Author Archive for M. Toole
Kissinger in Hell
Part VI
Continued from Page 2
and shed light on the Chilean junta’s use of Nescafe in their torture centers in Santiago and Valparaiso in 1975 and 1976. Dr. Kissinger, meanwhile, was busy counseling Augusto Pinochet and his generals in the ways of aggressive social hypnosis, then returning to hell on the weekends as part of a progressive work release program arranged by his attorneys.
According to literate demons, Kissinger, whom they call “Dr. Strangelove”, sits in his cell each evening never complaining of the heat, languishing over lavish plans concocted for the bombing of civilians in Hanoi and Haiphong during the Christmas of 1969. When he grew tired of the nostalgic he would review maneuvers of the Indonesian Army during the murderous invasion East Timor. Haiti, Greece and Panama were next, followed by Bolivia, Laos, the Dominican Republic and El Salvador. Laughing, he would move on to revel in the successes of Operation Condor employed in out-of-the-way places such as Uruguay and Argentina, countries which would “have certainly gone Communist” without his input.
“How many of those leftist mothers, fathers and children did they murder under your direction, Henry,” some interested demon would always ask.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Kissinger would answer. “Maybe a million, maybe less. Who was keeping score? Are you counting Paraguay too?”
After a long life in Paradiso, Kissinger was deemed too old for Purgatorio, with its arduous steps, and sent directly downtown to the Inferno where he now resides with other lost souls. His mansion in Dubai has been seized to pay legal fees in extradition court cases from Brasil to Cambodia.
During those last days when he was still roaming about freely up there he was only welcomed in the United States, Britain, Israel and Dubai since he was wanted for war crimes everywhere else. Finally the American government relinquished and, as it has done with all of its propped up strongmen and discarded dictators of late, turned on Henry and disallowed his continued “hiding behind the current”. He was seized by a sharp pain in the chest and fell from gentrified grace.
Virgil Coalcarr, a fellow traveler says Kissinger is fine in hell. He fits in well and is getting enough to eat. His chances of forced extradition to a host of countries is unlikely. Tomorrow the divina comedia continues as Kissinger meets with Pinochet to discuss the arrival of former Paraguayan dictator, Alfredo Stroessner, to their maximum security wing.
In a pre-released statement Kissinger told Pinochet: “The taste of another man’s bread is always the sweetest.”
“The sweetest,” answered the former Chilean dictator, to the smiles of the netherworld guards.
Kissinger, due to his uncanny ability to inflict torment on millions while keeping his starched composure is the first known person to be admitted to hell before he actually died. His status within the Fraternal Order of Gehenna is pending due to his long association with Richard M Nixon, who is housed directly below Kissinger. Earning a
For more on this please turn to Dante on Page 44
HORSESHOE BREAKS TONGUE IN FISHING INCIDENT
(Colona) General Kashmir Horseshoe, 156, reportedly broke his tongue in three places while fly fishing the Uncompahgre River here it was reported today. According to the Ouray County Sheriff’s office the accident happened shortly after dawn. Although the report is sketchy at best several eye-witnesses gave this combined account.
“We observed a clumsy figure decked out in full military regalia descend into the river near Buckhorn Road at about 5:30 am. As he entered the water and began casting his fly rod about in a haphazard manner. Leaving the river to get his faithful mount he returned high in the saddle in his quest for breakfast. It was at the exact time that he landed a nice trout that his horse slipped and fell into the surging current.”
The witnesses admitted that they didn’t really see what happened next but it became apparent that the retired military officer was in trouble. One woman who came to his aid told reporters that Horseshoe’s line had somehow become firmly entwined around his sharp tongue and would not come loose. It was then that the break occurred. Fortunately there was not much line on the reel and his journey down the river was a short one. His horse, a less than gung ho buckskin gelding, was recovered, bruised but not shaken, down river near Delta that afternoon.
“He’s a resourceful old fart,” said another rescuer. “He began reeling himself in and avoided what could have been a disaster. He did, however, lose the fish.”
Horseshoe was cheated and released at St. Roscoe’s Hospital in Montrose. Doctors there confirmed that his tongue would have to be in a sardonic, vinegar-base splint for the rest of the summer. In addition he suffered a bruised ego and lost most of the hair on his left forearm. The better part of his brain will remain in traction for an undetermined amount of time.
A statement released by aides suggests that the publisher will not be able to speak clearly for at least a month but that he plans to go fishing again tomorrow since he’s already invested over two thousand dollars in flies.
