Page 58 - My FlipBook

Throughout the universe it was another in a month-long string
of very bizarre versions of ‘Mother’s Day’ which intelligent
beings simply don’t talk about. Even the Drunk Monks change
the subject. Tommy's deepest fantasies were twisted. He was a

pudgy redheaded effeminate man who drank watered down
light American beer made from rice or fruity rum or vodka
drinks. He pretended to long for a woman yet preferred to
spend his time with men. He would make faces and refuse to
finish a real beer if anyone bought him one. He was an
embarrassing sight. He had fantasies for his mom, but he was
really gay, but wouldn't figure it out for a few days yet. He was
the ultimate incestuous fantasizer. The universe saw its darkest
day when he held Gnurdleigh's XTC. Fortunately for the

cosmos, he did not have the XTC when he was in the bathtub
at the Greenville Inn.

The following morning Tommy had just arrived at the access
road and found the side road to his personal office and
laboratory blocked by several perfectly clean and shiny
unmarked black Hummers. He instinctively pulled over at the

entrance as if they were looking for him. A swarm of clean-cut
men with suits, sunglasses and a military attitude wandered
about looking, from this distance, like ants. It was like
something out of a Hitchcock movie. Every car was stopped.
Every driver was surrounded, then frisked. Their keys were
taken, all doors, the hood and the trunk were opened. Then
several men in black suits who drank cheap beer tore the car
apart. When they were finished they walked away, signaling

48 BeerQuest