The Wonderful Wizard of Reno...Part 7

Would you enter the freeway from an off-ramp? Of course not...You would be going against traffic and you would look Drunk as the "F" word. I’m not a lawyer...I’m not sure...But you don’t want that.

I am the Author of this fanciful Tale and I can say that I would be lost if I entered here...

DUI CHECKPOINT suggests you enter the Freeway HERE.

I Hope You Enjoy.

Just west of downtown is Idlewild Park. Designed as a mixed use open-space, the park hugs a curve along the south bank of the Truckee River. In addition to hosting the City of Reno’s annual Earth Day Celebration, the park features meandering trails, grassy meadows, and a swimming pool, along with a skate park among its many amenities.

Currently, four groups of protestors occupy different sections of the park. To the east are eighty people demonstrating against the latest proposed B.L.M. roundup of wild horses outside Reno. To the west, a like number of people, protest in favor of the movement.

Two smaller, but still vocal, groups include a live N.R.A. demonstration of the beauty of death, and three Hubbers who were demanding that Hubpages.com staff restore Five One Cows, brilliant treatise...The Big Bang Theory.

Far off in the distance...the Munchkins let loose with a ragged cheer...

“Yaay...”

Crouched beneath a Weeping Willow, along the river, far from the fiery oratory, is renowned primatologist, ethnologist, anthropologist, and U.N. Messenger of Peace...Jane Goodall.

Until, recently, Jane had been in Borneo doing research. It was there, in a long-forgotten cave, that she had found an old V.H.S. tape of the 1968 classic movie...Planet of the Apes. The notion of talking apes astounded her. Her academic curiosity and the ‘Reno Public Library’ sticker on the cassette had led her to Reno.

She had been camped along the river for about two weeks now. Initial contact had been made on the third day. She observed their patterns...noted their demeanor...tracked their movements. The rumors were true. The apes under Dr. Zaius’ command could talk. They were also pretty good horseback riders...

On the eleventh day, the entry into her log indicates the presence of Taliban trainees, Scientologists, and a portly midget named Frederick. That was four days ago...

“Look to the left of that fork in the river.” Willow Ufgood directs Jane as he wipes away his tears. The famed U.N. Messenger of Peace trains her high-powered telegraphic lens to the left of the white-plastic fork that was moving with the current...

A flash of color...

One by one, timidly, but with purpose, a small herd of My Little Ponies leaves the relative safety of the underbrush to begin drinking along the river’s edge. Jane estimates their numbers at fewer than a dozen...

They look hungry, haggard, harassed, hunted, and haunted. She quickly presses the button on the camera... (Snap, snap, snap, snap...went the camera). Jane pulls out her notebook and notes (in the book) this new development...

Goodall had found Willow, (From the 1988 American fantasy film), after she heard him weeping in a bush. He had just failed his village’s “Test of Magic” thus squelching his dream to become the apprentice to the village wizard. He’d been crying off and on since then...

The sound of the RC Helicopter was the first indication of the horror that was about to unfold. Flying low, from the west, weapons readied, crew tense...suddenly...from tiny speakers mounted just aft of the main rotor-blade...Richard Wagner’s, The Ride of the Valkyries, blares forth...

For those who have seen the movie Apocalypse Now and, remember the helicopter scene, you know the feel I’m going for...

The helicopter’s being controlled from a nearby park bench by the portly midget Frederick. In attendance are two Taliban trainees and General Ursus, from Dr. Zaius staff. Scientology is represented by L. Ron Hubbard’s man...Tom Cruise.

Tom had to get a special dispensation from the municipal code which, specifically targets Dwarfs by arresting every, non-midget, under 4’ 6” before he could appear in this story.

He was currently standing on a little couch, jumping up and down, and whining about wanting to operate the RC Helicopter controls...

The beginning of Wagner’s, The Ride of the Valkyries, serves as the signal to begin Operation Fisher King. General Ursus’ troops burst out of hiding astride fierce war horses. Their weapons are trained menacingly...

Caught between the helicopter, on the one hand, and the Gorilla troops on the other...the small herd of My Little Ponies bolts in panic...

(Snap, snap, snap, snap...went the camera)

The Gorilla horsemen ride in, dismount, pull butterfly nets from the backs of their saddles, and begin gathering the quivering My Little Ponies and placing them in burlap sacks...

