Veils like Sails on Ships
Girls who have to wear veils but do not want to.
A Preemptive Foreword
Some might want to Google Wahhabism before reading this story.
You are what animal just ate you.
“My sister fucking died because she could not find her veil. There was too much smoke to see and the police at the door would only let ones out that had them on. They all died. All of them in the dorm. It’s been a year and it still pisses me off. Every body kisses their asses. Governments, Hollywood, Muslims in other countries and the right and the left.” Chet drained the rest of the beer and waved at the bartender. The bar was next to the lobby of the Hiltone, which was quite busy with a mining equipment convention. “Say Tef, did you know my home country is one of the biggest assholed countries in the world?”
“I knew. Just didn’t want to rub it in. During the first Gulf War, which I was against, they would not let American soldiers wear any Christian jewelry. We should have just packed it on home then. Afghanistan was a good war, I am not sure about Gulf War 2 but Saudi Arabia should had been given a forty-eight-hour-notice-or-else speech by Bush.”
Waiter asks, “Would you like to order now?”
“I’ll have the bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwich, what about you Chet?”
“Ham steak, very rare, I want to see blood on it.”
After dinner Chet and I left the bar going through the lobby this time so as to catch a cab at the main doors.
And there it was! Our answer. The biggest yellow thing I have ever seen sitting right there in the lobby. An open pit-mining dump truck. As I stared I thought I could hear a whole string of violins mimicking the arrival of a slow moving tornado and my heart beat was a kettle drum getting louder and louder. The wheels alone were about twelve feet high. You had to climb a ladder to get into the cab. In total it was about forty-five feet long, thirty-four feet wide and a height of twenty-six feet. During all of this, I remember the Saudi Arabian embassy is just a mile away.
Sometimes an answer is scarier than the problem.
Three days later.
“Let’s name our cause,” Chet says. “Any ideas?”
“Mmmm how about ‘The Laughing Javelins’ or ‘Buddha’s Javelins From Hell’,” Tef laughs.“The truck dealer let me spend the whole day practicing the driving simulator on the truck. He got suspicious because I just wanted to learn to drive, no dumping. What a laugh! Here is the letter to email. It goes to the embassy, the local police, AP Wire and local news networks. Do not send it till the truck makes it onto the street.”
You can lead a horse to water but you cannot make him drink, tell him a joke and watch the water come out of his nose.
Dear Assholes of Saudi Arabia
(If you are a slow reader than you should read the last part first or people may die.)
My hair feels like a wire brush.
I can only dance in space,
I’m so fast.
I don’t need a vacuum cleaner.
I break patent laws.
God uses me as a reference.
I am so cruel to demons,
I make them cry.
The pope wants to kill me,
but they can’t find me.
God makes their brains like retarded people for me.
Angels comb my hair.
I turned hell into a hot tub.
I tore down the billboards in Heaven.
I killed Batman.
I am Plan 9 from Planet Dammit.
I’m a cybernetic spy,
come kill me.
I walked through the streets,
shouting through a bullhorn,
pleading with the assholed to come out
so I can comb their hair with my cleats.
I surf on lava flows.
I use a diamond tip drill to brush my teeth.
I eat monster toes for breakfast.
I jump off planets just for fun.
I am the China Syndrome,
who will piss on me?
I told a bad joke,
and there was a solar eclipse.
Satanists wet their robes when they see me.
Death touched me and got a cold.
I played hacky sack with Bruce Lee,
I eat caleche.
I’m a fire-breathing playboy,
what girl will sit on me?
I’m a great dresser.
I didn’t like my horoscope,
so I changed the orbit of the planets.
I fly into the past just to eat lunch.
Buddha thinks I’m funny.
I stole Elvis Presley’s girlfriend.
I can play the saxophone with my mind.
My sweat will make anything pregnant.
My heart sounds like a pink shotgun.
My organs are disposable.
I change them every week.
I was the first cliff jumper,
I didn’t use a parachute.
My mother gave me thrusters.
My father gagged me with a steam shovel.
I never cry in my beer.
I eat my food on tectonic plates.
I live on a luxury liner,
deep down in a cave.
Mountain men ask me for my autograph.
Indians buy drugs from me.
I told Einstein that E=mc².
I got mad at Hitler,
and ripped off one of his balls.
I have a shrunken Godzilla head around my neck.
I am an outer space and inner space road-warrior,
let me drive over you.
I eat whales on a stick.
I taught James Brown how to dance.
I gave the Shah of Iran cancer.
My thoughts are like a machine pistol.
I’ve got rhythm.
