Continuing… (It's Part 6 in the saga, I fucked up. Sorry.)
So, after a few re-fueling and impromptu cigar-purchasing stops in South and Central America, we wheel up to the deserted jetway at LAX.
“Thought we were going to Elmendorf?” I asked.
“This isn’t it?” the pilot replied, feigning worry.
“No.”, I replied, “Looks like California. Fruits and nuts. All around. What’s going on? One minute we’re off to Texas, then Cali, then Texas again, now we end up here at the California airport of the iconic tower.”
“Yeah, it’s confusing enough haulin’ civilians around. But when we get a call from Virginia, we tend to comply without any questions,” the pilot explains.
“Aw, shit!”, I sort of exclaim, “Rack and Ruin called?”
“Yeah”, the pilot replies, “Figures you’d know these guys. They said they were closer to LAX rather than Texas and had us divert here. In fact, you look over there, see that dark blue Chevy? That’s them; and evidently, your ride.”
I tipped the airman from earlier a couple of cigars as he helped me with my gear off the plane and into the trunk of Rack and Ruin’s plain-Jane blue late modeled Chevy. Had to move the Sidewinder Missiles off to one side, though.
“Most honorable Agents Lack and Luin!” I quipped in my faux-racist greeting. “What the hell, guys? I’ve got to get to Japan and get some newly rigidified digits.”
“Let’s see your hand”, Agent Rack asks. “Nasty.”
“Yeah”, I sigh “And with the medicos in South America and their penchant for plaster, I don’t so much have a left hand as more of an ankylosaur tail.”
“Or Thagomizer”, Agent Ruin tittered. “Anyone gives you grief, and one upside the head should set them right. Or dead.”
“You’re a riot, Ruin.” I replied, “But not entirely incorrect.”
We all agreed that I really didn’t need any extra accouterments to make myself look more dangerous. I mean with my severe haircut, stern beard clip, and perpetual ‘Go fuck yourself’ scowl.
“Yeah”, I replied, stroking the aforementioned beard, “I just can’t get that. I’m such a people person.”
After Agents Rack and Ruin finished drying their eyes from laughing what I thought was en extremis, we finally got down to business.
“So, what’s the skinny, guys”, I asked. “New marching orders?”
“No. Not as such”, Agent Ruin said, still sniggering over my ‘people person’ comment.
I see we’re moving. Agent Rack is just driving casually, like Chewbacca when they were waiting to see if the Empire went for that expensive Bothan code.
“Then, what?” I asked, getting a slight bit piqued.
“Well”, Agent Ruin noted, “When you went to South America, you took some of your artillery collection with, correct?”
“You know I did. You even made some snide comments about my personal choice of sidearms and their ‘excessive’ calibers, if memory serves”, I reiterated.
“And if you are proceeding normally, as you always do, they’re all nestled in the trunk of this very car. All cleaned, quiet, unloaded, and smelling sweetly of Hoppe’s Number 9 and WD 40, correct?” Rack inquired.
“Yes?” I cautiously venture.
“Well, ya’ big dummy, do you think they’re going to let you saunter into Tokyo armed like the Third Fleet?” Agent Ruin chuckled.
“Um…well…I do have a Diplomatic Passport.” I ventured.
“That’s not going to work this time.”, Agent Ruin said, shaking his head. “They’re tighter than Dick’s Hatband about sidearms. Want to bring in your Rigby SXS .500 Nitro Express double rifle? Not a problem. Sidearms, especially in your alien hunting calibers, nope.”
Well, that’s just….*dandy!”, I reply, semi-put out. “Now what the hell am I going to do?”
“Ever think that’s why Ruin and I are here, now?”, Rack asks.
“And here I thought it was just so you could bask in the warm glow of my fucking wonderful personality. Or that you actually cared about me as a real goddamn human”, I joshed.
“Ummm…yeah”, Rack replies, “There’s no way we can answer that without going on some Deadpool list. “
I agreed.
“OK, here’s the deal: you get your sidearms, ammunition, speed loaders, brass knuckles, Asp, laser range finders, Sap, Zeiss scopes, Kukri, Wisconsin Cheese Whittler, Buck folding skinner, Marine K-Bar, those two ultra-illegal Cheburkov Cobra titanium switchblades...”
“Three. Olga the KGB lady sent me one for Geologist’s Day.”
“Ahem. Those three ultra-illegal Cheburkov switchblades, that Wyoming Speedholer, your MASER Time-Distance Computer, garrote, pocket rail gun and whatever else lethal you carry and deposit it in the iron box in the trunk. We’ll ensure that it’s delivered to Esme post-haste. And by post-haste I mean one of our guys will deliver it personally.”
“Well…I suppose”, I conceded, “But best send someone who’s been to the house recently. I don’t know how much bigger Khan has grown since I left on this little fantasy trip. Wouldn’t want a star on the wall in Langley for someone eaten by a mastiff. Want to see a picture….Oh, bother. That’s right. My phone’s at the bottom of fucking Lake Maracaibo.”
“Good point”, Ruin interjects, “Guess we’ll do a little road trip and deliver it ourselves. Best call Esme and let her know what’s going on.”
“I have no objections to your proposals. Please give Esme this when you see her. I had some luck in the Calaveras Casino and if I don’t send her some mad money. Ouch. She’ll never forgive me for not taking her along to Japan.” I asked.
“But I thought Esme hated Japan? Too crowded and too ‘fussy’, I believe was her estimation.” Ruin asked.
“Yes, but once she saw the Ginza, all bets were off. Shopping the likes of which even Allah himself hasn’t seen.” I replied, slowly shaking my head.
“I see”, Ruin said, “Well, since you’re off to Sapporo, perhaps you can do a recon for Esme on the shopping there.”
“Not bad. Not bad at all.”, I smiled, “Now I know why I let you guys hang around with me.”
So, as advertised, I am now standing on the tarmac at LAX, basically feeling naked.
“Can’t I keep just one switchblade?” I moaned to Agent Rack.
“Go ahead, if you’re really keen on donating it to Japanese customs”, he replied.
“Fuckbuckets.” I groused.
“There, there now. That’s the usual Dr. Rocknocker of which we’re all so fond.” Agent Ruin chuckled.
“Remember, you do have that wallet-sized credit card gizmo from the Company. So you’re not entirely ‘naked’. Think of it as an emergency breechcloth.” He smiled.
“I’d like a larger model if you don’t mind. It’s chilly out here.” I joshed.
After Agents Rack and Ruin stripped me metaphorically naked as they de-weaponized me, they handed me a Business Class ticket to Tokyo, and a pass to the Japan Airlines Hospitality Suite and Lounge.
“So sorry you guys can’t hang around and have a few farewell snorts”, I chided, “But you’ve got a bit of a drive, so best be off before the weather turns to shit.”
“Who says we’re driving?” Agent Rack asked as he hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the ready and waiting C-130 cargo plane currently taxiing slowly in our direction.
“Well, in that case”, I smiled even more broadly, “Let’s invite the flight crew to join us. That’ll make the flight home all that much more interesting.”
After near tear-jerking farewell sentimentalities, i.e., “Piss on you”, “Get stuffed” and “Take a fuckin’ hike”; Agents Rack and Ruin, my weapons and the Agency’s plain-Jane Blue Chevy were all nestled snugger than buggers in ruggers in the belly of the thundering C-130.
Now truly on my own, I trudge the hundred thousand or so centisteps to my departure terminal, make a quick recon that my flight’s still slated to go in a generally westward direction, and hightail it to the nearest courtesy desk to ask for a motorized cart to take me and my remaining luggage to the JAL Hospitality Suite.
Hey. I’m old, infirm, and currently among the walking wounded.
Anyone that disagrees risks an Ankylosaur tail club swat or Thagomizer to the skull.
Finally ensconced in the JAL Hospitality Suite, Polo Lounge of course; I was drinking Tokyo Teas (3 oz. vodka, 2 oz. gin, 2 oz. rum, 1 oz. triple sec, 1 oz. Midori, good splash of lime juice, a slight splash of 7-Up (diet, of course), over ice with a lime wheel) with Pabst Blue Ribbon Extra 1844 chasers and Hangar One’s “Fog Point” vodka on the side, hiding from the brutish realities of this foul year of two thousand and twenty-something, Common Era…
I’ve already called Esme and we’ve had a good, long chat. She still managed to give me her shopping list for whenever I find myself bored on the Ginza.
She’ll be shocked when she learns that I’m not going to be in Tokyo long, but have 1st class tickets on the Bullet Train to Sapporo. Still, I’ll probably find myself in Pole Town or the Stellar Place there, trading piles of US greenbacks for locally produced Japanese curios and clothing.
I can hardly wait.
I order another round of drinks, as the wonderful attendants in the Hospitality Suite were bored out of their skulls because of the COVID-induced drop-in customers flying anywhere that requires a hospitality room stay, and I was virtually the only one around. They tried their level best to outdo each other when it comes to Japanese efficiency and friendliness.
After a couple of hours, they ask if I would like something from the grill, as the day chef had “the COVID” and the night chef just arrived. A quick perusal of the menu and I chose a 28-ounce dry-aged Porterhouse and another round of drinks.
I usually don’t like to eat too much before I fly, but JAL tells me the flight is going to be virtually empty, something like <121 pax, all told, so restroom availability shouldn’t be too much of a concern.
Plus, who am I to say no to a free, blue 28-ounce dry-aged Porterhouse?
There was a bit of difficulty conveying to the chef through the intermediaries of the hospitality just how I wanted my steak.
“Blue,” I said.
“Brue?” was the reply.
“Rare. Very, very rare.” I continued.
Look of total bewilderment.
I drag out my Personal Language Pro, speak “Steak, very, very rate” into the infernal gizmo, and hand the contraption to the attendant.
“珍しい、非常に珍しいステーキ?”[ Mezurashī, hijō ni mezurashī sutēki?]
“Raw! Nama!” I say, louder than need be.
They toddle off to find the chef.
“How is it sir, that you would like your steak cooked?” he asks.
“Very rare. Just a minute or two per side. Inside still cold.” I instructed.
All I got for the trouble was a puzzled smile.
“Give me the language gizmo…” I type in a few words…
“お尻を洗い、角をノックオフして、ここから出してください”
[O shiri o arai,-kaku o nokkuofu shite, koko kara dashite kudasai.]
“Wash its ass, knock its horns off, and walk it out here.”
“OH!” as the lightbulb pops. “Rare. Got it! Excellent!” the chef laughs and zips back to the kitchen.
Like I always say, I’m nothing if not the international ambassador of amity and goodwill.
“Crack tubes!”
Dinner was fantastic. I do wish I could have somehow mailed the Porterhouse bone back home for Khan. After that hambone incident, he might even taste it.
Finally on the plane, in an almost empty Business Class, the flight captain informs us that we’re headed to Haneda Airport Tokyo and anyone not headed in that direction better ‘haul ass off’ the flight or forever hold their peace.
Late-night international flights tend to be a bit more wooly than your average Chicago to Omaha gig.
Especially when the flight’s damn near empty and we have the next 12 hours or so to be best friends.
We taxi, turn and head into the wind. I’m doctoring up a couple of dossiers and keeping my personal cabin attendant, Luna since there were two of us in Business and two business flight attendants, busy with her trying to play ‘Stump the Geologist’.
“I’ll bet you never had this before.” She beamed and handed me a tumbler of very dangerous-looking brown liquor.
I cautiously sniff, take a modest gulp, swirl and glug the rest down.
“Ohishi Single Sherry Cask”, I say with a muffled belch. “Light. Fruity. An Englishman’s drink.”
“Oh. You knew. Let me try again.” She smiles beatifically.
“I have no objections to your proposal.” I smile as nicely as this crotchety old Komodo Dragon could.
She returns with another flagon of spirits; it smells of obsidian, leather, and earth.
I just had some of this back in LAX. I take a snort, smile, and shotgun the rest.
“Hibiki Japanese Harmony…lovely stuff.” I smile. “A little light for my jaded palate, but I’d never turn it down if it were free.”
“Oh, you win again. Wait. One more.” She smiles and skitters off to the galley.
She returns with another soupçon of some more dangerous brown liquor.
“Here, try this. It will make you very popular at social gatherings”. She smiles.
Sniff. “Splendid.” Snort. Swirl. Smile. Shotgun.
“Kanosuke New Born, if I’m not mistaken.” I smile back. “Very nice. I really do like this one.”
“You too good at this. One more!” she stands and stomps off defiantly. She returns in a trice and hands me the glass.
“Hmm…brown. Light notes of earth, leather, dating your daughter, and Kentucky…
“Beam Suntory, right?”
“You know them all!” she says, feigning irritation.
“And I thank you. Those were all excellent. Now, anything in the dangerous clear liquor category? I asked.
Luna smiled as I palmed off a 20k yen tip.
“Oh, no sir. Wait until we land.” She demurred, referring to the gratuity; which is know is not de rigueur in the Orient, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Just in case we never make it to Tokyo”, I laughed, unknowingly presciently.
We both chuckled about that last line as she tried out various sakes and shōchūs and an actual Japanese ‘White Liquor’ (ホワイトリカー), which were all excellent as was the company.
I tell her that I need to get some work done and could she bring me a tall Rocknocker. After explain the origins and construction of the eponymous drink, she brings me one that must tip the scales at 1 or so liters.
She settles down to an empty seat and I get after the work that I need to finish before we land. I’m about ½ way through my drink when it felt as if the plane hit a brick wall. She quivered and quaked and clutched at herself while I made some comments about the pilot’s mental health.
We dropped like a paralyzed falcon, then just as suddenly, felt like it was an express elevator to Angel’s 11. The plane bucked and shimmied, wickedly. Then we slam-danced right and fell a few more stories. It was like we were in a Mixmaster and the owner was trying out every speed.
The emergency lights in the 777-300ER popped on, and the fasten seat belt sign barked loudly so even sleeping travelers could enjoy the show.
Rinse. Spin. Shudder. Repeat.
Finally, the ride smooths out and we hear the captain on the blower.
“This is your captain speaking…ah, we seem to have hit some uncharted turbulence back there.”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious”, I muttered.
“Everything’s A-OK. “ he reports.
“That’s good”, I note.
“But…”
“There’s always the but…” I groan.
“…we have a couple of warning lights for which we can’t quite account. So to just be safe and certain, we’re going to divert to Hawaii, get a clean bill of health and resume this flight once we make sure everything here is hunky-dory.”
There were scattered groans and applause. Add them together and divide by two and the average response on the flight was “Meh. Whatever.”
Except for the other guy in Business, with whom I hadn’t shared two words. He began to absolutely lose his shit.
“Oh, man! We’re so screwed! Mechanical malfunction? What does that mean?” he positively fizzed with fear.
The flight attendants tried to calm him down, to no avail. They basically gave up and said they’d report his misgivings to the Captain.
I motioned over to my personal flight attendant, Luna, and asked if I could be of service.
“Oh, Doctor Rock”, she smiled at me, “If you could speak with him. You are so calm, and he is…”
“Losing his bloody mind”, I chuckled as I finished her sentence for her. “Of course, I’ll take a stab at it.”
So, I grab my drink and ease over to my Business Class partner and introduce myself.
“Hey, pal. How’s it going? I’m Dr. Rock, gentleman, scholar, and connoisseur of cigars and things alcoholic. You doing OK?”
He looks at me with an ashen face and his eyes the size of bloodshot dinner plates.
“Yeah. I’m Todd Schotts. I’m flying to Japan for business.” He mumbles
“No surprise there,” I reply calmly and take a slug of my drink.
“But now we’re all going to die. The plane is busted and we’ll crash…” he started off again.
“So, Todd is it? Good. You drink?” I asked.
“Yeah?”, he stammered back.
I asked Luna to make us a fresh batch of my eponymous cocktails.
“OK, Todd, listen up”, I began after the drinks were served, “I have flown literally millions of miles over the last 4 decades. On Aeroflot when it was still the USSR. On TACA (Take A Chance Airways), on Chalk’s in the Caribbean, on Bob’s Verrifast Plane Company in Rhodesia, on regional carriers that don’t even exist anymore. All over the world. Had some bad experiences flying, and me ol’ mugger, this ain’t one of them. This is nothing more than the glitch for this mission.”
I chuckled lightly and complimented Luna on a fantastic drink.
“Yeah…yeah…yeah…but we have to land and check out some lights…” Todd squealed.
“Well now, Todd. It would be rather difficult to do any external assessment while in flight, don’t you agree?” I asked.
“But we’re diverting. We have to land and that adds more risk. We’re going to crash and die!” he was coming more and more unglued.
“I will bet you every cent you have on your person and home bank accounts that that will not happen”, I chuckled.
That took him by surprise. At least it shut him up for a while.
“Look, Todd. This is Boeing’s latest model. They have the most incredible safety record. And if a little clear air turbulence were to be knocking planes out of the sky, don’t you think we’d hear about it as the press went berserk?” I asked.
“But they don’t know what the lights mean! What if one of the engines’s out? How far can we fly on one engine?” Todd stuttered.
Having my fill of a supposedly grown man with inane childlike fears, I calmly replied,
“All the way to the crash site.”
He went white.
“...hope we hit something hard. I don’t want to limp away from this.”
He went limp.
Then I went to my seat and motioned for Luna to prepare a reload.
Of course, 45 minutes later, we land without incident at Daniel K. Inouye International Airport, Honolulu Hawaii.
We were told to just wait around until they figure out what the problem if any, was.
They had officials waiting at the end of the jetway to check our COVID status and passports before they let us loose in the terminal.
I asked Luna if she knew this airport. She noted that she did.
