everything broke into a dead silence. Prudence tore down the used white sheets and balled them up to go into the trash. With no forewarning, the door slammed. This shook her up to the point of backing up against the chalkboard. Strong winds mixed with gloomy lighting dominated the classroom. She slid her back further along the chalkboard.
Little dark brown creatures squeezed between the cracks of the ceiling and the chalkboard. Some bogarted their way through the cracks of the door. Within seconds, hundreds of the little flying creatures claimed ownership her classroom. Before her very eyes, Prudence watched the tiny creatures quickly grow into colossal-sized, big brown bats. Witnessing the supernatural transformation nearly took her breath away.
Throwing and kicking desks out of his way was Captain Zamir. A shield of fluorescent brown radiated from around his bat wings. Intimidating colors of reddish-brown flared from his eyes. The captain opened his mouth and displayed a pair of blustery fangs. Other human-sized bats flew around the head of Prudence.
“Prudence Cundy!” shouted Captain Zamir, hissing at her with his razor-sharp fangs.
Prudence cuddled over in the corner. She was scared out of her senses. “Who are you and what do you want with me?”
“I have been sent by my master.”
“Who is your master?”
“You know my master very well,” Captain Zamir spoke, his voice that of intrigue.
“But, I thought you bats only lived in the Neda Mines in Dodge County.”
“Not us bats, Prudence. We’re big, we’re bad, and we’re bold. And most of all, we’re the best. Our master has sent us to plague you.”
“Plague me for what!” Prudence cried out, trying hard to shield herself from any attacks.
“For your acts of evil and disobedience.”
“Never have I done anything evil or disobedient.”
“Yes you have!” Captain Zamir yelled in rage, intensity growing in his eyes. “Until you bring forth an esteemed offer of apology to my master, then will you continue to suffer the unspeakable horrors of being plagued by me and the colony.”
“Apology for what?”
“For making my master suffer.”
“But still, you haven’t told me who your master is,” Prudence yearned, shivering over in the corner like a frightened child.
Captain Zamir jerked his head from side-to-side. Foam sifted around the classroom. “The secrets of the Universe will not permit me to reveal who my master is.”
“This has gotta be one bad dream.”
“No, Prudence, you are very much awake.”
“But, bats don’t talk.”
“But, this bat does.”
“You made my master suffer, now you have to suffer, too.”
“Suffer for what?”
“I can show you better than I can tell you.”
Captain Zamir darted towards Prudence with the use of his glowing flapping wings. The Captain used the strong claws on his feet to lift her up and fly with her around the room.
Prudence screamed and kicked while being flown from one corner to the next. “Put me down! Put me down!”
“Are you sure you want me to put you down?” Captain Zamir jokingly asked.
“Please, put me down!”
“Alright, have it your way.”
Captain Zamir flew closer to the ceiling. He dropped Prudence on top of a desk. The landing was hard and painful. She laid stretched out across the desk with her backside heisted in the air. The captain used his moist tongue to lick his dagger-like fangs. Like aiming straight for a bullseye, he charged down at Prudence. Both of his fangs sliced right into her fleshy backside. Only a small amount of blood soaked into the wool fabric of her skirt.
“Shhhhhhhhhhhh!” Prudence hollered, grabbing both sides of her rear.
“Ain’t we having fun now, Prudence,” Captain Zamir laughed, he and his colony flying in circles around Prudence.
“Is this how you get your kicks?”
“Your evil ways and disobedience has come back to bite you in the backside.”
Captain Zamir had two of his colony members stand her up straight. He swung his wings at her and slapped her on both sides of her face.
“Remember this, Prudence,” the Captain said. “Until you offer an esteemed apology to my master, you will continue to be plagued by myself and my colony. Whether it be here, at work, or at home, the plagues will never stop.”
“You can go to hell!” Prudence crackled, holding her backside to try and ease the pain.
The Captain licked his fangs again and hissed in the face of Prudence. “Before we’re all done, I promise you, that you’ll come crawling on your hands and knees to beg for my master’s forgiveness.”
“Hell will freeze over.”
“Have it your way, Prudence.”
Captain Zamir and his colony flew out of the school’s windows. They disappeared into the mild Milwaukee skies. Prudence was left bent over one of the desks. She cried herself into oblivion. Her stubbornness would prove damaging in the end.


CHAPTER—41

CITY OF CAPITALIST KINGPINS

Washington, D.C. would’ve been the last city in the United States that Stuart thought he’d end up. His father, Harry Duffelmeyer, fought a long and mildly-destructive war against politicians. Those capitalist kingpins charged that Harry got too big in the real estate game which led him to cheat on his taxes. Politicians weren’t exactly Stuart’s favorite type of people. Their codes of morality weren’t up to standard as far as he was concerned.
Deceive the people. Get in office. Make as much money as quickly as you can. Stuart believed those were the mandates politicians lived by. People needed someone to believe in. They had to vote for someone at election time. It was always a choice between the lesser or the greater of two evils. On either side, they knew they’d get screwed in the end. The special interest groups who ran the U.S. in the first place were the true winners at the end of the day.
It came as no surprise when Stuart picked out the finest of five star hotels in every city he traveled to. Washington, D.C. was no different. The Grand Hyatt Washington would be the spot where he decided to take up temporary residency. He didn’t mind shelling out over a thousand dollars a night for a king room at the Grand Hyatt. Glancing around the room, Stuart felt refreshed from the contemporary décor and stunning views of the serene interior atrium and lagoon of the city.
Stuart considered himself a discerning traveler. He stepped into the bathroom and just loved seeing the gold and marble fixtures around the bathtub and shower. Thirsty terry towels and scented soaps adorned the bathroom with elegance. Dual line telephones with voicemail, a coffeemaker, AM/FM clock radio, high speed wireless internet, cable/satellite TV channels, an iron and hair dryer, and individual air-conditioning with heating controls, they were all the amenities that Stuart enjoyed from the privileges of being a Duffelmeyer.
The cell phone inside his black travel bag sounded off with his favorite ringtone.
Stuart slipped it out and answered in his composed voice. “Stuart Duffelmyer speaking.”
“Stuart, my love?” Laura chirped through her phone. “Stuart, where are you now?”
“In Washington, D.C.”
“Don’t want to sound like I’m already your wife, but what’s going on in Washington?”
“Actually, it’s the last stop that I have to make before heading back to New York.”
“Thank God!” Laura emancipated, turning loose a wind of relief. “I’ve dubbed you as the ‘traveling all-star’.”
“You can take out the all-star. I’m just a plain old guy who lives a routine life.”
“So, does Washington have something going on dealing with your pet stores and vet clinics?”
“Has a lot going on when it comes to my businesses.”
“Stuart, I really look forward to seeing you.”
“Likewise, Laura.”
“You stay on my mind night and day. Never, I mean never, have I met someone as wonderful as you.”
“Shhhhhhhhhh!” Stuart fizzled. “Don’t say that too loud. There are many who’ll beg to differ with you.”
“They don’t matter, Stuart. What matters is that I see you when you get back to New York.”
Stuart paused for a moment to look out the window at the beautiful atrium. A smile big enough to light up the Washington Monument faltered onto his face.
“Stuart?” Laura wailed through the phone.
“Yes, Laura, I’m still here. I’m enjoying the breathtaking view of this hotel.”
“Will I meet your parents when you get back to New York?”
“Yes, you can meet Mr. and Mrs. Harry and Isabel Duffelmeyer.”
“Great!”
“As soon as I can get them to come up from Florida. Both of them being retirees, they hardly ever like leaving the sunshine state.”
“But, don’t your parents own goob gobs of real estate in New York?”
“That they do. But, they’re just like other people. Once they build their empires, they usually entrust others to run their businesses for them.”
“Must be nice.”
“Yes, it’s nice when you’ve busted your butt all your life to build wealth from nothing.”
“It feels good going from nothing to something.”
“Especially when you work hard for it.”
“Listen, do you need someone to pick you up from the airport when you get back to New York?”
“Yes, that would be nice.”
“Are you flying into JFK or LaGuardia?”
“LaGuardia, more than likely. Well, I have to get ready to embark upon another business venture.”
“Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer, you’re someone special.”
“Laura Rivenburg, you’re someone special, too.”
“See ya back in New York.”
“New York City it is.”
“Bye.”
“Bye bye.”
Stuart hung up and went into the bathroom to freshen up for his upcoming trip. The scented soaps and potpourri delighted his allure of smell. While spreading a special soap all over his face, the spiritual figure of Rabbi Irwin Wedemeyer appeared once again. The bright celestial glow gave the bathroom a more divine atmosphere.
“Stuart, my beloved son,” spoke the soft, spiritually-inclined voice of Rabbi Wedemeyer. “Will Washington, D.C. be the last American city that you will embark upon?”
“Yes, it will, Rabbi Wedemeyer, my beloved father,” Stuart humbly replied.
“The wonderful young lady, is she still winning over your heart?”
“Yes, Rabbi Wedemeyer. Laura has the master key to my heart. You always told me growing up as a little boy, that love was a many splendor thing.”
“My son, love is splendid and marvelous. It brings about the true essence of life.”
“She’s a special kind of girl.”
“Will the city of Washington, D.C. be the last city in which you will seek vengeance against another person who has violated you?”
“Yes, it will.”
“My son, you are in a city of corrupt, immoral people.”
“The capital for capitalists, special interest hoodlums to say the least.”
“You have covered thousands of miles in your quest to seek out your revenge. After covering thousands of miles in area, and several months in time frame, you have activated the supernatural powers from the Universe to work through several creatures and elements. Stuart, I was once your Earthly father, and have now become your spiritual father. As I was once chief rabbi of the biggest synagogue, I know that you have a pure heart. The eight NYU college students who violated you will learn the principles of treating others as they want to be treated. Your works through the creatures and elements have proven beneficial to mankind.”
“Rabbi Wedemeyer, I do not seek to harm any person. The so-called harm brought upon the group I call the ‘egomaniacal eight’, will certainly teach them to love and care for others like they’d care for themselves. The creatures and elements of this Earth that have been ordained with Universal powers, they have engaged in acts of bravery and integrity.”
“Since the inception of their consecrated powers, they have saved human lives.”
“Their works are commendable, Rabbi Wedemeyer.”
The cosmic glow around the spiritual form of Rabbi Wedemeyer intensified. “My son, I have made this trip to Earth this time to warn you.”
“Warn me about what?”
“A meteorite crater of great magnitude is heading straight for Earth.”
“Rabbi, does this meteorite crater not travel through space at this given time?”
“Stuart, my beloved son, evil of abominable horrors will bring scourge to the Earth.”
“How do you know this?”
“The tranquil forces of the Universe have been disturbed.”
“Can anything be done to stop this meteorite?”
“If those with universally-ordained powers stand guard around the galaxies, only then can this meteorite crater be intercepted. My son, it is millions of light years away right now, but it is traveling at speeds where it can still hit the Earth in the coming weeks.”
“Rabbi Wedemeyer, we can’t let that happen!”
“You will be enlightened on what occurs in the future.”
“Thank you, Rabbi.”
“Before you leave Washington, D.C., you will see me again.”
“Again, where?”
“Surprises can be so delightful.”
“Where will we see one another again?”
“You’ll see.”
The spiritual form of Rabbi Wedemeyer dissolved from the reflection of the mirror. Stuart splashed water on his face and dried off with a thick face towel. A long trip indeed was in front of him.


