the haiku master's big vegas caper, pt. XI

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CHAPTER XI

"Well well well well," snarled Haikunestro, drawing a point-blank bead on yours truly with a wicked-looking raygun. "At long last, I can say with undisputed authority that this time we really meet again for the last time this time! And it's about goddamn time!!!"

Haikunestro (Front Row, Left) And His Undisciplined Goons Prepare To Face Off Against The Haiku Master (Front Row, Right) And His Staunch Allies

"Ah, Haikunestro," I said, shaking my head sadly. "Always so angry. No wonder you flunked Master Doug Henning's serenity courses."

"#%@$ Mas... #%@$ Doug Henning!!" Haikunestro screamed. "He may have caused me to repeat freshman year, but in the end I killed him! I killed them all!! Just like I'm going to kill you!!!"

Not For Nothing, But The Haiku Master Got Straight "A's" In Master Doug Henning's Serenity Courses At The Cobra Kai Haiku Order's Temple In Ancient Atlantis, And Definitely Nothing Lower Than A "C"

"Maybe so. But while you've been going off on your latest rant, you've forgotten one very important fact."

"Oh?" he asked, sneering. "And what might that be? That you're a moron?"

"No -- that you're dealing with a Master of Haikung Fu!!!"

Just like that, the heat was most definitely on! I shoved Haikunestro's arm to the left as he fired his weapon, and the lab erupted into chaos!

"This isn't over yet, you freak!" Haikunestro said... and was immediately brought low by the combined might of Ralphus and Malphus! I would have jumped in to help, but soon found myself dealing with a pack of space judo-wielding Trekkies!

"I'm gonna crack my knuckles and sheath my blaster..." one said cryptically.

"...'Cause I'd much rather punch The Haiku Master!" said another.

"Sweet Jesus! Rhyming poets!" I cried. "Alright then, you scoundrels -- let's see what you've got!"

Four of them moved in at once, and faced the full fury of the rarely used Cobra Kai maneuver known only as Ike Turner's Tough Love!!! As their shattered bodies fell before me, I looked around the lab... and man, did I ever like what I saw!

To put it bluntly, my allies were kicking ass and taking names, and Haikunestro's stooges were dropping like flies. But where was...

"H.M.!" Professor de la Groove shouted from across the room. "Haikunestro -- he's got Paulo!"

I looked to where my old friend was pointing, and he was right; my arch-enemy was holding his raygun against Paulo's head, the other arm wrapped around the champion cockfighter's throat!

Paulo Begged The Haiku Master To Not Release This Picture, But He Did Not Beg With Money

"That's right, you retards!" said Haikunestro. "One more step and the Mexican gets it!"

"Please, Hombre muy Extraño," gulped Paulo, eyes straining towards the gun barrel. "I no want to die! I told you, I just want tacos!"

"You hear that?" Haikunestro said in a mocking tone. "He just wants tacos. And if any of you mother#%@$ers takes one step near me, he's never gonna eat a taco again!!"

Not wanting Paulo's blood on my hands, I waved my bristling companions off.

"Alright, Haikunestro, alright. You win this round," I said. "But if you harm so much as a hair on that poor peasant's head, know that you'll have the Sultan of Syllables to deal with!"

"Hey!" said Paulo. "I no am peasant!"

"Save the threats for someone who can't kick your ass, dipshit," scoffed Haikunestro, as he and Paulo stepped backwards through the lab doors. "See you in the funny papers!"

With that they were gone, whisked back to the Star Trek: The Experience concession through the high-powered elevator! Naturally, I was prepared to give chase... but to what end?

Did Paulo get rescued? Was Haikunestro brought to justice? Who replaced Old Man Winter, Paulo, and Dubya when they went to 1960, and what did they do while they were there? Did Angelina Jolie and I have another amorous encounter? Would I ever check into a Motel 6: The Official Motel Chain of The Haiku Master while in Vegas? Find out the mind-blowing answers to these and other questions in the stupendous, unbelievable, insanity-inducing twelfth and final chapter of my Big Vegas Caper!!!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'THE HAIKU MASTER'S BIG VEGAS CAPER' PT. XII---

journey into mexico, pt. I

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CHAPTER I

So it was that I, The Haiku Master, found myself in Mexico following a battle with nine crazed limerickists. Injured and penniless, I had no choice but to travel the long, dangerous road back to my country, with nothing but my battle-hardened Haikung Fu to stave off any troublemakers who dared cross my path.

Mexico

As you may recall, I had awakened from a two-week black out, only to find myself buying a round of drinks in a Mexican cantina. Unfortunately for me, my new friends and the bartender, my pockets proved to be completely empty when it came time to pay the bill; a situation referred to by the locals as "sans dinero."

