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When last we left our story, Chief
International Negotiator, Jeff Lantis, and leader of the headless rebellion,
Bill Morgan, were face to face when a piercing screech shattered the calm that
had enveloped the compound since the Minister of Outrageous Action, Jeff Roche,
had left. The emitter of that eardrum-rupturing screech was a small grey cat
being chased by Head Counselor Mike Malmon-Berg. Both had erupted from beneath
a porch with Mike swinging his medicinal bat over his head and shouting “Here
kitty, kitty, kitty! Let me give you some of my patented Sudden Impact
counseling courtesy of your dear friend, Mickey Mouse!”
CIN Jeff Lantis deftly removed a starched and pressed red handkerchief from
his pocket and flipped it open with a snap of his wrist. He then waved it at
Mike, much like a sexy Spanish matador in skintight leotards might do to get
the attention of a bull. The comparison had not been missed by the gaggle of
groupies who followed the international troubleshooter around. They simultaneously
exploded with crystal shattering shrieks and promptly swooned in sync. Mike
stopped dead in his tracks and bobbed his head up and done in rhythm with the
hankie until he shook his head and glared at Jeff. Wiping his burly mitt over
his face he seethed, “OOOOOH I hate it when you do that!”, did that
little dance that Curly does, stared at Jeff, and hissed, “Now where was
I?!” .
Not missing a beat, Jeff coolly said, “You were just about to escort me
into the compound where I could speak with the Morganites.”
Suddenly from the rooftop Bill Morgan shouted, “Not so fast, GQ man! How
do we know you aren’t up to any tricks?”.
“I assure you, I am here on a mission of reconciliation. My colleague here
will simply protect me, should you try any tricks.” said Jeff soothingly.
“Fair enough, dandy don, but keep your fancy-pants gadgets in your pockets."
Bill leaned over and bellowed, "Hey Linda, open up! But keep an eye on
‘em”.
With that command, the front door swung open to reveal the Reverend Linda Morgan-Clement
with two bandoliers strapped across her chest, each stuffed with full cans of
red pop. In each hand she had a can of pop, shaken, not stirred. A little bead
of sweat trickled down her from her bandana, traveled slowly to the end of her
nose, and hung there, as ready for action as Linda apparently was.
“Okay pretty boy step in......but reeaal slow like. Any false moves and
you're a wet man. A sticky wet man”. Jeff shuddered at the thought of having
to clean red pop from his pressed white shirt . Mike simply stuck his tongue
out and holstered his therapy tool.
Once inside, Jeff, Mike, Bill and Linda confronted each other from opposite
ends of small room. That little bead of sweat still clung tenaciously to the
end of Linda’s nose, much like the prospect of peace between these two
enemy camps. Linda wiped the sweat off with the back of her sleeve, destroying
any further hopes of symbolism. Bill still brandished his covered dish like
a Samurai warrior with occasional rapid stiff-armed movements and guttural grunts.
Jeff calmly signed, “I think we can resolve this festering conflict. If
you are willing to put down that weapon of mass disgust then we can proceed.”
With that he reached in a pocket and pulled out a sleek black cellular phone,
flipped it open and said into the microphone, “Envy of Greenspan this is
Anwar Two, do you copy?”
A loud thud was heard to emanate from the phone followed with a muffled scratching
noise and then, “Where is that damn phone?.....Oh...That’s a copy
Anwar Two.”
“Activate operation Headless Bill” Jeff said. Jeff glanced at Bill
Morgan and noticed that his eyes had widened and the blood had drained from
his face. Jeff quickly added, “That should be bill with a little “b”.
It’s a proclamation not a cranial separation.”
In a matter of minutes a large step van came rumbling up and out spilled a riot
of bodies. At the head was the Minister of Propaganda, Jim Warner, dressed in
a white suit apparently borrowed from a much smaller Elvis impersonator. As
he pushed himself through the crowd, his rather large feet made contact with
an imaginary rock and propelling him onto a lower elevation. As he scrambled
to correct his vertical disposition, he stated quite majestically, “We
have the solution! There will be peace in our time!”
Eventually the Minister of Finance, Wayne Lash, and the Minister of Orderly
Events, Rujie Wang, assembled around MOP Jim Warner as he made his way to the
compound. When the MOP reached the CIN, he reached into his pocket, rummaged
around an embarrassingly long time and then pulled out a piece of crumbled paper.
He exclaimed “Here it is, the Bill of Rights for the Headless! Signed by
our fearless leader himself!”
Jeff took the paper, smoothed it out with a small traveling iron he kept stashed
in his briefcase. He studied it closely and then pronounced, “It's a bill
all right, but not a Bill of Rights. It’s a bill from Club Bacchus......what’s
a Club Bacchus?”
Jim grabbed the bill and hurriedly said, “Itsa....uhm..Itsa..club...no,
itsa Greek restaurant! The food’s not so good but the service....whooie...its
enough to make you stand up straight and salute!” and he added, snickering
quietly “...and boy have I been called to attention a few times.”
He then rummaged in his other pocket and pulled out another crumbled piece of
paper. “Here it is for sure, I think” he sputtered.
Jeff again smoothed out the paper and studied it closely. “Yes, this is
indeed the document that will end our hostilities.”
Linda glared at Jeff and spat, “What kind of fools do you think we are!
Your fearless leader would never sign such a document. His ideas about human
rights make Vlad the Impaler look like Mother Teresa!”
Jeff smiled and said, “What you say may be true, but never underestimate
the power of a good espresso and an easily distracted man.”
To be continued......
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