|You may have noted a lack of Wonder in your box lately. At last, all may be revealed, and is, in these illuminating missives, recently dispatched from Mister Wonderful, our mensch in the fielshpikus.
As I walked through Istanbul's streets this afternoon, a small monkey in a large fez came up to me.
"Electric delights can be yours, fine sir," he whispered. "Experience the lixivium of a malleable black bird. Dip your renegade claw in strange passions."
I smiled, my eyes jittering like fireflies from the coffee. "Can I get a receipt?"
The little simian twisted up his face like a bottlecap and removed his paw from the pocket of my travel-stained labcoat. "You're not CIA?"
"Sorry, old son," I said. "I left them all back in the Cafe Americain, rubbing heroin on their nipples. It'll be weeks before they can walk again, let alone remember the passwords."
"Damn." The monkey looked tired, fingers contracting uselessly for a few moments as his eyes scanned the wall behind me. "I, uh, don't suppose you've got a microfilm hidden in a peanut shell for me if I mention 'The Zeroth Amendment,' eh?"
I shook my head. I had to get back to the caravan Mister Dark had hired before the diamonds in my pants turned back into pumpkins, but there was no point in explaining that to the monkey. He'd only sell the information to the Russians, and it was their caravan we were going to turn into a roving Disneyland of Interpol violations.
"Listen," I said, patting the beast near his garish "666" tattoo. "I know times are hard, but you have to understand that the United States has no need for dirty tricks any longer. Nothing underhanded or sneaky, not for them. It's all out in the god-damned open. The Emperor has no clothes? Hell, he's only gone and declared 'Kiss My Naked Ass Day.' There's no place for skulking with these fuckers in charge. Pistols worn on the hip, bwah. Show the natives who has the big mojo. Covert Operations get results, but you can't do business in the shadows."
I leaned in until I could smell the copper of his hoop earring. "Word on the street is -- next time they kill a Kennedy, they're going to sign it."
The monkey sighed. "You know of any good organ grinders, sahib?"
I held out a hand to help him up to my shoulder. "Well, I don't know about that, but let me tell you: back at the Labs we have an
excellent knob polisher..."
Yours with borrowed time and blue genes,
WONDERFUL LABS - We Don't Even Need To Stop The World To Melt With You
All you people are so scared of me - most days I'd take that as a compliment. But it ain't me you gotta worry about now.
-Riddick (Vin Diesel),
|Mister Wonderful Recommends: People who seem to care about books, as opposed to just selling them.