The Amp, the Guitar and the Studio

Chefman had been awake for an hour before Lena got up. He was text messaging an old friend, Lieutenant Colonel Boris Potchky, formerly of the KGB, now retired. The texts read:

"Boris, urgent. It's the Angel. I need some PVV-5A. Enough to destroy and torch a car, no more than that. I'm at the Minsk Crowne Plaza."

"Angel, long time no see. Come visit. Will send package with Jerzy later today, What room?"

"Thank you. Room 657. Will repay kindness."

"No problem. You have my information."

"What's that all about?" asked Lena, yawning.

"Just planning a warm welcome for our friend Mr. B," he replied. "I'm sure we'll see him this evening. Meantime, let's go have brunch; you hungry?"

"Famished."

"Good, let's get ready. And do me a favor, stay close to me. They're trying to get to me through you. OK?"

"How close?" she said brushing her lips on his cheek.

"No. We can't be distracted. We didn't live this long only to be taken down in a hotel room from self-induced distractions. Right?"

"And PVV5A?" she asked.

"Russian plastic explosive. We will need it."

"Right..." she grumbled. She undressed and headed toward the bathroom. Chefman pretended not to notice. But a brain scan would have looked like this:

6867565137_6a5a7c5caa_zps4afdca48.jpg
 
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The three men had been driving east from Colorasta for about twelve hours. Rango and Frank were purposely skipping Sergio in the driving rotation more due to the fact that whoever drives gets to pick the radio station than anything else.

"That's it" Frank said; "I'm beat! We are almost in Illinois, I say we either pull over and sleep or we let Sergio drive for a while."

"Fine" Rango replied;" Look Sergio, I have set the GPS on my phone for the most direct route there, all you have to do is follow the blue line and wake me when we need gas. Preferably a Speedway... I have my Speedy-Rewards card with me and I almost have enough points saved up for a bag of Sun Chips... Do NOT! I repeat, DO NOT! reset the GPS!"

"Okay... Dad!" Sergio replied.

"He's going to be fine Rango. Aren't you Sergio?" Frank asked.

"Of Course!" Sergio spat back. "I am plenty rested.. Here I'll even put on some classic rock for you guys, how about some Floyd? DSOTM sound alright to you?"

"Sure." Rango said.

"Fine" Frank replied.

"Good! Man, I remember before I started smoking weed.. DSOTM was the only album that ever put me to sleep. I would just put my headphones on and before I knew it..."

"ZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz" Frank and Rango snored in unison from the backseat.

After being asleep for four hours Frank awoke to Rango freaking out; "G@d D@mn!t!!! I knew it!"

"What? Where are we? Where is Sergio?" Frank asked.

"We are at Zara's." Rango said.

"Who is Zara?" Frank retorted; "She sounds exotic."

"It's like H&M, you know, one of those european stores that sells cheap crappy clothing that all the "kids" like."

Just then Sergio returned with two fists full of shopping bags. He was wearing some white oversized women's sunglasses and eating a Cinnabon.

"Hey guys! I hope you don't mind but I had to stop and get us some new clothes, and something in this car smells like burning cabbage."

"Yeah it does." Frank replied; "Please tell me that you just put the parking brake on when you got to this mall."

"Wait!" Rango yelled out, " I just got an email from Doc Bill, he says that the "Tree Cola Bredren" are on their way to Stevensville and they have brought the guitars!"

"Um, yeah. I kinda wanted that to be a surprise." Sergio said; "but I guess you'll have to make do with this one instead."

He handed the two men the shopping bags, gave Rango a Chai Soy No Water Latte and Frank a Guinness disguised in a Starbucks tumbler.

"Whoa, Thanks!" Frank said.

"Yeah, thanks Sergio" Rango replied; "This almost makes up for driving up I-80 with the E-Brake on. I'm amazed that you were able to get the "Bredren" together and everything, but now how are we gonna get to Stevensville? The car is JACKED! No way I'm putting another rental on my Discover Card! This is going to affect my flyer miles!!!"

Frank handed Rango the tumbler full of Guinness to calm him down; " Yeah, I'm sure we could just hop on a plane and get to Maryland, we should be there in a few hours." Frank stated.

"No." Sergio retorted; " Red surely has minions at the airport, we can't risk getting caught on the way there."

"Well then how are we gonna get to Stevenssss........." Rango trailed off and moved his free hand to shield his eyes from an enormous glare approaching him.

"In this!!" Sergio announced! "And WE ain't driving.... She is!"

