it's fun to stay at the ymca

***
‘XENU AND ME,’ CHAPTER VII

Greetings, adventure seekers! It's me, The Haiku Master, just chilling at a Baltimore-area YMCA following my escape from the clutches of Scientology. And let me tell you, the "Y" isn't just a great place to stay when you're on the lam -- it's also a great place to meet exciting, on-the-go people!

The Haiku Master (Far Right) Hanging Out With His New Friends At The YMCA

That's right! Why, in the past day alone I've made the acquaintance of a police officer, a soldier, a construction worker, a motorcycle enthusiast, a cowboy, and a Native American Indian! Not to mention a wild-eyed morphine addict, a slovenly immigrant family, and more stumble-drunks than one could reasonably be expected to shake a stick at!

Talk about experiencing different cultures -- living here is like going to Epcot, only without the long lines! Unless you count the one outside the building's sole bathroom. Still, it's a pretty sweet deal!

Okay for now, friends; time for the Pharaoh of 5-7-5 to join the aforementioned bathroom line. I don't really have to go right now, but by the time it'll be my turn, who knows?

---CLICK HERE FOR 'XENU AND ME' PT. VIII---

free at last

***
‘XENU AND ME,’ CHAPTER VI

Rejoice, 'ku believers! It's me -- the real me -- The Haiku Master, back with an extremely important message: avoid the so-called "Church" of Scientology at all cost!! Your life and/or sanity may very well depend on it!

As for me, I just escaped from one of their fiendish "intensive auditing" camps. After a daring getaway, I returned to my top secret base of operations... only to find it compromised by a cheap robot version of yours truly! No trouble there, though. Stealing a page from ol' Captain Kirk's playbook, I busted out some spurious logic and totally fried the tin-plated bastard's brain in seconds flat!

The Haiku Master Learned How To Short-Circuit Robots By Watching Star Trek Reruns

Alas, even with the dastardly Haiku-Bot out of the picture, my longtime HQ is no longer secure. So I'm putting it up for sale, and am officially in the market for a new top secret base of operations in the Baltimore suburbs! In the meantime, I'll be laying low at a safe house (read: room at an undisclosed YMCA--ed.). But don't worry: my trusty TRS-80 SuperMobile Computer is in my possession, so I'll be able to stay in touch while I'm "underground!"

Okay for now, fan club members -- time for the Sultan of Syllables to wolf down a sausage pizza and pint of whiskey before making his nightly patrol. Be sure to heed my warning about those kooky Scientologists! I'd hate to hear about any of you being replaced by low-rent 'droids with bad comma-use programs. You deserve better!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'XENU AND ME' PT. VII---
----------------------
P.S. Want to read what some former Scientologists have to say about Hubbard's cult? Visit www.xenu.net today!

P.P.S. Please disregard the last three posts, as they were all made or altered by the Haiku-Bot. I'd delete them, but crimefighting and haiku writing don't leave much free time for learning advanced computerology.

tom cruise is cool and he is my friend

***
‘XENU AND ME,’ CHAPTER V

Hello truth, seekers. I am, the Mr. Haiku Master and tonight I, want to tell you, about my close personal, friend Mr. World Famous Movie Star Tom Cruise.

The New, Improved Haiku Master And Matinee Idol Tom Cruise Wow Passers-by At A Scientology Center

Yes that, Mr. Tom Cruise. The star of The Firm Top, Gun Rain, Man Cocktail and many. Others. I the, Hero of Haiku will even, be the best, man when he marries my other close personal, friend Ms. Katie, Holmes. Take it from me they, hump like rabbits all the time and they, are like lust-crazed Olympian gods in the sack you, can believe that.

Also I, would like to say that Mr. Tom Cruise is the, coolest dude currently, on earth. He is, not as cool as Commodore, Hubbard of course but, he comes pretty. Close. You should go see, his new movie! It is, called War of the Worlds and, Mr. Tom Cruise fights aliens, in it something, he is very well prepared for.

You, should also see Ms. Katie, Holmes' new movie Batman, Begins. It is, about a man who eschews, the lies of psychiatry and, finds the super human, within. Just like me and, my friends in Scientology! That is why, we are so happy like, Mr. Batman!