CHAPTER—42

WILD WINDS, RACING RAINS, AND WRATHFUL WATERS

Stuart flashed his platinum Master Card, and once again, he rode off in minutes behind the wheel of a Lexus IS 350C convertible. Nextcar of Washington, D.C. ran him through the computer. It didn’t take long for them to know that big dollar signs were behind the Duffelmeyer name. Clerks at Nextcar explained to him about additional drivers fees, taxes, and fuel charges being extra. This only stirred up his sense of humor.
The weekly charge of $170.00 suited him fine. The silverish polish of the Lexus produced reflections of the tourist attractions he drove around. Like other big cities he’d traveled to, the dollar-sign eyes of the young women couldn’t resist staring at the fancy automobile he drove. Behind the wheel of the expensive Lexus was a young man with strangely good looks and eminent intelligence. But, they would notice the car over him.
Stuart cruised up to the front gates of the White House and parked. Where was the President of the United States? If he was in the White House, what was he in there doing? Could Stuart get one of the security personnel to go inside the White House and tell the President that he wanted to see him? Those were the questions that bounced around inside Stuart’s brain. He nodded his head and just drove off. A drive down 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue took him through a journey in time since parades, processions, and protest marches made history near there.
The commuter route took him over to the United States Capitol. The group of congressmen, senators, governors, and other politicians proudly walked atop Capitol Hill near the eastern end of the National Mall. Stuart took a moment to dissect through their cunning smiles and expensive suits. Demeanors of deceit and greed explained the manner in which they walked and whispered over to one another. Growing up, his father, Harold Duffelmeyer, told him how some of the biggest crimes in U.S. history were committed right up there on Capitol Hill.
Harold taught his son that if you wanted to find a criminal without a criminal record, then search around the steps and hallways and byways of Capitol Hill. Stuart cruised on past the Lincoln and Jefferson Memorials, Smithsonian Museum, Washington Monument, Supreme Court of the United States, and the National World War II Memorial. But, it wasn’t until he came to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum on Raoul Wallenberg Place SW, that he’d been hit with strong inclinations about his ancestors who suffered during the Holocaust of World War II.
Stuart’s grandfather, Baron Duffelmeyer, confronted hatred, faced genocide, promoted human dignity, and strengthened democracy amongst his people. A huge spiritual configuration of Rabbi Wedemeyer’s face toppled a commanding glow around the roof of the Holocaust Museum. Stuart hadn’t expected to see the spirit of the Rabbi until he returned to New York.
“Rabbi Wedemeyer?” Stuart spoke with amazement, staring at the very top of the building.
“Didn’t I tell you that we’d see one another again before you left Washington, D.C.”
“You did.”
“Stuart, my son,” Rabbi Wedemeyer said, his spiritual voice carrying strong vibrations. “As a young man of Jewish Holocaust survivors, you are indebted to your ancestors to visit inside the museum.”
“Yes, you are correct, Rabbi Wedemeyer. My grandfather, Baron Duffelmeyer, and his family, survived the attacks of the Nazi Germans. Before I embark upon my journey outside Washington, D.C., I will visit inside the museum.”
“Well done, my son. My ancestors, too, were brutalized by the Nazis.”
The glowing spirit of Rabbi Wedemeyer dissolved into the partly cloudy skies of Washington, D.C. Stuart purchased a ticket and went inside for an experience of a lifetime. Experiencing it in person was captivating beyond words. He strolled through the museum looking at images and wartime films of how Nazi Germany caused such devastation to the beloved Jewish people. Clothes worn inside the brutal concentration camps were hung on display. Numerous exhibits showing the Nazi assaults caused Stuart to shed some light tears for his people.
Torahs that were desecrated were enclosed inside glass cases. Newspapers from around the United States were also on display to show the terror the Nazis spread throughout Europe. The ovens where bodies were burned were proof how brutal the Jewish people were treated. Stuart walked up and placed a flat hand on one of the ovens. To think how one of his very ancestors could’ve been burned inside one of the ovens brought more tears to his eyes.
Stuart lit a candle before leaving to memorialize all the Jews who tragically lost their lives. He rushed out of the museum and jumped back inside the convertible Lexus.
At a time when traffic wasn’t too bad, he used Interstate 95 to drive out of the Washington, D.C. city limits. In just over four hours, the Lexus ate up enough highway miles to make it to Durham, North Carolina. The trip couldn’t’ve been sweeter since the rented car got good gas mileage and certain radio stations accompanied him with pleasant music. Stuart stopped at a convenience store in Durham to fill up and coat his stomach with a warm meal.
After several more miles of driving through North Carolina, he ended up in the uninhabited barrier section of Portsmouth Island. He finally made it to the southwest-to-northeast part of the North Carolina shore. How sweet it was to be standing alone at the Atlantic Ocean and Pamlico Sound.
Breezes blowing off the ocean bathed his face with mists of cool Atlantic water. The Ocracoke Inlet was the precise location Stuart wanted to be. Before making any moves, he heard the cranking noises of hard wood from out on the ocean. Cargo vessels from the Eighteenth Century appeared from out of nowhere. The ghosts of captains and their faithful seamen sailed towards the abandoned port of entry. The giant vessel charged right into banks to where Stuart hadn’t moved.
“Aren’t you guys from post-Revolutionary America?” Stuart inquired from the ghost of the captain.
“Aye, mate, that we are,” replied the spiritual make up of the captain.
“This port hasn’t been active for almost three centuries. What do you and your shipmates want here?”
“Mate, we needed somewhere to haunt.”
“So, you chose Portsmouth Island?”
“Listen mate, when we were in the human flesh like you, this was one of the biggest port of entries along the Atlantic Coast.”
“What happened?”
“Hurricanes messed up our shipping traffic.”
“Sorry about that.”
“Well, there’s nothing better for us to do than haunt this port.”
“Can you tell me something?”
“Anything for you, mate.”
“When’s the next hurricane coming through?”
“One should be coming through rather shortly.”
“How soon is rather shortly?”
“Be patient, you’ll see.”
Stuart smiled at the captain before his vessel disappeared within a matter of seconds. The ghosts of people from the past weren’t a figment of his imagination. The characters from the spiritual world were gone and it was time to get down to business. Stuart pulled the magical talisman from underneath his T-shirt.
He closed his eyes and rubbed the magical Hebrew letters on the talisman. The skies above the Atlantic Ocean parted and the clouds darkened. Towering waves out on the Atlantic roared and pounded around the coast of Portsmouth Island. Winds in excess of over two-hundred miles an hour blew all around Stuart.
Warm ocean air and warm ocean water mixed together and created the essential ingredients of a mammoth hurricane. Thunderstorms along the west coast of Africa converged with the warm ocean waters near Portsmouth. The ravages of a huge hurricane swept Stuart off the ground.
The vapors of warm water and cool air caused him to feel the effects. Spiraling wind patterns had him fighting to breathe normal. The forces of nature were no joke. Stuart knew the respect it commanded. The center of the hurricane formed a swirling around it like a drain. An opening like an eye told him they were in harmony with one another. Immediately, Stuart and the hurricane sent telepathic messages back and forth to one another. The behemoth winds and vapor pressure calmed down. The lines of communication were now open.
Stuart swallowed some of the fine mists from the Atlantic hurricane. “From this day forward, you will be addressed as Colonel Boaz. The Hebrew word ‘Boaz’ means swift and strong. With the Universal powers invested in you, you will be swift and strong to rescue those in need. Do you understand your new name?”
“Yes, master, I understand my new name.”
“Colonel Boaz, your powers have been fully-activated. Welcome to the fantastic family of Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer.”
“Thank you, master.”
Colonel Boaz loosened its grip and gently placed Stuart back on the grounds of Portsmouth Island. The strong winds and condensation of the latent heat subsided. The belligerent waves from the Atlantic Ocean resumed to normal. The skies closed up while the clouds brightened. Surroundings at Portsmouth Island looked no different. Stuart wiped some of the ocean mist from his face and sped off in the Lexus convertible.