“Is there a JAL hospitality room here at this airport? I asked.
“Yes, Doctor. It’s the Sakura Lounge. It is located on the third level above The Local, Terminal 2.” She replied.
“Please notify whoever needs to know that that’s where I’ll be for the duration”, I smiled and handed her my business card. “See you soon, I hope.”
“Oh, Dr. Rock”, she replied, “I am sure it is nothing much. We’ll be back in the air within mere hours.”
“Well then”, I smiled, “Guess I’d better get ready to hoof it to the lounge.”
“Oh, Doctor Rock”, she smiled, “No rush. I will call for you a courtesy cart. You are injured, you are Business, you are priority.”
“I love that Asian efficiency.” I smiled back and toddled down the jetway.
At the terminus of the jetway, I show my COVID-clear papers, dates and times of my Anti-Virus vaccine administrations, the letter from Virginia clearing me of all detention, and my red Russian diplomatic passport.
While in the cart, whizzing our way to the JAL lounge, the driver said “Man! You must be some kind of VIP. You were through that welcoming committee in less than two minutes!”
“Me? Nah!”, I chuckled, “Just an old phart of a geologist that they didn’t want to mess with. Not on such a bright, sunny day as this.”
“I see you’re not wearing a mask.” The driver quipped.
“Very observant. There are reasons for that.” I replied.
He careens around a corner and if this were a normal pre-Covid day, I’m certain we’d have killed hundreds. However, the airport, as I’ve come to grow accustomed to, was virtually deserted.
“Yeah? Like what?” he asks.
“Well, Scooter, 1. I have an active and hardworking immune system that I let off the chain every once in a while for exercise. Got to let it know what it’s up against, right? 2. I’ve had all my shots and some that were experimental. They seem to have worked. And 3. I find it difficult to drink and smoke cigars while wearing a mask. However, if you’d prefer, I will mask up. No problem, though it still is optional.”
“Nah, man”, he said, “I was just wondering if you were one of those religious idiots or conspiracy nuts.”
Nope”, I smiled back, “Just another geologist out in the world plying his trade for cash. Y’know, whorin’ around for money.”
He laughs aloud as we skid to a stop right in front of Lounge.
I slip the guy a $20 and ask if he’d listen for the JAL flight I was just on. If we’re going on ahead today, I’d need him to scoot by and putt-putt me back to the plane.
He laughs and pockets the $20 as quick as a mink ruts.
“No worries. I’ll just hang around this area. I hear anything about the flight, I’ll come and let you know.” He grins.
“Good man”, I say, as I hand him my card. “I’m Dr. Rocknocker. Call me Rock”.
“And I’m Kapula Mano, call me Kap” he replies.
“Good man”, I say again, “Hope to see you in a while.”
He grins, floors his electric cart, and peels out at speeds approaching 4.5 MPH.
I wander into the lounge, show my credentials, and am escorted to a post up on Mahogany Ridge.
The bar is very quiet. Besides the bartender, I can’t see anyone else in the darkened and Smooth Jazz-infused drinking emporium.
I order a local drink, a Mai Tai, just for the experience and something a bit different.
It’s served in a goldfish bowl on a stem, bedecked with a slice of lime, a sprig of mint, a stick of sugar cane, a polychromatic orchid, and the obligate paper umbrella.
“Ah. Mai Tai. I will enjoy it.” I said to no one in particular.
One was enough, and I decided to go back to the old standard. Once I explained to the bartender what that was, he made them heroic and enthusiastically.
I’m reading up on a random dossier, making notes in a new file, and puffing away on a Fuentes Onyx double Maduro Churchill cigar.
I hear a slight cough coming from my right, and this here lovely lady, she sat to my immediate starboard and looked at me semi-quizzically.
Not in the mood for shenanigans of any stripe, I give her the obligate Baja Canada nod and tilt of the drink. I return to my dossiers and continue to read and take notes.
“Excuse me!” I hear.
Fearing the worst, either the woman is Karen-oid anti-smoking or a religious fruit-and-nutburger, I slowly turn to face her and reply, somewhat glacially, I have to admit.
“What?”
“That cigar…”
“Here we go…” I mutter, eyes rolling northward.
“Smells exquisite. Could you tell me the brand? My husband would enjoy some like that.” She notes.
Instantly my demeanor switches 180^0.
“Yes, ma’am. It’s an Arturo Fuentes Onyx. Churchill size, or 60 ring x 7” length, double Maduro. Here, take one for your husband. I have an ample supply.” I smile.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t. Could I?” she asks.
“Please. I insist.” I smile the best I could given the circumstances.
“Thank you. You’re too kind…umm…Mr….?”
“Doctor. Doctor Rocknocker. World traveler, oilman, and international ambassador of amity, good drinks, and fine cigars. Call me Rock” I said.
“Oh! A Doctor?” she brightens.
“Yes, of Petroleum Geology and Engineering. Not medicine.” I chuckle.
She chuckles back.
“And I am Hella Aaberg”, as she offers her hand for a quick shake.
“Interesting name, Hella. Scandinavian or Old German heritage?” I ask.
“On my father’s side. He’s Finnish.” She replies.
“But I’ll wager your mother is not Scandinavian, correct?” I ask.
“She was from Truk, an island…”
“In the South Pacific, Micronesia. Was she from Weno city?” I asked.
“Why yes. How could you possibly know that?” she asked.
“Oh, I’ve been there. Great diving amongst the WWII wrecks. I think it’s actually called ‘Chuuk Lagoon’ or something like that now.” I said.
“That’s right! Amazing. Where else have you been?” she asked.
“Anywhere there’s oil, strife, booze, cigars, heavy explosives and typically long distances from whatever most normal people call civilization,” I replied with a chuckle.
Suddenly, I hear a voice booming out behind me.
“Why don’t you save that rapier-like wit for those musky-fuckers back home, Rocko?”
My expression changes. My eyes pop fully wide open.
“Hella?” I asked.
“Yes?”
“May I ask you a favor?”
“You can ask…”
“Thank you. Now, looking over my shoulder, is there a hulking goon of a person, thin up top, paunchy halfway down with the most ridiculously tiny sized shoes you’ve ever seen for a so-called grown man?” I ask.
“Yes. Yes, there is.” She replies.
“I thought so. Many thanks.”
I spin and launch off my barstool and grab Toivo by the hand. He hadn’t seen my left-hand Thagomizer yet.
“Toivo! You old sumbitch. What the flying fennec fox fuck are you, of all people, doing in Hawaii?” I laughed.
“Just keeping an eye on you, Rock!” he laughed equally as loud.
“No, fucking-A, seriously. What the actual fuck? What are you doing in this actual nice place?” I asked.
“Just headed to Tokyo to conduct a bit of service company business. I walked into the lounge and smelled a foul cigar. I figured it can’t be the venerable Dr. Rocknocker. He’s back at some school up north terrorizing geology and engineering grads and undergrads.” Toivo laughed.
“But there I was. Surprise!”, I laughed and pumped his hand.
“What the fuck, Rock. Now what did you do?” he asks, referring to my Ankylosaur tail club left hand.
“Ah, fuck. Long story. Oh, pardon me. Toivo, this is Hella. We were just talking about the South Seas Islands.” I said.
“Planning on running off together?” Toivo laughs, to the amusement of neither party.
“Oh, and this idiot is Toivo, a man with a congenital foot-in-mouth disorder. He’s mostly harmless.” I noted to Hella.
Greetings were shared all around. Hella made some small excuses and said she needed to depart. I gave her another cigar for her husband, shook her hand, and wished her well.
“Here’s my business card. If your husband has any questions, have him drop me a line.” I noted.
Hella smiled beautifully. She said she would. Then she thanked me shook our hands, and like that, there she was, gone.
“Well Toivo, you old bastard. Don't just stand there in the doorway like some lonesome goddamn mouse shit sheepherder, get your ass over here and have a drink.” I motioned over to my perch on Mahogany Ridge.
“Don’t mind if I do”, he says as he deftly winds his way to a seat to my left, snagging a cigar out of my pocket on the way over.
“You might want these”, I say in an exasperated tone, and hand him my gold Dunhill Hobnail lighter and V-cutter gizmo.
He cuts and fires up his heater.
“What you drinkin’, Rock”, he asks.
“Anything with alcohol, as usual. You know that Toiv.” I reply.
“No. I mean right now.” He clarifies.
“Well, I had a Mai Tai. Very nice if you like fruity, flowery drinks. It’s the locals’ favorite.” I reply.
“Sounds good. I’ll have several. And you?” Toivo asks.
“My usual. The bartender is already apprised of the situation.” I reply.
Toivo smiles the smile of one knowing his sobriety is going to be taken out for a swim. Hell, taken out and tossed into the deep end.
Toivo and I sit there, swapping lies, smoking cigars and sipping at our toddies.
Hell, Toivo was slurping them like a sump-pump during an extra-wet summer.
We chattered about family, work, whether or not Tokyo was going to host the Olympics or if the COVID-boogie man scared everyone off.
Toivo, always one afflicted with TB (“Tiny Bladder”) got up to go to the loo for the third time that hour. He left his pocket organizer on the bar and I swear on a stack of Origins of Species, I didn’t touch it.
I reached over to his vacated seat to retrieve my cigar lighter when I looked down and saw in his organizer a tab that reads “Rack & Ruin”.
“Oh. No. Fucking. Way.” I recoiled as I’d just reached out and petted a 6-foot hungover scorpion.
“One of my best friends? Secretly allied with the Agency? No. Not possible.” I drained my drink and called for another.
“No. No. No. It can’t be. No. No fucking way…” as doubt began to dissolve when I thought back to all those times I had just ‘run into’ Toivo.
“But he’s oil patch as well. That could be chalked up to coincidence.” I ruminated quizzically in my brain.
I quickly reflected back on J.M. Darhower: “Yes, you see, there’s no such thing as coincidence. There are no accidents in life. Everything that happens is the result of a calculated move that leads us to where we are.”
She may be the author of the execrable New Adult Sempre series, which Esme likes and I loathe, but she might just be right on this occasion.
Toivo return, lighter in the bladder and good sense. He never even noticed he’d left his organizer out in broad bar light for all to see.
“So, Toivo, when’s your flight?” I ask.
“Oh, man. Was I lucky. The JAL flight to Tokyo from Los Angeles had mechanical trouble and had to divert here. I got a ticket on the plane for that flight, when it continues.
“You mean ‘if it continues’,” I replied.
“Yeah. Yeah. That’s what I meant. Hey! Was that your flight?” he asks innocently. He’s really innocent of fieldcraft.
I decide to have some fun at my old friend’s expense.
“Yep. Hit some CAT (Clear Air Turbulence) and the JAL pilots reported some lighting problem. No apparent ruin to any of the systems. They relay racked their brains to figure it out, but they couldn’t that’s why I here.” I said, waiting for the words to swim upstream in Toivo’s coconut and make some sort of connection.
“Yeah. Double lucky. No problem with the plane and I get to go to Japan early.” Toivo crookedly grins.
“So, no trouble with the plane? Then why haven’t I heard that the flight’s going to resume?” I asked as I pushed a fresh, seriously strong drink to Toivo.
“Oh, must have heard it in the john.” Toivo countered and tried to cover his tracks by taking a huge gulp of his drink and damn near dying coughing.
I pound on Toivo’s back.
“Heimlich time?” I ask.
Toivo signals ‘no’.
“Jesus Christ, Rock. What was that?” he asks.
“Just my usual”, I innocently replied.
“Holy fuck. No wonder you have the reputation of…” Toivo realizes too late that he’s said too much.
“Yeah. They can rack you out. Really ruin a person if they’re not careful.” I reply icily.
“Why, Rock. Whatever do you mean?” Toivo slurred as he realized he’s been caught out.
“The jig is up, you turncoat. You know Agents Rack and Ruin from the agency. Right? You keeping tabs on me for them? You Quisling! You Benedict Arnold!” I almost was on the verge of losing my cool.
“It was nothing. They approached me years ago as I kept being mentioned in your reports. They asked me for some information. One thing leads to another…” Toivo was ready for an Ankylosaur tail club swat to the bean.
“Oh, put your fucking hands down, you asshole.” I smiled and chuckled.
“You’re not mad?” Toivo slurred badly. I had the bartender make him another special drink.
“No, Toivo. Not mad. Just disappointed.” I said, smiling like a Komodo Dragon just finishing up a fortnight-old wildebeest.
Toivo sat there and puzzled and puzzled until his puzzler was sore.
“You’re not going to kill me or anything rude like that?” Toivo asked, half-assedly trying to inject humor into the proceedings.
“Nah. The paperwork’s too ridiculous for me to do another liberation. But, Jesus Fucking Christwagons, Toivo; you could have mentioned it to me. Fuck, I thought we were friends to the end?” I said, dejectedly.
I was really getting through to Toivo. I could tell he was loaded; feeling like shit and massively deplorable.
Great fieldcraft, indeed.
I told him things “are what they are” and that I won’t blow his cover nor his honorarium.
He began to feel better. I often wonder if he was serious about the sanctioning thing.
Then I delivered the strategic missile strike.
“Just remember, Toivo. I wrote your dossier for the Company…”
He swivels to look at me.
“And one for the KGB. Olga says ‘howdy’.” I grin evilly.
Toivo short-circuited at that. Russia is his company’s bread and butter. Now he has the KGB as well as his best buddy looking over his shoulder at every move.
I bought him a few more drinks and continued to needle him about his ’leading a double life’. He was well and truly fuckered when the electric tap-tap driver from before came looking for me to whisk me back to the plane.
Seems it was simply some knocked-out wires on the plane, or slammed bulbs that were generating a false positive, indicating something other than the system that alerts one to something haywire went haywire.
Toivo was pretty much down for the count. I got him sober enough to hand them his ticket and ensure that he was really supposed to be on this flight. Thing was; h e was in Economy, and I was, as always, in Business.
I spoke to Luna, and the plane was going to be even less crowded than previously because some folks could or wouldn’t wait, or didn’t want to go on with the rest of the trip on a ‘damaged’ aircraft, or were just stupid and superstitious.
“Luna, could I pay for the difference between Business and Economy for my less than 100% conscious friend here? He’s had a rough day.” I asked.
“Dr. Rock. Just put him into Business. No one will be the wiser. Luna says so.” As she gave us a grand smile.
“Luna, I owe you. Thanks so much.” I said.
“Now get on board. Your friend looks like he needs all the downtime he can get.”
“Yes, ma’am!” I said and saluted here be best I could which dragging a schnozzled Toivo down the jetway.
I dumped Toivo in a window seat well away from my seat. I know Toivo. He snores like a semi-load of live hogs rocketing downhill locking up the brakes at 88 MPH.
Surprise! There was no one else in Business. Luna looked at me, at Toivo, and gave me a thumbs up.
Whatever I can write to further her career at JAL, she’ll have it before I deplane.
We finally get everyone settled, and with Captain Kangaroo at the helm, we bounced gracelessly off the tarmac, into the warm, tropical Hawaiian air, finally headed for the Land of the Rising Sun.
Toivo was snoring like a chainsaw hitting rusty nails as I worked on the various letters, communiques, and dossiers which needed updating before we reached touchdown. I gave Luna a thick letter with instructions not to open it until we were on the ground and Toivo and I were well off and away into the terminal.
We left Hawaii at 1300 hours, so we should arrive at Tokyo Nareda around 4:00 pm, the previous day. I was so bereft of time and time zones, I couldn’t figure out what time it really was, as judged by my biometric rhythms, so I asked Luna for a stiff drink as I was kicking off my boots and going to attempt to get some kip.
She brought me another liter or so eponymous drink. I was sawing logs by the time I slurped the last swig of that nifty drink.
Suddenly, or later, I have no idea really, some loudmouth drunk asshole from way-the-fuck-back in economy-land toward the ass end of the plane staggered into Business demanding free drinks.
Luna was nothing but civil, and asked him to both shut up and return to his seat. His air cabin hostess, or whatever the fuck they’re calling them these days, will attend to his needs.
“Naw they won’t! They want me to pay for more drinks! I’m broke but I demand more booze! You fucking owe me.” railed the asshole. “I sat at the bar in Hawaii for four hours. Them fuckers charged me an arm and a leg!”
“No, they don’t owe you shit”, I said in a voice that unmistakably loud and clear.
“Fuck you, old man! You stay the fuck out of this!” he bellowed. “Shut up or I’ll do ya’!”
“’Old man’? ‘Do me’? Excuse me. Luna, may I have a word alone with this individual?” I asked sweetly.
Luna shook her head in the affirmative, and I stood up to confront this flagrant asshole.
“Now look, Scooter. You have gone way, way over the fucking line. You are loud. You are abusive. You are obnoxious. And you stink. Plus you insulted a person who is just barely containing his righteous wrath right now. So, I’m giving you one and one only chance to shut up, sit back down before your body spontaneously develops all sort of bruises, contusions, broken bones, and unconsciousness.” I said calmly, evenly, and threateningly.
“What da’ fuck you think you’re going to do…old man?” he screeched, trying to inflate himself into full mammalian threat posture, all 5’ 9” of it.
He didn’t notice Toivo walking up quietly behind him, as Toivo was returning from the head, quiet as a moose.
“Well, Scooter, I am an Air Marshall. Duly appointed, fully trained, and properly pissed off. Right now, I can arrest you, physically detain you, turn this flight around and take you to the Hawaiian police, at your cost for the inconvenience of the entire flight. Or I could arrest you, physically detain you, and turn you over to the Japanese authorities when we land. It’s really your choice. Choose wisely.”
To be continued…⇝

