SCARIEN NATION NOW BE ONE
J. EDGAR JUNIOR'S PRIVATE DICK ROUTINE
Huk's Cadillac pulled up in front of a cinder block bungalow somewhere on the outskirts of town. The grass was about two feet tall and there was garbage all over the place. It didn't look like anyone lived there.
The Scariens walked up onto the concrete slab that served as a front porch. There were noises inside. Huk leaned over, putting his ear up to the door.
An old song by the Clovers was playing faintly inside the bungalow.
"Don't you look at me," an angry voice shouted from inside.
The door swung open and a big stocky guy stood there wearing a dress. He slammed the door shut. Jabbah shrugged. The Scariens walked away shaking their heads in unison. Before they reached the car, the bungalow door opened J. Edgar Junior walked out, wearing a shiny black suit.
"You guys been here long? My twin sister was giving me a little trouble there...a minute ago."
"No problem, man. We just got here."
"Come on in."
The band walked inside, wading through hundreds of empty bottles, stacks of newspapers, boxes of files. The place was in chaos. J. Edgar sat down at his kitchen table and put a large box of corn flakes down flat on the table. He pulled out a box cutter and carefully slit the box down the center and then along each end. He folded the box open, like a big cardboard bowl. He reached down and picked up a gallon of milk that was sitting under the table and poured it over his corn flakes. Then he proceeded to eat from the box with a large wooden spoon. Jabbah broke the silence.
"You've got to help us out. We're on a kind of a secret mission to save the world and we've got this CIA clown hassling us."
"Sounds like those Bob Dobalinas are giving you a hard time."
"You know Dobalina?"
"Oh, yeah. We go way back. We were in double naught spy school together. Bob graduated at the top of the class. I flunked out. That's when they cloned a whole bunch of them Bob Dobalinas. I think they had alien technology."
"So, they made like a clone patrol?"
"That's exactly what they did."
"So, you think you can help us?"
"Twenty two dollars a day plus lunch."
"Let's give him what he wants," Huk said, laying some cash on the table.
"You're hired Mr. Junior."
After J. Edgar's breakfast, they all split in Huk's ride over to Abie Jacob's place just to check in. They pulled up in front of the music shop just when a guy who looks like Dobalina comes running out of the door. He got into a running car that had a cardboard sign taped to the back that said "Newspaper Delivery -Frequent Stops". The car sped away.
Sensing that something wasn't right, the cats fell out of the car and hustled into the store. Everything was a shambles. Abie was laying on the floor with rolled up newspapers scattered around his twitching body.
"Here, call Manny. Use the wheel," Abie gasped as he reached up to hand Huk a glossy business card.
Abie laid on the floor groaning as the cats watched him die.
"He's dead! The CIA killed him!"
Abie's shop clerk got up off the floor from behind the counter. He staggered out from behind the counter rubbing the back of his head.
"What happened here?" Huk asked him.
"The paper boy came in here and knocked me out with a newspaper. Where's Abie?"
"He's dead. They killed him."
"Who the hell is Manny?"
The store clerk kneeled on the floor next to Manny and sobbed. He took the glossy business card from Huk and looked at it.
"Oh, Manny. He's Abie's twin brother. He's a big time producer. Movies, records, tapes, everything. Knows all the stars personally. Man, just last week he went down to some kind of an orgy at Graceland with Madonna, Hillary, Elizabeth Taylor and Michael Jackson."
Huk took charge while the other cats were freaking out about what had gone down.
"Put Abie in the trunk of my car, J. Edgar. Dusty, hold my MK-Ultra wheel and use it if anyone comes around. Jabbah, call Manny Jacobs and tell him we're coming to see him. I'll keep an eye out for Dobalina."