Frank and Rango were beyond stunned. Frank had been around Sergio enough to know that anything could happen, but.... well who wouldn't be a little shocked?

In front of the men pulled up a stretch limousine that have must have been made up from the at least three DeLorean's, maybe four.

"Is this what you spent all your "50 shades of Blanc" royalties on?" Frank asked.

"Well not all of it... the rest I spent on getting her to drive me around.... It's amazing what this chick will do for cash nowadays!"

The driver's side door opened up (and by up, I mean UP!) and a pair of legs slid out.....

"OMG!" Rango said; "She's driving us?! WE ARE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!"

"Hi Sergio!! I got here as fast as I could.... well I mean as soon as my dealer/agent/dad (or just "Dad" for short) was able to get the damn tracking ankle monitor off..." The girl said as she leaned in for a kiss on the cheek from Sergio.

"Great to see you Lindsay!" Sergio said while coping a feel.

Once again Lindsay Lohan is re-added to the character list.






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Lindsay Lohan was now added to the character list."

Got news for you guys...read back...Lindsay is only there 'cause her therapist (who was seeing her daily, and occasionally, 2X per day) was killed by Opraman, shortly before Opraman was done in by Ell. She's been a character for years, and a character in this passion play for almost a week already.
 
Got news for you guys...read back...Lindsay is only there 'cause her therapist (who was seeing her daily, and occasionally, 2X per day) was killed by Opraman, shortly before Opraman was done in by Ell. She's been a character for years, and a character in this passion play for almost a week already.

That must be where she crept into my mind from! Who's to say Red hasn't cloned an army of Lohans? Who knows if Opraman killed the right Lindsay? Who's to say Opraman is dead? Only time will tell.....
 
That must be where she crept into my mind from! Who's to say Red hasn't cloned an army of Lohans? Who knows if Opraman killed the right Lindsay? Who's to say Opraman is dead? Only time will tell.....

Opraman was totally blown up by Ell....Opraman is pushing up daisies. He's stone cold dead. He's an ex-person. If he didn't have bone fragments left, he'd be nothing at all. 'Ees dead. Gone to meet his maker. No longer with the living. Shuffled off this mortal coil. Dead.
 
Opraman was totally blown up by Ell....Opraman is pushing up daisies. He's stone cold dead. He's an ex-person. If he didn't have bone fragments left, he'd be nothing at all. 'Ees dead. Gone to meet his maker. No longer with the living. Shuffled off this mortal coil. Dead.

If I recall correctly Sergio died once too. How do we know that was the real Opraman? Leprechauns have mystical powers that will only stop whence they are returned to the bowels of hell... or New Jersey. What exactly caused the sink hole again?
 
Red watched the live feed from the T.J. Maxx dressing rooms and wept. He was surrounded by a treasure pile beyond his imagination, yet he still felt empty inside. Ever since Ratchet and Buck left him, Red had taken to carrying around an old life-sized Gibson Ace Frehley cutout around town in order to keep him company. He talked to it...... it was creepy.

"I have tried to make friends! Snarf snarf.. (sob) ...Why doesn't anybody love me!!!?" While the sight of Red violently crying until a shamrock-shake-colored fluid poured from his nose, it was the kind of scene where you started to feel a little bit bad for the guy.... I mean he really did try to make an impact on the guitar-nerd community, he didn't just sit back and complain about guitar manufacturers... he built his own! It must have been hard growing up as a leprechaun, the daily childhood beatings must have been brutal!

"I refuse to (Burrrrrp!) go on this way!!" Red yelled; " If nobody wants to be my friend?...... well that's why I just made my own friends!"


The disaster at Opramans house wasn't an ordinary sink hole, it was actually an underground gestational chamber that was opening and it wound up destroying the home. Legions of leprechauns and Lindsay clones poured out of the debris and into the streets of New Jersey,within minutes every news station was reporting on the chaos.

"A gaggle of Lohan's destroy a salt factory after mistaking it for cocaine.... Weather at nine." Just then the CNN feed got cut off! You could clearly see a leprechaun lunge at the camera man seconds before the live feed was terminated. When the news reached Red he was more than satisfied.... he was gloating.

"I knew Opraman would come through! Snarf... All of those damn BOC collectables throughout the years have finally paid off!" Red yelled to no-one in particular; "Behold World!....My Friends!!!! Ah, ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ha. (breath) Ha,ah,ah,ha,ha,ha,ah,ha,ah... haha,....... (breath) HA!..... snarf."
 