Rachel Schneider
ENG 477
Date 1/11/2021
Marsha Blackburn
A Writing Portfolio
I want to write my own fiction stories one day; I have had a book or two swimming around in my head so I will put the computer to good use and get that typed out one of these days. In this instance I chose my 5 stories and even though one is a marketing inquiry I had fun writing it, so here are my things and some background some of them.
Resume: It is a basic one because my photo ones were not particularly good, and this is an honest resume besides the ones I made for class and I did fudge on those.
Cover letter: I made up the cover letter though there is a penguin Books but it is always fun to use your imagination!
Hike with Drew: I got the concept from a Writer’s Digest and entered it into a contes I never got a response but good practice.
Short Story Vegas: Was one I did for another class but in here I changed it and the story was much better the second time.
Marketing Flyer: This was fun to do those are stock photos of the dogs and squeaky toys, but I like Pit Bulls and dog toys are fun as well.
Scott part 1-This is a story I am working on with another writer, warning its very sexy and some naughty words are in there as well.
Writing Samples: I made these three samples up one day because as I have looked for writing work, I have seen people want a sample of your work, so I came up with these.
Rachel
Schneider
​
3867 Houghton Ave Riverside CA 92501 📷
951-743-8911 📷
[email protected] 📷
Rachel Schneider 📷
Rachel7Tori-Twitter 📷
📷
​
Objective
To get a career going in the fiction/short story writing industry my imagination can run with any scenario and to write is to live.
📷
​
Education
Bachelor of Arts in English | Grand Canyon University
2017 – 2021
Took 15 different writing courses, creative writing and even two fun marketing classes all to polish up my craft. Carried a 3.0 GPA and did the courses all online as well.
No Degree Obtained | Riverside Community College
June 1994 – December 1996
Took these college courses but did not finish got 32 Units of Child Development Courses though which is what I was going for
📷
​
Experience
Cafeteria Worker 1
2008 Currently Employed.
Cook, Prep, serve food in a middle school setting, also clean, count inventory and do next day prep, cash handling and POS register experience.
Bell Ringer | Salvation Army
November 2007 – December 2007
Rang bell and collected donations for the salvation Army in front of various stores during the holiday season.
📷
​
Skills
Food handlers Card
CPR First Aid certified
​
Grammar Proficiency
Spelling Proficiency
Can work from home
📷
​
Activities
Have good use of social media and can help update or bring in new followers with my creative writing side. Have a Reddit account as well with 30 stories up on that site. Can speak a little Spanish and Hebrew as well.
951-743-8911
[email protected]
3867 Houghton Ave Riverside CA 92501
​