I have a pocket bazooka.
I play mind games with serial killers.
The CIA thinks I’m just a figment
of people’s imaginations.
I’m a multidimensional transient.
God signs my paycheck.
Jesus said I was too humble.
I use jellyfish as toothpaste.
I’ve been to parties that lasted a century.
I go to cocktail parties and blow up.
I gave Rev. Moon a spiritual enema.
I don’t pay taxes.
Where is the Inquisition?
I will stomp it.
Give me a Nazi
and I will grill him on my hibachi.
I put dictators in refrigerators.
I ain’t nothing but a hound dog.
I lie any fucking time I want to.
I lick habits.
I drink and brag.
I lose my mind and brag.
God dammit I don’t care if I die.
I keep on bragging.
I get more slack.
No boring death, anti rock and roll, blood-
sucking, poodle type vampire pussy culture going to
Fuck up my reincarnation plans.
I will not be a dead duckbill platypus.
I got a tractor beam.
I got a force field.
I got a laser that will knock your dick in the dirt.
Yeeks, Yorks, Yacks,
I’m one damn man,
blessed with: laser balls, guts of Teflon
and tungsten steel.
A black hole in my brain.
A heart more powerful than a damn generator.
I can do push ups with a
Sherman tank on my back.
I feed off stupid energy.
I am a strong fucker.
I play golf with a chainsaw.
I use live piranhas as a washrag.
I can reach around a corner with my tongue.
I can shake my butt into butter.
I’m a wild man-thing.
I have a license.
See me push their buttons.
Totally and unrespectfully up-yours, Buddha’s Javelins From Hell.
P.S. You have ten minutes to evacuate the Saudi Arabian Embassy. Unlike you major assholes, I just want to destroy property so GET THOSE PEOPLE OUT!!
If eyes are windows to the soul, be sure to install crossbars.
There is no guard for the truck. Who would steal it? Who would buy it? What chop shop would it fit in? Tef quietly enters the truck while dragging an oversize luggage with wheels. Under an overcoat he is wearing a wet suit. In the luggage are two air tanks, fins and such plus a discarded vacuum cleaner bag from the hotel he was staying at. Later when the truck is vacated, the contents will be strewn about so as to cover up his hair, genetic clues, and clothing fibers left behind. The cleaner-bag is stocked full of hundreds if not thousands of different samples from people. Tef cranks up the truck. A guard at the entrance turns around and stares at the truck like it was a Tyrannosaurus-Rex. The truck at five miles per hour hits the glass walls in the main lobby of the hotel. Glass shatters and rains down like snow in a hurry to reach the earth. At the curb Tef stops the truck and waits to see if anybody is in the cars in front of him. Tef hits the truck horn; the blast is like a train. The truck goes on over the cars in front. The cars collapse under the huge tires. Tef turns on his right-turn blinker and makes a right going down the nighttime street.
Moss always grows on the north side of 7-11
same time, Chet had just finished barricading the door in his hotel room. Chet opens the balcony door and steps out. The view of the embassy roof is down about twenty feet and two hundred feet away. Chet returns to his room and picks up a radio-controlled helicopter. He places the copter on the balcony. He then gets a fishing rod and attaches the line to the chassis of copter. He bolts the fishing rod to the balcony railing. He releases the drag-clutch on the rod so it will reel out freely. Chet picks up the remote control and readies himself to start the copter. At the sound of his cell phone he sees the false name of Tef’s phone number. The text message says, “Send now.” Chet goes to his laptop and uses the remote access program to access another laptop in another hotel, he sends the email threat from the remote computer. Then he formats the hard drive.
Behind every great man is a 7-11
same time, huge long strings of firecrackers set on timers at fifty different locations near and surrounding the embassy all go off at once.
Behind every great man is a chair
same time, officer Dangle is reading the e-mail threat letter that was forwarded from dispatch. “I killed Batman.”
“I like Batman. Who’d want to kill Batman? I can not stand anybody more liberal than I!”
Behind every great man is a submissive sex slave
same time, embassy chief Bin Gitten Shitten reads the e-mail threat. “I tore down the billboards in Heaven.”
“There are no billboards in heaven. How ridiculous and immature. Everybody knows that. Now seventy-two virgins is another story. I can not stand anybody more conservative than I.”
Not at the
MAY CAUSE DROWSINESS. ALCOHOL MAY INTENSIFY THIS EFFECT. USE CARE WHEN OPERATING A CAR, DANGEROUS MACHINERY OR GOVERMENTS.
same time. Twenty-four hours earlier.
