<\/p>\n
It was 4am when Texas Billionaire Oscar bin Laden called me.\u00a0 I was paging through the Jessica London catalog because I had developed an unnatural fascination with the cover girl.\u00a0 Jessica London, allegedly, catered to plus size women, but all of their models seemed a touch more on the minus side. Flat stomached MILF\u2019s with glittering eyes awaited me on each page. The 30-something models, each shining with one thing:\u00a0 Sexual experience and habitual drug use.\u00a0 The cover girl\u2019s olive skin, heavy eyebrows, and kinky hair sent me into an early morning frenzy, her knowing eyes and perfect smile engulfed me as I flipped madly through four-tier skirt sets, column dresses, jacket dresses, and sweaters, to land myself in the Intimate Collection.\u00a0 There was my mulatto darling in her pajamas and, yes, a shelf-bra camisole and hot shorts with moderate coverage.<\/p>\n
I lingered.\u00a0 I studied the moderate coverage.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
\u201cNacho?\u201d\u00a0 Oscar, on the phone, shocked me back to the world.\u00a0 I had the headset screwed to my ear, lost in a world of moderate coverage, slowly turning the glossy page to look at the sweet half-breed in a two-piece tankini.\u00a0 A tiny mole marred the smooth, bronzed flesh above the swell of her left breast.<\/p>\n
I breathed, \u201cI\u2019m here.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m in town.\u201d\u00a0 Oscar replied.<\/p>\n
Outside my window, the security light clicked on.\u00a0 A word entered my head: \u201cFuck.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI have a favor to ask.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019re out of favors.\u201d<\/p>\n
Time and again, Oscar had tried to upset the world as I knew it.\u00a0 Working against the establishment, he had used his Texas oil money to hatch countless nefarious schemes, all of which I\u2019ve recorded in years of pathetic scribbling printed in strange webzines.\u00a0 Hearing from him again was a rude awakening, even if it had come at a time when I wasn\u2019t turning a page to look at a brown-skinned girl in a zippered skirtini.\u00a0 There it is.\u00a0 A zipper between her breasts.\u00a0 A sliding, metal gateway to the heavens.\u00a0 I could taste the metal in my mouth, hear the sound as I pulled the zipper down, smell the lotion on her skin, expose her dark nipples\u2026 The security light clicked off.<\/p>\n
\u201cSee,\u201d Oscar continued, \u201cI sort of figured you\u2019d be interested in this.\u00a0 It\u2019ll be controversial.\u00a0 Highly publicized.\u00a0 I know you\u2019re all about that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGo on.\u201d\u00a0 There she was in a figure-hugging Floral Georgette, anal sex leapt into my mind and I stumbled out of my trance at the same time Oscar said:<\/p>\n
\u201cI set a bomb in that Korean bible church on New Hampshire Avenue.\u201d<\/p>\n
The catalog dropped to the floor.\u00a0 \u201cOscar\u2026what\u2026?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt was either that or email you cartoons making fun of the Pope, which I did anyway.\u00a0 See, I figured that I could start a civil war in the US by pitting Catholics against Protestants. \u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know if that\u2019ll work\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo, here\u2019s the thing.\u00a0 I sort of used you as cover.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, your mom was Catholic, right?\u00a0 And the rest of your family is Baptist, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
I had to think about it for a moment, \u201cYou know, I\u2019m not sure about the Baptist part.\u00a0 And mom\u2019s bought the farm, nor was she seriously Catholic.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou say that, but it\u2019s not true.\u00a0 You\u2019re the perfect civil war family!\u00a0 Brother against brother.\u00a0 It\u2019ll catch on with the press and spark a nation-wide explosion that\u2019ll unseat the current gov\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cOscar, please tell me what you\u2019ve done.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you.\u00a0 Now let me in.\u201d\u00a0 The security light clicked on again.<\/p>\n
I took a moment to seek and embrace an inner peace.\u00a0 A place in my heart where I opened a door to Our Lord Jesus Christ and \u2013<\/p>\n
\u201cAre you there?\u00a0 What the fuck are you doing?\u201d Oscar screamed through the phone.<\/p>\n
