one if bin laden, two if haiku, pt. VI

***
CHAPTER VI

"And now, you non-rhyming infidel poet," said bin Laden, about to use his scimitar to slice one of the ropes keeping me and the net below from tumbling into the lava, "it's time for you to..."

"HAIKU-YA!" cried Haiku Girl, unexpectedly bursting into the lava room through a hidden door! "Forget it, bin La-dumb! Nobody cooks The Haiku Master on my watch!"

A strange light emanated from H.G.'s funky ring, striking bin Laden and his posse...and they horrificly morphed into swine with human heads!

Thanks To Haiku Girl's Magic Ring, The OBL Posse Learned The True Meaning Of 'Unclean'

"That's for trying to take over Purgatory Coffee!" she shouted as the bin Laden pigs ran squealing from the room. "Next time, you'd better leave that nice girl Heather alone -- she's a friend of mine!"

"So much worse than -- OINK! -- bacon! So much worse than bacon!" bin Laden grunted back. "You have earned my -- OINK! OINK! -- eternal indemnity, Haiku Girl!"

"Nice work, H.G. -- you're getting a raise for this!" I said, amazed. "But, uh, do you think you could use that magic ring of yours to whisk me off this net? My fine mane of cabbage hair is starting to wilt!"

"Zoiks!!" she said. Then, waving her ring: "Alacazoo, Alacazedge, put The Haiku Master on this ledge!"

ZAP! Just like that I was standing next to her, and we high-fived in triumph! "Come on!" I said. "Let's get out of here before anything else crazy happens!"

"Right behind you, H.M.!"

We were topside within minutes. Well, within minutes after I stopped at a rather dilapidated vending machine to buy a pack of Hostess Snack Cakes -- the Official Snack Cake of Professional Crimefighters!

Before we jumped into her car, though, Haiku Girl stopped outside the warehouse and waved that kooky magic ring of hers again.

"Hold on, H.M.!" she said. "I want to make sure this warehouse poses no further threat to the good people of Minneapolis!"

A green bolt of magic energy burst forth from the ring, and the warehouse exploded!

Bin Laden's Hideout, Post Haiku Girl

"Sweet Jesus, H.G.!" I said. "You could really put someone's eye out with that thing!"

Suddenly, a short little man in a ten-gallon hat came running towards us, a furious look on his face.

"Dagnabbit, what do you meddling kids think you're doing?" he shouted. "That's my building -- you'd better be prepared to pay for this!"

Haiku Girl and I looked at each other, laughing uncontrollably. I mean, really! Crimefighters? Pay for property damage? Whoever heard of such a thing!? Maybe on Bizarro World...but not here on good ol' Mother Earth, folks!

***
EPILOGUE

So that, loyal readers, was that. OBL and his crew may have escaped, but in their new pig bodies they no longer posed an immediate threat to the fine coffee houses of the Minneapolis-St. Paul area. Which meant my latest thrilling adventure was coming to an end!

After an afternoon spent taking in art galleries and dining on local delicacies, Haiku Girl dropped me off at Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport, where another 747 would return me to my top secret base of operations in the Baltimore suburbs.

"I guess this is it, H.G.," I said. "Have you given any more thought to my sidekick offer?"

"Oh, I don't know," she said. "I've been doing all right on my own -- heck, I'm just weeks away from single-handedly wiping out all crime in Minneapolis! After that, who knows. Maybe Seattle, maybe Philadelphia. We'll see."

"Well if it makes any difference, know that the one and only Sultan of Syllables thinks the East Coast needs you more than those flakey hippies on the West! Until we meet again, Haiku Girl!"

"Until we meet again, Haiku Master!" she replied, waving as she pulled away from the terminal.

My heart heavy with the sorrow of parting -- which, I might add, is never sweet, despite what that Shakespeare fraud might say to the contrary! -- I headed inside to await my flight at the nearest overpriced airport tavern. But as the barkeep poured the first of what would be many flight relaxants, my spirits were buoyed with the knowledge that I was not alone in my tireless quest to fight crime and spread haiku...and that Haiku Girl and The Haiku Master would no doubt meet again in the future!