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After what Chefman regarded as a decent brunch - scrambled eggs, pork sausages, a steak, several rolls, lots of butter, a few pancakes, orange juice, four cups of coffee, and an absinthe, he said to Lena, "Dig?"

"Ell, I like you a lot, but I'm not sure I really dig you. You won't have sex with me."

"I meant with shovels. Are you ready to look for the coin?"

"Yes," she replied. "Seventy years, Ell. I have a lot to do besides dig, ok?"

"Oh, would you mind carrying that bag? My hands are full."

"OK, what's in it?"

"It's the explosives. The waiter was one of my friend's men. He brought it while you were powdering your nose."

"Is it safe to carry?" she asked.

"Not really," he replied. "Let's go."

Ell chuckled as Lena walked very, very carefully toward the car.
 
Frank, Sergio, and Rango were getting along famously, after all they were being driven to Maryland in a stretch DeLorean by "America's Favorite Train-wreck": Lindsay Lohan.

The men had no more stress about getting to Stevensville. They passed the time with fruity drinks and "Burgertime"; the video game from the 80's that Sergio had playing in the back of the stretch. The hours passed easily as long as Sergio gave Lindsay a few "bumps" from the container labeled: "Crazy B!#ch Food". They would stop once in a while to use the bathroom and gas up, but it wasn't until a late night pit-stop for taquito's that Rango became alarmed.

"Hey Lindsay!" Rango called out across the desolated truck stop; "Don't meet anybody in the showers, we gotta get a move on."

"Yes Dad!" Lindsay replied, she had taken to calling him this after hearing Sergio say it once. Rango resented it, and was glad that there was a blackout window between the driver and passenger sides in the "DeLimo", as the guys were now calling it.

"I'll take a chicken, a pork, and a chimmy-cheese steak taquito please." Frank said to the cashier.

"You wanna chimmy-cheese steak-chicken-pork taquito? The cashier replied.

"No. I want one chicken, and one pork, and one chimmy-cheese steak taquito. please." Frank said back.

"Yes sir, that is exactly what I said. You want one chimmy-chesse steak-chicken........" the cashier and Frank went on like this for enough time that Sergio wandered off to the section of the truck stop that carried all those bitchin' Mudflap-Momma's stickers, CB's, and "Krull" knives until a familiar female walked up to him.

"Hey there sexy... You got anything for me?" The woman asked.

"Lindsay, I told you that it was best if you did that while we were in the "DeLimo". There are security cameras everywhere... I'm sure you don't want to get caught... What if it winds up on TMZ?" Sergio asked.

"Uhh, whateveeeer fruitcake." Lindsay replied and walked away towards the shower area. A few minutes later a scream was heard coming from that shower area, it was Rango and two Lindsays wrestling on the floor. Rango was about to confront Lindsay about her "dad" comment when he noticed Lindsay number two walk into the same room Lindsay number one did a moment earlier...

"Frank! I need some help!" Rango screamed.

"In a minute!" frank replied; " No, I want three total taquitos. One chicken, one pork....... Oh screw it, Sergio! Come here and order me some food while I get Rango some toilet paper."

"Um, yeah... May I please purchase a number one, a number two, and a number four please?" Sergio asked the cashier.

"Okay, you want one chicken, one pork, and one chimmy-cheese steak taquito? $3.68 please" The cashier handed Sergio the food and his change in record time, never has a business transaction gone smoother. He walked back to the shower area and saw Frank standing there watching Rango wrestle with the twin Lindsay's. he turned to Frank and asked: "Should we do something?"

"In a minute." Franks said; "In a minute."
 
Chefman drove the Mercedes through Minsk, to what was once the outskirts of town; he didn't recognize much, but he had a sense of where the hospital had been situated in 1813 relative to the town center, whose location hadn't changed.

He pulled out his laptop. He had read papers by a noted Egyptologist who'd discovered new ruins and pyramids using satellite photography. He pulled up a file of satellite photographs that he'd bought and borrowed from scholars, knowing that if the old hospital and cemetery were not located under new construction, he'd be able to see the outlines of foundations and burial sites. He was hoping against hope that they would be in an undeveloped part of the city, perhaps buried over by more modern cemeteries, or under fallow land.