I looked down and saw that I had begun masturbating.\u00a0 Some subconscious reaction to Jesus Christ?\u00a0 Was Jessica London really Jesus Christ?<\/p>\n
I heard the front door open and quickly covered myself as Oscar stormed down the hall.\u00a0 He stepped into my study and glared at me.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thought vampires had to be invited inside!\u201d I said, attempting humor.\u00a0 Oscar just shook his head, then moved to my leather chair and sat down heavily, a rattle of change shifting somewhere deep in the cushions.<\/p>\n
\u201cI come,\u201d he said, and I flinched for several reasons, \u201cto bring you in on my greatest plan.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat if I just don\u2019t care?\u00a0 What if I want to not be involved?\u00a0 What if I want to die in ignorance?\u00a0 Why are you in my life?\u201d<\/p>\n
He seemed shocked.\u00a0 Tensing up in the chair with his hands gripping the armrests he leaned forward, \u201cYou really are a piece of work,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n
He shrugged and grinned, \u201cI don\u2019t know, I\u2019m trying to unnerve you.\u00a0 It\u2019s a night of adventure, Nacho.\u00a0 Come with me and you\u2019ll see something that\u2019ll break the hum-drum.\u201d<\/p>\n
Somewhere in me is a terrible thing.\u00a0 I\u2019ve recognized and understood it in these last few years of my life, as maturity has come to me hand in hand with the realization that life sucks, but I\u2019ve not been able to control it.\u00a0 It\u2019s the one thing that leaves me off balance, that endangers both my body and mind.\u00a0 It\u2019s the part of me that selects the type of woman I ask out, and keeps me from a solid, reliable career path.\u00a0 It\u2019s the part of me that has me convinced that keeping my Acura for 25 years so I can get antique tags \u2013 all as an elaborate, private joke \u2013 is a smart and rewarding idea. \u00a0The part that craves insanity in every form.\u00a0 It spoke next:<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay, Oscar.\u00a0 I have your word that I\u2019m not going to get killed or raped or wake up in Baghdad, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
Oscar shrugged, \u201cBaghdad is nice this time of year.\u201d\u00a0 He stood up, \u201cYou know, like, ten thousand years ago.\u00a0 Let\u2019s go!\u201d<\/p>\n
Oscar\u2019s right hand man was Ali, a quiet, dangerous monster who drove an unmarked, windowless van.\u00a0 Ali usually had several of his boys with him but, tonight, he sat in the driver\u2019s seat of his van, alone, staring forward.\u00a0 I felt like I was hitching a ride across the Styx as I piled into the back of the van with Oscar and sat on the floor.<\/p>\n
As soon as the door rolled shut, Ali took off at a speed that sent me sprawling, and Oscar launched into his lunatic plan to set Catholics against Protestants.\u00a0 \u201cWith religious war in America, there\u2019ll be tremendous opportunities for businessmen like you and I.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI really don\u2019t see \u2013 \u201c<\/p>\n
\u201cThink about it!\u00a0 You\u2019re a publisher now, right?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh god, I just don\u2019t know anymore.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cEntertainment is as big a commodity as steel, rubber and fuel during wartime.\u00a0 People will crave what you have to say.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd your business opportunities?\u201d<\/p>\n
He shrugged as if it should have been obvious, \u201cGlobal conquest.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWanna swap?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGod, no!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSo we\u2019re going to \u2013 what? \u2013 firebomb a church tonight?\u00a0 That\u2019s so Alabama, Oscar.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, no, the bomb\u2019s set.\u00a0 Those Koreans are going up in flames Sunday morning.\u00a0 We\u2019re going to a warehouse in old Silver Spring where I\u2019m going to show you something that\u2019ll make your socks roll up and down.\u00a0 Together, we\u2019re going to change the world.\u00a0 Through religious war, I will become god and, along with me, you will have the opportunity you desire.\u00a0 Do you want to hire Stephen King for your weird kitchen table publishing house that smacks of failure?\u00a0 You can have him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI want Darius James.\u201d<\/p>\n