(Snap, snap, snap, snap...went the camera)

The (snap, snap, snap, snap) noise from the camera was noticed by the Taliban trainees. It reminds them of the sounds made, by the breaking bones of adulterous women, when being stoned to death, in their beloved homeland...

The RC Helicopter is diverted towards Jane’s position...a search light is turned on...

Suddenly...bullets slash through the trees near her head. These are fired from the N.R.A. Demonstrators as they demonstrate the importance of gun safety...

The search beam catches Jane and Willow and the harsh glare pinions them against the riverbank. A cry rises up from the Gorillas as they are spotted...The troops begin pulling bigger butter-fly nets from the backs of their saddles...

Jane grabs her camera, backpack, notebooks, and (the now openly sobbing) Willow....and beats feet into the underbrush as she heads up river...

Six blocks away the bus pulls into the Reno Greyhound station. It’s the scheduled 9:15 P.M. from Sacramento. With typical Greyhound efficiency, the ninety-mile trip had taken seven hours to complete. The passengers file off the bus looking hungry, haggard, harassed, hunted, and haunted.

Those, who were neophytes to Reno, quickly grabbed their bags and staggered off into the city. The pros took precautions. A case in point was Hubsville investigative journalist, Arlene V. Poma. Before she even leaves her seat, Arlene pulls out her wallet and extracts two twenties which are promptly placed in her shoe.

To do otherwise is to risk selling blood for the return fare home...

She was following a story. The story took the form of two Russians who spoke Norwegian with Serbian accents. Norwegian speaking Russians who affect Serbian accents and were active in the mail order bride traffic...the Russians lucked out...they had found the only Norwegian speaking cab driver in town and quickly left the bus station...

Arlene wasn’t worried. She knew where they were going. Her researched indicated that the nexus of the mail-order bride traffic was the Silver Legacy (subterranean bowels, of). She would follow at a leisurely pace. Dressed in the wrinkled clothes of a tourist and sporting a cape and mask, Arlene pulled out a package of Fig Newton’s and headed towards the exit...

Like every bus station in America...this one was set in a seedy part of town. Happily...Reno has many such areas to choose from. The working girls were out and claiming their corners. The city’s homeless jockey for position in the doorways of closed and shuttered businesses...

“Hey sweet thang!” Drifts a voice from the dark towards Arlene...

“Oh shake it girl...SHAKE IT!” Coos another...

Arlene stops and prepares to kick some major ass when the owners of those voices entered the spill of light from a nearby street lamp...Two of the hardest working pimps in Hubsville...Sunshine625 and MissOlive...

MissOlive, sporting a flamboyantly feathered hat and sexy feathered boa, sidles up to Arlene and puts her arm around her shoulder before purring...

“Are you looking to make a little money, hunny?” She begins pulling Hub articles out of her pockets and handing them over to Arlene as she names them off...

“’Where to Find Gold’, by RealHousewife, Alocsin’s ‘Income Control: How to Make Money on Hubpages’, Sharyn’s Slant’s ‘Make Money Writing Greeting Cards from Home.’” The Hubs continue to spill out of MissOlive’s pockets and into Arlene’s hands...

“Or, would you be looking for pleasure, instead?” Inquires Sunshine625 with a tone that suggests a guaranteed delivery if that option were to be selected.

She presents the complete works of Epigramman (in a beautifully bound set), the comedic styling of Kenneth Avery (the DVD collection), and Reno resident, Phyllis Doyle’s travelogue...Donner Party Women. A Tribute (with complimentary boxed lunch).

“That reminds me...are you hungry, darling?’ This question came from MissOlive. “I have a recipe for ‘Quick and Easy Homemade Apple Butter’ from the kitchen of Phdast7?”

“I would love a quick and easy homemade apple butter recipe.” Arlene agrees...

During this transaction...Reno Police...Vice-squad rolls up. They begin enforcing a municipal code that specifically targets Dwarfs by arresting every, non-midget, under 4’ 6”.

Sunshine625, MissOlive, and Arlene all assume perfect postures as the officers come by with their tape measures. Arlene barely makes it...

After the cops pass by them...their postures slump and the three women conclude their illicit business before scurrying off into the neon-tinged darkness that is...a Reno night...

When last seen, Toto and Applejacks had left the group in Part 4 to follow the mysterious trail of puppy chow mix and the occasional peanut butter ball. They had finally reached their destination.

Toto had eaten every piece of puppy chow and peanut butter ball that he had come across. As such, the trip took awhile and now he didn’t feel very well...