Quickly his experienced eyes scanned photograph after photograph. Indeed he was able to make out the shapes of the foundations of earlier structures in parts of Minsk, but not what he needed. His work continued for several hours. Lena napped. At about 3:30, he noticed a piece of land that was undeveloped that looked promising. He zoomed in; there it was. He was familiar with the shape of the hospital because he'd sketched it many times from his window while being held by the Russians. And within about 300 meters from the West side of the building were the faint, irregular outlines of ditches and trenches. This had to be it -- trenches originally constructed for defense had been used for mass burials of French prisoners who died in hospital, out of convenience and lack of manpower to dig proper graves. He knew where to dig!

He woke Lena, and handed her a mint. He hated morning breath. "I've found where to start," he said tersely. He closed the laptop and had one more thing to do. Placing the explosives package under the drivers' seat, he deftly wired a fuse and electronic detonator that could be triggered from his iPhone. With his training over many years, it was child's play. It was undetectable to the naked eye. Then he drove to the site, guided by his GPS and satellite map.
 
"We're almost ready to start," said Paul Smith. "The last two people we are waiting on just pulled up outside. The first is driving a rented 1970 Corvette that is about a half a quart low on oil - those tappets are really making a racket. The other is in a BWI Limo driven by a short Indian man who likes pistachios. Over the sound of the nuts, I can hear that there is a small leak in the PVC tubing near the starter and that his left blinker is stuck on, but the rear light is out."

Shortly thereafter, Davy Knowles walked into the room. No one was prepared for the second man except Paul. Following Knowles was a slightly paunchy man with short cropped gray hair. He was carrying a PRS prototype with three narrow 408 pickups. It was David Gilmour.

"Good. Let's get started," said Paul. "David, let's start with you, thanks for coming."

"Thanks for having me," Gilmour said, winking at Sky Fall in the back of the room. "I put this guitar though it's paces and it is everything you promised and more. I can get every tone I ever wanted from a good 'quack' to the most blistering full humbucker growls I could ever need. I'm anxious to hear what 'Number One' thinks about it."

With that, Gilmour handed the guitar to the gentleman in the first row. Carlos stood and walked over to the HX/DA, dialed in his personal settings and plugged in.

The room vibrated sympathetically to every note from "Once It's Gotcha" as Carlos played. A large smile lit up his face. Looking at Paul, Carlos said, "Can I get this in Rasta?" Paul nodded 'yes' as he rolled his eyes.

Santana handed the guitar to Knowles who tweaked the HXDA and launched into "Fire On The Bayou." In the back of the room, Autumn Sky beamed. That song always made her want to strip naked and jump on Davy, but then again, almost anything Davy did had that effect on her. Looking over at her friend, Sky Fall was thinking, "I bet she could cut glass with those…"

There was unanimous agreement in the room that the new prototype was something really special. As the buzz continued, Paul laid out his plans for how that guitar and the nearly four hundred identical ones he, Paul Miles and Skitchy had made in secret during off hours would be used against the leprechaun army and bolster the guitar know as "The One" in the fight against Big Red.
 
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Oppraman stood up painfully. The crawl through the escape tunnel had almost done him in, he wasn't as young as he used to be. Over almost 40 years, he had excavated the tunnel himself in secret. His wife thought the pile of dirt on the drive every weekend from Spring through Fall was a weekly delivery of topsoil for their yard which was constantly at the mercy from Arf's large, yet disappointing bowel movements. It didn't help that Oppraman continually spiked Arf's food with phenothalene to perpetuate the deception.

As he stood on the outbuilding some hundred yards away looking at the smoldering remains of his house and basement lab, he tried to piece together what went wrong. "It must have been the Argon Laser," Oppraman thought to himself. "Those things can get out of control so easily."

Oppraman smiled a wry smile to himself as he thought of the bones he had kept in the lab for the past year. The engineer they belonged to was the first studio engineer he had killed and now they would cover his trail. Everyone must think he was dead. This might work out even better than he had planned.
 
"Damn", said Oppraman to himself. "Now that everyone believes I'm dead....I can't have my prescription for medical marijuana filled at Montclair's Greenleaf Compassionate Care Center. I had an appointment tomorrow to pick up two ounces of Lemon Diesel and an ounce of Purple Koosh. What a waste".

He continued to make his way out of the secret tunnel and then smiled.

"I just remembered.....we're all going to wind up in Colorado before long anyway. Our destiny is to destroy he who would use "the one" against our ultimate goals.

And pot is legal there!"
 
Chefman pulled the special guitar/metal detection unit out of its gig bag. With the flick of the toggle switch, the neck bent to a 70 degree angle, and he attached the end of a cable to his iPhone. Paul had thought of everything. He said it was the most powerful metal detector in the world, and here it was, ready to be used in less than 30 seconds. Ell pulled up the special iPhone app that the PTC had written, got the shovels out of the trunk of the car, and he and Lena went to work.