Oscar blinked, then shook his head.\u00a0 \u201cYou can hire staff.\u00a0 You don\u2019t have anyone now, do you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy aunt\u2019s cat, Missy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s she do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe vomits on vital legal documents.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ali took us through Silver Spring at a breakneck pace.\u00a0 I looked at mourning towards Bonifant Street and the Quarry House, from where I had recently been ejected, then my eyes fell on the Tijuana Caf\u00e9 and I thought to myself \u2013 new hangout.\u00a0 Passing Jackie\u2019s, we tumbled under the railroad bridge and, unexpectedly, Ali made a wild turn to the right that sent me sprawling once again.\u00a0 Oscar, it seemed, had developed some strange center of gravity over the years.\u00a0 Pulling in near the Used Hotel Furniture Outlet, Ali slowed to a crawl and brutally punched something attached to the passenger side sun visor.\u00a0 I watched as a garage door along the face of the nameless warehouse wall rolled open.\u00a0 Once it was up, Ali drove carefully into the dark, gaping maw.\u00a0 He stopped and punched the door opener again.\u00a0 The three of us, then, sat silently.\u00a0 I listened to the door closing behind us, but Oscar was in his weird world, feverishly watching me.\u00a0 When the door slammed shut, he barked, \u201cReady?\u201d<\/p>\n
We left the van.\u00a0 Ali sprinted into the darkness and, soon, a white-hot sun flare of overhead lights and flood lamps exploded.\u00a0 I closed my eyes, then opened them slowly to see, before me, what looked like a Toyota Siena.\u00a0 It was nautical blue and had been modified nearly beyond recognition:\u00a0 Night-black windows, wheels that looked like they belonged on a military vehicle, and alterations that made no sense to my suburban mind.\u00a0 Then, beneath the grill, a dim red light lit up and began to pulse back and forth.<\/p>\n
I caught my breath, \u201cOh no.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh yes!\u201d Oscar shouted maniacally.<\/p>\n
Someone was speaking from inside the car.\u00a0 I hoped.\u00a0 \u201cHello Mr. bin Laden.\u00a0 Hello Ali.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis is Nacho Sasha.\u201d Oscar\u2019s voice shuddered as if he were on the verge of ecstasy.<\/p>\n
I felt some shift in the car, perhaps just subconsciously, as if it were turning towards me.\u00a0 \u201cHello Mr. Sasha.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho\u2019s in there?\u201d I asked softly.<\/p>\n
Oscar\u2019s laugh was quick, broken by a gasp, like a madman trying to hide his greatest plan.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t say it.\u201d<\/p>\n
Oscar beamed, \u201cI am.\u201d<\/p>\n
I shook my head.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m going to tell you!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u00a0 No, no, no.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cReady?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNuh-uh.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe car\u2019s alive!\u00a0 It\u2019s name is Infidel One.\u201d<\/p>\n
I closed my eyes, held my breath.\u00a0 Then, letting it go, I turned towards Oscar.\u00a0 \u201cWhat are you going to do?\u201d<\/p>\n
He stepped back and waved his arm towards the car with a flourish, \u201cInfidel One is invincible.\u00a0 With it comes the world.\u00a0 The first of many, it will be the ultimate weapon.\u00a0 Today — Silver Spring!\u201d\u00a0 He slapped my shoulder cheerfully, \u201cTomorrow, a very considerable portion of DC.\u00a0 Then, some time later, lots more stuff.\u201d<\/p>\n
Something hit me then.\u00a0 Something broke.\u00a0 I felt years of dispassionate, apathetic bitterness shed my bones.\u00a0 I felt, for the first time in my life, belief in humanity, faith in those around me, and the monstrous wrongness that emanated from Oscar.\u00a0 Hatred flew from my soul and I knew, right there, that I had to make a choice.\u00a0 I sucked in a breath, weaved drunkenly to the side, then spun around and delivered the first punch in my life to Ali\u2019s jaw.<\/p>\n
Ali took it standing.\u00a0 He tilted his head a fraction, his face betraying no emotion.\u00a0 Oscar, agape, didn\u2019t move.\u00a0 I hesitated, waiting for something I didn\u2019t understand, then I turned and sprinted towards Infidel One with Ali right behind me.<\/p>\n