CHAPTER—43

HARD HITTING HURRICANE

Many residents living in the Washington, D.C. area have always said that where you lived in the city said a lot about who you were. John O’Connor and his wife Susan were some of the first ones to make a statement by moving into The Dumont condominiums over on Fourth and Massachusetts Avenue. Incomparable elegance and first-class amenities were the sophistications they enjoyed from their hard-earned success.
John met Susan while both were doing internships at Children’s National Medical Center there in Washington. Since graduating from NYU’s School of Medicine for Pediatric Cardiology, he sought opportunities in the nation’s capital. Susan graduated from Boston University’s School of Medicine and also decided to head to Washington to pursue her career as a pediatrician.
During their tenure as hospital residents, they dated and would soon fall in love. Their love for one another fueled the passion to become engaged. The engagement soon led to marriage. Two sons, four year old John O’Connor, Jr., and three year old James O’Connor, became additions to their family. John got exactly what he wanted. Two sons were always his dream, every since he was a little boy himself growing up on the upper east side of Manhattan. John and Susan felt their lives were complete with their family and careers.
Their boys were happy to have the rooftop pool with sweeping views of the DC monuments. Playing with other kids who resided at The Dumont brought joy to their parents. If their kids were happy, they were happy. John and Susan enjoyed retreats with their boys around the beautifully landscaped courtyard.
The sanctuary of nature brought them moments of peace to read a novel or enjoy the greenery of the flowers. When John Jr. and James were attended to by the nanny, the O’Connors snuck away to work out with the premium cardio equipment of the twenty-four hour fitness center.
John loved living only blocks away from the Capitol. Susan was delighted to live in the indulgence of the most powerful address on the triangle. John and Susan took on the daunting task of being a part of an internationally recognized team of pediatric healthcare professionals. Their team cared for more than 360,000 patients each year. Fifty million dollars in uncompensated care was provided by Children’s National Medical Center.
John proved his worth by becoming one of the top cardiac physicians in the Children’s Cardiac Intensive Care Unit. Dually board certified in pediatric cardiology and pediatric critical care medicine, the life of an infant was in the hands of him and his surgical staff. Inside the operating room, the doctors and nurses were desperate to save the life of a two month old infant suffering from ventricular septal defect. A Desflurance anesthetic agent was administered.
The mounted surgical lights beamed strongly down on the surgical equipment being passed to John and other pediatric physicians. The integrated breathing system management of the electronic ventilator kept the infant stable. John used the powerful fiberoptic illumination of the opthamology microscopes to see deep within the left and right ventricles of the baby girl’s ventricular septum. Acutely, blood rushed through the stout walls which separated the lower chambers of her heat.
“Our patient is losing a normal heart rate!” John barked to his surgical team.
“Too much blood is leaking from the left ventricle into the right ventricle,” observed one of the top pediatric nurses.
“If the blood reaches the patient’s lungs, then she probably won’t make it.”
“We might have to perform a Median sternotomy.”
“Nurse, there’s barely a heartbeat!”
“Dr. O’Connor, the right ventricle has clogged with more blood.”
Seconds inside the operating room were precious. John and his team had many options to saving the baby’s life. Which life-saving method to use was their biggest concern. Incidentally, the monitor displayed no heartbeat. Had the two month old baby died while under their care?
Not if the divine intervention of the Universe had its say. The bright surgical lights were drowned out by an even brighter light which cut through the ceiling. The doctors and nurses were lifted off the ground and suspended in mid-air by gravitational forces from the cosmos.
The deceased two month old was lifted off the operating table and also suspended in the air. A stream of cool ocean water and air came from under the door. The excess blood clogging the right ventricle of her precious heart was sucked out by the air and intermingled with the fresh ocean water. The blood caused the water to form a pinkish color.
Some of the water washed out all the infection. The wondrous forces of the Universe lowered the baby back down on the operating table. Loud cries from the infant filled the whole room. She cried as though she’d just been born into the world. John and the rest of his surgical team descended back to the floor. They just couldn’t believe what happened. A stream of Gulf Coast water measuring about six gallons had done their jobs for them.
“Did you all see what happened in here?” John asked his medical colleagues, all of them stunned from disbelief.
The surgical team shook their heads at the same time.
“Where did that water come from?” John questioned, looking around and not seeing one wet spot in the emergency room.
The surgical team silently replied with more movement of their heads.
“Long hours here at the hospital may be a bit too much for me.”
Standing right outside the surgery room without being noticed was Stuart. John came towards the door to make his exit. Stuart camouflaged himself behind a group of nurses going down the hallway. The infant survived and it really brightened up his day.
Susan O’Connor had no idea her husband spent extra hours at the hospital only to spend time with a dangerously beautiful clinical dietician specialist named Marissa Halifax. Talk about true beauty. Marissa had doctors from one corridor of the pediatric hospital to the next trying to date her. These doctors offered her money and gifts. She refused all of them. They offered her promotions within the hospital, and still, she refused them.
How did John get so lucky? His mouthpiece, bank account, and masculine magnetism were the goods to win her over. With the blinds shut, the door locked, the phone turned off, and lights turned down low, John and Marissa decided to have a late night rendezvous inside his office.
Their bodies pressed together while their lips smacked. They took a break from sucking face in order to catch their breath. Steam was sure generated from them exchanging saliva.
“Whew!” John huffed, fanning himself to cool off. “When I look at you, I’m looking at a masterpiece.”
“Consider yourself lucky, Johnny Boy,” Marissa nipped with arrogance, patting her curly brown hair back in place.
“Sure, I’m real lucky.”
“With all these doctors around here wanting me, you took home the prize, baby.”
“Can’t argue with you on that. Julius Caesar would’ve given up the Roman Empire for you.”
“I saw your wife today.”
“Where?”
“Down by endocrinology.”
“She finds out that we’re messing around, that’ll be my one way ticket to the poorhouse.”
“Your wife doesn’t have to find out. I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”
“You’ve got a deal.”
John and Marissa came back together to revive their body pressing and lip smacking. Small drops of water fell from the ceiling. More drops seeped through the cracks of the door and the windows.
John went over to the windows and peeked between the blinds. “Where’s that water coming from? It isn’t raining outside.”
“Are there holes in the roof?” Marissa asked, skipping from one side of the office to the next.
“No way does this hospital have holes in the roof.”
“John, I’ll see you later.”
Marissa sprinted over to the door. She found the lock wouldn’t turn.
“Who locked the door?”
“You can’t get out?”
“No, I’ve jerked on the knob several times.”
“The door can be locked from the inside and the outside.”
“Who’s playing tricks, John?”
“I don’t know.”
Winds in excess of over a hundred miles blew in between the door and window cracks. The drops of water joined together and formed a tiny hurricane inside John’s office. The forceful winds picked John off the ground and slammed him against the wall. Marissa got sucked up to the ceiling. Her body remained pressed to the crumbling tiles. The frames of pictures and certificates were blown off the walls and smashed into pieces.
Colonel Boaz made his presence known to John O’Connor. “John, have you not learned your lesson yet?”
“What lesson is that?” John answered, the mighty winds having deprived him of normal oxygen.
“You have violated the codes of morality. You made my master suffer, now you have to suffer.”
“Who are you?”
“I have been sent by my master to be a plague upon you.”
“Who’s your master?”
“The secrets of the Universe will not permit me to reveal who my master is.”
“I don’t understand, there are no hurricanes in Washington, D.C.”
“You weren’t meant to understand the true laws of nature.”
“This has gotta be one bad dream.”
“Your evil ways and disobedience have come back to bite you in the backside.”
“But, hurricanes don’t talk.”
“No, this hurricane does talk.”
Colonel Boaz used the power of its winds and water to throw John all around his office. The colonel threw him around like a boomerang. His face, hands, chest, and legs, they crashed hard against the wall. Slinging nearly ten gallons of water at him, John felt the stinging impact crash into his backside.
“Errrrrrrrrrrh!” John screamed, clutching his tender rear with both hands.
Yes, once again, Stuart meant exactly what he said. What they’d done to him would come back to bite them in the backside. John O’Connor was no exception.
Colonel Boaz pitched a bucketful of water at John and it smacked him dead in his face. “John, you will come crawling on your hands and knees to beg for the forgiveness of my master.”
“Why won’t you tell me who your master is?”
“At this present time, you do not need to know who my master is.”
Colonel Boaz calmed the winds around its hurricane figure and whisked out the window. Marissa climbed up from the floor unharmed. She couldn’t believe what had happened. Not a single drop of water was on the floor. Hurricanes usually left severe flood damage behind. John looked out into the hallway of the hospital. He noticed how nothing was damaged. An unclear message had been sent to him.