Within ten minutes, there was a strong signal on the device, indicating buried metal. The detector was able to scan sizes and the display showed what appeared to be buried metal buttons in several layers, along with miscellaneous small metal objects that could be coins.

"I've found a place to start digging," he whispered to Lena, who had been walking behind him. She didn't answer. He turned his head; Bodashka had her, with his hand over her mouth. He'd been very stealthy. And he'd arrived as predicted; alone, holding an automatic pistol. Ell saw no other weapons.

"You tried to fool me, Hauptmann," said Bodashka. "Now I have the woman, and you both will dig for me. But first, Engel, you will transfer the money into my account properly."

"Will you give me the woman if I do that? I need her to help me dig."

"Yes, but I will stand over you both with my gun, and if you make a false move, I will kill you as I should have done at the hotel," Bodashka said.

"Of course you will. And you're thinking that you'll kill us anyway, Bodashka, after we find what we're after, but remember, if I'm not back in Berlin in 48 hours, my people will release the information that will ruin you. So if we have a deal, it will be that you leave us here, alone, with the car and what we are after, so that we can return to Berlin. And you will have your money. Fair enough?"

Bodashka thought for a few moments. If Berlin had information about his wartime betrayal of his country he was a dead man walking. He couldn't afford to take a chance.

"Fine, once the money is in my account. Make the transfer."

"My computer and datalink are in the car, Bodashka. I need to use it to make your transfer."

"I will sit with you to make sure you do it, and then I will need to use it to check."

"Fine. Let's go to the car and make it happen." Chefman walked to the car, and opened the driver's door, motioning to Bodashka to take the passenger seat.

"Oh no, Herr Hauptmann. I am wise to your tricks. I will sit in the driver's seat, and you will be the passenger this time." Chefman rolled his eyes.

"Only an idiot would booby-trap his own car that he needs to use to get back to Berlin, Bodashka, but go ahead." Bodashka got behind the wheel of the Mercedes, and Chefman got into the passenger seat. Reaching for the computer that was on the console, he booted up, and got a link to the internet. Then he logged onto Paypal, and initiated the transfer.

"You're all set, Bodashka. Now leave."

"Oh no, not yet, Hauptmann. I will wait and make sure this was a real transfer. I can now check the authenticity within minutes. Hand me the computer."

Chefman did. Then he got out of the car, and said, "Bodashka, I'm going to start digging. I'm unarmed and so is the woman. When you have your confirmation, you're going to leave. Or your past will come back to bite you."

But Bodashka was following his money now, intent on the computer screen sitting in the drivers' seat. Suddenly, he heard the door locks operate and as he looked up; he could see Chefman on a cell phone. The Mercedes blew up at that moment, killing Bodashka instantly. The Belorusian police would later suspect an organized crime hit, as Bodashka was a known insider, and all of the evidence was of Russian explosive devices.

The car had been registered to one of Leprechaun's money-laundering shell companies. It took the police weeks to determine the identity of the remains. Not much of Bodashka was left to identify.
 
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"........ And take these whores with you!!!!!!" The cashier hurled the two Lindsay's and Rango out the front door and onto the pavement. Rango got up and brushed himself off and gave Sergio and Frank a grin that only could come from a man that had wrestled two Lohans at the same time. (which in North America, among men aged between 13-87 there is about a three to one odds chance that you will... so just wait.)

"That's what I'm talkin' about!" Rango declared to the world," I think I need a cigarette!"

At the moment of realization that they weren't the center of attention anymore, they had that same moment like when a child falls and has to look around to make sure somebody saw them get hurt before they go through with the effort of crying, the two Lindsays looked at each other and did the same thing they had done since the were kids...

"Waaahhh!" The Lindsays wailed on the concrete.

Frank was... for a time employed by Sergio to clean up these kinds of messes, so he pulled out a bottle of ether and a rag and tried to subdue the women; "These crazy chicks won't stop! What'll I do?" Frank yelled.

Sergio slowly sang out the magical incantation that would lead the Lindsays back into the De-limo: "Yahhh-oooo... Yay-O- Yeah.....YO!" He threw a bag of coke and the keys into the front seat and slammed the door down (and I do mean Down!) and motioned for Frank and Rango to hurry into the backseat.