Tef sits there with an open bottle of beer in each hand. “Cheers to what might be our last days of life, freedom or both.” He ponders which bottle to drink from; he solves the problem by drinking from both of them.
“Tef, why are you doing this?” Chet is drinking whisky in one glass and a beer in the other. He ponders which to drink; he solves the problem by drinking some of both at the same time as the rest runs drown the front of his shirt. The coolness on his chest is matched by the coldness and fire in his gut.
“I always drink before dying, which could be any day.”
“ I mean, why are you risking your life, wasn’t your sister.”
“Now I am in-between lifelong loves. Also I am in-between ages. Between being concerned about happiness and settling for peace. Have you ever backpacked?”
“Well sometimes after a trip, it takes two weeks or so before you begin to enjoy it, and the joy stays longer than say a trip to Disneyland. I may be doing this for the same reason you drink so sloppily, it feels good.”
“It is not sloppy, different cultures reflect being relaxed in different ways.”
“Is that Middle-Eastern culture?”
That sends the beer flying out of Tef’s nose as they both laugh even harder.
Tef wipes his nose clean and “Getting carbonated beer up behind your eyeballs, what culture does that?”
If God had meant for man to fly, he would have given him wings. If God had meant for man to eat Ding-Dongs, he would have given him Ding-Dong capable teeth.
Chet’s helicopter takes off and makes its short flight with the fishing line trailing behind it to the Saudi embassy roof. It lands and continues to roll forward. It goes by a plumbing vent, circles it three times making a makeshift knot with the fishing line. Chet shuts down the copter and puts the brake on the deep sea fish pole. He picks up a coil of aluminum tubing that is about one-quarter of an inch in diameter and two hundred feet long. On the tubing about every twenty feet is a paper clip glued to it. He grabs the front end of the tubing and clip and clips it on the fish line. He continues this till the whole length reaches the copter. He grabs one of the oversized suitcases and opens it. Inside is an aluminum shell full of super unleaded gasoline. He attaches a pump to the tank and the tail end of the aluminum tubing to the pump. Gasoline spills out onto the roof.
Even a four-year old child can give somebody the finger, but he does not know the meaning or possible implications.
“Sir, we have a report of someone driving an open pit mining truck out of the lobby of Hiltone, and it is heading west on Sixteenth Street and …”
Dangle hangs up the phone and hits a punchy-red-punch button on his desk. This puts him in touch instantly by conference call with the FBI, CIA and ect… Dangle spills out his story like the gasoline on the roof.
Master Race…nahh Masturbator Race.
“Shitten here. What! Evacuate. Terrorist! How dare they!” Shitten hangs-up. On his desk there is a little fan. Shitten hits the fan. “Only Muslims really know how to carry out god’s wrath.” Shitten activates the alarm and the people pour out of the embassy like the gasoline on the roof.
If you follow Jesus, do not tailgate.
Tef heads towards the embassy. As he drives he slips a cd he burned himself in to the cd player. A song titled ‘Heart Scars’ performed by Heatseekers. It is mish-mesh of bluegrass and punk.
The scars you put on me
I left on the fork of a tree.
Shedding my skin.
I return to the tree.
The mold of the hold
you once had on me
Still glistens in the sun.
Tef sticks his arm straight out of the driver’s side window and makes a left.
No news means you did not pay your cable bill.
Roger, a World War II veteran is watching FOX news.
“Breaking News.” The background music sounds like a nuclear powered xylophone. “This just in. We have received an email threat to the Saudi Arabian Embassy in D.C.. Also at a nearby hotel, an open-pit-mining truck has been stolen and is being driven towards the embassy. And several gunshots have been heard near the embassy.”
Roger of the Greatest Generation lets out a “YEEE-HAA”, and then slips a tape into the VCR to record the broadcast.
Roger cries out,”Go sonny. After you are finished with those camel fuckers, go to the United Nations and turn that building into a big waffled piece of camel dung that they are.”
Chet goes over the edges in a good way.
As the tanks are pumping, Chet puts on a climbing harness and lays a coil of rope by the balcony. With one end he loops it around the whole bed and ties a knot, not wanting to trust the plumbing or the balcony structure to hold his weight. As the last tank is pumping he sees Tef coming down the street. The echo of far away sirens approaches. He gets his own vacuum cleaner bag and spreads its contents all around the room. Chet throws the rope over the edge. Attaches the harness repelling calibers to the rope. He steels himself for going over and for a second he looks at the curtains of his room rippling in the gentle breeze. He sees in his mind’s eye, maybe his child’s eyes, the curtain becomes a veil. It changes to a giant veil. Then the veil turns into a sail on a ship. A ship that has huge engines but has sails just because some have a love to harness the wind when they can. When the wind catches the sails, the ship glides on the ocean like it was ice. The only sound is the breeze, the water, and angels whispering so quietly that you would have to have been there for years before one can distinguish between their whispers and one’s own folly.