CHAPTER—44

GIVE UP OR GIVE IN

Lounging on the soft white sofa of their luxury condominium were John and Susan O’Connor. John took two weeks of paid time to recover from the wounds he’d suffered inside his office at the hospital. Stories of how the miniature hurricane burst inside and knocked around him and his mistress were kept quiet. Marissa Halifax dared not tell any of the hospital employees how John’s office got turned upside down.
Telling co-workers down in the dietician department would’ve possibly leaked out the affair between her and John. As John and Susan rested inside their spacious, light-filled home, their lives exemplified what it meant to live well in Washington. John gazed up at the ten foot ceiling and slipped into a deep trance. The thought of Colonel Boaz interrupting a rare moment of intimacy between him and Marissa put something on his mind.
Susan tapped John on the leg. “Darling, is there something wrong?”
“Just got a few things on my mind,” John retorted, reaching back to pamper his backside.
“Want a cup of tea?”
“That’d be great, honey.”
Susan went into their gourmet kitchen with granite countertops and premium cabinetry to boil some water for their cups of tea. From the side of the chef’s island, she stood motionless while studying her husband. Something wasn’t right with him. Besides him suffering unexplainable wounds inside his physician’s office, it had to be something else. Women weren’t stupid. When their spouses had women on the side, the signs were in place. The water boiled and she prepared two cups of herbal tea.
Susan came back into the front room and placed the piping hot tea before John. “Darling, what really happened inside your office?”
“Haven’t I already told you what happened?” John reminded his sometimes nagging wife, stirring his tea in angry motions.
“One of the nurses showed me your office after the rumbling in there. After I saw you later that day, I don’t know who looked worse, you or the office.”
“Thank you so much for the encouragement.”
“I’m not trying to be insulting. Did you get into a fight with someone?”
“Who would I be fighting in my office?”
“An old enemy?”
“My enemies are few and far and in between.”
“Your office tells a different story. The way you looked after coming out of there, makes me believe a different story.”
“Why don’t you drop it!” John thundered, pitching the spoon across the glass table.
“Alright, if you don’t wanna talk about it, then that’s fine with me.”
John cupped his hand over the shoulder of Susan. “Look, I’m sorry if I snapped on you. I believe that my past has come back to haunt me.”
“Haunt you how?”
“Karma is one bad motor scooter.”
“You’re saying that what happened in your office was bad karma?”
“In every sense of the word.”
“I don’t understand, John.”
“You wouldn’t, Susan.”
On one of the driest and sunniest days in Washington, D.C., water dropped through the ceilings of their condominium in tiny spurts. Through the cracks of the glossy hardwood floors, the tiny spurts turned to gallons. The windows and doorways were no exception.
“John, where’s all this water coming from?” Susan questioned her husband, hopping off the sofa and backing away into the kitchen.
“I don’t know,” John guessed. “Maybe our neighbors upstairs have flooded their place.”
“Impossible,” she rejected. “The apartment above us is empty.”
John stared out the window and looked up to the sky. “There isn’t a cloud in the sky. I don’t see a single drop of rain coming from anywhere.”
Winds at speeds of about a hundred and fifty miles an hour blew strong enough to knock over their expensive amenities. Every drop of water in their condominium clumped together to form a commanding hurricane. The slightest breeze came from nowhere outside. Susan held on for dear life to the side of the chef’s island in the kitchen.
Colonel Boaz made his presence known to the O’Connor couple. “John, have you not thought about the proposal I made to you in your office?”
“What proposal!” John forgot, gripping the edge of the sofa.
“It is an engraved apology that you owe my master.”
“Don’t play games with me. Who is your master?”
“He is one you are very familiar with. Because of your evil disobedience, you are indebted to my master.”
“Like in my office, you’ve come to my home to plague me?”
“Yes, on strict orders given to me. My master has ordered me to plague you once again.”
Colonel Boaz directed its powerful winds and commanding waters over at Susan. “Susan, have you not been told that your husband has been having an affair with another hospital employee?”
“Which hospital employee?” Susan inquired, trying hard to keep from crashing in to something.
“Does the name Marissa Halifax register with you?”
“Marissa Halifax!” she snarled, projecting her burning eyes over at John. “You’ve been having an affair with Marissa Halifax?”
“Susan, don’t listen to this big globbery hunk of wind and water. Somebody has put a voodoo curse on this apartment.”
“Screwing around with the head dietician, huh? Guess that explains why you’ve been coming home much later than you should.”
“Those are nothing but lies.”
“John, you’re nothing but scum!”
“Don’t be deceived by this raw sewage water from the gutters.”
Colonel Boaz pitched several liters of water at John and knocked him flat to the ground. “John, as mentioned to you before, you will come crawling on your hands and knees to beg for the forgiveness of my master.”
“Never, never, never will I apologize to your master. I don’t care if your master is the most powerful man on this Earth.”
“Have it your way, John.”
Colonel Boaz shot through the floor-to-ceiling windows and dissolved into the sunny Washington, D.C. skies. No longer did the strong winds knock over everything inside their condominium. The floors and ceilings were perfectly dry.
Susan released her grip from the edge of the chef’s island. “So, it took a hurricane to come into our home and tell me that you’re having an affair with Marissa Halifax. John, I trusted that you’d take your marriage vows seriously when we first got married.”
“Honey, you mean more to me than anything in the world,” John exaggerated, standing up to rub his sore backside for further comfort. “You gave me two wonderful sons. My happiest times are spent with you.”
“Then, why are you having an affair?”
“Are you going to believe a mix up of wind and water over me?”
“Stranger things have happened.”
John gestured for Susan to come over and take a seat next to him. “Darling, let me explain something to you. When I was a medical student at NYU, me and some of my fellow college students pulled one of the nastiest pranks you could’ve imagined on this one nerdy guy.”
“You’ve never come across as a prankster to me. What exactly was this prank?”
“I’m getting to that part. Before we all left the motel room where the prank took place, he told all of us that what we’d done to him, it would come back to bite all of us in the backside.”
“You’re dancing around the question, John. What did this prank entail?”
“We lured him to a skuzzy, stinky, rat-infested motel in the South Bronx. After we got him to the motel, we had him believing that he was going to get laid. A mechanical sex doll covered with crawly little maggots were piled into the bed. He pulled the covers back and saw that his supposed dream night turned into his worst nightmare. One of my classmates dumped more maggots on top of his head.”
“You guys were the cruelest of them all.”
“On the way out of the room laughing our heads off, he warned us that we’d pay for what we did to him.”
“How come you never told me this?”
“Because you never asked.”
“Oh, so I’m a mind reader or a fortune teller now?”
“I never told you because I didn’t think it never mattered.”
“Where’s all this leading to?”
“The reason why my office got wrecked was because of the hurricane.”
“And the same reason why you suffered the injuries.”
“Yes, it’s because my backside is also injured. The hurricane won’t stop plaguing me until I apologize to its master.”
“Its master being?”
“Possibly Stuart Duffelmeyer.”
“The guy you and the others pulled the prank on?”
“Yes.”
“Why do you feel he might be responsible?”
“There’s no logical explanation. But, he’s come back to get his revenge.”
From the opposite end of the sofa, Susan casted eyes of mistrust at John. “You suffering severe injuries on your backside, maybe there is some plausibility to what he told you guys before you left the motel room.”
“There has to be some credence to what he said.”
“Maybe it’s time for you and your NYU cronies to make amends with Stuart Duffelmeyer.”
“If we don’t, then we’re going to continue suffering these devastating plagues.”
“Have you kept in contact with any of your former collegemates involved in the prank?”
“Not since graduation.”
“Do you know the whereabouts of this Stuart Duffelmeyer?”
“Last I heard, he owned and operated a lot of pet shops and vet clinics in New York.”
Susan felt rather disgusted with her husband. “If you were smart, you’d get into contact with all the parties who participated in the prank. Every one of you guys should find this guy and apologize for what you did. I don’t wanna stay married to a man who’s cursed with a plague for life.”
“Our family doesn’t deserve this.”
“John, look me square in the eye and tell me that you didn’t have an affair with Marissa Halifax.”
John released a light wind and said, “No, I didn’t have an affair with Marissa Halifax.”
Surprisingly, he spoke with sincerety. He just told his wife one big lie. She looked into his eyes and somehow saw the glare of truth.
“Start looking up the numbers for your old friends so we can get this plague lifted off us.”
John wasted no time going to his computer to research the possible phone numbers and addresses to other seven who violated Stuart Duffelmeyer.