Not to mention the Hostess Snack Cakes, which I discovered in my smoking jacket pocket after beer number five.

Hostess: The Only Snack Cake Endorsed By The Haiku Master

As always, those things really hit the spot! So sayeth I...The Haiku Master!

one if bin laden, two if haiku, pt. V

***
CHAPTER V

Upon our arrival at Osama bin Laden's warehouse hideout in downtown Minneapolis, Haiku Girl and I prepared to leap into action!

Despite The Clever Subterfuge, The Haiku Master & Haiku Girl Did Indeed Find Bin Laden Hiding In This Abandoned Warehouse

"Okay, H.G., this is it," I said, slinging a knapsack full of bacon over my shoulder. "Let's synchronize watches. I've got 7:18 -- you?"

"6:19 on my end, H.M."

"What the -- one of us is wa-a-a-a-ay off, and I don't think it's my trusty Timex! Let's bring it up to speed, kid."

"But H.M.!" she said. "Your watch is probably still set to Baltimore time. Minneapolis is an hour behind the east coast, remember?"

"What kind of crazy time-travel nonsense are you blabbering about, H.G.? Now stop goofing around -- I'm beginning to have second thoughts about my sidekick offer!"

The time issue settled, H.G. and I approached the warehouse's front door. Opting for the direct approach, I knocked loudly three times.

"Who is it?" a voice asked from within.

"Koran-Gram, mate" I said, affecting a perfect Australian accent. "All praise to Allah."

"Koran-Gram? We didn't order a Koran-Gram."

"That is correct. This Koran-Gram is a most blessed gift from the Saudi royal family!"

"Ahh, why didn't you say so!" said the voice. "Let me get the door..."

Turning slightly, I gave Haiku Girl a double thumb's up, and the warehouse's entrance opened. The man on the other side peeked through -- and was hit squarely in the face by a wet piece of bacon thrown with Marino-esque precision by my partner!

"Gah!" he cried, clutching madly at the offending meat product. "Not again!"

"Again and again and again if necessary!" I barked, shoving a piece of bacon into the punk's mouth. "How do you like the taste of that, huh? Infidel-icious, no?"

"Blearghhhhh!!!" he screamed through the bacon, running forward blindly into the street...where he was promptly crushed by a passing bus!

"Nice start," I said to Haiku Girl, "but now it's time to end this mad game of coffee house terror once and for all!"

"Right on, H.M.! Haiku powers -- activate!"

"Man, that is one kick-ass battlecry!" I said in appreciation. "I should think about trading up. But in the meantime -- Hiyo, Haiku!"

H.G. behind me, I stormed into the warehouse...only to hit a trap door three steps in! After a long slide I was spat out onto a frayed net, which in turn was overhanging a lava pit!

Thanks To His Brash Actions, The Haiku Master Soon Found Himself Suspended Over A Lava Pit, Much Like This One From Temple Of Doom

"For #%$@'s sake!" I cursed. "I am really looking like an amateur on this case!"

"Of course you are!" cried a voice. "All infidels are amateurs before the divine eyes of Allah!"

I turned to look -- and saw bin Laden and his remaining crew on a ledge 20' away! I then realized I'd lost my knapsack of bacon during the tumble, and was now defenseless in the face of Islam's most notorious outlaw!

"Oh," I said. "So that's how you want to play it, huh? Do you expect me to be scared, bin Laden?"

"No, Mr. Haiku Master," he said, holding a scimitar over one of two frail ropes that attached the net to the chamber's far wall. "In the immortal words of my close, personal friend, Auric Goldfinger...'I expect you to die!!'"

Well, I certainly don't see any way out of this, loyal readers. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion, in which I shall no doubt meet a horrible end!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'ONE IF BIN LADEN, TWO IF HAIKU' PT. VI---

one if bin laden, two if haiku, pt. IV

***
CHAPTER IV

I was still reeling from the discovery of another haiku-powered crimefighter, but there was no time to dwell on it -- if we didn't act now, Osama bin Laden would soon have his picture on every cup of coffee sold in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area!