Applejacks was in a state. She needed to get to Idlewild Park to check on her friends and make contact with Jane Goodall.

They were back in the Silver Legacy Casino and staring at the terminus of the trail...The Barbergirl28 P90X Gym of Pain...

Kelly, Alastar, Nemanja, and Cowardly Lion were making their way towards that same gym; Kelly needed to work off the pancakes AND steak she had just finished at (the award winning) Emerald Wells Café...

Cowardly Lion was pointing out the relative merits of not working out, in favor of just getting fat, to Nemanja when he spots Toto lying on his back and, groaning softly. His paws clutch his stomach tightly. Applejacks flitters about...

“Did you have the pancakes AND steak too?” Kelly asks Toto. Toto grunts uncomfortably...

Alastar notices an all night-deli and goes in...

Nemanja takes detailed notes...

In a series of mental flashes, Applejacks explains where they have been.

She uses these mental flashes because I have never watched My Little Pony and I’m unsure if they can talk. Admittedly...I could YouTube it I reckon...I figured I would just wing it...

“Wait? Were those peanut butter balls,” Kelly questions suspiciously, “covered in chocolate?”

“Uh-huh.” Groans Toto...

“Uh-huh.” Flashes Applejacks.

“What does it mean? What does it mean?” From an appalled Cowardly Lion. “Why didn’t I get any peanut butter balls covered in chocolate?”

Alastar comes out of the deli. He has purchased thirty-six pounds of a ‘fatty-type’ of meat...pastrami.

Toto smells the pastrami and vomits into the change holder of a slot-machine...

Nemanja consults his notes before saying, “Um...Alastar? I think you only needed twelve-pounds of a ‘fatty-type’ of meat according to my notes.”

Alastar thinks back, “Are you sure?”

“We were all thinking we needed four-pounds of a ‘fatty-type’ of meat (each)...and THAT added up to needing twelve-pounds of a ‘fatty-type’ of meat in (total).” Kelly joins the discussion. “Pastrami was a good call.”

Alastar appears pleased with himself...

“Twelve-pounds total?” Cowardly Lion attempts to clarify.

“Twelve-pounds total.” Clarifies Nemanja.

“Right, right, right, right, right...Well...fuck...?” Remembers Alastar.

He talks Nemanja and Cowardly Lion into, each, carrying twelve-pounds of the ‘fatty-type’ meat, so he wouldn’t look like a tourist. Apparently, in Alastar’s mind, that line is arbitrarily drawn, somewhere, at carrying thirteen-pounds of a ‘fatty-type—

“Somebody mentioned peanut butter balls covered in chocolate?” Cowardly Lion interrupts the narrator. The narrator considers smiting Cowardly Lion...

Far off in the distance...the Munchkins let loose with a ragged cheer...

“Yaay...”

Kelly’s eyes narrow dangerously. Chocolate covered peanut butter balls? She knew who stole the Ruby Slippers. An old friend...or was it a new...frenemies...?

Scarecrow enters the casino from a service entrance. He’s with Pistol and Mary, the junkies he’d met in Bilbo Baggins’ living room. Those two had burned through the ten-sack of heroin they’d purchased from “Big-Man” Jimmy Brown and were desperately looking for some more. The problem was, they still owed “Big-Man” Jimmy Brown money.

Scarecrow was looking to hook back up with the group and locate the Ruby Slippers for Baggins. That enterprising Hobbit had promised him a share of the money once the famed jeweled footwear had been found and fenced.

In the meantime, Baggins had given Scarecrow a pack of cigarettes, ten-dollars, and a promise to refill his empty tweak-pipe at the end of the night should his efforts be successful. Scarecrow’s plan was to parlay those ten-dollars into a bankroll, to fill his own tweak-pipe, and then he would find the group. Right now, he was looking for the nickel slots.

The three of them, engulfed within the throes of their own addictions, walk right past Vladimir Putin, Fork, and the two Russians (who spoke Norwegian with Serbian accents)...

Fork was pointing out the kill zone to Putin and the two Russians who spoke Norwegian with Serbian accents...

“The American journalist will be meeting his contact at midnight...right there.”

The right there in question...was the mezzanine level of the Silver Legacy Casino. Situated in front of Rum Bullions Bar, the site was located at an active intersection. People were continuously moving about...

Putin was a mixed bag of emotions. The spot was not ideal. However, with triangulated gun fire, he was reasonably sure he could kill the American journalist (as was his right), thus; securing the job as the right-wing American fascist, Sharon Angle’s, press secretary.