Rachel Schneider

Writer

​
​

Penguin Books

​

Dear JENNIFER MCGREGOR,

1/21/2021
Jennifer McGregor
Fiction Publisher
4587 Tropicana Rd.
Las Vegas NV 89102
​
I have included my resume for the short story writer for young adult novels. It has been a few years, but I currently work in a middle school, so I do see all the angst and sass that goes with being a young teen. I do hope my writing samples can help me move to the top of the list. I look forward to working with Penguin Books and letting kids know being a teen is hard at first, but it does not last forever.
Sincerely,
Rachel Schneider
Rachel Schneider
3867 Houghton Ave
Riverside CA 92501
It had been a long cold winter Drew and I could not get out for a morning hike till today. Being 75 degrees, we did not have to wear many layers. He is an extremely sweet inquisitive boy who always asks a lot of questions. Why does moss grow on the north side of trees” he asks? Its times like this when it would be nice to have my husband here, but he is overseas where the work is. “well, it’s not just the north side it’s on the shadier side because that is where the moisture is.”
On we went looking at snails on the ground watching the deer pass by along a ridge. Being quiet as to not startle them. “Mom he whispered it’s a bunny den they are coming out for food, he leaves a few carrot and lettuce scraps from last night’s dinner. I walked down the path and spotted some glorious Blue Jays and a Downey Woodpecker. “Listen Drew the woodpecker is getting the bugs out of the trees.” My sweet Drew was staring at the Bunnies, they are cute and fluffy after all. We followed our path down further after the bunnies went back to the den.
The skies were getting cloudy, so I hoped the rain was not going to come back. Though the weather report said there was a chance. My little explorer with his school uniform on was undeterred, I wish I could wear shorts on a 75 day and not be cold, it is always nice to be young. Walking along our path we spot some squirrels running in circles around the tree. “Why do the chase each other like that” Drew asks. “Maybe it’s a game for them like ring around the Rosie.”
On we trek to our favorite stream where the deer family are taking their drinks. I tell Drew we cannot skip stones right now we do not want to scare them. We look through the grass for more of his favorite bugs, saw some worms just below the dirt by a tree. Looking up we see a big spider web being made between two branches. The crows were making their calls in the distance. We are finally able to skip our stones in the stream. He gets some great skips going, and we collect some new rocks for our little garden back home.
Walking past the stream we climb up the embankment and up along the ridge where we see a Fox off in the distance. He or she walks the opposite direction we are going so it is a relief we can continue to the clearing. Where there are more bugs, rocks, and Bunnies. We pass the Deer family as they run up the hill to were, they mostly frolic or maybe they live up there. We stop for a snack of Apples, Almonds, and some cheese sticks. When we were finished Drew put a couple of slices in his pocket to feed the Bunnies, I am sure.
“Mommy we’re getting to the clearing now we can see the Bunnies and the last time Daddy, and I were here I got some neat rocks too.” Drew told ne enthusiastically, I did love his passion for nature, though again my husband is much better at the nature stuff. I am a pastry Chef ask me about desserts and I am your woman, about why moss grows on trees and hello Google. Since Dad is unavailable, I step in and let him explore and see the world outside of the house and off the screen.
It is just another half mile and it is on to the clearing. He starts to pull me hand a little harder I know he is excited. We pass under the tree I glance up and see the Fox again. Then we stop and see “Daddy home……
Name: Rachel Schneider
Course: ENG 361
Date: 4/14/2020
Instructor: Debbie Graves
One Week In Las Vegas
The countdown started Friday at 2pm I got the week off from this thing I call a job (just over broke). The car was packed, it was time to hit the road. The traffic was average and climbing the Cajon Pass was not that bad. I stopped in Baker to have my favorite meal at Bob’s Big Boy, the chili spaghetti, no onions. After making my way back on the highway the traffic picked up going out of Baker, through to Primm and Stateline. I had to stop for gas at Whiskey Pete’s, so I also went in and got some snack goodies. My favorite trail mix and some cheese potato chips because vending machines are too expensive. The road was beckoning so off I went, traveling through Jean is always nice, not much to see. A prison, a few remaining casinos, some outbuildings, and a truck stop. There slogan was always fun 40 smiles closer than Vegas. You can get bored so be sure to pack some music you can have your own car concert. “I’ll face it with a grin I’m never giving in, on with the show” (Show Must Go on by Queen)
Finally, the Vegas skyline is in sight, the lights are not on yet, but they will be needing to navigate around the strip. I do say a few words the terrible drivers. This vacation was so needed my job is crazy, my kids are older now and do not need mom around anymore. Off they went to grandma’s house and I booked the week at the Delano, it is attached to the Mandalay bay so perfect access to all the fun of the strip, and just enough luxury to not look cheap. Getting the valet to take the car I check into my genuinely nice room I have a great view of the Luxor light (that comes off the top of the hotel) and the Excalibur. Now off to indulge in that genuinely nice bathtub and get some overdue reading done. My bathroom with a view has the Luxor light and that is the brightest light on the Vegas strip it comes right out of the top of the Pyramid shaped hotel. A brightness of 42.3 billion candela, you could read a paper from 10 miles straight up if you wanted to.
Once I was well soaked and finished with my chapters it was time to find something to eat besides my snack foods. After cruising the room service options, I settled on some Mexican food of chorizo and eggs with nice corn tortillas. That hit the spot so with the extra energy it was time to get out for a stroll of the property. The indoor pool is nice but small and I want to soak up the sunshine and get some exercise so I shall hit the outdoor pool tomorrow. Back in the lobby I grab those ads for things to do in the city so I can plan out the rest of my trip. There are thousands of things to do in Vegas. Do not be disappointed if you do not get everything done, that is what the next trip is for. I have a beautiful week and I want to have a good time and not have to wait for anybody, I can do what I want. I got those and cruised up through the lobby and toward the casino on my way there I saw a sign for a food and wine festival. With that guy Zac from the travel channel. Thinking hmm I did not know he was interested in food or wine. I went down and found my favorite penny slot game Lucky cat. After 15 minutes I came out putting 20 in and winning 500, so I called it a night and went to the bar to catch a hockey game and grab a fun fruity drink (I like tequila sunrise, (Tequila, grenadine, and cranberry juice). As I am rooting for the Golden Knights (local Vegas hockey team) I looked over to my left and there was Zac from the travel channel, and he likes hockey too this is awesome, and I am trying not to be a fan girl.
The game was in intermission and the Knights were winning so it was time for a new fruity drink so this time I turned around to get back to the bar and bumped right into Zac, boy was my face red. After some apologies and an offer to buy my next fruity drink (a Strawberry Daiquiri) it was a yes and I spilled that I was a fan. He told me he does have an interest in food and wine not just chasing ghosts with his crew. We had some great conversation and when the game came back on, we both sat in the booth cheering the golden knights to their victory. Now I am buzzed and standing up was going to be fun, but Zac was a true gentleman and helped me to my feet. He offered to buy me dinner. The Taco Hut was a good place the tortillas were fresh, and the company was so cool. The conversation turned to food, wine, travel, and some stuff about me. The midnight hour rolled around, and Zac had an early morning, so we said goodnight, but he was staying one floor above me, so we agreed to go to the diner in the lobby for breakfast or brunch. At 10am I was enjoying my company and this great stick to your ribs breakfast (scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns and some great watermelon) The food offerings in Vegas are so varied you can get everything from a hot dog and beer for 1.99 at the Orleans, to a 5-star meal at Caesar’s Palace the buffets are great too. Although sometimes you want a nice sit-down dinner.
The conversation was effortless the attraction was deep. We made plans to see each other again after the food contest he was judging was over. Saying goodbye was a bit hard but the hand holding was sweet and made me feel like a schoolgirl again. After saying goodbye and I did watch him walk into the convention hall I went back to my room to plan out the rest of my day. I chose a tour of the Mob Museum, they say that Vegas was built with Mob money, but it was a Mormon founded town that later Hollywood discovered. Then many people in Hollywood who were well connected (such as East Coast mobsters) financed Bugsy Segal to build the Flamingo Hotel. As I was putting my shoes on, I got a knock on the room door and as I opened it, I got some flowers (pink roses) and an all-access pass to the food and wine festival courtesy of Zac. Let us just say the Mob Museum can wait for later I got to go to a food and wine festival and spend the rest of the week with Zac. “hi Zac thanks for the flowers it was sweet of you to remember.” He said, “It’s always right to remember a ladies flower preference because that’s the right thing to do.” Smiling the rest of the day I meet other travel channel celebrities and got to taste some great foods and many different wines. The food and wine offerings at the hotels and restaurants are varied, the Las Vegas area have become very international, so the varieties are endless.
The week went by in a blur of food, wine, conversation, and some sweet dates. I never thought I would get over the break-up that happened the week before. Getting a private Vegas tour was something completely special. I did get to see the Mob Museum, Mandalay Bay Fine Art Museum, seven magic mountains, Pinball Hall of fame and a private dinner at the food and wine festival. My days in Vegas were down to one. We had reservations at Rivera right here at the Delano the view is amazing, the food is impressive with Italian and French offers. “I have had a wonderful time this week Zac thank you for mending my broken heart.” He looked at me for a minute and said, “it’s been a pleasure to get to know you and I would not mind visiting your hometown, you always have a reason to come back to Las Vegas. The next food and wine festival is around Christmas, this one will include chocolate.” Hitting the 15 early the next morning I have visions of Christmas, a pass to the food and wine festival, also a brand-new relationship to take back home with me.
The End
When writing a short story, you want to keep it from rambling and have enough details to keep it fresh. When your reader gets into the story you want them to feel like they are there with you, going to the food and wine festival, on that hike through the seven-mountains or touring the mob museum. The details are the thing to see and make sure to watch out for punctuation and common language. An average short story is within 6,00 words or 24 pages. If you wanted too you could go short-short story and that is between 500 and 2,00 words. That comes out to be 6 pages (Minot, Steven Ch. 7 pg. 41), talk about short stories. The story is all your length and style matter as much as how you want it to come into focus.
Minot, Steven and Theil Daniel Three genres the writing of literary pose, poems and plays Ninth edition Pearson Publications 2012
Bouncing Dog Toy Emporium
August 18,2019📷📷
24755 Holly Grove Way
Brookings OR, 97415
Dear Dogs, Rule the World
I am Rachel Schneider from the Bouncing Dog Toy Emporium we make extra bouncy dog toys for our furry friends. We investigated different marketing companies and choose you to do our direct to customer marketing. The way the website is set up the customers can get the product’s directly from you is easier than a multi-level marketing plan. The distribution of Bouncy Dog Toy will be a one level channel, we will provide the toys you market, and we sell them. I would like to get some videos of our company dogs Mac and Stella playing with the toys so you can post on the website. A link for the company can also be included so the consumers know where the toys came from, what they are made of and any other facts about Bouncing Dog Toy Emporium.
Sincerely, Rachel V Schneider
Mac and Stella company dogs and testers 📷
📷 📷📷 📷A sample of our products, our bounciest toys.
Scott’s Story Part 1
I am Scott Thorn, and I am going back to WDU for the first time in 15 years, I went here for a year but after I came out as gay there really were no gay dudes. I am all men but yeah lesbians were all around some BI guys but no real gay dudes. I went back to the mainland and attended Preston University I majored in administration and minored in Literature. I did at one point in my life have a girlfriend and wanted to marry her, but I could not quash the gay lifestyle. That part of my life is over and now the old school offered me a counseling job, have not done this in a while. I get to help students toward there after college career.
I sit here on this boat and keeping an eye on my 75 Triumph I have some nerves, but it is mostly about seeing this place again, so as the boat pulls up, I get my bike going and make a stop at my new on campus apartment. Its west facing because I like sunsets more than sunrise, so I did not know it needed so much work. I have some handy skills but a little at a time. The kitchen is decent and so is the bathroom. The floors will need some polish and the deck needs to be stained, this is a duplex, so I hope the neighbors are quiet. It is furnished and done nicely so I cannot complain too much, but back on the bike to see the Dean.
I get my bike set with the kill switch and walk up the way to the Admin building, I am pretty much the only one dressed. I am wearing my good black jeans and my dress shirt, in my favorite color Maroon. I do remember this place was obsessed with sex so I will stick out wearing clothes, as I enter the building at least more admin people are dressed. Miss Grant the secretary shows me to my new office, its spacious much bigger that my last one at Preston where I shared a cubicle with another person. I have files from past students and current ones, so I started filing them when Dean Kane walks in, booty shorts and a tank top. “Welcome back to WDU Scott, we look forward to seeing you succeed you come very recommended.” I could hardly concentrate because this Dean was hung but I persevered and said, “Thank you sir I look forward to helping young students find there after WDU careers.”
After he left, I had to get my rise to settle then I continued filing and looking through some files. Clarissa Love that was a name that got around even all the way to Preston. I think she does the Jax in the bedroom or something like that. I started looking around and thought I need some life in this office so I asked Miss Grant about decorating and she said I could do what I wanted but no painting, so I went to town and checked out a flea market. I found some pictures of the beaches of Canada, some old homes in the area and a few movie posters from Rocky horror Picture Show (it is my favorite). The flea market said they will deliver to the school tomorrow so I told them I will be there at 9am.
Now with my day done I get to the store to buy some groceries and realize this place uses sextons and I was down to my last few, so now I will need to exchange but thankfully a bank is nearby so I can get some of my mainland money exchanged. I pull up to my new pad off load my few groceries and notice some other tenant left beer in the fridge, talk about luck. I got the beer went to the deck and watched the sunset over the sky. It was going to be new here, but I needed a fresh start after getting dumped and losing the job because my ex was in upper management, never will I do that again. I will find someone who does not work in the school system. After I ate a roast beef and cheddar sandwich for dinner, watched some cooking shows it was time for bed. As I was brushing my teeth, I heard the neighbors having sex. Oh, goody they are not quiet. hope they do not have super energy either. Tomorrow is my first full day and I have decorating to do, fantastic they stopped, that is the thing with us older people we do not fuck like bunnies anymore. As far as I know the neighbors are lesbians so who knows.
Sample 1- If I try my hardest, I could muster up enough courage to ask the prettiest girl in school to prom. I had a suit; bolo tie and I will shine my old boots up. The thing is my courage is not as strong as my best friend Nick, now there is one brave dude who just asked the girl I wanted to go to prom with and of course she said yes. I gather myself close my locker and put on my best smile for them both. Nick and I high five and I hug her, trying to be genuine but it is hard. I head to my Social studies class and sit down next to Megan she looks at me with some concern I tell her what happened, she then asks me to Prom…...
Sample 2-Wishing I did not have to be here I sit at the back of the funeral and think about my old high school principal. I grew up in a small town and everyone knew everyone, we only had one school and you went there for kindergarten through senior year. After my graduation I packed up my old car and headed out to what I thought was the real world. Living in a bigger city only helped spur my loneliness so who says you cannot come home again, well Mom for starters because I abandoned my family, I am not welcome at home ever again (so tired of her drama), so I am staying at Principal Mason’s house yes, the same principal that I am at a funeral for I held her hand as she lay there succumbing to cancer……
Sample 3-If you really want to get over a breakup getting back on the horse will help things along. I thought that too seven lousy dates ago so here I am on date number 8 and I am not seeing any birds singing or rainbows in the sky. He steps away to take a call he is a particularly important lawyer after all (I need to fix my picker) after he comes back, he says it go time the jury has come back so off he goes. I finish my drink and head back to my brownstone close by, I pass the new chocolate shop that just opened, and I get inside and see chocolate heaven. Looking around I do not see him at first but there he is my old college lab partner Sam I just saw a rainbow…….