“We in no way expect this accident to affect his ability as copy editor since his lips still move around quite freely,” said the release. “It’s just lucky that the line didn’t catch him around his skinny neck and pull him headlong into the waters, but it’s sad that he lost the fish.”
This is the second time in a decade that Horseshoe has suffered tongue breakage. In 2005 he was rendered unconscious after breaking the same fleshy muscular organ while negotiating the Headwall at Crested Butte. That injury, according to attending physicians, never really healed properly since Horseshoe refused to stop talking during his recovery period.
– Fred Zeppelin
Bomb Threat No Substitute for Poor Planning
SPECIAL FROM THE MADRID SQUID WRAPPER & WRESTLER
(Madrid) Hector Gomez running was late. His whole family was running late and, upon further examination, he found that his wife and oldest daughter had not yet begun to pack. It was 11:15. The plane was scheduled to depart at 4:00 and the airport was at least an hour away. He had six round-trip tickets to Morocco but the whole expensive excursion was in serious jeopardy.
What’s a father to do? The only sensible idea is to call in a bomb threat on the flight. That way the departure time would have to be postponed while security people searched for the bomb, and the Gomez family could make the flight and would not have to forfeit their fare. What could be simpler? He looked around at the mess that was his home and got on the phone.
“I’d like to call in a bomb threat,” he said. “On flight number…just a minute…I have it here…Flight #7728 to Morocco.”
“And where is your departure city, sir?” asked the voice on the other end.
“Why Madrid, of course.”
“Is that first class or coach?” asked the voice
“It’s for the whole plane,” Gomez shot back wondering about all the questions.
“Will there be carry-ons?” the agent continued.
“For a while,” Hector laughed, “then the whole plane is going up!”
He was enjoying the exchange having experienced robotic, bored-to-death agents in the past and now finally having one of them over the barrel.
“So, exactly what kind of a bomb has been employed?” asked the agent.
“I don’t know. It’s just a regular bomb, you know with a fuse and some explosives attached. I’m an accountant not an explosives expert…Wait,” thought Gomez realizing that if he wanted the airline to believe his story he would have to be more specific…”It’s a ticking bomb in a brief case, a brown leather briefcase…with a Real Madrid decal on it. Yeah, and it’s welded to the landing gear!”
“Wow, that’s pretty impressive,” said the agent. “I can see you’ve gone to a lot of trouble to pull this off, huh?”
“Yeah, well it’s no trouble at all thank you,” Gomez replied.
“So what time’s it supposed to go off?” asked the voice from the other side.
“Oh, about 5:00 pm,” he said.
“That’s right during supper,” gasped the clerk. “That won’t do. Can you reset the thing for later?”
“Say what? Are you out of your mind? I have a bomb about to go off and you’re worried about people getting their chicken croquet, cold, stale roll and jello?”
“Sorry, Mr…..But we have to pay attention to these kinds of things. Now, are you a member of our miles award program?”
“Why no, what’s that?”
“It’s an incentive program that rewards you for frequent flights. It’s…”
“Wait a minute. I’m calling in a bomb threat. I don’t want to join any clubs and I don’t particularly want to fly these days with all the terrorists and gunslinger pilots on board.”
“That’s nonsense. Flying has never been safer. Why we haven’t had a major crash since last Tuesday. Your taking a bigger risk out in a lightening storm, eating canned meat or driving on the freeway. Where are you calling from anyway?”
Then it hit Gomez. This agent is attempting to keep me on the phone to determine my point of origin so she can call the cops.
“How stupid do you think I am?” asked Gomez. “I know you’re just trying to keep me on the line so as to identify me. You want to keep me talking while you determine my present position…Well it won’t work. Now let’s get back to the bomb.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’m going to have to put you on hold while I check through my employee manual. I’m kind of new here and this is my first legitimate bomb threat.”
And at that, Gomez is left to his own devices. Should he get off the line and protect his position or stay on to make sure she buys his threat. Then the agent returned.
“OK, Mr. Boom. I have the information and I’ll pass it along to our security people. We’d be happy to get back to you but you’re so secretive and all…Just so I get this straight: The bomb has already been placed or will you be placing it this afternoon?”
“As I have already stated the damn thing is welded to the landing gear!”
“Now there’s no reason to get surly. I’m just doing my job. There are procedures that must be followed with this kind of thing…airline policies that must be respected.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get short with you. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately. It’s already 11:30 and my family isn’t even packed yet…”
Gomez caught himself. He had almost given himself away.
