[Greg Anos]

The Pearl Brewery.....That put a different

light on the matter. What good's a fortune

if you can't buy your favorite beer.

Bubba interrupted my cogitating. "Looks

like you've got a job, Red."

I agreed. "Sure does. And I was lookin'

forward to having Cajun Alligator for

tonight's cook-out."

I turned to the Hoover doll. "Tell your

boys not to over-react and do anything

rash. That's my job."

"And you do it so well", Bubba

interjected.

"Quiet, Bubba, before I introduce you to

some people you don't want to know." I

turned to the Hoover doll. "How did you

find us, anyway?"

"We were informed that you were out

fishing, so we sent agents to every major

lake in Texas to look for you. You

happened to be at the lake we were

assigned to."

"Ok, call your boss and have him tell

The Prez the meter's runnin'. Same rates

as usual. And tell him this isn't gonna be

another Alamo, or I'll never bail him out

again."

The other Hoover doll turn around and

started muttering on his phone. I turned

to Bubba.

"Y'all want to watch the show, Bubba,

or do you want to head back home?"

"Aw, Red, I don't want to horn in on

your fun. You can tell me about it later."

"Yeah I'll have to file a report to Pinwheel

when this is all over. I'll pop you a copy.

It seems I get snakebit every time we

try to go fishin'."

"Hey, we got a full day in this time.

Are you going to eat your fish?"

"No, won't have time. You keep the

stringer."

The Hoover doll looked blank-faced at

the by-play. "Don't you mean filing a

report with The President?"

"No, I meant Pinwheel. Queen Zelda is a

lot prettier than The Prez. And she pays

better, too. I guess I can pop a copy to

your boss, but he's third on the list. And

he'd better not niggle me about it, either.

Now, did your boss give me a pack on

these Drowning Baptists, or do I have to

wait 'til we get back to San Antonio to

see the paperwork?"

"There's a sealed pack sent with every

group of agents sent out to find you, to

be given to you when you were found. It's

in the car."

I started walking over to the car. I

turned my head and yelled, "I'm on my

way to save Pearl for the world."

He yelled back, "You sure it's not, save

the world from Pearl?"



I had to sign for the pack before I

could open it. Stupid bureaucracy. I

started reading as we cruised back to

San Antonio.



* * * * *



The Drowning Baptists were thrown

out of the Baptist church for being too

extremist. They believed that the water

of baptism purified the body and the soul

together, but it took time to wash out

the sin. So the more sin you had in your

life, the longer you had to be held down

to purify your soul. This led to several

cases of people being held down so long

that their soul escaped their body on

the way to purification. The secular

authorities tended to take a dim

attitude about this, even though their

lawyers plead for freedom of religion.

So a number of their ministers were

doing time for manslaughter, and the

sect got the nickname of The

Drowning Baptists.

Some of the more pious members

apparently decided that their problem

was due to inadequate proselyting. So

they seemed to decide that they needed

to advertise more widely. Forceably

converting a bunch of diplomats seemed

to them to be just the ticket.



* * * * *



I finished the pack, and looked out

the window. Poor VR. A bunch of bath

happy zealots on one side, and millions

of gallons of Pearl beer on the other. I

had to do something to save that poor

doggie. He'd had a hard enough life as

it was, without some yahoo trying to

wash his sins out as well. There was no

way he could hold his breath that long.

"Well", I told one of the Hoover dolls,

"we're going to need a bunch of bacon

on call when I get this case finished.

Y'all better call ahead.

"How have you been communicating

so far?"

"The leaders in the Pearl Brewery

have been pitching rocks wrapped with

messages around them with some sort

of whirly catapult."

"That's a trebuchet. Popular as

artillery in the Middle Ages. People use

'em for pumpkin pitchin' contest

nowadays. How have you been

responding?"

"We've gotten a local mega-church

pastor to pitch responses wrapped around

small rocks back. He was willing as long

as the pitching was filmed and released

to the news media."

"Looks like somebody getting some

good publicity out of this."

"The FBI certainly isn't. What are

your plans."

" Well, as soon as we get to San

Antonio, I'm goin' to shower and change

clothes, and then go out and pitch a

rock at the brewery, telling 'em I'll

start the negotiations are 8 AM

tomorrow. Then I'm goin' to get

some sleep. Don't do anything to

annoy 'em just to stick your hand in.

I don't want to deal with any mass

conversions."

We got to San Antonio and I

completed my checklist. Tomorrow

was gonna be a long day.