Despite Being Driven Out Of Purgatory Coffee, Osama Bin Laden Clung To His Twisted Plan Of Coffee House Domination

In a solid display of lightning-quick thinking, my new ally had thrown a self-attaching sensor onto bin Laden's back when he and his bacon-covered posse fled Purgatory Coffee. Using H.G.'s sophisticated computer equipment, we soon had him pinpointed at a deserted warehouse in downtown Minneapolis...but what good was I going to be against a crew that had soundly defeated me in our first go-round?

"I just don't know how we're going to stop him, Haiku Girl!" I said. "You saw what happened at the coffee shop; my Haikung Fu is no match for that bizarre 'camel fu' used by bin Laden and his boys!"

"No sweat!" she said, holding up two fistfuls of greasy raw bacon. "Or did you forget that bacon's like vampire garlic for Islamic fundamentalists?"

"Oh yeah! Bacon..."

"Besides which," she added, "this funky ring of mine gives me all sorts of magic powers. Got it from a haiku-addicted fairy named Aldolpholus P. Funpockets."

"Good show, H.G. -- I like the cut of your jib! What would you say to a job as my sidekick?"

"Mmm, I don't know. What's the pay?"

"We'll discuss that later. Right now, we've got a super-villain to catch! Quick! To the...er. Do you have a sweet ride? I left the Blue Raja back in Baltimore."

"Of course I have a sweet ride -- I'm a professional crimefighter! Let's go!"

"Great. But I'm driving!"

"All right..." Then, to Kuey the Giant Intelligent Crimefighting Pigeon: "Kuey, stay here and watch the house! I'll be back soon!"

So off we went, and in short order arrived at our destination! According to H.G.'s laptop, bin Laden was still inside...which meant it was time for us to kick out the jams!!!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'ONE IF BIN LADEN, TWO IF HAIKU' PT. V---

one if bin laden, two if haiku, pt. III

***
CHAPTER III

As always, unconsciousness was relaxing...but alas, it was not to last! Before long, I was swimming back to the light, called by the sound of someone nearby.

"'Ku!" they said, softly poking my face with something sharp, cold, and hard. "'Ku! 'Ku!"

"Not right now," I replied sleepily. "Daddy needs his beauty rest..."

"Kuey!" came a second voice, this one somewhat familiar. "Get away from there; you're going to wake him up!"

"If that was the scoundrel's intent, they have succeeded!" I said, opening my eyes at last...only to find myself face-to-face with the largest pigeon the Sultan of Syllables had ever come across!

Kuey The Giant Intelligent Crimefighting Pigeon

"Sweet Merciful Odin!" I cried, throwing my hands in front of my face. "The birds! The birds!!"

And then, she jumped to my aid again! That's right -- the pink-clad crimefighter who had previously rescued me from certain death at the hands of Osama bin Laden!

"Kuey, leave him alone!" she said, shoving the pigeon away from me. "Sorry about this, mister. She won't hurt you. Just, uh, overly friendly sometimes."

"G-gah-gah, you're swell," I stammered. "I m-mean, that's all right. After all, you really saved my bacon earlier...with bacon, no less! The least I can do is let your giant mutant pigeon nuzzle me."

"Oh, Kuey's not a mutant," my benefactor said. "She's from Seattle -- they're all this big and smart there."

"Really!" I said, flabbergasted. Then to my always-handy mini-tape recorder, I whispered, "Note to self: bring extra breadcrumbs when visiting Seattle."

Finally, I took in my surroundings. I appeared to be in some kind of high-tech crimefighting headquarters not unlike my own, with loads of computer equipment, villain trophies, extra costumes, vending machines, art projects, and the like filling up the vast space.

As for yours truly, I was sprawled out on a big, comfy couch. Swinging my legs onto the floor, I raised myself to a standing position and took my new friend's hand.

"Whoever you are, you have earned the undying gratitude of the one, true Haiku Master for your earlier brave deeds!" I said. "From one costumed crimefighter to another -- SA-LUTE!"