Time, for me to go I have, a lot of crimefighting, to do tonight. Good thing, I have Scientology and, my friendship with, Mr. Tom Cruise to keep, me safe. You, should look into Scientology! You will, be so, happy you will not believe, it! Visit us at, www.scientology.org, today okay! That's what, I say! I am... the Mr. Haiku Master!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'XENU AND ME' PT. VI---

need an assist?

***
‘XENU AND ME,’ CHAPTER IV

Hello, there. It is me, Mr. The Haiku Master, here to help you feel, good about yourself. Me, and my friends at, the Church of Scientology.

The Haiku Master Hasn't Been Replaced By A Robot; He's Been Blessed With Metal Skin By Scientology!

Sorry if, my last post was, sloppy. I was, in a rush.

So, hey, do you, like my new look? My skin is now, made of metal, all thanks to Commodore Hubbard's amazing, teachings. I am, also, happier than I've ever, been before.

You could be, this happy too. You could even, get metal skin. If you join me, in studying Scientology that, is. Call, today!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'XENU AND ME' PT. V---

scientology is evil double-plus good

***
‘XENU AND ME,’ CHAPTER III

Greetings friends, it is I, The Haiku Master -- bringing you a dire warning about the insidious Church of Scientology! and man, am I ever happy!

The Haiku Master's Scientology Caseworker, Mr. Sunshine: A Lying Sack Of Scientolo-shit

As it turns out, Scientology isn't a the greatest church of at all time... it's some kind of weird cult! Shocking, I know -- but all too real!! This revelation came to me earlier today, during my "auditing" session with my "caseworker," Mr. Sunshine. There I was, strapped to the E-meter, clear of "engrams" and moving on to "OTIII" -- and down a cool 100 grand I could ill-afford -- when the Sultan of Syllables had a mighty load of bullshit deposited upon him! -- when I realized Scientology truly was the road to success!

"So you're telling me," I said, stunned by what Sunshine had just said, "that the big secret behind Scientology involves nuclear bombs, volcano prisons in Hawaii, disembodied spirits from outer space, and an intergalactic overlord named Xenu?!"

"Ah-ah-ah-ah -- H-bombs," Sunshine admonished. "But uh, yeah. Outside of that, you pretty much got it."

"You son of a bitch!" I growled, incensed. "I've given you people tens of thousands of dollars, plus the credibility of my official endorsement, and this is thanks you give me? The hogwashing of a lifetime?!"

"It's no hogwash," Sunshine assured me. "It's all gospel truth, as laid out by Commodore Hubbard himself. Furthermore, your reaction is quite common. Why, many of our members become distressed when they first..."

"When they first what? When they first realize they've been ripped off?" I spat, fuming. "Put up your dukes, you...you...you hornswaggler! I'm gonna knock your #%@$ing teeth out!!"

"Oh?" said Sunshine, giggling. "Well, you could do that."

"You're damn right I could!"

"Of course you could! Then again, some of our friends in the press could find out about your predilection for rough man-on-man sex! How about that?"

"Rough man-on-man... what the hell are you talking about? I don't even have fantasies about convincing female sex changes, much less actual dudes! Now put up your dukes!"

"What?" Sunshine gasped, flipping through the large Rolodex on his desk. "Oh, sorry, I was looking at Travolta's file. Ah, here we go -- then perhaps the press could find out about your predilection for whiskey and snack cakes!"

"Hate to burst your bubble, but those hobbies are already well publicized."

"Damn it! Well, what about that embarrassing brass knuckle arrest, hmm? Wouldn't want that getting out, now would you?"

"You mean the one I bragged about on Letterman?"

"Christ almighty! Do you keep nothing secret about your personal life?!"

"Just one small thing, you blackguard -- the secret of my Haikung Fu!" I lunged forward with the Cobra Kai technique referred to as Miss Mary Mack, driven by the righteous fury of an enlightened mark! Sunshine proved to be no match, and was soon dangling out his office window, my hands 'round his sweaty ankles!

"Alright, Sunshine, here's a new belief system for you: either I get my money back, or you become street pizza du jour!" Sunshine gave up the combination to his office safe, and I was shortly on my way with every stolen cent accounted for... plus a little something extra for my grief!

So that's that as far as the Pharaoh of 5-7-5 and Scientology go, and not a moment too soon! It's just as well, for I've never been a fan of religion. Or opiates for that matter. But that's not the point. The point is, there's no organization on earth that can absorb me -- The Haiku Master!

Plus, Scientology taught me how to grow awesome metal skin, making me a better crimefighter than ever before! Isn't that Hubbard-iffic?!

