Velma Valento/Helen Grayle

In part two we find Nick O'Tyme, Urbane Guerrilla, in his offices in Georgetown...


I had a hunch the size of the fleshy appendage between Julia Child's withers that Ryan wasn't being frank. You don't drink, chase skirt, or torture the son's of Allah with a man for 25 years without knowing something about him. Ryan is a Company man and for him lying is as instinctual as an afternoon wank. Picking up the remote I surfed over to MSNBC for a different perspective. An ad for male enhancement was on. My Celtic DNA means I'm short but thick. The only time I ever hit bottom is with the bar girls in Bangkok. These ads play to the average man's deepest insecurity. If a broad wants big let her find a John Shaft. Otherwise, shut yo mawf.
Abu Garcia! - the most dangerous cell operating outside Mosul today. These bastards make Bin Laden's pawns look like frat boys at a Homecoming toga party. I pressed "talk" on the desk's land line and asked Takiyah to step inside my office.
Takiyah's size 44 double D breasts walked through the door with the rest of her bringing up the rear. "Sweetheart, book a business class seat on the next available commercial flight to Springfield, Missorah," I said without looking away from the plasma tv. "And please forward the 'Abu Garcia' file as an attachment to my personal email addy. I'll read it on the flight out." As she turned away I thought to myself, 'Poor broad, she'll be kicking those puppies around the shower in just a few short years'. MSNBC was confirming that it was Abu Garcia terrorists inside the Bass Pro Shop complex.
I sat there surfing between MSNBC and CNN trying to figure out those people in the Middle East. Any religion that denigrates and treats women the way Islam does needs to be brought into the 21st century. Their hypocrisy is only a symptom of a deeper, darker misogyny that permeates their patriarchy. Here in the West we worship the female form, not try to keep it covered. Islamic feminism calls for women to equally share in the Jihad. The women want explosives with nails strapped under their O Abaya's. What a fucked-up culture! However you feel about W's Crusade, you can't argue they didn't cause it. It may take twenty years but sooner or later our side will prevail.
The cell phone inside my jacket buzzed. I knew it was Carolyn calling to apologize for her behavior this morning.
"Hi, hon," I schmoozed. "Everything okay?"
"Nicky, its all over the tv! I'm scared..."
"Carolyn, you're safe where you are. Take a Xanax and turn-off the news stations."
"Nicky, about this morning..."
"Honey, its perfectly okay. We are entitled to our moods."
"I hate myself sometimes, darling, for being such a bitch."
Carolyn's insecurity has never endeared her to me. My golf trophies on the mantle require less maintenance.
"Listen, babe, Ryan's people need me in on this and I have to fly out to Springfield. I'm going to miss the St. Patrick's dance at the Knight's of Columbus. You'll have to tell Father Fumagalli I won't be able to MC tonight."
I knew what she was thinking. Yes, I had promised we'd attend the dance. She had bought a new little black dress, to hang amongst the other little black dresses in the armoire. "Shock and Awe" is Carolyn's social function plan of attack. With a figure like hers the tailored designer outfits cling to her like the hide on a cypress swamp panther. What I don't understand is how less than a square yard of material costs $500. Anticipating her reaction to my absence tonight I went on the offensive..."Carolyn, the Spring Fling at the country club is just around the corner. We'll knock 'em dead next month."
"Oh yes, Nicky, its just..." her voice trailed off. "Okay, honey, will you promise you'll call me when you get to Springfield?"
"Yes, baby, I'll ring as soon as we hit the tarmac. Bye now."
"I love you, Nicky," she whispered.
"I know you do, honey, thank you." As I closed my cell over I realized I'll have to replace her with a younger woman in another year or two.
"Nick, I arranged your flight for 1 pm out of Ronald Reagan," Takiyah called from reception. "You'll have connections in Atlanta. And Detroit. And at O'Hare. You'll arrive shortly after 6 pm in Springfield."
It's only a 90 minute flight out of D.C. fer Christ's sake," I hollered.
"Nick, I have no control over the airlines."
"I know sweetheart, thank you for reminding me," I shot back.
"You know, Nick, your passive aggressive approach to anything that doesn't go your way is not endearing to any of us," Takiyah responded indignantly.
"Yeah, right...I know, I know," I said sheepishly. She was correct of course. Sarcasm in the hands of the wrong person is never acceptable.

To be continued...