When I was in college I found myself Ubering to make money. This was in Southern California, and LA at the time was a constant flow of work. Occasionally you’d pick people up in a nice area and they’d tell you that they were sleeping with someone in a relationship, or that they themselves were cheating. This was depressingly common. I think that saying what they were doing to someone gave them a weird kind of relief.
Once I drove someone from Hollywood to Hemet, CA. He was very charming, and funny. When I dropped him off it was at a big blue building that they buzzed us into. He left me a $200 cash tip. I later found out this was what is known as “Gold base” for the church of scientology. If you don’t know what that is, it’s a completely normal not weird at all in any way location owned by the church of scientology. Feel free to google it!
A few months into my “taxi” career. Insurance companies started using ride share service, and some people who were more down on their luck would use it. Sometimes this was people just trying to get their kids to school, but sometimes it was much sadder. I can’t tell you how many times I showed up to a doctors office to see someone with accessibility limitations face drop at seeing my tiny car instead of a van like they needed.
The people with substance problems were interactions that would stay with you.
Once I picked a man going to a dental appointment and I drove him for about a half hour. He told me about how he used to run drugs in the 90’s, until they caught him with a few pounds of coke. He told me about when he was moved from Nevada to Florida for trial. How he travelled handcuffed in a van. How the cops would stop only once a day at McDonalds and for their one dollar menu item of the day. He asked me to stop at a liquor store he chugged a tiny bottle of booze, shoved mints into his mouth, then sipped on a soda.
He smelled like pure alcohol when I dropped him off at the dentist.
Near my house there was a methadone clinic. I would get up before dawn to be able to take those rides. (Early bird gets the worm right) Almost always they were sweet, and thankful. Sometimes they were a little out of it but I never felt in danger or anything like that. Just good people going through tough times. These rides were the most consistently depressing.
People who were going to court clearly drunk or high. Older women who had trouble requesting a ride and had been waiting in the parking lot of their dialysis place into the night.
They’d tell their stories sometimes. A person who was going to court for a child custody case, people struggling with mental illness. Some mornings were exhausting.
Being up that early you’d hit another crowd that I had never anticipated. Funeral goers. The saddest funeral ride was when a man and a woman got into my backseat. Rather than speaking to me the man handed me a neon printout of a map of a cemetery with instructions on what plot to go to. With, “Hello, I am attending my father’s funeral. My wife and I are deaf. Please follow these directions.” Written on the back of it.
The whole ride I could hear them signing to one another and trying not to cry.
There were also the retired gamblers. They’d leave their houses at 7 in the morning, take a $70 uber out to the desert, and spend the whole day gambling at the reservation casinos. The desert is where I saw the weirdest things.
The desert was the only place I had ever felt scared driving. It was in Temecula the “wine country” of so cal. Lots of wooded roads and desert. I picked up a lady just off the freeway at what I initially assumed was the edge of a golf resort but it was an unpaved access road. It was late and that area was especially dark. I was getting ready to call the passenger I saw them coming down the unpaved access road.
It was a tall blonde woman in a very nice pant suit. She was absurdly put together considering she had walked god knows how long in heels down a dirt rock road. She got into the car and was very pleasant. She said she lived in a gated community that was hard to get Ubers too and it was easier to send me to the access road. I thought it was weird but I did not want to be creepy asking about where she lived.
She was friendly, chatty even. She was going to a dinner party, and as she spoke to me I could feel her looking at me in the rearview mirror the entire ride. We drove a half hour away from the freeway. To one of those rural chic neighborhoods that you would hear celebrities had huge parties at.
Eventually we reached the “address” which was a paved road lined with trees. She told me to keep driving and I didn’t think much of it because again we were in a mansion style neighborhood. We hit a white ranch style fence after a minute or so going down the road.
That was the when I started to feel a bit uneasy. There were around a dozen no trespassing signs, and one of those classic “Forget the dog, beware of owner” signs with a guy pointing a pistol at you. I thought it was more than a little blunt to have that many signs but hey not my property.
We drove for about a minute when we came to another fence. It was at the top of a hill and it overlooked a barn with some lights in the distance. I know this sounds weird but it was unpleasant. I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was just a barn with what looked like a barbecue going on. But being out in the woods without any light had freaked me out.
The passenger told me I could just slide the gate open. As I approached the fence, I saw some signs that made me stop cold.
Off to the side of the gate, not quite in the dark, but on the fringes of my headlights. There were metal signs with bullet holes through them. Swaztikas, and confederate flags brightly displayed.
So-Cal has a lot of white supremacist pockets. I had dropped off dozens of passengers in Cities like Norco, and driven down streets with people drinking in the garage, and a nazi flag proudly hung behind them. It wasn’t my favorite but I wasn’t spending any time in those neighborhoods more than I needed to. This was different though.
It was after 11pm at night, and I had no idea where I was. I opened the gate , and down the road I saw what I assume were cellphone flashlights lighting up and coming up the incline. This made me very uncomfortable. I went back and I told the woman that I didn’t think my car could make it back up the hill if I went down it.
“What are you talking about? Just take me it’s right there.”
She was getting more heated and I could see the lights slowly making their way up the hill.
She kept telling me I needed to cancel the ride, and that she wouldn’t pay to not be taken the entire way. I told her the pin I was supposed to take her too was a mile back up the road, but I was so nervous I relented and cancelled on my end. She slammed the door as she got out.
I took off before I could see the cellphone light people get closer. The road back was much rougher at the speed I was going at. I felt a bump that felt like I hit a body but I kept going. My car was driving like shit but I kept driving till I was past the fence, out of the rich neighborhood until I stopped at a gas station. My right rear tire was fucked up, and I needed to change it.
There was a few nails that looked like they had been attached to a piece of wood on my tire. I was freaked out so hard and sometimes I wish I had called the cops and reported it. But of course all that happened was I got a flat on a back road, and I didn’t want to spend the rest of my night waiting on a cop car.
I know it’s far more likely that I freaked myself out than a bunch of nazis planning to mess with a random Uber driver. But when I pick up a well dressed businesswoman from a remote location, and drop her off at a separate remote location, gives me chills that I have trouble explaining to this day.

UPDATED LAST JULY 11, 2020
Hello guys! Now since I've got all ribbons last April since I first played last July 19, 2019! I loved how to do it. For now I'll show you here's how to get all the ribbons in a realistic ways:

• 🧠 Academic - Study harder every year, read books and go to library to enhance smarts, go to University in major, have excellent grades and smarts, and seek higher education (e.g. Graduate School, Medical School, etc.). Have under $2.5 million of net worth. Best used when the character is born with high smarts.
  
• 💊 Addict - You must at least 2 addictions to die. Get alcohol and drugs offered and go to gambling very often to get addicted. It is a random luck-based chance. Don't go to clubbing over 10 times with addictions. For easiest way to get, must have at least under 30% smarts, have many friends and go party with them often to get addicted to alcohol and play with gambling often to get addicted to gambling. Don't get seek higher education.
  
• 🚂 Bandit - Rob a train successfully in exact real system time (e.g. 4:20 PM or Midnight 12:00 AM). Make sure don't use time cheat.
  
• 👱‍♀️ Barbie Girl - Be a female or transgender female to get all plastic surgeries. Don't get seek higher education (such as Graduate School) or over $2.5 million of net worth for iOS users.
  
• 👨‍💼 Big Boss - Major in English, Finance, Information Systems, or Mathematics. Go to Business School after graduates. Get a Corporate-related job, work harder every year and then you'll be promoted to CEO. Have at least over $20 million of net worth. It is easiest to get as a second generation after inheritance over $20 million.
  
• 😸 Cat Lady - Be a female, adopt at least 30 cats and less than 5 pets of other species. Never get married in a life. Also you can be a transgender female to earn this ribbon.
  
• 🎭 Cunning - Commit a crime and successfully escape from jail, desert the military or illegally immigrate then get sex change via gender reassignment surgery. Never get caught by the police again until you die.
  
• 🗡️ Deadly - Murder at least 5 people. The easiest ones are Perform Drive-By (with fast coupe car) Electrocute Them, Poison Them, Impale Them, and Push Off Cliff. If fails, you will sent to jail or assaulted you to death. Also you can hire a Hitman to kill them, but it requires Bitizenship.
  
• 👨‍👧‍👦 Family Guy - Be a male and get married. Have under 5-7 children. Spend time 10 times and be good karma. Never abandon or go to jail. Have under $2.5 million of net worth. Also you can be a transgender male to earn this ribbon.
  
• 📸 Famous - Have a high looks and smarts. Get a fame-related jobs such as Actor, Singer, Chef, Model, Reporter, DJ, Writer, Magician, Mobile App Developer, and Pornographer. Work hard, promote them and become fame. Also this can be earned after elected as GovernoChief Minister or President/Prime Minister to become Famous Politician.
  
• 🍼 Fertile - Have at least 8 children or 5 children with 5 grandchildren in a life from a partner or adoption.
  
• 🎁 Generous - Gift items to friends and family at least 20-30 items with much appreciations and more karma without arguments.
  
• ♾ Geriatric - Live at least 120 years old in a life with spend time, full karma, happiness, and health without having an illness. Take diets to increase your health.
  
• 🌎 Globetrotter - Vacate as many at least 20 countries.
  
• ⛏️ Gold Digger - Have a high looks and smarts. Use Freelance Gigs to earn quick money. Open Dating app to find one with highest money income (green bar). Marry 1 richest spouse or more and you'll get over $1.5 million from inheritance through divorce or widow. Never get a job.
  