The Haiku Master's Cool New Look Is All Thanks To The Church Of Scientology

Alrighty for now, rhyme fans! Time for the one true Hero of Haiku to hit the books! Be sure to visit www.scientology.org to learn more about this great religion!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'XENU AND ME' PT. IV---

thank you, dr. hubbard

***
‘XENU AND ME,’ CHAPTER II

Shalom, 'ku believers! It's me, The Haiku Master, still buzzing over my newfound belief in the Official Religion of High-Profile Celebrities, Scientology!

The Haiku Master Answers Tough Questions During A Rigorous E-Meter Session

I'm proving to be a real natural when it comes to digesting the church's tenets, and as a result, I've been flying through my "pre-clear" levels with the greatest of ease! In fact my case worker, Mr. Sunshine, tells me I should be free of "engrams" by next week, and ready to tackle the challenge of becoming of an "operating thetan" shortly thereafter!

Assuming I can afford to pay for the required coursework, that is. I may have to take out a mortgage on my top secret base of operations to do so, but I'm sure it'll be worth it!

After all, I'm now more malleable and willing to go with the flow than ever before -- important qualities in these overstressed times. Plus, I have an overwhelming sense of blissful dizziness that just can't be found at the bottom of a whiskey jug! Then there's the knowledge factor. For example, I now know that I've lived for 74 trillion years through countless incarnations, including one as an oft-attacked clam! Try finding that out from one of those other religions!

Okay for now; time for me to start on Commodore Hubbard's next lecture series. In the meantime, if you have any extra money lying around, why not donate it to Scientology? I'm sure they'll put it to good use.

---CLICK HERE FOR 'XENU AND ME' PT. III---

i'm a believer

Click For Larger Image

***
‘XENU AND ME,’ CHAPTER I

Peace unto you, friends. Sorry about the nearly week-long gap since my last post, but I, The Haiku Master, just had a life-changing experience -- I've joined the one-and-only Church of Scientology!

The Haiku Master's Lord And Savior, L. Ron Hubbard

It was really only a matter of time before a noted crimefighter like yours truly teamed with the celebrity's religion of choice. Now, after a week of strenuous "auditing," I'm a member in good standing! That's right! Me, the Sultan of Syllables, rubbing shoulders with such luminaries as Chick Corea, Kirstie Alley, and Danny Masterson, not to mention Hollywood heavyweights Tom Cruise and John Travolta! Can you believe it?!

My one concern is the frantic rate at which my new spiritual leaders pass the collection plate. In fact, my petty cash reserves are bone dry after just five sessions with my "case worker!" Still and all, it seems to be well worth the cost; I've never felt more disoriented in my life! And that's coming from a man who once drank a gallon jug of Rebel Yell whiskey while riding the teacups at Disney World!

Okay for now -- I'm off to read L. Ron Hubbard's ecumenical treatise, Dianetics, in preparation for next week's coursework. Plenty of updates to come as my spiritual journey continues, I'm sure!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'XENU AND ME' PT. II---

pope john paul II, master of breakdancing: rest in peace

Rejoice 'ku believers, for I, The Haiku Master, am more or less free of the grasp of the insidious video game which has sapped my strength and attention for the past week-plus! Now, stop rejoicing and start mourning -- 'cause my close, personal friend Pope John Paul II has said his last Hail Mary!!

This is truly a devastating loss, loyal readers. For The Deuce (as his close, personal friends called him) was more than just the frontman for the Holy Roman Catholic Empire... he was also Earth's foremost authority on the ancient art of breakdancing! In fact, many experts credit The Deuce's sublime breakdancing abilities with toppling communism, whatever that means.

The Haiku Master Once Got To Audit A Class At Pope John Paul II's Top Secret Breakdancing Dojo

Many tried, but none were ever able to match his mad skillz on the cardboard mat. With him gone, entire generations of future breakdancers will go without seeing firsthand The Deuce's gravity-defying headspin, and they will be poorer for it!

Okay, I'm off to bash out the long-awaited third chapter in "Drunk in the Heart of Texas." Try to stay out of trouble until then.

Best,

no more easters

Greetings, loyal readers. Looking for the next installment in "Drunk in the Heart of Texas?" Check back later, for I, The Haiku Master, am in no mood to entertain tonight.