CHAPTER—45

CONSECRATED HIGH IN THE UNIVERSAL SKIES

Eight big cities and smaller towns in between after several months exhausted Stuart to the point of needing much rest. Traveling from one end of the United States to the next gained him a wealth of experience in his dealings with vast cultures. One thing he learned for sure, was how people were the same no matter where you traveled to. There were the good and the bad, the proper and the improper, and the considerate and the inconsiderate.
Being able to sleep in his own bed for several days felt so good. Being able to socialize with his neighbors in Arden Heights of Staten Island felt better. Ownership of highly-profitable pet stores and vet clinics made his parents as proud as could be. Harry Duffelmeyer still bugged Stuart about overseeing some of his prime real estate in New York. Giving his son the liberty of making his own decision, Harry sort of backed off.
Managing his own businesses were more than a handful. The journey around America ordained him mastership over eight particular creatures and elements of the Earth. Stuart stepped outside his door and couldn’t believe he was back at 660 Barlow Avenue. The main thoroughfare of Arden Heights was semi-crowded with late afternoon traffic. Residents came and went from the clustered townhomes around the looped streets.
“Home sweet home,” Stuart marveled to himself, taking in some of the pure air of Staten Island.
A flaming glow radiated from the magical Hebrew talisman tucked under his Polo shirt. Signals from the Universe were being sent out to him. The white powdery clouds in the sky dissipated. Room was being made up there for the spiritual configuration of Rabbi Wedemeyer.
“Rabbi Wedemeyer?” Stuart cited, looking up in the now perfectly clear skies.
Rabbi Wedemeyer fortified the absolute power of the sun’s rays. “Stuart, my beloved, son. Your work is hardly done, young man.”
“Work, Rabbi?”
“A meeting concerning you is to be held deep into the corridors of the Universe.”
“Meeting with who?”
“With the very elements and creatures you consecrated. The One Most High has greater things in store for you.”
“Greater things, Rabbi? I don’t understand.”
“With the pure heart you possess, only a young man like you can help restore the Earth to balance.”
“But, why me?”
“Stuart, you are the chosen one.”
“But, wasn’t the powers granted to me to seek out my revenge from the egomanical eight who violated me?”
“True, but you have greater works which stretches beyond seeking out revenge from those who violated you. Your consecrated powers are in place to help alleviate the Earth from some of its great evils.”
“Rabbi, along my journey, the creatures and elements under my rule have performed commendable works. Many evildoers were corrected from their acts of injustice. There is just entirely too much evil done on this Earth.”
“Correct, my son. But, with your forthright dedication, this world as we know it, will benefit immensely.”
“But, how will I be led?”
“Through the guidance of myself and The One Most High.”
“Rabbi Wedemeyer, you have always guided me. My trust first goes to The One Most High, then it goes to you.”
The glistening spiritual figure of Rabbi Wedemeyer began to fade into the skies. “Stuart, the magical talisman awaits you to exercise its full powers. You have a meeting far into the heavens out in the Universe.”
The Rabbi disappeared into the bright skies. The powdery white clouds returned and dawn appeared in a matter of minutes. The magical talisman beamed higher and higher. Stuart pulled it from under his shirt and rubbed his fingers along the ridges of the Hebrew letters. Deep mental concentration emanated him into the astral forces of a vibratory field deep within the Universe. Other mysterious forces grew stronger as the magical invocation of the talisman pulled him further out into space.
At super lightning speeds, he jetted right past the Milky Way Galaxy. An estimated distance of one-hundred thousand light years were passed within seconds. Stars, millions of them, surrounded the galaxies which helped fill the Universe. Ultimately, it would be the constellation of rich galaxies around the Coma Berencies where Stuart ended his cosmic journey. Waiting for him deep in outer space would be the very same eight creatures and elements he helped consecrate with superlative powers.
“Master, we have awaited your arrival,” General Rahmaanteen said, whipping his thick tail from side-to-side.
The motioning of his long tail was a great salutation to Stuart’s superiority.
“Master, welcome to the Coma Berencies within the Universe,” Queen Amina spoke, an eye-blinding red glow all around her body.
She greeted her master with wild movements of her flaming antennaes.
“Master, the Universe welcomes your presence,” Queen Devorah said, a bone-chilling golden glow lighting up her body.
She gyrated her potent stinger to display an aura of great respect for her master.
“Master, it is a prolifically profound privilege to grace your presence,” Commodore Mowab said, radiating a cosmic blue that tingled the senses.
The commodore flapped his long fins as he showed ultimate respect for his master.
“Master, I am honored to grace your presence within the Universe’s Coma Berencies,” King Saraph said, the supreme brown glow stimulating one’s mind.
The king aggressively shook his rattler to show never-ending loyalty to his master.
“Master, it is honorable to crown you as the beneficent one,” Major Joezer said, a bluish-gray color sparkling from its shape.
The twisting of the tail from its tornado form signaled a true allegiance to its master.
“Master, the Universe opens its doors to you,” Captain Zamir said, a reddish-brown glow wavering up and down his body.
The captain wiggled his ears in circles to brandish homage to his master.
“Master, we have come to pay much respect to you,” Colonel Boaz said, the transparent colors like a shield around its form.
The spiraling winds and waters around the colonel signaled passionate sentiments to its master.
The clusters of galaxies spiraled around the Universe while the meeting took place.
There they were. All eight of them. The insects and animals and elements consecrated with supernatural powers.
“Welcome,” Stuart said, proud to be in the presence of the forces he helped consecrate on Earth. “Your work on Earth to help bring civil obedience to the egomaniacal eight was stupendous. Your work in correcting the wrongs of the evil perpetrated by the insensitive souls deserves much praise.”
The energized eight formed a tight-knit circle around Stuart. The respect for their master grew to unprecedented stages.
“Our meeting here in the Coma Berencies is monumental,” Stuart continued. “Because you have obeyed my orders with integrity, the eight of you will become a united force. The consolidation of your powers will extend far beyond the Earth and its Universal boundaries. The One Most High controls the entire Universe and his presence graces all of us. Do you understand the concept I’m leading up to?”
In a harmonious unison, Stuart was answered with a simple, “Yes, master.”
“From this day forward, you will be addressed as ‘The Counsel of the Electrifying Eight’. Do you know why I have selected you as the group known as The Counsel of the Electrifying Eight?”
“We yearn to know,” answered General Rahmaanteen.
“The eight of you have been charged with powers of electrifying proportions. Intensely, your powers will be electrically amplified.”
“Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, master.”
“Great will your names and abilities be known throughout the Universe.”
Stuart pointed out towards the spiraling galaxies of the vast Universe. “You will have domain over eight of the nine planets within the Milky Way Galaxy. Personally, my domain will be on Earth. When you are summoned to leave the planet within the designated solar system, then it will be ordered that you appear. Do you understand?”
“Yes, master, we understand,” answered the circle of eight creatures and elements.
“General Rahmaanteen, you will take up domain on Mars. This is the fourth planet from the Sun. You and your army will claim residency there on the red planet. The geological inactivity will convert to activity for your means of survival. You understand, General Rahmaanteen?”
“Yes, master.”
“Not only will you and your army take up residency on Mars, but you have been named head to the Counsel of the Electrifying Eight. You will sit as chief to the counsel, in which all matter must be approved by you.”
“Thank you, master.”
“General, you have earned your position as chief counsel.”
Stuart reached into a large bag and brought out a personalized magical talisman for General Rahmaanteen. His name was engraved at the center near a bright red crystal. He placed it around his neck along with four shiny general’s stars. Other stars were pinned to a black leather cape snugged around his neck.
A ball of cosmic fire shot through the Coma Berencies and exploded into the chest of General Rahmaanteen. Expanding at a rate of inches per seconds, he grew a pair of long brown wings. Fire ejected from his eyes and mouth. The general now possessed powers beyond his craziest dreams. Stuart shook hands and The general moved aside from the circle.
“Queen Amina, you will take up domain on Venus,” Stuart enlightened the queen. “This is the second planet from the Sun. You and your colony will claim residency on the terrestrial planet, the sister planet to Earth. The carbon dioxide and clouds of sulfuric acid will subside in order for you and the colony to establish more fruitful colonies. You understand, Queen Amina?”
“Yes, master.”
Stuart dug deep into the bag and brought out a frisbee-sized magical talisman for the queen. Her name was engraved at the center with a brilliant blue crystal. He placed it around her wide neck, along with a lustrous crown made of pure gold on top of her almond-shaped head. He kissed the queen on the side of her glowing face. The humongous bee cleared herself from the circle.