• 👮 Hero - Rescue someone from situation whether if save or die, just tap "Attempt to rescue him/her" button. Keep good karma. Also this can be earned after your character dies after being exploded and blown up by stepping on a mines while serving on a military or another is saving a choking relationship by successfully performing the Heimlich maneuver.
  
• 🎲 Highroller - Go to casino or horse racing, you must have high million net worth and win over $2 million lifetime winnings from gambling. It is harder to get for iOS users as a casino glitch patched.
  
• 🔓 Houdini - Escape from jail at least 10 times. For easiest way to get without maximum security prisons, see here.
  
• ✔️ Influencer (not working on Android) - Have a high looks and smarts. Sign up for a social media accounts at age 13. Post on social media as many times often every year, pick correct options such as Blog, Random, Challenge, Dance, Selfie, or Sexy Pic, get many of million likes and over hundred-thousands of followers and try to go viral. Promote your products if you have over 5 thousands of followers. Monetize your account on YouTube if you have over many thousands of subscribers. If you have over 100k followers, verify on social media accounts and get quickly over 1 million followers to become enjoyment of social media influencer. Also, you can be a fame career life (such as Actor or Singer), then repeat this procedures to get this ribbon.
  
• 🚔 Jailbird - Escape from jail and go back at least 2 times. Also this can be earned after jailed at least 3 times without escaping or riot many times due to committing more crimes repeatedly.
  
• 😴 Lazy - Have never got a job and at least 50 years old, just spam the age button until you die. Must have smarts higher than 10%. No Job Referral options, just tap "That's not for me" button.
  
• 😍 Lustful - Hook-up at least 20 people in one night stands or threesomes without spreading STDs.
  
• 🤑 Loaded - Have at least over $20 million of net worth. It is earned via lottery jackpot, inheritance from generations, or a rare expensive heirloom (such as Holy Grail). For easiest way to get, born in most wealthy countries (e.g. Monaco), get a highest-paying job (such as Brain Surgeon or Music Composer), work hard longer and make 20 million of net worth.
  
• 😐 Mediocre - It is the easiest to get because you don't have to pass the requirements to get other ribbons and have nothing much in a life. Also this can be earned after you get fired from the job or siblings, classmates or people assaulted you to death at very young age.
  
• 🙌 Model Bitizen - You can be a male or female. Compliment, spend time with the relationships and give money at least 10 times. You must have a job, a full karma and relationships and at least $50,000 of net worth without debt. Always pick the right choices in the random events. Always call the police on the situations (don't tap "Attempt to rescue him/her" or "Try to intervene" buttons) and turned it in to the authorities. Never abandon children or pets, argue anyone, ask for money, assault anyone, cheat on partner, go clubbing, go to jail, insult anyone, murder, offer to drink alcohol and drugs, spread STDs to people, steal, do other negative things or do anything lowers karma. Never commit a crime (such as deliquency, solicitation or take a parcel). Apologize or walk away from situation when someone or a relationship argue you or they have disagreement of conversation. Avoid getting any addictions or drug overdose. Don't get over $20 million of net worth to avoid getting the Loaded ribbon or at least 8 biological children, 4 biological children with 8 grandchildren or 5 biological children with 5 grandchildren to avoid getting the Fertile ribbon.
  
• 🏠 Monopoly - Make flipping houses at least of over $1 million real estate profits within buying, renovating at least good condition, and selling them much higher price at least 10 houses.
  
• 🤲 Mooch - Ask your parents to get money or buy pets and they refuse it at least 10 times.
  
• 🎬 Movie Buff - Watch a movie (Comedy, Documentary, etc.) at the movie theater every year at least 20 movies. Requires to watch ad if you don't have a Bitizenship. Don't get seek higher education (such as Graduate School) or at least $2.5 million net worth for iOS users.
  
• 💸 Rich - Have at least $2.5 million of net worth. Don't get over $20 million. It is best used for high-paying jobs and inheritances.
  
• 👹 Rowdy - Go clubbing at least 10 times, hook-up with them, argue people, and accept every offer to drink alcohol and drugs.
  
• 😈 Scandalous - Commit a major crime such as armed robbery or murder, get sentenced to jail and stay at least 5 years without escaping.
  
• 🤪 Stupid - Same as Lazy ribbon, but with have a lower smarts under 10%, never got a job, and making dumb decisions that lowers smarts at least 50 years old. Also this can be earned after your character dies due to drug overdose for iOS users.
  
• 👍 Successful - Have at least $250k of net worth, good karma and at least 65 years old. Avoid getting any addictions. Don't get over $2.5 million of net worth or seek higher education such as Graduate School.
  
• 🐯 Tarzan - Be a male, Bond with at least 20 exotic animals and spend time with them. You'll need a Bitizenship to buy exotic animals from Exotic Pet Dealer. Also you can be a transgender male to earn this ribbon.
  
• 🌵 Teammate - Born in Miami or Tucson, United States. Major in Computer Science or Information Systems then get a Mobile App Developer job. Promote to App Designer and maintain it. For Android users, so never get famous.
  
• 🦊 Thief - For iOS, you must steal as many at least 5 rob banks, 5 burgle houses, 5 steal cars, 10 pickpocket people, 10 porch pirates, 10 shoplift items, or 10 stealing random items (much easier). For Android, you must steal at least 2 burgle houses, 2 pickpocket people and 2 stealing cars but don't spend too much time in jail.
  
• ⛈️ Unlucky - Die under 30 years old after contract deadly diseases such as cancer or coronavirus (COVID-19). This is a random luck-based chance. Also this can be earned after your character dies due to struck by lightning or attacked by the terrorists in some war torn countries such as Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Pakistan and Syria for iOS users. For easiest luck to get, use God Mode to edit all attributes to 0%, start a new life, contract with whooping cough, and die at least age 2 years old.
  
• 🚮 Wasteful - Go to Activities, then go to Surrender option to end life immediately. Also this can be earned after sentenced to death or highest debt of net worth.
  
• 👿 Wicked - Spread at least 5 STDs to them from hook-ups, abandon at least 5 children, release at least 5 pets, or more.
  
• 🎖️ Veteran - Get in the military as enlistee or officer (requires University in any majors). You must deploy mines successfully many times using Minesweeper game (have practice them with skills). Serve full career in the military until reach at age 62. For those who fail to deploy and blown up on mines, get Minesweeper Solver here.
  

For the Prison Escape guide, see here.
For the Careers and Jobs guide, see here.