I swung open the driver-side door, dancing to the right, and Ali failed to react in time, misjudged his distance from me.\u00a0 He hit the door with his shoulder, ripping it out of my hands, and lost his footing.\u00a0 The door hit and closed and I pulled it open again while Ali regained his balance and prepared to leap.\u00a0 I dove inside, but Ali grabbed my ankle and tugged viciously.<\/p>\n
My mind spun with horror, I played my last card as I gripped the steering wheel, my body rising and stretching between my hold and Ali\u2019s powerful hands.\u00a0 \u201cInfidel One, my household makes over $150,000 a year and I live in suburban Maryland!\u00a0 Do you recognize me?\u201d<\/p>\n
Infidel One did not respond, but my grip managed to defeat Ali\u2019s pulling.\u00a0 He let go and I fell hard against the seat, my knees cracking the door frame.\u00a0 I started to clamber back into the car, but then he punched me viciously in the thigh.\u00a0 I twisted, a scream half catching in my throat.\u00a0 Pain rolled through my body and I shouted, again, \u201cDo you recognize me?\u201d<\/p>\n
Infidel One finally replied.\u00a0 \u201cHmmm\u2026 Do you have any children?\u201d<\/p>\n
I put my head against the bottom of the dashboard, gripping the wheel, while Ali grabbed the back of my pants and yanked hard, my belt buckle driving into my guts.\u00a0 I croaked: \u201cNo, no.\u00a0 But I once dated a legal secretary who made $28,000 a year and bought a house in Bethesda for $550,000.\u201d\u00a0 Desperation mounted, my voice rose in pitch, \u201cI\u2019ll have kids one day, I swear!\u00a0 And they\u2019ll be white and beautiful and I\u2019ll drive them to soccer practice.\u00a0 White \u2013 \u201c\u00a0 Ali aimed another punch at my back.\u00a0 I twisted, yelling, \u201c \u2013is \u2013\u201c I kicked out, hitting Ali\u2019s knee, he lost his balance and slammed against the open door, \u201c \u2013right!\u201d<\/p>\n
Infidel One responded immediately:\u00a0 \u201cI recognize you.\u201d<\/p>\n
I let out an effeminate \u2018hurrah,\u2019 then demanded, \u201cHelp me!\u201d<\/p>\n
The pulse screamed in my ears and fried my fingertips.\u00a0 A blue-white light engulfed me, then faded, leaving a stale, electric taste in my mouth.\u00a0 I turned, agony driving spikes through my back and thigh, and watched Ali stumble back, his eyes wide, his face blackened, smoke curling from his hair.\u00a0 The stench of his flesh filled the air.\u00a0 Then, bonelessly, Ali fell to the floor.\u00a0 I reached over and slammed the door.\u00a0 All the doors locked as I did so.<\/p>\n
Oscar ran to the window, and I rolled it down halfway, grinning at him.<\/p>\n
\u201cInfidel One will never obey you!\u201d he shouted petulantly.<\/p>\n
\u201cOscar, I\u2019m disappointed.\u00a0 You\u2019ve created a sentient luxury SUV and I\u2019m a white, upper-middle class, 30-something suburban American.\u201d\u00a0 I leaned towards him.\u00a0 \u201cThink about it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThis ends our friendship.\u00a0 From here on out, we are enemies!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGood!\u00a0 Friends are expensive.\u201d\u00a0 Then I barked towards the wheel, \u201cInfidel One, let\u2019s go!\u201d<\/p>\n
And so it began.\u00a0 With an electric hum, Infidel One revved its engines and we blasted through the flimsy garage door, taking to Georgia Avenue, careening along the fast lane, and hitting the Beltway in a matter of heartbeats.<\/p>\n
—–<\/p>\n
Oscar bin Laden: Archives and discussion at http:\/\/www.greatsociety.org\/forums\/index.php?topic=1241.0<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[352],"tags":[353,193],"class_list":["post-2606","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-gsarchive","tag-gs-archive-2004-2008","tag-oscar-bin-laden"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2606","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2606"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2606\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2680,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2606\/revisions\/2680"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2606"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2606"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/greatsociety.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2606"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}