The Case of the Drowning Baptists

[ShortNCuddlyAm]

"Yes, he discussed it with me over lunch. He can bring over one unarmed assistant."

"Well. he won't have any weapons. God granted him with a couple of arms at birth."

"God doesn't like bad jokes."

[badgoodDeb]

Well, the REST of us *do* like bad jokes!

[dreams]

"Who'se the new guy?"


"His name is Nate the Great. I asked

him to come along with me so that

he could take over the trolley work

later. I have sermons to write."


There was something vaguely familiar

with his appearance, but I couldn't

put a finger on it.

Hi, Nate!!

[zelda_pinwheel]

"Yes, he discussed it with me over lunch. He can bring over one unarmed assistant."

"Well. he won't have any weapons. God granted him with a couple of arms at birth."

"God doesn't like bad jokes."

[Greg Anos]

Originally Posted by zelda_pinwheel

I get the hint.....

[Greg Anos]

and after a long hiatus (bet you thought I didn't those big words) - MORE RED.



Sometimes it doesn't pay to get up. There I was, dreamin' about a evening of dancin' and romancin' at the Do-Drop-Inn, when I got shook awake.

"What do you want." I said blurrily, "We was doin' right nice..."

"You need to see this, Mr Edwards."

The only thing I needed to see was the back of my eyelids. Unfortunately, that was the one thing I wasn't going to get.

I tottered over to the TV. There, in living color, was that skinny assistant interviewing somebody on the TV screen. Bleep! That's where I remembered him from, doing local TV reportin'. Best ask the Bear about Algy...

"Is that Micah being; interviewed?"

"Yep. And you sent in the interviewer. They probably snuck in the equipment inside the cart. With today's miniaturization, it wouldn't take much space."

"The next time I see that tele-evangelist, I'm gonna take him fishin'. He's gonna be the bait."

I reached for my cellphone.


"Temple of God Annex. The sky is dark but Christ is Light."

"This is Red. I'd like to light up Micah's life. Can you put him on?"

"Not right now, he's working on his next speech."

"I need to talk to him about his witnessing. I'd like to do in in person, if possible."

"I will leave a message at his elbow. Is there anything else?"

"Yep, could you sent the breakfast list back with the trolley? "

"I'm afraid not, Mr. Edward. Micah needs the equipment on it. He said to send over another trolley next time."

Arrgh.


The Hoover doll looked at me quizzically.

I forced a grin. "Looks like the pace is gonna heat up pretty soon, confidence or no confidence. I expect to be in the compound tomorrow. So, lets get your orders straight today."

"Today is tomorrow, Red. It's after midnight."

"Whatever. First, after I go in, ring the place so that not even a humanist could get out. If you see a little doggie sneak out, talk to him about what the situation is. He'll have the best chance of avoiding the goons on the inside to escape unseen."

The Hoover doll goggled. "Talk to a dog?"

"No, listen to what he has to say first. Then talk to him."

"A talking dog? You're nuts."

"Fella, he didn't get to be Pinwheel's Viceroy by peeing on the rug. He talks. And he's not stupid. He's certainly smarter than you average diplomat." Not that that was saying much. "Right now he's my secret weapon. He knows more about the inside setup than anybody. Nobody hushes up because a dog is in earshot."

"What does the bacon have to do with him?"

"It's his favorite food. I sent it in so he'd know that I was out here. Also so he'd know not to freelance too much."

The Hoover doll gave me a hard look. "You seem to be a lot more subtle that you look."

"Quiet! I've got an image to maintain. Dumb rednecks can get away with more that Harvard Grads. It comes in real useful in didoes like these.

"Now back to the plannin'. Y'all got the place circled with parabolic microphones?

"No."

"Then setup a hundred percent coverage ring. And for heaven's sake run them through a computerized volume control cutoff! I don't want anybody deafened in case things go down bad in there. This way y'all can sorta follow what's going on the inside. If I scream for help, they'll just laugh until the doors come crashing down. They won't realize that instead of bein' wired, I'm bein' listened to from the outside.

"Next, I'll need an attack team on call 24/7. And I mean on-call. It this thing pops, I'm going to need instant backup, not in ten minutes.

"Finally, have Major Ruiz sneak in some combat medics and a field aid station. I don't expect to need it, but better safe than sorry."

The Hoover doll looked up from his checklist. "what's you plan once you get inside?"

"I don't have one. Not enough facts. I'll have to play it by ear." Long doggie ears, I expect....

[badgoodDeb]

Oooooo - an MR story with a Real Plot!!

Glad you are back. My throat is getting kinda dry, with the shortage of Pearl out here.

[pshrynk]

Hey! Mine's got a plot. It just keeps getting hijacked by Socialist Agitator Quebecoisee (add yer own damn accents.)

[dreams]

Oh, yea!!! He's Baaaack!

[Greg Anos]

Originally Posted by pshrynk

Hey! Mine's got a plot. It just keeps getting hijacked by Socialist Agitator Quebecoisee (add yer own damn accents.)

The last time an agitator tried to hijack one of Red's thread, he tied him up and made him chug 2 six packs of Pearl....

[pshrynk]

Cruel and unusual punishment?

[Greg Anos]

Originally Posted by pshrynk

Cruel and unusual punishment?

<shrug>...Ask FDR...

[Greg Anos]

and now for a double banger post of Red....(well one and a half, anyway...)



I got up before the Grandy's breakfasts arrived. Still no word from Micah. Probably practicing his next speech.

I wandered over to the Hoover doll on watch.

