Visitation part 3

So here I was, sitting in the FEMA trailer that I call my office with the Queen of England drinking beer. She wants me to dispose of some embarrassing evidence: Bodies of uncooperative interrogatees.

I’m thinking, you can’t make this stuff up, it’s so weird.

I have no problem with the disposal request: after all, this is my job – I don’t let thoughts of morality or justice cloud my thinking. Something needs to be transitioned into another state of matter. I am like the wind: I just do what I am supposed to do. Like the scorpion, whose nature it is to sting, It is my nature bury things that need to be out-of-sight.

Mrs. Windsor, as she called herself, was on her third beer, when the door to the trailer opened. One of her bodyguards stuck his head in the opening.

“Sorry Mrs. W, I got some guys out here say they work here,” he pointed with his thumb. “Want us to keep them out here till you're done?”

“Oh dear, no, no, no. I want to meet them.” She took a last pull on her beer and swish-shotted the empty into the waste can.

“Hey!” I yelled. “We recycle those!” I pointed to the blue recycle bin, clearly labeled “Bottles and Cans.”

“Oops, sorry dude, “ she gave me a brief little smile to acknowledge the validity of my reproof. Then she went to the waste can retrieved the empty bottle and placed it ceremoniously in the blue bin as she let out a fair and regal belch.. She’s tipsy, I thought to myself.

As usual, Clooney was first in the door. “What the f*ck’s going on here?” he demanded, “Limo’s, body guards, they searched me, and, took my gun. “ He was scowling at the bodyguard. The guard shrugged. “Don’t worry mate, you’ll get it back.”

The queen approached to greet him, “And this must be Vernon – the one you call Lardass (hee hee) in the blog. I’m so pleased to meet you.”

“No this is Clooney.” I smiled at Clooney’s annoyance about the identity mixup.

“Clooney, meet the queen.”

Being from New York, Clooney takes nothing at face value. He looked her over with the eye of a skeptic. “I’m not sure what is going on here,” he said to me, “but it feels like some type of Bill-inspired practical joke..”

Bill was now entering the office looking considerably less annoyed. (Bill once confided to me that he loves being searched by strangers. He often goes to the airport with a silver quarter secreted in his ass crack, just so he will set off the metal detector. Thus, he is inevitably subjected to a more 'personal' inspection.....But I digress.)

Bill looked at the queen, and then the empties in the recycle bin. “You guys are drinking beer! No one told me about the party,” he said with overtones of whine.

“No, Clooney it’s not a joke. It’s the real deal.” I smiled at him with Cheshire undertones.

“She has a job for us.” I explained the salient features of the deal.

“How do you know it’s the real queen? Did you check her ID?” he eyed her suspiciously. “She could be one of those celebrity look-a-likes you know.”

She was amused.. "Allow me to settle the issue. " She had her cell phone in her hand and pressed a button. “Rodney, would you be so kind as to bring our credentials into the trailer?” Then she clicked off, and spoke to Clooney. “I believe that this will convince you of our authenticity.”

As I pondered whether she was she was employing the royal “our” – my reverie was interrupted by the entrance of a tall man, whom I assumed to be Rodney, carrying a bulky lawyer's briefcase.

“Over there..” she pointed to the reclaimed dining room table at the far end of the room that holds the coffee machine. Rodney went to the table and dumped the contents – packets of crisp greenback $100 notes – in a large pile in the center of the table.

No one spoke for a while. Then one by one, each of the dumpf*cks took turns going to the table, fanning the stacks of bills and nodding that the currency was real.

When it was his turn, Clooney turned sharply to face the queen, Clicked his heels like a Prussian military officer and bowed from the waist. “Your majesty.” He acknowledged.

================================================