"What did you do that for?! You can't possibly think those two are fit to drive, Do you?!" Frank said while being pushed into the De-limo by his friends.

"Look" Rango seemed to understand where Sergio was going with this; " We are super close to Stevensville, but I think that there is something not quite right about there being two Lindsay Lohans... I've seen 'em up close.... they are exactly the same, as in duplicates! There was a period of time when I rolling around with them that they did some of the exact same moves on me..... I mean it was nice, but totally not right in a way."

"Okay Frank?" Sergio asked; "Remember that other time with the Olsen Twins when we went camping with Heath Ledger?"

"I thought we said we would never speak of that again." Frank said solemnly: "Especially not around other people." Frank motioned in Rango's direction.

"I have a feeling that when this is all said and done, Rango is going to make a pact with us to never speak of this again.... Yes?" Sergio replied.

"Hey! Rango said: " This better not be one of those "What happens in Vegas" kind of things. If there is one thing I am sure of after rolling around with those chicks is that I'm..."

"Give it a break Mr."Mani-Pedi," Frank spat; "You don't know the gravity of this situation Rango. There are crazy supernatural forces happening here, I can't relive the horror of Mary-Kate-Ann-Ashley again, once was enough."

"You mean those girls from Full House and The Joker?" Rango exclaimed; "What? Did the two of them do something to that dude from A Knight's Tale?"

"The One." Frank cried. (In the most manly way you possibly could after such trauma.)

"Which one? I bet it was that Mary Kate... " Rango said.

"No. Not one... but BOTH as THE ONE! Known to the world as Mary-Kate-Ann-Ashley; two twin souls that when pitted against each other turn into an entirely separate entity... A MEGA DIVA!" Sergio's eyes lit up with fire and the glazed over look of a washed up stoner who only eats mozzarella-sticks and drinks Gallo magnums; "The origin of the Lindsay clones must be somewhere near us, if we can get them desperate enough they may take us to their home."

"That's usually where my wife goes whenev..."

"I get it! You're straight, I'm sorry I called you Mr. Mani-Pedi man." Frank cut Rango off mid-sentence and turned to Sergio: " Is that what the bag of "coke" and car keys was all about?"

"Yup. I figure we have about an hour before they blow through that. It's mostly baby laxative and powdered sugar... and you know how everybody likes to use their own bathroom." Sergio said.

"Alright, but what will we do if they combine into a Mega-Diva before we get there? And don't think I have forgotten about that Heath Ledger business either, I think I have a right to know what may or may not happen to me!" Rango said getting quite persistent.

"They won't merge into "The One" until there is no hope left... and if you really have to know you have to promise to never tell anybody what we are about to tell you."

"I promise." Rango said.



An hour later the three men sat in complete silence, but every once in a while Rango would shake his head and mutter: "That's so F@#ked up." His reaction to the De-limo shaking to a grinding halt was subdued, it was like he had just learned for the first time that the NBA was as fake as wrestling; total devastation.

There were wild screams and noises that sounded as though the Lindsays had finally gone ferrel, and were raiding their parent's home for more blow. When the three men emerged from the De-limo they saw not a home per say, but what looked like a giant sinkhole with a little bit of house in it.

"Well it looks as though they brought us to the den." Frank stated.

"I think we may need to look around a bit." Sergio replied.

"That's sooo F@#ked up!" Rango repeated.

"You guys go after the Lindays, I'll dig around over here." Sergio suggested.

Sergio inspected the sinkhole looking for an opening when he found Opraman's prescription for his medical grade smoke; "Keep that." He said to himself and kept searching.






"
 
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Opraman was sitting in the car, pulled over on Route 80 in Hacketstown. He had figured that the best thing to do was to drive across I-80 all the way to Colorado. He could maintain contact with his minions through his various cellular and radio devices, and by the time he had reached Mountain time, he would be in a position to establish a rendezvous with Red, and the lesser leprachauns. All was going according to plan, despite his having survived a blast that leveled the house and left a pile of bones in the debris.


The only problem was the police officer standing outside his window.

"Do you know why I pulled you over? You were doing 80 in a 65".

"Sorry officer, I didn't realize".

The officer leans over and peers into the half open window.

"What's that smell?" He asks, as he reaches for his handgun, preparing to call for backup. A routine traffic stop had taken an unexpected turn as the pungent smell of ganga permeated the interior of the vehicle.

Opraman sensed that the situation was going to get out of control in a hurry.

He knew exactly what to do.
 
