MEMP’IS

 

 

BOOK THREE – “HEARTBREAK HOTEL”

 

 

(Incident Report... draft... of Sergeant Chester Aspid regarding events that commenced Thursday, January 4, 2035 - moments past midnight)

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE  “DON’T”

 

 

Sack and Norlin... so their IR goes... proceed to this storefront on Tenth; doubled as a ceramics repair joint and Jates Hall #216.  There's busted toilets all over... some of 'em even bein' pulled up for Jatesicovians when they run out of folding chairs.  Homes was right in at least the one respect, there were two pairs of clones, half the population besides the facilitator... Paris, he was called.  Slimy little keb we used to take down regularly for LC and petty griftin' before he found Triple-J.  He's been clean two years, maybe... maybe not... but there's fex supposed to be going on between him and the Trouble Factory; Patrols, mostly, so they didn't throw Sack and Norlin out, even let 'em ask their clueless questions.  Didn't get real answers, though, at least from what went into the IR, just a fat load of clone attitude and J-steppin' fex.

"Gentlemen, we have visitors this evening," Paris gets reported to have said, "a believer, Homer Sack, and his guest, Corporal Norlin, from the Trouble Factory.  Good afternoon, Homer, I'm Vinnie Paris.  Good afternoon, Norlin.  Health, Security and Property!"

And then, in order but over one another... like a bunch of kebbin' children singing 'Row Row, Row Your Boat' or some of that other mandatory fex they make kids sing... these eight Jatesists in the peanut gallery greet their visitors, introduce themselves and each one repeats the blessing that has been incorporated into the Constitution of Barataria, protectin' yourself from yourself since twenty-tweeyenty-ocho.  There is an ex-Professor at Man Ray got caught with a bottle and did time, guy wit' two armloads of tatts, and a janitor, a old man of no known means.  Calls C-Squad now and then, a frequent flyer, always complaining of being felt up in a bar by private dicks on loan to Ed Meese fifty years back or those welfare extortion files opened by some keb name of Califano even earlier... paranoid, all that fex supposed to have disappeared in the k'ball.  Even a kebbin' ice sculptor, who should've set off warning bells, but didn't, because I'm a Sergeant, not a Chief.

"I suspect our guests have some police-related questions to ask, but first," Vinnie told them, "Brother Bob has an affirmation to make."

One of the unclones - apparently fully human, or nearly so, rose on unsteady pins.

"My name is Bob "J", as many of you know, and I admit to powerlessness over my life style.  I have put that unworthy life in the hands of that Higher Power, whose messenger on earth was Jezekian Jemaliel Jates..." he confesses.

An' it goes on, and on... and on.  I think Sack wrote up this part, maybe the whole kebbin' IR, as it transcribes these confessions word for kebbin’ word... Norlin ain't so thorough when it comes to fex, too bad he was a rat.  Guy's six months free of caffa is our logorrheaic Bob J... used to be a giglio at HRI before gettin' jailed an' lost his job - now sweeps piss and puke off floors at some vegetable garden.  Violins, all around!  Norlin tried to pump these dooks, but it's a lost cause, like wringing water outa kidney stones.  Or ice, as it turns out.

"Health, security and property, gentlemen," Vinnie finally gives all of 'em the bum's rush, cops and sinners alike... "Jatesday is coming, and sooner than you think."

Two hours wasted and every kebbin’ sin these dooks confessed occurred before they found Jates and, significantly, statute of limitations for their lifestyle criminality’s run out in every kebbin’ case!

One thing they got right, though, is that there was this flyer somebody came in and taped up to the bulletin board, probably to keb with the minds of the recovering LCs... Norlin ripped it down on his way out of there, attached it to his IR.  Went like this...

 

 

BARDO PARTY, SATURDAY

 

              Celebrate the upcoming King's Centennial at the Mad House in Mormentz from dusk to dawn, Saturday... a night of riot, revelry and perverse refreshments.  Help plan for a Jatesday like no other...  come as you are, or, in homage to our Lord God Plague, masked.  All tribes are welcome.  Especially the Trouble Factory!

 

          (In the event that Saturday is abolished, the gathering will take place on its equivalent.)

 

          Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness!

 

          Gene and Noira Debonaire

 

 

 

 

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