“Queen Devorah, you shall take up domain on Jupiter,” Stuart explained to another one of his beloved queens. “Not only is Jupiter the fifth planet from the Sun, but it is the largest in the Solar System. You and your hive will claim residency on the planet which is a gas giant. The hydrogen and helium will gradually diminish so that you and your hive can build up a great dynasty. Do you understand, Queen Devorah?”
“Yes, master.”
Stuart rambled around inside the bag and brought out a saucer-sized talisman for the other queen. Her name was beautifully-engraved across the middle. He placed it around her long neck, along with a crown made of pure silver and platinum on top of her head. He kissed her on the side of her pear-shaped head. She flapped her glowing wings and waited right beside Queen Amina.
“Commodore Mowab, yourself and the school will take up complete residency on Mercury,” Stuart guided the commodore. “This is the innermost and smallest planet in the Solar System. The high eccentricity and small axial tilt will be corrected in due time so that you and the entire school will flourish on Mercury. Am I clear, Commodore Mowab?”
“You are clear, master.”
Stuart felt around inside the fluffy bag and produced a magical talisman about the size of two jar tops. How proud it was for the commodore to see his name carved deep into the precious metal of the talisman. Stuart placed it around his neck, along with the insignia ranking of a commodore pinned to a vest. He shook the edge of The Commodore’s fin and he maneuvered his way out of the circle.
“King Saraph, you and the nest will claim Saturn as your cosmic territory,” Stuart explained to the king. “Saturn is the sixth planet from the Sun and the second largest in the Solar System. This planet is also a gas giant with nine rings that consist of ice particles. The intermediate layers of metallic hydrogen and liquid helium will decimate very shortly, giving you and the nest time to progress. Understood, King Saraph?”
“Understood, master.”
Each of the Counsel of the Electrifying Eight truly earned their rankings.
Stuart felt around the bottom of the bag and came up with a magical talisman the diameter of about five quarters. King Saraph stared in amazement as he saw his name inscribed next to a king’s icon. Stuart placed it around his slender neck, along with a glimmering gold crown made of diamonds and rubies and sapphires.
Another ball of cosmic fire shot through the Coma Berencies and penetrated the serpent’s body of King Saraph. The king grew a pair of long skinny wings at the center of his body. Flames of sizzling proportions shot from his fangs and eyes. Like General Rahmaanteen, his powers were more pronounced. Stuart patted the king on the side of his head and he flew himself away from the circle.
“Major Joezer, it is during this time period that you will find habitation on the planet Neptune,” Stuart exalted to the major. “This planet is the eighth and farthest planet from the Sun within the Solar System. The higher proportions of ammonia and methane will dissolve over time with the help of gravitational perturbation. You, alone, will blossom over time on this planet. You comprehend me, Major Joezer?”
“I comprehend, master.”
Stuart touched his way through the bag and came up with a smaller, pan-sized magical talisman. He placed the talisman and the gold cluster of a major at the side of the powerful funneling winds. The Major blew its way out of the ranks of the circle.
“Captain Zamir, you and other members of your nest will call Pluto home,” Stuart informed the captain. “This is the ninth planet in the Solar System. The nitrogen, methane, and carbon monoxide gases, they will not interfere with your survival on the Plutonian surface. Temperature inversions will be set perfectly for the entire nest’s comfort. You understand, Captain Zamir?”
“I understand, master.”
Stuart patted his way through the bag and pulled out a bowl-sized magical talisman. This particular talisman was attached to a pure gold chain with his name engraved across the top. Gleaming gold captain’s bars were pinned at the tip of his wings.
Yet another ball of cosmic fire jetted through the active confines of the Coma Berencies. The ball of fire crashed into the middle of Captain Zamir’s chest. Boiling clusters of fire came rolling out of his mouth and from his eyes. Cosmic lasers were ejected from both wings.
Stuart and the king exchanged pleasantries with his clawed feet. He flew away from the ranks of the circle.
The millions and millions of stars rotated in swift motions within the boundaries of the Coma Berencies.
“And last, but definitely not least,” Stuart hummed to his last candidate. “Colonel Boaz, you will take up sole occupancy on the planet Uranus. This is the seventh planet from the sun and is a planetary system made up of thirteen rings. The charged particle irradiation from the Uranian magnetosphere will in no way conflict with your domicle on the planet. Do you follow me, Colonel Boaz?”
“Yes, master, I follow you.”
Stuart grabbed the very last magical talisman in the bag. He swung the chain attached to the talisman around the mighty winds and waters of the colonel like a boomerang. The symbol of a colonel’s ranking was also placed on the side of the hurricane’s water form.
All eight of the Earthly animals and insects and elements were given magical talismans to reinforce their powers. They’d keep the innermost lines of divine communications open with their supreme master, Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer. Domineeringly, they wore the high rankings around their necks, on their sides, and on top of their heads.
“Counsel of The Electrifying Eight!” Stuart shouted, his voice echoing throughout the northern constellation of the Universe’s Coma Berencies. “Congratulations to all of you! The supremacy of your positions will be ironclad on your designated planets and throughout the Universe. The powers you now possess, they will be magnified over time. The One Most High, The Ruler of the Universe, we must obey him as you have been ordained to still obey me. Do you understand, Counsel of the Electrifying Eight?”
“Yes, master,” all eight answered back.
“Lines of planetary, extrasensory communications will be kept open between all nine of us. Our magical talismans are consecrated with Universal powers, and they will prompt one another to emerge in a timely fashion. Am I clear, Counsel of the Electrifying Eight?”
“Yes, master.”
“The divine guidance of Rabbi Wedemeyer will be the fierce powerbase in which our strength will forever be reinforced. From this day forward, I, Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer, will stay true to the Counsel of the Electrifying Eight. Meetings will be held on Earth, possibly on other planets where the eight of you will reside. Counsel, do you understand?”
“Yes, master.”
“Any evils perpetrated on Earth, or throughout the galaxy, must be suppressed with civility. If irrational measures are called for, then so be it. Our enemies, the enemies of the galaxy and beyond, they could come in great numbers. Counsel, we are to be prepared for anything. Is it understood?”
“Yes, master.”
The stars in the Coma Berencies casted spellbinding light.
The talismans worn by the Counsel of the Electrifying Eight beamed with cosmic energy.
Stuart pointed over to one of his esteemed Queens. “Queen Amina, you will serve as second-in-command on the counsel. As queen of not only your hive, but now, as a leader within the counsel, you will corroborate with General Rahmaanteen on all matters. Congratulations, Queen Devorah.”
“Thank you, master.”
Stuart smiled and stretched his arm in the direction of the captain. “Captain Zamir, you have been charged and strengthened to take charge in the absence of General Rahmaanteen and Queen Devorah. The counsel now depend on you to be the glue to hold things together when everything seems to fall apart at the seams. Congratulations, Captain Zamir.”
“Thank you, master.”
A cosmic light brighter than all others almost blinded Stuart and the Counsel of the Electrifying Eight. Rabbi Wedemeyer appeared in a bolder spiritual configuration.
Stuart noticed the worried expression scrawled across his celestial face. “What’s wrong, Rabbi Wedemeyer?”
“Stuart, The One Most High has allowed me to travel even deeper into the passageways of the Coma Berencies here in the Universe,” Rabbi Wedemeyer explained to his honorable, Earthly son. “A very large meteorite crater is traveling straight for the Milky Way Galaxy.”
“Didn’t you tell me that when I still on Earth?”
“I did.”
“Rabbi, how do you know it’s targeting the Milky Way?”
“It’s just a matter of time before it makes it here to the Coma Berencies. Once it passes this constellation of the Universe, then I know it’s destined straight for the Milky Way.”
“But, where in the Milky Way?”
“Only time will tell.”
“Can The One Most High stop it?”
“Maybe, maybe not. It depends on what his will is.”
“Rabbi, could the entire Milky Way be in danger?”
“Yes, it’s very possible, my son.”
Stuart pointed around to the eight counsel members. “The Counsel of the Electrifying Eight have been given dominion on eight of the nine planets within the Solar System. Is it possible they can stand guard against this meteorite crater?”
“Yes, but I must warn you that this crater has indescribable powers. My son, these powers are not to be taken lightly.”
Rabbi Wedemeyer vanished back into the unknowns of the Universe. Stuart and the counsel sure had something to worry about. The heavenly bodies they’d been given guard over were now in grave danger.
“Counsel, go to your planetary habitations to form your own dynasties!” Stuart yelled, his voice carrying deeper into the Universal passageways.
“Yes, master.”
The Counsel of the Electrifying Eight dispersed from the Coma Berencies and charged straight to their respective planets. Not even one hour after the meeting in the Universe was adjourned, the exact meteorite crater Rabbi Wedemeyer spoke of jetted through the Andromeda Galaxy at rapid speeds. Though the colossal-sized meteorite was over two-million light years away, it passed the billions of stars in time to reach the Milky Way Galaxy within days. Stuart returned to Earth at exactly 10:00 o’clock p.m., Eastern Time. If only he knew the danger which lied ahead. He went inside his home and dropped down on his bed for a good night’s rest.