"Haiku Master?" she said. "Did you say 'Haiku Master?'"

"Yes," I said. "Is that a problem? Wait -- you're not a Limerickist, are you?"

"No, far from it. As a matter of fact, around these parts they call me...Haiku Girl!"

Haiku Girl, huh? Well smother me with barbeque sauce and throw me on the Foreman, 'cause this adventure just got that much hotter!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'ONE IF BIN LADEN, TWO IF HAIKU' PT. IV---

one if bin laden, two if haiku, pt. II

***
CHAPTER II

After bin Laden issued his challenge, the store's clerk, Heather, did the wise thing and ducked below the counter for safety. Purgatory's other patrons took similar actions...but such easy roads are not traveled by the one true Sultan of Syllables!

My heart was beating like an alligator as I turned to face the OBL posse. "All right, bin Laden! You want a fight? You got one! Prepare to face...my Deadly Hands of Haikung Fu!!!"

I leapt forward with the feared Cobra Kai technique referred to as the Kirk Foot Lunge, but soon realized I was hopelessly outmatched! These wiry bastards employed some kind of bizarre "camel fu" I'd not previously encountered, and had no problem in landing one hump-like blow after another on my increasingly sore noggin!

Within minutes, they had beaten me to the ground! Me -- The Haiku Master! Can you believe it? 'Cause I still can't! But there I was, blood pouring from my nose, my ascot astray...and bin Laden pointing his Afghan war revolver straight at my face!!

"Give thanks and praise, you cabbage-headed infidel!" bin Laden said. "For now, I send you to whatever paradise you believe--"

"HAIKU-YA!!!" cried a new voice.

I can't properly describe what happened next, loyal readers. I saw a blur of pink, and a galosh-wearing foot kicked the gun from bin Laden's hand! Then, more bacon than I've ever seen began to fly through the air -- fat, greasy slices of uncooked ham, cascading down on the heads and shoulders of the OBL posse!

Bacon Is To Islamic Fundamentalists As Garlic Is To Vampires

"Sweet Mother of Mohammed!" one of them shouted.

"The infidels have cursed us!" spat another, who looked suspiciously like Sesame Street's Bert.

"Gah!" said bin Laden in disgust. "We are unclean! Unclean! Quickly, we must retreat -- to the bin Laden-mobile!"

Kevin Bacon, On The Other Hand, Pisses Off Fundamentalists Of All Faiths With That Sinful Footloose Dancing Of His

Just like that, bin Laden and his men were gone, giving me a chance to get a good look at my rescuer -- and it was a she!

This valkyrie was wearing a sassy pink top with "HG" emblazoned across the front, a fuzzy white cape and matching mask, black leather skirt, and the most stupendous galoshes I'd ever seen. Her fabulous outfit was topped off by a pair of perky pigtails and pink, Audrey Hepburn-style sunglasses. She moved towards me with a worried look on her face, and I noticed an incredibly funky ring flashing on her right hand.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

I never got the chance to answer, for at that point my world went black.

Which is a fancy way of saying, "me went nappy-time." In case you were confused.

---CLICK HERE FOR 'ONE IF BIN LADEN, TWO IF HAIKU' PT. III---

one if bin laden, two if haiku, pt. I

Click For Larger Image

***
CHAPTER I

Greetings, friends. It is I, The Haiku Master -- beckoning you with another tale of real-life HIGH ADVENTURE!!!

For years, the world’s -- well, the Western world’s -- intelligence agencies have been tirelessly hunting the most infamous of super-villains, Osama bin Laden. But now, with the help of my crack support staff, I’ve tracked him to the one place no sane person would ever think to look: Minneapolis, MN!

That’s right -- not the City of Caves, nor the City of Deserts, nor even the City of Turbans, but the City of Lakes! Could that fiend be any more diabolical???

Regardless, a 747 bearing yours truly was soon touching down at Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport. After signing the inevitable round of autographs for a throng of waiting fans, I was whisked away via taxi to the local Motel 6; the Official Motel Chain of The Haiku Master.