“So you’ll be traveling with how many?”
“Twelve,” lied Gomez, trying to draw her off the scent. “Three babies, a deaf aunt, my wife and her six cousins.”
“My that’s quite a crowd but it only adds up to eleven. Who is the 12th ticket for?”
“It’s for me.”
“Oh, well have a great flight.”
Suddenly Gomez was interrupted by his wife, Alvira, who had taken a break from her packing to tell him that there were two husky Guardia at the front door asking for him.
“I’ve got to run,” said Gomez to the ticket agent. “There’s someone at the door.’
“Bye now,” whispered the voice at the other end of the line.
– – Alfalfa Romero
EPILOGUE: Gomez is currently serving the first of ten years at the Malaga-by-the-Sea Correctional Facility. His family, miraculously enough, finished packing and made the plane that day. Despite heightened security, they actually boarded on time for supper. The flight was pleasant and they reportedly loved Morocco. Visiting day is Wednesday but they are usually late.
Navajo Conduct Nuclear Tests
(Tuba City) The Navajo Nation announced yesterday that it had tested nuclear weapons at an undisclosed spot on its Arizona reservation. Although no results were documented, it is believed that the explosion(s) went according to design.
“We expect the Navajo to begin throwing their weight around the Southwest real quick,” said Melvin Toole, Bureau of UnIndian Affairs in Window Rock. “At the present we are alarmed by the development but really don’t know how to respond. After all precedent was set way back in 1945 over in New Mexico.”
Toole and others are concerned that the Navajo will use the weapons against ancient enemies, the Hopi who, at last inventory, had stockpiled six shotguns, three sling-shots and a 36-inch Louisville Slugger with which to defend their sacred lands against penetration from the outside.
“We’re very apprehensive as hastily constructed missiles are said to be aimed at cultural centers such as Albuquerque and Gallup in what could be construed as factional disharmony within the Navajo tribe itself,” gasped Toole. “One smuggled bit of data suggests that the Navajo may have the capacity to hit Washington DC by the year 2018.”
A representative for the Navajo Nation told The Horseshoe that his people were sick and tired of losing to the cowboys. They are weary of getting shot off horses in old Western movies and of being portrayed as peaceful rug and pottery makers while the rest of the world takes what it wants.
“No more Mr. Nice Guy,” said one Navajo scientist. “Now even Kit Carson will have to listen.”
– Kashmir Horseshoe
IT’S HIGH TIME TO PUSH RESET BUTTONS OUT THERE
— PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT # 611 —
It’s getting onto spring around these rocks and many of you out there look no better for the wear and tear of the season. However, as always, nature takes care of her own, providing relief on demand. We are referring to the little red reset button that, along with your umbilical cord, your good looks and your innate power of reason arrived with the package that is you.
Surprisingly enough most folks are not aware of this ambiguous presence…but it’s there all right. It’s just a matter of a little exploration and education. For instance: Most people will find their tiny reset button just north of their naval. If you happen to be left-handed, your red button is probably located behind your right ear. It’s the left brain-right brain thing again. If you were born in 1919, 1926, 1931, 1949, 1955, 1967, 1980, 1982, 1990, 1997, 2003, 2004, 2012 you will most likely discover your reset switch behind the left knee.
Physicians and psychologists agree that people who make use of available release mechanisms lead happier, healthier lives. So, when you go home tonight why not jump into a nice hot bath and push your button. Better yet, leave the chore to someone you love.
– Editor
Rockers Lose Benefits
(Durango) Rock and Rollers who have been eligible for fiscal benefits in accordance with the Musical Chairs Program may find themselves out of luck come April. Groups most seriously effected include those evolving since the Eighties when mainstream music began to overshadow socially conscious movements of the previous decade.
“We are not here to determine the quality of music or censor what should or should not be played,” said Efram Pennywhistle executive coordinator of Musical Chairs. “We’ve just run out of federal funds.”
The status of Christian rockers, elevator music enthusiasts and acid-country fans should remain the same at least through March. Rock and Rollers who currently receive the $500 monthly stipend may still be in line for retirement packages while those on limited disability, such as punkers and nouveau disco devotees will get nothing.
Rockers from the Fifties and Sixties will continue to receive a stipend for such necessities as guitar strings and drumsticks but only if they can prove they played, or attempted to play, an approved instrument during those years. Lead singers will be judged on an individual basis. – Rocky Flats