It was at the tail end of a long shift at 7-11, getting close to midnight. Business had been brisk all day but now there was only the customers going on beer runs and the night shift grabbing coffee and donuts. I manned my till, smiled at people by reflex, and swept every so often.
A man with a hoodie, glasses, and a dark green jacket approached the counter. As I started my spiel, he shocked me out of my autopilot by pulling a black handgun from his coat pocket, leveling it at my chest, and then stating his intention to rob the place.
“I see,” I said. “This is highly irregular.”
“It is,” he agreed. “Yet here we are.”
“I suppose you’ve given no thought to the long term viability of your chosen profession? Armed robbery is a notoriously unstable field. The cash in this register looks like a lot, if you grew up with little, but a simple cost benefit analysis will show clearly that the money here is almost comically small compared to the risks one must take to, well, take it. The possibility of arrest, being tackled by a bystander, the small but worrying possibility that I too have a concealed firearm about my person... sure, each individual robbery seems like a slam dunk, but in aggregate the risks are appalling and the payoff is almost the same as a 9 to 5 job. Imagine, if you will, a game of chance at a casino. You must place $200 on the table to play. The dealer takes a deck of cards and draws one at random. If it is any card other than the Ace of Spades, you the gambler earn $1. But if the Ace of Spades is drawn, you lose your $200 stake.
“Obviously,” I continued, “on any given draw you are likely to win a dollar. But in the long run, the house always wins- 1 in 52 draws will ruin you, so for every $51 you win, you have to pay $200. It is a fool’s game you are playing.”
“We are of an accord,” he said. “I am no mere thug who draws a weapon without thought. I am a man of action, but action must include forethought.
“The risks that armed robbers assume are high, as you say. But risks can be compensated for. I have cased this shop for a week- I am familiar with every route in and out. My car is parked the ideal distance away- close enough that I can get to it rapidly, far enough away that no camera can see or witness tie me to it. The camera will not show much with this hoodie and fake glasses. I specifically targeted you here because I live several towns over, so investigating cops will not patrol my own streets. And as long as I do not kill you, this remains a robbery, not a murder. Police budget is tight this fiscal year- criminal investigations must be prioritized.
“A gamble I am taking, to be sure,” said the gunman. “But a calculated one. The odds are much more favorable than your posited 52 to 200. I have adjusted them in my favor, and so roll the dice gladly.”
I nodded. “Impressive.”
“Thank you.”
“If appeals to practical costs avail nothing, let me try a new line of attack. Many people think their thievery is directed at some faceless corporation, and therefore bypasses the standard morality of ‘Thou shalt not steal.’ On the surface, perhaps; the store has an insurance policy that covers shoplifting and vandals and robbers. The money stolen from the till will indeed be replaced by a faceless insurance company a day or two after my boss fills out the paperwork. But the simple fact is that the insurance company charges a premium for its services- that cost to doing business is passed on to the consumer by way of pricing. Those bags of candy and the energy drinks in the cooler and the peanuts and the muffins and the ice cream and the beer and the chips and the sodas and the apples and the Advil and the coffee and the Mac ‘n’ Cheese bowls are all expensive as fuck. The mark ups around here are staggering. They have to be. Individuals like yourself force the high pricing to compensate for the premium; just as you have proactively adjusted the odds in your favor, so too do the insurance men. You are not stealing from me, you are not stealing from my boss, and you are not stealing from the 7-11 company, or the insurance agency for that. You are stealing from your fellow citizens. Would you not rather point that gun at an old lady as she walks down the street? Would you be willing to rob a hardworking family man who needs food stamps to get by? Would it not be easier to threaten a child of eight for his pocket change?”
“In a word, yes,” said the gunman. “I am aware that I am exploiting society as a whole, and not merely one tiny little subsection of it. But you have not considered carefully enough the structure of the world.
“Remember the great Libertarian doctrine that taxation is theft. Therefore, in mathematical certainty, theft is also taxation. Now, you apparently acknowledge the right of the government to steal your money- I suspect you are not plotting anarchist revolution in your spare time. So what line can you draw in the sand between me and the IRS?
“That question is rhetorical and easily countered, of course. I am not the government. But the line is drawn because of scale, not of type. Refusal to pay taxes will, eventually and with enough lines crossed, result in armed men visiting your home to take you to prison. I at least am upfront about my coercion. That upfrontness costs me badly, for I have no ‘legitimacy’ per se. The closest historical parallel may be this. Under the Byzantine empire, serfs- which is the closest label the situation has to wageslaves such as yourself, no offense- paid taxes to the Augustus, and considered it to be approximately dead center of the Overton Window. The Byzantines had royal pomp, army after army of soldiers to collect the taxes, centuries of tradition and shared culture bolstering them, and most importantly of all, an obligation to organize and fund large scale civic projects to the benefits of the taxed peasants.”
“I was about to say,” I interjected. “You beat me to it. ‘No taxation without representation’ was going to be how I would have phrased it, for the government spends the money to the communal good, in theory, and I get a small say in how and where.”
“I could easily challenge that,” said the gunman with a sardonic smile. “If representative democracy indeed dead in the water, what responsibilities have we to preserve the interests of the government?”
“A recognition that the government and society are distinct, and that wanton crime harms the second even worse than the first? Honestly. This seems like self-justifying sophistry on your part.”
The gunman shrugged. “It is what it is. To get back to the Byzantine metaphor. The peasant, i.e. you, does not do more than grumble when the tax collector comes, for the tax collect has that mystical property of legitimacy. But there is another faction in the world- the Mongol, the Goth, the Vandal, the barbarian from outside the known world who deals in raw violence. The barbarian holds a sword in his hand-“ and here the gunman wiggled his handgun suggestively- “and demands gold. The barbarian lacks legitimacy, to be sure, but one can hardly argue that his position is without merit.”
“At least one of us is deeply confused,” I said. “You seem to be justifying yourself by the savage and inhuman doctrine of Might Makes Right. Yet you claim to be in the right by equating your barbarism (your word, not mine) with a legitimate system of government whose very cornerstone is that Might Does Not Make Right.”
“You miss a vital piece of the puzzle, which is this: society is not on my side. That ‘legitimate system of government’ representing me and my community does not work to my prosperity. I have sworn no metaphorical oaths of allegiance to the Augustus, and I have sworn no literal oaths of allegiance to the system of government in the here and now. I deny the very concept that the Law is holy and must be obeyed for the common good, for the common good is none of mine. Imagine, if you will, standing before the Heavenly throne as a fresh soul that has never touched flesh before. God says to you, ‘Look, I’m going to send you on down there for a lifetime until you come back to me. You get a choice- you can either be a peasant who works 14 hour days and lives in a mud hut and will be abused and exploited every day of his life, or you can be a one of the Mongol horse archers who lives and dies by the sword. What’s your poison?’ I happen to find myself (quite inadvertently, for I did not as a child dream of a career as an armed robber) in such a position. Who could blame such a soul for choosing the sword instead of the plow?”
“Me,” I said. “I can blame you. I hate working for a living too. But I’m behind this counter trading time and energy for cash, and the society that gave birth to me, raised me, protected me, and will one day bury me is slightly better for it. Every impulse towards civilization starts with people like me plugging away at it and contributing to the present and the future, in a spirit of thankfulness for the past.”
“Admirable,” said the gunman. “I for one would rather cut off my right hand than to gainsay a man such as you in your lifelong devotion to civic virtue. But I won’t. You shall go your way, and me mine, and we shall both be content.”
“Shall we? Shall we truly both be content? Should a cancer patient try to live and let live with the tumor inside him? Shall a lifeboat of marooned sailors agree to disagree with the man who steals the rationed food and water while the others endure with little? Can there truly be anything but war between us- war in the abstract and at a remove, to be sure, but war nonetheless? Those Mongols and Vandals you invoked were met by force of arms, if you’ll recall.”
“Society is specialized and stratified- I’m sure you know the old rhyme. ‘Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor, rich man, poor man, beggar man-‘ “
“ ‘Thief.’ Yes, I’m familiar with it. You’re saying that society can tolerate bad actors to a degree.”
“You have a pretty firm alliance with the bacteria in your stomach, I will say that. That alliance would be imposed by the little wrigglers even if they didn’t contribute to the body as a whole. It seems to work out for everyone. And we’ve already covered how and why I’m willing to try my luck against the specialized profession that is designed to counter me. Society through the government has imposed its prohibitions and laid out its enforcement mechanism; it has done its job. If I can successfully navigate my way to profit through the tangled web of both the rule and the enforcers, well, more power to me. If you think otherwise, then may I ask why you do not descend upon the lawless life-stealers of Wall Street with fire and sword? One white collar guy playing jump rope with the law can wipe out the life savings of hundreds and thousands of families with a click of a mouse.”
I considered this thoughtfully. “I assume there is no point in pitching you the idea of meaningful education and gainful employment as surer paths to success than armed robbery.”
“I already weighed such options. The problem is that I’m good at plotting methods to attack people and places, and I’m good with guns. Hence why I’m here. Like my old man would say, do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life.”
The gunman sighed. “Earlier, you accused me of sophistry. I’m afraid that is basically accurate. All the rhetoric followed after the impulse. And the impulse is as simple as any other great truth around which a life can revolve. That truth is this- I am a man. I was designed by God or by nature to stand tall, to own a permanent and invulnerable home, to set my life as I see fit, and to enjoy the fruit of my own labor. I was meant to join with likeminded folk in a spirit of camaraderie and community and to take no abuse from anyone. I am a man. I was supposed to build, to fix what was passed down to me, to fight in defense of everything that is valuable and irreplaceable.
“And I can’t. It just isn’t an option anymore. My work is done for the profit of others. The egalitarian spirit that all men are created equal- not in ability, but in worth- has been denied and sneered at for too long. The sanctity of my home has been violated; can not the police shatter my door and shoot my dog as they see fit? Even the simple assertion that a man must fight a bully has been barred by law, for honest fights in defense of self-worth and self-esteem have been banned, even as the law had banned the perverse aristocratic imitation of dueling. Were a man to spit on me and call me a faggot or a nigger or a dumb fucking chink or a retard or a sister-fucker, and I was to break his nose for the insult, the police would crackdown on me and ruin my life with an assault charge. It is too late to fight for that which is valuable and irreplaceable; that fight is over and my side lost. How can a free man with pride exist under such conditions? How can a tree grow from salted soil?
“I am a man, and I will not be a slave. I am undoubtedly better off than a slave in chains, but a slave to circumstance is still not free. Well, I will live as a warrior before kneeling as a serf. The savage liberty of the barbarian at the gates is a pale imitation of the free man in a just and democratic society, but I will take the imitation since it’s all that is left for me. If I seize not the gun, I will live for decades as a servant to ‘better’ men; and I shall not.
“If I fall into foolish logic puzzles and contradictions trying to turn this impulse into words, so be it. The impulse remains nonetheless.”
I nodded. “Tell you what-“
I grabbed a receipt someone had left behind before the gunman showed up at my store and scribbled some numbers on it, hiding my writing from him. I stuffed the number in my pocket.
“The register doesn’t open without this number. I absolutely refuse to open the till for you, but if you gun me down, you can grab that note and open it yourself.”
“I could beat you up and just take the note without killing you, perhaps? If I shoot you, well, that impacts my odds of capture.”
“Yes,” I said, “but I have a box cutter here that I use to break down cardboard in the back. I don’t know if I can win, but I can make you kill me to avoid getting slashed up. I assume you would not want drops of your blood at the crime scene.”
“Very true. And I appreciate the sporting gesture of writing the number down.”
“So here we are. You want the money, which I estimate to be about $1,200 between the two registers, you need to shed blood.”
The silence hung heavy over everything else. My chest was tight and my breathing was shallow. The gunman held his gun at a forty five degree angle aimed at the counter between us, and it wavered up and down slightly, as though he was trying to decide whether or not to kill me.
“I’m honestly not clear what your angle here is,” he said. “This is contrary to store policy, surely; you’re supposed to just give me the money.”
“My angle is the same as yours, really. I too am a man, and I too chafe under the modern destruction of liberty. And I too yearn to fight in a holy crusade in defense of all that is valuable and irreplaceable. Today, that means I’m going to make you kill me. That’s what civilized men do when the barbarians are at the gate. You aren’t an idiot, you know damn well that if you carry that gun into enough shoppettes eventually you’ll have to kill someone. You appear to have accepted the possibility. Well, it’s no mere possibility now. You want the money, kill me. Smell the gunpowder in the air, feel the gunshot ring your ears, see the dark blood pool under me spread and spread and spread. Feel your hands shake as the enormity of what you’ve done sinks in. Motherfucker, I am a man, and you don’t get to rob my store without paying the price for it.”
The gunman stared hard into my eyes, and myself not being a poker player at all I could not read the intent. “I don’t really have to, do I? There are other stores. Hell, I can come back tomorrow and see if whoever is on shift then has less spine. My plan is still basically sound.”
“Pure cowardice. If you aren’t willing to be a proper Mongol and commit to barbarism, you have no business pretending you are a barbarian. If you refuse to kill me tonight, what do you intend to do in a month when someone tries to tackle you from behind mid-robbery? Stop being a little bitch and either open fire or get the fuck out of my store.”
He raised the gun in one smooth motion, leveling it in my face just far enough away that I could not lunge forward to try to grab it. He said something, but I didn’t hear it. I was staring at the muzzle too hard.
When he left, I don’t think he was truly any happier than he was before.

Going through old issues of the Wrestling Observer Newsletter and posting highlights in my own words. For anyone interested, I highly recommend signing up for the actual site at f4wonline and checking out the full archives.
PREVIOUS YEARS ARCHIVE:
1991 • 1992 • 1993 • 1994 • 1995 • 1996 • 1997 • 1998 • 1999 • 2000

1-1-2001	1-8-2001	1-15-2001	1-22-2001
1-29-2001	2-5-2001	2-12-2001	2-19-2001
2-26-2001	3-5-2001	3-12-2001	3-19-2001
3-26-2001	4-2-2001	4-9-2001	4-16-2001
4-23-2001	4-30-2001	5-7-2001	5-14-2001
5-21-2001	5-28-2001	6-4-2001	6-11-2001
6-18-2001	6-25-2001	7-2-2001	7-9-2001
7-16-2001	7-23-2001

PROGRAMMING NOTE: There will be no Observer Rewind on Friday, because I expect to be recovering from a July 4th, 'Merica-induced hangover. Presuming I still have fingers left, we'll pick back up Monday.

• The Invasion PPV is in the books and appears to have been a major success. As a show, it was nothing special. One great match, a good main event, and everything else was the usual decent, average, bad, forgettable undercard. Early signs are that this show probably did big numbers on PPV (yeah, that's putting it mildly). It ended with Austin turning heel again, after seemingly turning babyface just a week or two ago, and defecting to the WCW/ECW side. Dave talks about how Austin's brief face-turn seemed to reignite business. Raw ratings were the highest they'd been in 3 months, ticket sales for Invasion saw a major boost following the Raw angle with him, etc. Austin's heel turn at Wrestlemania led to an almost instant downturn in TV ratings and attendance so Dave seems kinda befuddled why they decided to do it again at Invasion, considering last week's babyface turn showed instant signs of improving business. Austin also worked the PPV with 3 broken bones in his back and 2 broken bones in his hand (suffered at King of the Ring). He has breaks in the L-2, L-3, and L-4 vertebraes in his back, but he gutted out the match anyway. Chris Jericho worked the show with a hyper-extended elbow and Kurt Angle has whiplash and a black eye.

WATCH: Steve Austin turns on WWF and joins the Alliance

• They were literally still constructing the stage during the show. During the Heat pre-show match, you could see crew members sawing plywood and hammering stuff to form the left side of the "V" ramp. Chavo Guerrero had to come down the "WWF" side of the ramp because the WCW/ECW side wasn't finished yet. WWF usually books an arena 2 days in advance to do all the setup necessary, but a WNBA game was booked the night before and it went long (due to an N'Sync album release party after the game) and the WWF crew wasn't able to get into the arena and start constructing stuff until the morning of the show.
  
• Other notes from the PPV: Rob Van Dam and Jeff Hardy stole the show, with RVD winning the hardcore title from Jeff. Dave gives it 4 stars. Speaking of titles, if they aren't going to run 2 separate companies, they desperately need to get rid of some of the belts because with all the WCW titles, it has practically doubled the number of champions. X-Pac was booed even though he was a WWF guy and they're supposed to be the babyfaces. And of course, it ended with the Austin turn with him joining the Alliance.
  
• WWF has reached a temporary agreement with the bankruptcy court to be allowed to use the "ECW" name through the end of July. The trustee argued that the ECW intellectual property is owned by the ECW estate they are managing and WWF had been using it without authorization and the court had received complaints from several creditors that ECW owes money too. A couple weeks ago, WWF offered the court $150,000 to buy the ECW trademarks and tape library and were turned down. WWF upped its offer this week to $250,000. In response, the trustee agreed to allow WWF to use the name for now while they figure this out. WWF appears to be the only party interested in purchasing the ECW name and library so it's likely they will make a deal. There's a lot more to this but it's all boring legalese about trademark law and shit like that. Besides, we have a follow up story on this later in this issue....
  
• Last week, Dave had a pretty big obituary for Terry Gordy, but he mentioned that he wasn't able to write a full one by press time. And this week, whew. He's got an exhaustively long obit. But he has more news on it. Gordy died of a heart attack caused by a blood clot in his home. He lived his Freebird gimmick and was a wild partier during his younger days and would get wildly out of control. Dave has stories in here from Michael Hayes and Ted Dibiase about some of Gordy's wild ways. He also tells a story of the Freebirds pissing on somebody and then adds "literally, as the Freebirds in that era were known for giving people they liked--and sometimes didn't like as well--golden showers." Like it was some sort of initiation thing I guess. Well okay then. He also recaps a story about the Freebirds debuting in Memphis and in their very first match on live TV, Michael Hayes shit his pants and had to go backstage during the commercial break to change. There's actually a lot of really funny stories in this obit. But of course, the partying got to be too much and shortly after winning the Triple Crown title in AJPW, Gordy collapsed at a Roppongi night club in Japan from an overdose and his heart stopped beating. He was revived and survived but Giant Baba stripped him of the title and nearly fired him. He managed to keep his job but Baba never fully trusted him again and never again pushed him to the top of the company. In 1993, at the absolute peak of his career (he was making $10,000 a week in Japan and $200,000 a year from WCW), he overdosed again on a flight to Japan and once again fell into a coma. Again, his heart stopped and he had to be revived with CPR. He spent 5 days in a coma and suffered severe brain damage. When he awoke, he was never the same. He had to relearn how to talk, how to walk, and eventually, how to wrestle. He tried to make a comeback, working small indies here and there and even brief runs in ECW and WWF, but the overdose had destroyed his in-ring ability. Despite his success and all the money he made in his career, Gordy died with very little money in the bank and no life insurance. They played "Freebird" at his funeral. Michael Hayes is coming out of retirement next month to take Gordy's place at an indie show that he was booked for before he died. Just 6 days before he passed, Gordy was backstage at the Smackdown tapings and was said to be mentally more clearheaded than anyone had seen him in years and seemed mostly like his old self.
  