"Y'all got the setup ready?"

"As per you orders, Mr. Edwards."

"Ok, here's a couple more I thought up when I got up. Make certain the attack teams have gas masks with their own O2. And see if you can scrounge up butyl mercaptan, in some easy-to-pitch glass bottles."

"What's butyl mercaptan?"

"That's what comes out of the business end of a skunk. Safer to use that tear gas, and much more disturbing. But tell 'em not to pitch it without orders. It may not be necessary, and I'm fond of my meals."


About that time the food arrived. I called Micah.


"Temple Of God annex. The sky in glowing with the joy of Christ."

"This is Red. I hope everybodies' appetite is rising with the sun."

"It is indeed."

"Could you ask Micah if I can roll the grub over? The last roller seem to join the congregation."

"I will inquire. Please wait."


I waited a few minutes. The answerer came back on the line.

"Micah say that you may roll over breakfast if you are willing to be searched."

"That's fine, if we can be dignified about it. I wouldn't want to embarrass any ladies."

"Micah will supervise the search personally. He'll see to it that we ladies aren't offended."

"OK, I'm on my way over."

Off I went.

[Greg Anos]

Micah met me at the doorway and frisked me. I wasn't carrying anything but a pound of bacon for VR. After distributing the breakfasts to the Baptists, I asked to distribute the breakfasts to the ambassadors.

"I'd like to see how they're doin', Micah."

"Well...They don't seem to be doing well, Red. But it's nothing that we've done. Most of them seem to have the shakes and some of them are seeing things. And they keep complaining about the food. I mean, what are Oysters Rockefeller and Romanie Conti?"

"Just the diplomat's equivalent to ham and eggs. Let me see what can be done. I'd like to feed the doggie as well."

"You're welcome to that mutt. He's been nothing but a pill the entire time. Always underfoot, ruining people's shoes, except when he disappears every once and a while."

"Probably just finding a place for leftover dinners. Or maybe he doesn't like to be around the rest of the ambassadors, either. You can't really blame him."

"I don't want to blame him, I just want to shoot him. But my Christian charity prevents that. Though not by much."

"So can I feed the ambassadors?"

"Have at it."


As I expected, there were a lot of shakes and a couple of D.T.s on the ambassador row. Most ambassadors are alkies to start with, it goes with the territory. Obviously Micah hadn't known about that feature of diplomacy, and hadn't added 2 + 2. I would call in a special Everclear prescription as soon as I could figure out how to smuggle it in.

The Papal representative didn't seem to have a problem, even though he must have been 90. Something about his carriage made think I wouldn't want to get on his bad side, even at his age.

Noting the red stripe of his rank, I asked him how things were going.

"Not so good, lika my Englessh."

"What's your name?"

"Monsegnior Camillo."

Camillo? Where had I heard that name before. Back when I was a kid... Hmmm.... Then it hit me! Uncle Jack! He had talked about a young parish priest named Camillo, back when he was a Looey during the occupation of Italy right at the end of WWII. He had gotten into an argument with the priest and had gotten his clock cleaned. It was the only time he had ever admitted to getting his clock cleaned...That was in the northern end of Italy, on the Po river...

"Padre, did you ever have a parish on the Po river?"

"Yes, for many years, before I became a Monsegnior. Whya do you ask?"

"I think you had some fisticuffs with a American Lieutenant, during the occupation, did you not?"

He grinned. "He hada fasta tongue, anda loose zipper. I hada to look after the women there. It is the duty of a parish priest."

Yep, that was Uncle Jack, alright. "The Lieutenant you had fisticuffs with was my uncle. He told us kids the story when we were growing up. Cleaned up a little, of course. Padre, if I can clear it with our captors, will you hear my confession?"

"Of coursa, my son."


I walked back to Micah.

"Micah, can I ask a favor of you?"

"Depends. What is it."

'I'm not of your faith. Can you give me and the old priest a quiet corner for confession? Confessions, as you know need to be private."

"Hmm.... I don't trust you, but that priest must be 90. I doubt he could do anything at his age...OK. Go find yourself a corner. but don't take too long."

"Thanks. Micah, for the professional courtesy. I'll limit my sins to a greatest hits collection."


I went back to Monsegnior Camillo.

"I cleared it with Micah. Let's go find a quiet corner."

We did so.

I started with a slight variant of the opening line. "Forgive me father, for I am not Catholic."

That got a jump out of the padre. "Then whya did you aska for a confession."

"It was the only way I could talk privately with you. I need you help to get these ambassadors out of here."

" I am willing to help, but I don't know where to lead them to or how to avoid them blowing up the building during the escape."

" I will take care of the building situation, and I'll get the doggie to tell you where the exits are."

"My son, how cana doggie tella me where the exits are?"

"He can talk." I raised my hand. "He is the result of some experiments a few years ago. He is as smart as you or I and can talk and listen. He's my secret weapon. He's been wandering around, getting the lay of the land. I'll have him nuzzle you ear and whisper the route to you. Capeesh?"

"Capeesh."

"The message to start the exit will be my singing Ave Marie. Good enough?"

"Good enough, my son. What will you be doing?"

"Why, I'll be discussing religion with Micah over a beer." And I winked at him. "Now for my penance?"

"You penance is to sing two staves of Ave Marie, when Christ needs you to do so. Go with God, my son."

We headed back to the rest of the ambassadors....

[badgoodDeb]

Ooooo -- it's getting REALLY exciting now!!

Keep up the good work in hiding, doggy friend