In a tight spot, I offered to parlay my mad haiku skillz into payment, but the bartender wasn’t having it. Nor would he accept the fine necklace of limerickist ears wound 'round my neck.

“No,” he said, rudely poking a pudgy finger into my chest. “Usted debe pagar con el dinero.”

“No hablo español,” I countered.

He sized me up, then nodded to one of his henchmen.

“Paulo,” he said. “Diga a hombre que él debe pagar con el dinero.”

“Senór,” the henchman, Paulo, said. “My boss says you must pay with money.”

The Haiku Master's Mexican Guide, Paulo

The jig was up. No hope left but to try my order’s most trusted secret -- the Haiku Master Mind Trick.

“Take me to Jabba...” I said, wiggling my fingers in front of the henchman’s face.

Paulo’s eyes glazed over. Spittle began to drool from the corner of his mouth. “I will take you to Jabba,” he said.

“...You serve your master so well...”

“I serve my master so well.”

“...You will get a raise.”

“I will get a raise.”

“I must be allowed to pay with haiku,” I said, this time to the bartender.

“He must be allowed to pay with haiku,” Paulo said, imploring his boss to be reasonable.

The bartender had heard enough, and slapped his servant hard across the face. “¡Usted es un tonto con una mente débil!” he screeched. “¡Él está utilizando uno viejos trucos de los mentos de los Amos del Haiku!”

Clearly, the language barrier was preventing my Haiku Master Mind Trick from working on the bartender, which meant it was time to fall back on the Cobra Kai Temple's weapon of last resort: good old-fashioned violence.

Twenty minutes later, Paulo and I stumbled forth from the smoking ruins of what had been a pretty choice cantina. We headed north into the night.

An Uncharitable Cantina Owner Is Forced To Ponder His Next Step Following An Ill-Fated Visit From The Haiku Master

“But senór,” Paulo said as we walked. “I still have one question.”

“Yes, grasshopper,” I replied graciously.

“Who is this Jabba? Why must I take you to Jabba?"

"That’s not important," I said. "What is important is my ravenous hunger. So, first thing’s first -- we need to track down some dinner."

---CLICK HERE FOR 'JOURNEY INTO MEXICO' PT. II---

secret origin of the haiku master

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When I tell people I am a Master of Haiku, I'm often greeted with looks of disbelief. Some even call me a jerk, though they do so with their last earthly breaths.

Make no mistake; I do not call myself The Haiku Master lightly. And here, for the first time ever, is the secret origin of why that claim is mine and mine alone to make!

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Warning: This is pretty exciting stuff, so pregnant women, people with pacemakers, and the weak-minded should probably stop reading now.
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Abandoned by my biological parents at an early age, I was raised by a grizzled sailor and his wife, having been left on their doorstep one cold and stormy evening. They say I was an average-looking swaddling babe, save for an unruly mane of cabbage where one would normally have hair.

The Haiku Master Developed His Cabbage Hair And Preference For Smoking Jackets At An Early Age

My foster father, Pappy as I called him, was a kindly man, though horrid to behold as he had but one eye, the other having been lost in a bet years earlier. My impossibly thin foster mother, Olive, was far sterner than Pappy. But it was she who discerned the power of 'ku that dwelt within my earthly vessel, and sent me at age 7 to live with the monks of the Cobra Kai Haiku Temple in ancient Atlantis.

For the next 25 years I learned the innermost secrets of my order, and in fact became one of its greatest members, if not in the top half. Once my apprenticeship was complete, I was named the Haiku Master of Earth Sector 3814, which primarily covers the Baltimore-DC area of the United States. So I set forth as countless Haiku Masters had before me, and started sharing my haiku with the masses on June 6, 2003 (having taken a year off to "bum around" following my graduation).

But shortly after I took office, disaster struck -- the relatively upstart League of Limerickists launched a full scale attack against the ancient Cobra Kai Haiku Order! Within days our ranks had been diminished to no more than a score of Haiku Masters, where there had once been thousands.

We survivors rallied at the Cobra Kai Temple... only to find we had been betrayed by one of our own! This Judas, Haikunestro as he was known, had brought the Limerickists to our most sacrosanct sanctum, and as we entered, they attacked!

Fortunately, the Cobra Kai Temple had many defenses of its own, usable only by those with untarnished 'ku power. So it was that a handful of Haiku Masters laid waste to the League of Limerickists. But the cost was heavy, for of all the Haiku Masters, only I survived.*

There you have it -- proof positive that I am the one, true Haiku Master. So if anyone else tries to pass themself off as the same, you'll know they're lying.

Best,



* Despite some ugly rumors to the contrary, I did not achieve this feat by hiding in a broom closet.