Still...things were not going smoothly...

He had specifically requested Serb-speaking Norwegians with Russian accents and had gotten Norwegian-speaking Russians with Serbian accents. What a cluster fuck. This was definitely “OLD” face of Russia shit when he was clearly trying to be the “NEW” face of Russia.

Being Russian...he cusses in Russian...with a Russian accent...

They were standing outside the Sports Book Bar. Several fans were having a loud and boisterous argument. The antagonists were two Detroit-based fans...one football and one baseball...and a Chicagoan who advanced his own city’s football franchise...

“LIONS!” Cries out the Motor City football fan...

“TIGERS!” Argues the Detroit-based baseball fan...

“BEARS!” Counters the Windy City football fan...

OH MY! Thinks the reader after realizing how I had snuck that venerable Wonderful Wizard of Oz reference point into the narrative. Clever that...

“Oh Putin!! It will work out!” Says a suddenly alarmed Fork.

“Da. Da.” Putin absently confirms as he surveys the kill zone. He begins pacing off the shot...

The newest addition to the Bristol Palin, winged-illegitimate offspring, clan is still confused. Da-da? She follows after Putin...chirping quietly...quivering slightly...”Da-da...Da-da...”

“My Feet Hurt.” ...Observes The Dwarf after a Moment of Silence...

I was looking for the Tin man. We had gotten separated after I had wandered into a bookstore to pick up Sychophantastic’s latest book...How to Get Laid: A Tutorial. For some reason...Betty, the Smoking-Hot Good Witch of my Imagination, was on my mind...

While the title of the best-seller was, technically, accurate...the contents were proving disappointing...

Tin man comes walking up...he has purchased twenty-six pounds of a ‘fatty-type’ of meat...pastrami...

“Pastrami. Good call.” I note.

Tin man appears pleased with himself...

“Yeah. Hey, you want to carry half of it?” He asks hopefully before those hopes are dashed by my reply.

“Pfft. And look like a tourist? Not likely.”

We were headed to our rendezvous with the mysterious Agent Sun Fish who was mentioned on the lid of my single-serve, snack-pack of butterscotch pudding. An enigma, really. Much of this story still was. The notion of finishing it within an eight-part time frame was beginning to appear ludicrous.

Loud music is heard from the Rum Bullions Bar which sits across from the mezzanine. It’s karaoke night.

Susan, from the Canadian show...Just Ask Susan is currently on stage. She appears pretty drunk. She likes her rum...just ask Susan if you don’t believe me. Waiting to go on stage next is PDXKaraokeGuy...

“OH!” Calls out the Tin man after seeing them. “I want to sing karaoke!” Being that he’s actually Internal CD Player...it makes sense. He rushes over...the last I see he’s paying the cover charge and entering the bar with his twenty-six pounds of a ‘fatty-type’ meat...

On the mezzanine level, a small waterfall feeds a koi pond which, appears to host a number of our finned friends, mostly koi fish. I see one puffer fish. The way this story has been going...I almost half expect Agent Sun Fish to be an actual talking fish. Crazy that.

I’m almost finished with my survey of each individual fish when I feel the tap on my shoulder. I turn to find Betty, the Smoking-Hot Good Witch of my Imagination smiling at me. She’s clad in a long-sleeve, form-fitting white shirt, black mini-skirt, ‘classic’ knee-high argyle socks, and sensible black shoes.

“Agent Sun Fish I presume?” I manage...

Once again...I stood embarrassingly transfixed. First the sexy Santa outfit in Part 2, then naked in my dream in Part 5, and now this.

There was no way this girl couldn’t help but be absolutely adorable. She hugs me tightly and whispers in my ear, “Come with me.”

My mind was a three-ring circus doing summersaults over my testicles at the possible implications of this statement.

On the one hand, of course, she could simply mean to follow her somewhere but, more importantly, her statement could suggest a mutual bodily fluid thing...that said...that’s a lot a pressure on (what would be) the first time.

Practice makes perfect in these matters and I would certainly be more than willing to put in the time. I suddenly realized I was mentally explaining this fact to her retreating back. Sadly...she did mean the pedestrian version of the statement. Still...the view was nice as I followed her...

I was unaware of the three laser sights that had me triangulated and targeted...

(End Part 7)

(Part1)(Part 2)(Part 3)(Part 4)(Part 5)(Part 6) (Part 8)(Part 9)(Part 10)