Chet rappels down the side of the hotel like a dropped veil seesawing its way down from the sky.
Give me libertarianism or give me Beth.
Tef stops by the hotel right below Chet’s window. Chet reaches the bottom and unbuckles his harness. He goes to the ladder at the side of the truck, climbs up, and walks around the gangway in front of the truck, opens the driver’s door and gets in.
“Put your seat belt on.” Tef says.
Tef flips the turn signal. They turn the corner of the street and two blocks away they see cop cars and fire engines forming a roadblock that is one block in front of the embassy.
“Tef, everything is five by five, whatever that means. Feels cool just to say it. Like ‘Houston, we have a problem.’ Riyadh, we have a problem. My ass smells like burning bacon.”
“O-kay-do-kay. Get those air-tanks ready. You got your cell?”
Going ten mph the truck makes the next block. At the next intersection, Tef gives a right turn signal and turns right. Away from the cops, away from the embassy. Towards the Potomac River.
Like a couple of good-old-boys go out at night with a spotlight on some back-roads. They see an audience and shine the spotlight in their eyes, the audience stands there transfixed. The good-old-boys get out of their pick-up truck and entertain their prey with song and dance maybe a poem, a story or gasoline. After the good-old-boys finish their routine, they turn off their light, get back in the truck and drive on looking for more easy prey. After they leave, the audience shakes their tails, blink their eyes and jump the barbwire fence.
The officer in charge looks at the truck as it comes to within a block from him. He lifts up his bull-horn and…
The truck makes a left and goes out of sight.
The officer says into the bullhorn, “Huummhh?”
The sniper on a nearby roof says, “What?”
The reporter for CNN says, “As you can se… not see.”
The man working for the NSA, looking at a feed coming from a satellite says,
Read the conclusion next week.
Just kidding. A little foreplay never hurt anybody.
The man working for the NSA, looking at a feed coming from a satellite says, “The truck is a diversion! It is a getaway.”
Roger, from the Greatest Generation (I shit thee not. How many millions died fighting Nazis and Imperial Japan?) screams, “Oh sonny, you are breaking my heart.”
Even our toys are more powerful than your best
“Chet, make that call now.” Chet dials the number to the cell in the bay of the helicopter. It connects a battery to the second cell in the bay of the helicopter and opens the bay doors.(Second cell phone is needed because wrong numbers or tele-marketers can kill.) Chet dials the number to the second cell phone. The second phone is wired so when rung, it heats up an underwater fuse that runs out of the bay doors to the belly of the copter. At the end is a little plastic bag containing shotgun powder. Before the fuse even burns to the bag, sparks from the burning fuse ignite the gasoline. Forty gallons of gasoline and the fumes burst into a huge and powerful fireball. The force collapses the central part of the roof. The roofing materials and aluminum start to burn and spread into the top floors. The force of the blast disables the fire-sprinkler system on the upper floors, and the fire creeps downwards.
Roger, from the Greatest Generation, (Really they were the Greatest Generation, if it wasn’t for them, we would all be angry, white and speaking southern German.) “Yes, yes yes!” Roger is in such a great mood that he pops a little blue pill and calls his girlfriend who lives downstairs.
Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach him how to fish and his family dies of mercury poisoning.
As Tef drives toward the Potomac River, he and Chet shed the last of their clothes revealing wet suits. Several cruisers sandwich the truck between them. None try to ram the truck, shoot the tires out, set out road spikes or shoot the driver. The cab is up too high from the road for them to have a clear line of fire. The road goes right by the river park and the curves on the park’s boundary. Tef goes straight heading toward the river. The cruisers follow for a short while but the brush and hollows of off-roading stop their pursuits. The truck slows down to three mph and goes into the water. Chet takes the second vacuum cleaner bag and strews the contents around the cab. As the water just comes up to the driver’s door, they both (now out fitted with masks, air tanks and fins) jump into the nighttime water. The truck continues its murky forward speed till air cannot feed the engine. At three miles per hour and all the tonnage of the truck, its momentum sends it out and the water covers the roof by several feet.
Tef and Chet both pull out underwater-GPSs. They swim away, trying not to laugh underwater.
May 2004, robotgossip
Not for commercial use.