CHAPTER—46

FORGIVE THEM OF THEIR TRESPASSES

Great service and good recommendation were the precise convictions of the many customers who shopped at Pet World between West 75th Street and 6th Avenue in Manhattan. Stuart didn’t mind them complaining about his costs being much pricier than other pet stores. The grand service they received was worth the extra they paid. Pet World now grew to over fifty stores in all five boroughs, including more stores in Yonkers and New Jersey and Massachusetts.
Stuart now became the undisputed owner of countless pet stores and veterinarian clinics around the New York tri-state area. How good it felt for him to build a conglomeration of stores which raked in millions per year. It felt even better having a woman by his side in which he’d surrendered his heart over to within a short period of time. His time of arriving back in New York was well spent with Laura Rivenburg.
She’d been keeping late hours at his residence in Staten Island. Gladly, she got inside her car and drove from New Jersey into New York. Had Stuart found the true love of his life? Their time shared in Las Vegas was the inaugural indicator. My, my, look at Stuart Duffelmeyer now! What a miraculous transformation he’d gone through. The thick glasses were traded for contact lenses. The outdated clothes got dumped for modern, contemporary fashions. The awkward hairdo converted over to a sleek-chic style. Inside his office at Pet World, Laura sat in his lap with her arms locked around his neck.
“Stuart, you’re the answer to my prayers,” Laura said, leaning over to plant a big kiss on him.
“Laura, you’re the woman I’ve dreamed about all my life,” Stuart said, pulling her closer for another passionate kiss.
“From Las Vegas to New York. Who would’ve ever thought I’d meet someone like you?”
“Thank God for the creation of Las Vegas.”
“And thank God for the song ‘Sharing The Night Together’.”
“Ahhhhhh, the beautiful ballad by Dr. Hook.”
“What a wonderful night we shared together in my suite. The stars shined real bright down on me when I saw you in the hotel restaurant.”
“Us meeting was destiny.”
Stuart slipped his hand into the left pants pocket and hid a small square box in the other hand. “The wonderful tune by Dr. Hook would be the perfect song for someone to perform at our wedding.”
“It’s the perfect wedding song.”
He flipped open the top to the box and presented it before Laura. “Well, then we’ll be hearing that song at our wedding.”
Laura jumped off his lap and cupped her mouth. “Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer, are you------?”
“Yes, my dear!” Stuart bubbled before she completed her sentence.
“I-----I-----just don’t know what to say.”
“Say that you’ll marry me.”
Laura broke out into joyful tears. “Yesssssssssssssss!”
Stuart got down on one knee and placed the engagement ring firmly on her hand. “Laura Marie Rivenburg, I live for the day that you’ll become Mrs. Laura Duffelmeyer.”
“Me too.”
Before Stuart could stand up, a hard knock sounded at his office door.
“What is it?” Stuart asked, sort of irritated from the sudden interruption.
One of the dedicated Pet World employees, Betsy Harmony, stuck her head in the doorway. “Mr. Duffelmeyer, there’re a large group of people out here to see you.”
“Do tell, what do they want, Betsy?”
“They didn’t say.”
“Whether it be their dogs, cats, snakes, fish, or birds, we have all the food and supplies they need.”
“Mr. Duffelmeyer, I don’t think they’re here for that.”
“Right in the middle of proposing to Laura, I get a big group of people who’d like to see me.”
“Sorry, Mr. Duffelmeyer.”
“Oh no, it’s not your fault. Betsy, I’ll be out there shortly.”
“I’ll let them know, sir.”
Betsy closed the door and Stuart took Laura by the hand. “Sweetheart, let’s hope that these people aren’t from the IRS, CIA, INS, or the FBI.”
“Those people wouldn’t have no reason to come and see you.”
“Just kidding, Laura. Let’s got out here and see who these people are.”
“Promise you’ll introduce me as your fiancé?”
“Proudly, my darling.”
Stuart and Laura stepped into his pet store. He got struck with the surprise of his life. Standing beside the cages and tanks and aquariums, were the egomaniacal eight from their old college days at NYU. Expressions of remorse were plastered to their faces.
“Stuart, who are all those people?” Laura asked, just as surprised as him.
Stuart exhaled strongly and shook his head. “Well, they’re old classmates from NYU.”
“What do you they want with you?”
“We shall soon find out.”
Anthony Greenstein stood at the forefront of the other seven with a sullen expression on his face. “Stuart, we all got together and decided to do something we should’ve done years ago.”
Stuart gazed deep into their estranged eyes. “So, does that mean that you’ve come back to offer your formal apologies?”
“Yes, we have,” Anthony answered softheartedly, his cockiness having subsided. “Some of the strangest things have been happening to all eight of us.”
“Strange things like what?”
“These creatures, they’ve come to us telling us that they’ve been sent by their master to plague us. For me, this giant talking rat, it told me that I’d come crawling on my hands and knees to beg for their master’s forgiveness.”
“Giant talking rat?”
“Sounds unbelievable, but it’s true.”
“Didn’t know rats could talk,” Stuart taunted, laughing hard on the inside.
“You won’t believe what this rat did to me.”
“I can only imagine.”
“This rat and his army bit me in the rear, demolished my office, and gave me a good working over. The thirty-second floor inside Greenstein Towers was ripped to pieces.”
“The biting in the rear sounds quite unconventional.”
“The rat lashing me with its tail stung like you wouldn’t believe.”
“You guys don’t think I’m this master, do you?”
“Not sure, but there seems to be some correlation between yourself and these supernatural occurrences.”
“Trust me, there’s no correlation.”
Anthony dropped to his knees and crawled over to Stuart.
He reached forward to grasp Stuart’s limp hand. “Stuart, I’d like to offer a formal apology for masterminding the whole prank that night at the scummy motel in the South Bronx. Putting the mechanical sex doll in that bed was insanely absurd. Please forgive me for being so stupid.”
“Apology accepted, Anthony.”
Megan Piccirillo-Pisano fell to her knees and crawled right in behind Anthony.
She looked up at Stuart with dreadful eyes. “Stuart, this is my one and only chance to say I’m sorry for my participation in the prank. Before I go back to Dallas to be with my husband, Tom, and my two kids, I thought I’d come back to admit my wrong. Weirdly enough, these giant talking ants told me the same thing that was told to Anthony. Inside the break room of the hospital I work at, I was attacked by this ant that stung me in my backside. So, I’m offering my apology for providing the phony voice in the prank.”