To make a long story short, Chefman and Lena sifted through a gigantic pile of bones and after a relatively disgusting 8 hours of digging through skeletons, found the coin with the map. They covered up their dig very thoroughly. Ell decided not to take Bodashka's car to the Minsk Airport.

There were no prints on the shovels, or the car Bodashka had arrived in, because the pair had used gloves and had been careful to wipe everything down, as they had with the Mercedes that had been destroyed. Ell stowed the shovels in Bodashka's trunk, and the pair started walking back toward town, looking no different from any pair of hikers.

It would now be on to Lida to search for the hiding place of The Object.
 
"Hey guys! Over here!" Frank yelled from a distance: "I found Something!"

Rango had followed the girls to what had remained of the bathroom in Opraman's sink-house. He had observed the Lindsays smoke a bottle of baby aspirin and pass out when he heard Frank call to him. " I guess these two are no worries for now." Rango said to himself and met Sergio in the backyard to see what Frank was spazzing about.

"It looks like a kids laser pistol, but it has some gender symbols on it... and some other I don't quite recognize." Frank had assisted Sergio on his book tour of Thailand so there should be no doubt to his deep familiarity with the sexes, if Frank didn't know what they were? Anything was possible.

"Well does it even work?" Sergio asked.

Frank took aim and fired at the ground. A green laser beam had fired from it but there was no sign of damage, not even a displaced piece of dirt could be found, "I don't know." Frank said; "It seems harmless enough." He then clicked the dial on the pistol to a symbol that resembled whatever Prince was calling himself for a while, and aimed at the two passed out Lindsays in the crushed bathroom, squeezed the trigger and sang: " Till I find the righteous ones... Computer Blue!"

The purple laser beam that shot from the pistol hit Lindsay #2 (Everybody's least favorite of the two) and reduced her to a small purple-ish-kinda- troll-leprechaun-elf-thing.

"What is that? Shoot it again! Turn the dial!" Rango screamed at Frank.

"Die! Lohan!" Frank twistd the dial on the pistol and sprayed a flurry of shots at the Lindsays.

The second the blue beams hit them they transformed into giant hulking oafs with red mullets, when the to Lindsa.. err Larry's? caught a glimpse of their new identities in the broken bathroom mirror they freaked: "Agggh! I would rather die!!.. but not before I rid the earth of such hideousness!!"

The Lindsa... uh, "Larry's" clashed in a bloody-melty mess of Venus Spa razors and Liquid Plumber, as they lay dying Rango swipes the gender pistol from Franks hand and has a look.

"Look! I think this has something to do with the leprechaun, only Red could think up such a twisted device... I don't even know what half of the symbols are? I'm taking a wild guess but I think this one is either a mushroom or a bowl haircut..." Rango accidentally pulled the trigger and the pink laser beam that shot out of it did something it never had before, it changed direction and boomeranged west across the sky. "Uh, I guess somebody is in for a surprise." Rango chuckled.



The police cars lights glimmered in the night sky on Route 80, right before the exit to Hacketstown sat Opraman facing the bearish state trooper... He knew exactly what to do.

"Uh, sorry officer but you see, I've had a little accident.... I was only speeding because I just happened to, uh, my pants." Just as Opraman said this, he became transfixed on a distant pink light reflecting in his rear-view until it finally hit him full force!

The bearish state trooper recoiled in horror as he witnessed the transformation of Opraman, he fell back into the street and looked up as the creature that was once Opraman climbed out of the car. There before him stood a gnarled beast wearing thigh high stripper boots, cut-off cargo shorts, a wolf t-shirt with a neck tie, and a white baseball cap... effectively every known gender stereotype rolled into one... with a bowl haircut.

Opraman, who was oblivious to his new deformity asked the officer: "License and registration? Could we please hurry? I'm a doctor on my way to see a patient." Opraman always got away with speeding when he used that line. "Please! It's a matter of life and death!"

Before the stunned state trooper could react, a semi-truck sped past the flashing police vehicle and drove over his skull leaving.... well... lets just say it was quite a mess.

"Great!" Opraman exclaimed; "Now I need new clothes! Siri? fnid me a twenty-four hour Land's End outlet..."
 
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Chefman was growing fond of Lena, and happy to be in her company. He gave her a big smile when they were seated on the hulking Russian helicopter for the trip to Lida. She coyly returned the smile and patted his arm.

