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As I clung to the landing bar of Zanastro’s ascending helicopter, my thoughts meandered from this topic to that. I contemplated the existence of an afterlife, whether or not anyone would miss me once I was gone, and what shape my funeral might take. Manchengo was trying to shoot me with a machine gun which was bolted down to the floor of the chopper, which was laughable, because he just didn’t have the angle. Who bolts a machine gun to a helicopter? Zanastro kept on shouting: “Get him off! Get him off” - as if we were quarreling over positions on a merry-go-round. Tacky cretin. I mean, the man had a Z logo designed and painted onto the side of his helicopter. But back to my funeral: the theme would be white, purity, and ascension, echoing the manner in which I was last seen by my fellow Agents. There would be lots of linen. White lilies? Perhaps that would be too cloying, too cliché. White roses? White roses would certainly get the attention of the lads at the Agency. “What is this, a wedding?”, I can hear Franks murmuring to Dorsey. My quasi-intellectual brother would no doubt make some obscure French post-modernist epitaph of some kind. My hippy sister would most likely place seashells or beads on the casket, reading something from The Prophet, or some such rubbish. I would, of course, be wearing my Joseph Banks tweed, with the dark blue on blue Brooks Brothers tie. Certainly Maura knows me well enough by now. And if the morgue attendants knew their business, they would insure that my white gold Givenche cufflinks were showing. I looked up at my clasped hands on the landing bar and approximated the angle. Yep, they would be showing all right. But wait – Manchengo was – was it possible? – The hulking dolt was trying to climb down on the bar in order to step on my hands. Moron! Flashing my Cartier, I grabbed his pant cuff, and gave it a good solid tug. He instantly sailed down past me, wailing like a banshee. If I’d had the time I would have watched him plummet to the city below, but I had to seize the chance to storm the cockpit. Zanastro was fumbling with his gun like a caveman – was that a FLAIR gun? “Ha! You don’t even have a proper gun! What kind of mastermind are you?”, I shouted, grabbing his lapels. He began to weep. “Your real name is probably something like Josh”, I said, and gave him a head butt. I then swiftly smashed his face into the radio, and he lost consciousness. I drew my silver-coated 9mm Ressingior and touched it to the pilot’s lower skull. “Pilot, take this craft back to the docks”, I said, already wistful of the white linen.

Date Written: July 21, 2005
Author: Benny Maniacs
Average Vote: 4

07/27/2005 Dylan Danko: Is it guest month again?
07/27/2005 Klause Muppet: Happy Guest Month!!!
07/27/2005 anonymous: Don't see you contributing much these days, Mr. Bassplayer. Chicken? Huh? Bok bk-bk b-coooock!
07/27/2005 qualcomm (3.5): great mise en scene.
07/27/2005 Partytime: Naming all these tired brands indicates a lack of refinement. Get "with it" author.
07/27/2005 qualcomm: i loved the creative spelling of flare gun. that was my favorite joke, the way you spelled that. where do you come up with your ideas?
07/27/2005 The Rid (4): Like the consistent tone.
07/27/2005 Will Disney: I'm going to have to give this another read. Sometimes I have trouble concentrating on long works like this.
07/27/2005 Mr. Pony: I agree with Party Time about the déclassé brand dropping, but I think it's quite reasonable to suggest that any judgments should apply to the character, and not the author.
07/27/2005 The Rid: Affirm/Agree.
07/27/2005 Mr. Pony (4):
07/27/2005 TheBuyer: I underlike this quite a bit more than maybe I should but will remain cautiously ambiguous by not assigning a star value to it yet. I woke up this morning and realised I'd turned into a moron; your short is not helping. More about me to come later on.
07/27/2005 Dick Vomit: I find the juxtaposition of Mr. Pony's/The Rid's comments curious given my soul-baring utterances of yesterday. Also, how do I add affirm/agree to the god damned Timeline and also take credit for it?
07/27/2005 TheBuyer: What are you talking about, Dick Vomit?
07/27/2005 Mr. Pony: Dude, this is different. Sometimes it works one way, and other times the other. Don't ask me to explain. Do I look like the Master of All Reality to you?
07/27/2005 Jon Matza (4.5): This one was worth the effort it took, a rarity among concentration-taxing shorts in my opinion. Lik-a-stik 3rd graf. Jos A. Banks Clothiers for Men rulez.
07/27/2005 Dick Vomit (4): By the way, I rather liked this one. I invented Affirm/agree as a comment. Why can't I search the fucker. F. Me.
07/27/2005 TheBuyer: Sorry Dick, but I'm a frayed knot.
07/27/2005 Jawbreaker (4): Cool!
07/27/2005 Partytime (4): Nothin' but Mercedes, Italian gold, Rolex and Amex for my little girl.