Motel 6: The Only Motel Chain Endorsed By The Haiku Master

Then, the real work started. Phone in one hand and a stiff glass of George Dickel No. 12 in the other, I started calling some local contacts: cops, pimps, hustlers, street preachers, and even an unusually trustworthy hotdog vendor. But no luck -- if Osama was in town, they hadn't seen him.

Feeling defeated, I pulled a fresh smoking jacket and ascot from my luggage, and hit the streets to clear my head. Not knowing where else to go, I decided to try a nearby coffee house recommended by my close, personal friend -- and Minneapolis native -- Prince: Purgatory Coffee.

Once there, I could see why P (as his close, personal friends call him) gave Purgatory his Royal Seal of Approval; it was truly the finest coffee shop I'd ever seen! Inside was even better -- especially when my eyes got to the cutie pie working the counter!

"Hi!" she said. Heather, according to her name tag. "Can I help you?"

"Ah-gah-gah-gah," I said, tongue firmly tied as it always is in the presence of pretty girls. "G-gah-gah!"

Fortunately, I was saved from further self-embarrassment...for at that very moment, the nefarious Osama bin Laden himself stormed into the coffee shop, followed by an entourage of would-be tough guys in slick leather turbans!

"All praise to Allah!" he shouted. "I claim this infidel house of coffee worship in the name of my people's glorious battle against the Great Satan! Henceforth, it shall be known as 'Paradise Coffee!'

"Now, all you infidels, get out of my place and spread the word: Osama bin Laden shall take control of every coffee house in the Minneapolis-St. Paul area if your President does not call for an immediate surrender to the holy forces of Islam!"

If Osama Bin Laden Has His Way, Every Cup Of Coffee Sold In The Minneapolis-St. Paul Area Will Bear His Image

Looks like things are about to get down and dirty -- or my name's not The Haiku Master!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'ONE IF BIN LADEN, TWO IF HAIKU' PT. II---

old man winter must die

Face front, 'ku believers! Do it now! Pronto! I, The Haiku Master, am in no mood for tomfoolery tonight! For I've spent the whole day battling Old Man Winter -- and I'm not speaking figuratively!

Old Man Winter Demonstrates His Deadly Sub-Zero Breath

He woke me early this morning, apparently using the spare key from 'neath my welcome mat to gain entrance to my top secret base of operations. Once inside, he started to cause a real ruckus: throwing my records around, knocking over an end table, even upturning the trashcan!

Fortunately, my advanced Haiku Master hearing works even in repose, and I pounced from my bed in a powerful fighting stance! Rushing into the hallway, I saw O.M.W. flee into the kitchen, and chased him down like the rat he was!

"Hello, H.M.," he said smugly, helping himself to a fresh box of Samoans. "Don't mind if I just...chill out here? Do you?"

I'd heard enough. "Why you frostbitten old fraud!" I bellowed. "What's the big idea, busting into my place at eleven-thirty and making a mess? I'll make you fill your Depends for this effrontery!"

"That's it, momma's boy!" he cried, dumping the Samoans onto the kitchen floor. "It is on!"

On it was, the two of us going at it like a couple of brain-damaged billygoats: O.M.W.'s witchy winter powers against my Cobra Kai Haikung Fu! We fought tooth and nail for six straight hours, and finally, with my last bit of strength, I sent my opponent flying out the front door with a well-placed Crane Kick to the ass!

"And don't come back, you dog!" I added for good measure.

As I watched Old Man Winter scurry down the street, I knew in my heart of hearts he'd return, and would eventually have to be dealt with in a more permanent manner. But that will have to wait for another time...for my sources tell me that the world's leading super-villain, Osama bin Laden himself, has been spotted in Minneapolis, MN!

The Sultan of Syllables has been tracking that creep for a long time, friends, and it looks like I'll finally get my chance to bring him to justice! Plus, it'll give me a chance to check up on these juicy tabloid rumors about a City of Lakes-based crimefighter who's been using the moniker "Haiku Girl."

If nothing else, I understand you can get a world-class cup of java at Purgatory Coffee. We'll see!

Best,