The castle in Lida was constructed around 1330 by Grand Duke Gediminas to defend the Duchy of Litva against incursions from the Teutonic Knights. It would be 100 years or so before the Teutonic Knights were finally defeated at Tannenberg by the Lithuanians and Poles, meantime they ran ragged over Eastern Europe under the guise of a Crusade to convert the Baltic heathens. And the Lida castle fell to them, and to many others, over the centuries.

Chefman himself had been tempted to join their wars as needed to change identities, but was happier at the time in Western Europe.

Before long, the 'copter touched down in Lida, and the pair hailed a taxi and proceeded straight to the castle, which was also a tourist attraction. However, Lida was kind of light on tourists, and they found themselves nearly alone.
 
Standing in the empty courtyard of the “castle”, which at this point was four walls and a couple of towers that had partly been reconstructed in later years, Ell got his bearings. The coin was ancient, Ell guessed it probably dated from the late 7th Century and was of Italian origin. It had been inscribed in Latin:

Ab alta turris porta quatuor passuum Orientalium (From the high tower gate four paces East)

Tunc decem passus aquilonem (Then ten paces north)

Duo passuum ad Occidentem et foderit (Two paces to the West and dig)

duos cubitos (two cubits)

In Late antiquity and in Rome, this unit was standardized as two gradūs or five Roman feet (1.48 metres or 58.1 English inches). Since the courtyard was now empty but for Lena and Ell, Chefman got out a tape measure and worked it out, marking the spot with a small tent stake. Then he paced it out Roman style, each passuum being a double-pace, heel strike to heel strike. It worked out very close. He broke out the PRS guitar/metal detector while Lena stood watch.

Ell also knew from his own experience that the cubit was a unit of measure that began in ancient Egypt, and persisted as a standard measure in Europe and even into early modern times. It was about 18 inches.

“Not very deeply buried,” he worried. It might have already been discovered, stolen, hidden away. But he remembered that there had been buildings on the site that had been razed, which meant that perhaps the “secret” had been originally buried under one of them. And no doubt the accumulated debris and dirt of the succeeding centuries had resulted in a far deeper burial than the coin indicated.

The sophisticated software on the iPhone, plugged into the detector, started to beep after a few sweeps of the area. The ground-penetrating radar mode was switched on, and it indicated a dark shape that appeared to be about four to five feet beneath the topsoil.

As the sun went down, the dig began. After about five and a half feet, Ell’s shovel struck what sounded like soft metal. Feverishly, he dug around the object, and freed it. He pulled a square object about the size of a small suitcase, wrapped in a lead covering out of the ground. The lead was damaged, but he could make out the inscription, “U......ficem mundum.” He immediately realized that it must have originally read, “Ut salvificem mundum.”
“To Save The World.”

He unzipped the spare nylon zippered duffel he carried for this purpose, and put the object into it, zipping it shut. Then he covered the dig, stamping the ground and covering it with loose dirt and gravel to make it unobtrusive. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he said to Lena, “Let’s get a hotel room. I have to get what’s in this to my friend Sergio as soon as possible.”

“Did you say...hotel?” asked Lena.

“Yes, I have to open this, we can’t get answers from the outside of a lead package. “And we need rest.”

“And something else.” Lena winked.

“Oh yeah, that. Maybe,” said Ell. “If I don’t have a migraine.” Lena sulked all the way to the hotel.

When they got to the room and closed the door, Ell put on music and put his finger to his lips. “Shh” he whispered to Lena. “The room is probably bugged.”

He began to cut the lead wrapping from the package. Inside was a wooden box. The lead had prevented the wood from rotting while it sat under the ground. He opened the box. Inside was a small leather wrapped scroll. The scroll was made of parchment, and it was in superb condition. Unrolling it, Ell realized its significance right away. His eyes opened wide.

“What is it?” Lena whispered.

“Lena, this is amazing. The world has searched for it for over a thousand years. This is not only a book of spells and alchemy, this is the Philosopher’s Stone.”

“But it’s a book, not stone,” she whispered back.

“Exactly,” he replied in a hushed tone. “It’s never been a stone. The legends misnamed it. It’s a book of Tones. And the right Tones will save the world.”

Ell took out his digital camera and photographed the entire scroll. Then he uploaded the pictures to a MacBook Pro he had in his backpack (he’d handed Badoshka an old one to be destroyed) created a zip file, and emailed the file to his friend Sergio. Then he carefully packed the object in its box and lead canister, and zipped them into his bag.

“If this email is opened in time,” he said softly, “we may just prevail.”

Lena smiled. “Come to bed,” she ordered.

Ell was happy to oblige.
 
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