“Your apology is accepted, Megan.”
Megan patted Stuart on the shoulder and moved aside.
Dana Potts-Briscoe crawled front the back with her head hung low.
She hugged the legs of Stuart right below the knees. “Stuart, I know what we did to you that night in the motel was dead wrong. Spreading all those maggots in the bed with the sex doll was absolutely cruel. Dumping more maggots on top of your head was even crueler. After being attacked and conferenced by a buncha talking killer bees at the news station, I surrendered and knew that it was time to come to you and apologize. One of the bees stung me straight in the backside. Officially, I’m offering my apology before I fly back to Miami.”
“Dana, your apology is accepted.”
Dana stood up and went back to the end of the group.
Taylor Warrwick crawled forward with regret on his face.
He literally kissed the shoes on Stuart’s feet. “Stuart, luring you to the motel was just plain old mean. I knew better, but just insisted on acting a complete fool. I could’ve easily said no and had no part in the prank. People think I’m deranged, but this huge talking whale shark told me the same thing you heard from the others. And like the others, the shark took a couple’a chunks out of my backside. But, before I fly out’a here to Los Angeles, I’m asking you to forgive me for what I did.”
“You’re forgiven, Taylor.”
Taylor stood up and stepped over by one of the larger cages holding a German Shepard puppy.
Abdullah Tariq Muhammad crawled around Taylor wearing his proud African garments. He was careful to stay away from the cage holding the Boa Constrictor snake.

He squeezed both hands of Stuart while still down on his knees. “Stuart, flicking those lights on and off inside that motel room was not funny. Participating in the prank was quite a miserable thing to do. My punishment had to be getting bit from behind by these gargantuan-sized talking rattlesnakes. Las Vegas is where me and my family now live. And before I fly back there, I’d like to ask you to forgive me.”
“All’s forgiven, Abdullah.”
David Nguyen squirmed his way in front of the others.
He clutched Stuart around the legs. “Stuart, how wrong it was for me play the soft love music when we had you believing that you were going to have the time of your life. No one would’ve believed me if I told them how a wild talking tornado invaded my chambers and told me that it’d been sent by its master to plague me. I got slammed against cabinets while my backside was bruised up pretty bad. To make things official, I’d like to ask you to forgive me.”
“Talking tornado, David?”
“Sounds inconceivable, but oh so true. Will you forgive me?”
“Yes, I forgive you, David.”
David stood up and found his way back to the middle of the group.
Prudence Cundy made her presence known before Stuart. “Stuart, spreading the slimy compound gook on the floor inside that motel was just God awful. Back where I now call home, these human-sized talking bats, they attacked me inside my school classroom. They worked me over pretty good and bit me in the rear. To almost repeat what the others have already said, these bats explained how they’d been sent by their master to plague me. Before I go back to Milwaukee, will you find it in your heart to forgive me?”
“My heart has found room to forgive you, Prudence.”
Prudence stood and found a spot near the end of the ranks.
Last, John O’Connor, the one-time culprit who’d initiated contact with the other conspirators in the plot, crawled forward with the saddest look drawn on his face. “Stuart, Taylor pretty much said exactly what I wanted to say. Us driving you over to that God-forsaken rathole motel in the South Bronx wasn’t fair. Back in Washington, D.C., I got a visit from this mean hurricane inside my office at the hospital. This huge hunk of water and winds gave me a real good working over, then stung my backside with gallons of water. It came to my home and bothered me and my wife. Whether or not you’re the master, this hurricane told us who it’d been sent by. I just wanna apologize for taking part in the prank.”
“First, I’m not a master of no one,” Stuart blantly denied. “Second, I find it in my heart to forgive the eight of you. Listening to all of your stories, it sounds like you’ve suffered some serious devastations. To quote The Holy Bible back to you: ‘Whatever measure ye meet, it shall be measure to you again’. We all grew up hearing that whatever ye sow, so shall ye reap. The master who sent these creatures and forces of nature to plague you, this person must possess remarkable powers. With respect to exclusitivity, the eight of you seemed to have come out better people with more scrupulous principles.”
One by one, the group once dubbed the “egomaniacal eight”, all hugged and shook hands with Stuart. Boy, how good it felt. The eight of them went from being injured in their own backsides to literally kissing the backside of one Stuart Irwin Duffelmeyer.
Stuart got tickled on the inside with much joy.
Laura got hit with the joy he felt.
Pet World employees couldn’t believe how the eight of them crawled to Stuart on their knees.
Anthony stepped up to Stuart and whispered in his ear. “In case you don’t believe it, it’s true that the eight of us suffered damage to our backsides. It happened just like you predicted before we left out of the motel room that night in the South Bronx. Whether or not you’re the master who sent those creatures to plague us, it’s something we’ll spend the rest of our lives trying to figure out.”
The eight former NYU students filed out of Pet World with a humble demeanor.
Stuart returned to his office with Laura left petrified.
She squeezed between the back of his desk chair and the wall to give him her best womanly massage. “Stuart, I know why those eight people came back to apologize to you. You gave me some insight when we were still in Las Vegas. But, what’s this razzle dazzle crap about some master inflicting his plagues on them?”
Stuart leaned back to curl his hands around the top of her’s. “Laura, never underestimate the mastery of the Universe. Plagues are just like the people that they’re committed on, they come in different shapes and sizes and colors.”
He swung her around and paid close detail to the expensive diamond ring he bought her several days earlier.

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 29.05.2011

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