• NJPW had their latest Sapporo Dome show and Dave is perplexed by the booking of this company. The show was booked around the idea of NJPW wrestlers facing a bunch of outside wrestlers and MMA fighters, and the NJPW side lost almost all of the matches. Yuji Nagata lost to PRIDE champion Mark Coleman. Former RINGS fighter Masayuki Naruse won the IWGP Jr. title from Minoru Tanaka. Another PRIDE fighrer, Gary Goodridge, beat Manabu Nakanishi, and so on and so forth. The whole thing just made NJPW look weak and this has been going on for months now, with the NJPW guys never getting their wins back and MMA stars basically running roughshod over the company (yeah, we've reached peak Inokism now. This shit damn near killed the company in the early 2000s).
  
• The trustee in the ECW bankruptcy case has hired lawyers to facilitate the sale of the ECW estate to the WWF. Right now, the lawyers have to untangle some stuff, particularly the fact that video game company Acclaim is still making a stink about the fact that they own 15% of ECW and that they should have the rights to it all since Heyman has folded it. But long story short, the lawyers are pretty much just trying to untangle all the legal red tape so that WWF can swoop in and buy it up when they're finished. Heyman's team is still gathering all the records they can and Heyman has to appear before the trustee next week. Heyman himself filed for personal bankruptcy last week, which most people expected. Heyman claimed to have around $2.8 million in personal debt from the filing and is owed $128,000 in back pay for himself (turns out the wrestlers weren't the only ones not getting paid. He wasn't paying himself either). In his filing, Heyman listed the WWF as his current employer, as a television writer, at a salary of $4,000 per month.
  
• NOAH star Kenta Kobayashi has returned from his recent injury and they finally gave him a new name! Since his real name is so similar to one of Japan's biggest stars, he is now going by simply KENTA (and in 6 days, he's going to start kicking heads off in the 2019 G-1).
  
• Bam Bam Bigelow will return to NJPW for the first time since 1992 to work the next tour. He'll be part of the G-1 World tournament, which is basically like the G-1 Climax, but for foreign wrestlers (I can't find any actual details on this tournament so I had to research it by looking up show results. Turns out Bigelow isn't in it after all. Don Frye ends up winning the whole tournament. Scott Norton, Scott Hall, Super J, Giant Silva, and others were also in it).
  
• The elections for the Japanese Diet (their version of Congress basically) will be taking place this week and if you recall, Atsushi Onita is running. Polls indicate that Onita is likely to win, due to his name recognition and certainly not because of his political acumen. Satoru Sayama (the original Tiger Mask) is also running for office but he doesn't have the same mainstream name value and his chances aren't looking as good. But for what it's worth, Sayama has been traveling around his district, with the Tiger Mask on, campaigning for votes. Dave says it's hard enough to trust politicians when you can see their face but he'd never trust one wearing a mask. After all, a vote for La Parka could end up being a vote for DDP!
  
• There's a shoot-fighting show happening in Japan soon, and it's notable because Dos Caras Jr. will be fighting a guy named Kengo Watanabe. Caras Jr. was a top tier amateur wrestler in Mexico and hoped to compete in the 2000 Olympics but it didn't happen. Dave doesn't know if he'll be wearing the mask or not, but if he does, he'll be the first person Dave knows off to compete in an MMA fight while wearing a mask (that would be Alberto Del Rio, and yes he wears the mask. Spoiler: Del Rio wins this fight when Kengo suffers a GNARLY broken arm less than a minute in. They have a rematch in 2002 and Kengo chokes him out to avenge the loss).
  

WATCH: Alberto Del Rio vs. Kengo Watanabe - 2001 shoot fight

• Remember the Atlanta Gold Club strip club that is on trial for a bunch of racketeering charges and alleged connections to the mob? Well, a former dancer named Jana Pelnis testified this week that she performed sexual favors for Eric Bischoff's wife after the couple came to the club and took her to a nearby hotel. Pelnis testified that Bischoff's wife slipped her $200 before they got to the hotel and that the club owner gave her another $800 when she returned. Pelnis also admitted to performing sexual favors for other athletes, such as NBA players Patrick Ewing and Dikembe Mutombo. Eric Bischoff was called to testify the next day and he admitted the story, but also claimed to have been very drunk and said the night in question was a blur. Bischoff said he didn't recall having intercourse with Pelis and said he only recalled his wife and the dancer performing sexual acts on each other while he watched. Bischoff claimed it was a spontaneous thing, not prostitution, and that he later gave her another $100 after dropping her off because he wasn't sure if she had been tipped for lap dances she had done earlier that night at the club. Oh Eric, you scoundrel.
  
• We have another case of a child being killed while doing wrestling moves. A 9-year-old boy in NC died after he suffered a broken neck when his 16-year-old mentally handicapped step-brother tried to perform some kind of wrestling move on him. The case immediately got national headlines and was compared to the Lionel Tate case that has been central to the WWF's lawsuit against the PTC. On MSNBC this week, they had a segment debating wrestling's influence on children and WWF Corporate Relations VP Gary Davis appeared on the show to defend wrestling and talked about how kids always imitate what they see on TV, argues that it's the parents' responsibility to monitor what their kids do, etc. Just the usual stuff.
  
• Hulk Hogan says his plans to start a new promotion are on hold for now, saying the major TV networks aren't interested in wrestling right now. Some of the names that have been attached to Hogan's idea were Jimmy Hart, Sting, Bret Hart, Roddy Piper, Kevin Sullivan, Sable, and Chyna. Some of them aren't legally able to do anything until their WCW deals expire and others (like Bret Hart), Dave doesn't believe for a second were even considering it. But either way, not happening for now.
  
• Sandman went on a radio show and said he's going to be starting full-time with a new promotion in Evansville, IN. He said the promotion will also have Curt Hennig, Sabu, Public Enemy, and a whole bunch of other former ECW stars. They already have their first show scheduled for the ECW Arena in Philadelphia and a few cities in between (that would be a company called Main Event Championship Wrestling. That first show had all the big ECW names on it, plus Buff Bagwell, Chris Harris, Mike Rotunda, and more. And far as I can tell, they never ran another show after that).
  
• At another indie show this week, a bunch of ICP fans were heckling all the wrestlers. Steve Corino worked the main event and got into a confrontation with one of the fans and it got physical. Corino ended up having to be pulled off the fan by a bunch of other wrestlers. Corino out here beating up juggalos, you hate to see it. (Here's an article I found on Deadspin where someone who was there writes in and tells the story of what happened).
  

READ: Deadspin Wrestler Run-Ins: Steve Corino beats up a juggalo

• The state of Nevada unanimously agreed to sanction MMA as a sport and confirmed that UFC 33 will take place at the Mandalay Bay Casino (fun fact: this show sucked and to this day, Dana White still calls UFC 33 the worst show they've ever done). Anyway, now that UFC PPVs are available on cable providers again, UFC is likely going to be the closest thing to competition WWF will have anytime soon. Dana White played down the idea of competing with pro wrestling, saying they compete with boxing. But he said if UFC gets a TV deal, he believes they could give WWF a run for their money.
  
• On Sunday Night Heat this week, Bob Holly pinned Mike Awesome clean. Dave thinks that's a pretty dumb decision and that none of the Alliance guys should be losing yet, especially to undercard guys, but apparently some WWF wrestlers (Undertaker specifically) that have worked with Awesome haven't been impressed with him as a worker and, well, here's the result.
  
• Dave finally read The Star tabloid interview with Chyna, where she talked about her reasons for leaving WWF and the Triple H/Stephanie affair. In regards to the affair, she said she was suspicious that Triple H (her boyfriend at the time) was cheating on her with Stephanie and said they admitted it when she confronted them. Chyna said she was heartbroken and had hoped to marry Triple H some day. But despite all that, she says it was unrelated to her leaving WWF, saying she left because they couldn't agree on money terms in her recent contract negotiations.
  
• Chyna did another interview on a Boston radio station and said she was scared and excited to try her luck in the entertainment world without being "Chyna." She also said she was surprised when WWF pulled out of their contract negotiations. She blamed the death of WCW and Vince having a monopoly as the reason she didn't get the money she was looking for. Dave says Chyna was asking to no longer work house shows so she could be off during the weeks to pursue acting roles, while still making top star WWF money, and they weren't going for that. Plus, ya know, the other stuff....
  
• Chris Benoit will be using the song "Whatever" by Canadian rock band Our Lady Peace as his entrance music whenever he eventually returns.
  
• Kane filmed a Chef Boyardee commercial last week, along with the one the Dudleyz filmed. (I can't find the Dudleyz commercial, but here's the Kane one).
  

WATCH: Kane's Chef Boyardee commercial

• Jim Ross did a conference call or something recently and talked about a lot of things. He said ECW didn't have the same number of fans WCW had, but said that WCW had eroded its fanbase so much by the end and said the ECW fans were much more vocal and passionate about the product. Said that Sting is 42-years-old and wants to stay home with his family and said he likely wouldn't be coming to WWF. Admitted that they were interested in bringing in Ric Flair and Goldberg, but it doesn't make economic sense for either side right now, since they still have those WCW contracts. Said a lot of the undercard WCW wrestlers they have under contract will be sent to the developmental companies like OVW or HWA so they don't get rusty and can improve some more. Said the long term goal is still for WWF and WCW to run as 2 separate companies, each with their own prime time weekly show, but there's no word on when that will happen. Said they haven't given any thought about what to do with the women's title now that Chyna is gone from the company and she was the champ, but Ross assumed they'll probably do a tournament for it eventually. Said he expects Jerry Lawler to return sooner or later, but he's dealing with some personal issues right now (yeah, Stacy had just left him at this point). Ross admitted that the locker room situation has been tense and uncomfortable lately, with the WCW guys trying to acclimate to the WWF way of doing things but said that aside from all the Buff Bagwell drama, there's been no serious issues.
  
• Speaking of locker room tensions, there's a lot of concern about job security among all the lower and midcard guys. With so much new talent lately and no other place in the U.S. to make a real living as a wrestler, a lot of guys are worried about not being used. If you're off TV, it's "out of sight, out of mind" and so a lot of wrestlers are hiding serious injuries so they don't get taken off TV and forgotten about. Also, because of the pressure to look good and stand out from the pack, sources tell Dave steroid use is making a big comeback lately.
  
• In a WWF.com column, Jim Ross wrote some veiled comments about people in the company leaking information to the internet and how those sources have hidden agendas and are liars and blah blah. (*laughs in Meltzer*) Dave says this is in reference to recent internet reports that WWF is planning to release a bunch of wrestlers soon. Dave says the stories aren't entirely true, but they're not entirely false either, as there are a lot of names who are on the chopping block right now due to the fact that there's just too many guys and not enough spots, so he expects to see some people gone soon. Dave also says there's major heat on some people in the office right now for these stories leaking out, but no names mentioned.
  
• Triple H has been backstage at the TV tapings for the last few weeks, helping with the booking of the shows. He was told by doctors that all this extra travel was putting him behind schedule on his rehab time and to stop flying out to every TV taping if he wants to make a full recovery. Triple H has decided to listen to the doctors and won't be going to the shows as much.
  
• There was some minor heat on RVD at the Invasion PPV because his airbrushed tights had a skull on it, and that's Austin's gimmick. Goddamn, this petty high school nonsense, I swear......anyway, there was a mixed reaction to RVD's match backstage. Obviously, RVD and Jeff Hardy stole the show and a lot of people loved it, but others criticized it, saying it was only good because RVD had the "right" opponent and wouldn't be able to have that kind of match with anyone else.
  
• The storyline on TV last week with Kurt Angle hugging Vince was an inside joke on DDP. Apparently, when DDP first signed his WWF deal, Vince went to shake his hand and DDP grabbed him and hugged him instead, like they were longtime friends. Apparently they found it funny and decided to parody it with Angle on TV.
  

WEDNESDAY: WWF financial details revealed, more on WCW purchase price, Vince Russo planning to be involved in new Australian promotion, Atsushi Onita elected to government position, Acclaim wants ECW, and more...