For starters, my body is currently wracked by some kind of bizarre viral infection, leaving me lethargic and light-headed. It's probably the flu, but I'm a haikuist, dammit, not a doctor.

What really has the Pharaoh of 5-7-5 bothered, though, is this Easter phenomenon.

I mean, what gives? The free candy is all well and good, but isn't anyone else a little unnerved by the whole undead messiah thing? And how does the egg-laying rabbit factor into the mix? Is it supposed to be Zombie Jesus's sidekick or something? Why does it encourage humans to eat its children before they even hatch? Finally, why does it mate with human females, as indicated by this picture?

Is This Unidentified Woman The One Who Actually Lays The Easter Eggs?

I mean, shit -- the government massacred the Branch Davidians over less weirdness than this. What are my tax dollars paying for, anyway? Let's put these sinister Easter cultists behind bars and throw away the key, before someone gets hurt. So sayeth I -- The Haiku Master!

Best,

thank you, st. matthew's churches

Shalom, 'ku believers! It's me, The Haiku Master...and I've been doubly blessed by Jesus and the good folks at Tulsa, OK's St. Matthew's Churches!

It all started earlier today. I was going through my mail after returning from Florida, and there, amidst the usual fan letters and bills, was this singular envelope:

This Envelope Brought A Wealth Of Good Fortune To The Haiku Master

As you can imagine, I was one excited Haiku Master! Panting, I tore the envelope asunder...and found a veritable treasure trove waiting inside!

Tulsa, OK's St. Matthew's Churches Sent These Religious Artifacts To The Haiku Master...For Free!

The first document I looked at was a double-sided flyer detailing the many fantastic prizes won by previous recipients of St. Matthew's Churches' Jesus voodoo, including this woman, who was "blessed with $46,000.00 after using prayer rug...":

This Lady Netted A Cool $46K During Her Brief Association With The St. Matthew's Churches Prayer Rug

...and this spry old broad, who was healed of "severe pains" in her left leg simply by placing the Church Prayer Rug over her legs for "a while!":

The St. Matthew's Churches Prayer Rug Isn't Just A Potential Cash Machine -- It Also Gives Its Wielder Strange Healing Powers

Clearly, this St. Matthew's Church Prayer Rug was an artifact of great religious power, not unlike the Shroud of Turin or Marx Brothers Yarmulkes! But I needed to know more before putting it to use.

Reaching back into the pile of goodies, I retrieved a long, rambling letter highlighted with lots of bold text and red underlines -- my kind of writing! This paragraph leapt out at me immediately:

What the-?! Holy Shit! Tell Me More!

Can you believe it? If I was reading this right, St. Matthew's Churches was loaning me, the Sultan of Syllables, the most holy object they possessed! How fantastic is that?! Here's a picture of it; Satan-worshippers should probably avert their eyes:

This Anointed Prayer Rug Is Loaded With God's Holy Blessing Power

Surprisingly, the St. Matthew's Churches Prayer Rug was made of thin paper...but any doubts raised by its earthly vessel were laid to rest when I read the text printed on the back, which assured me: "'This Prayer Rug is soaked with the Power of Prayer for you. Use it immediately, then please return it with your Prayer Needs Checked on our letter to you.' It must be mailed to a second home that needs a blessing after you use it. Prayer works. Expect God's blessing."

At that point, my jaw dropped open in shock. Not only had St. Matthew's Churches used quotes around the first block of text with none around the second, but they also sent their sacred Prayer Rug -- soaked with the Power of Prayer, no less -- to a complete stranger, and trusted said stranger to send it back to them! Was this some kind of sick joke? What kind of naively idiotic organization was I dealing with???

True, the immediate stranger in question was the irreproachable Pharaoh of 5-7-5, but who knew what kind of savage fiend it might go to next?! Possibly even my arch-foe, Haikunestro!

Needless to say, that gruesome possibility must be avoided at all costs, loyal readers. So for the safety of St. Matthew's Churches and the world, I've decided to keep their Prayer Rug here at my top secret base of operations, where it will be far more secure than with potentially villainous strangers.

Besides, I'm sure it'll come in handy on my adventures. God's holy blessing power is one heck of an ace to have up one's sleeve when you're a professional crimefighter like yours truly.

My course of action decided, I went ahead and filled out the form...

The Haiku Master Put In A Request For An Even Newer Car, A Money Blessing, $10 Gazillion Dollars, And Prayers For Bush & Cheney

...and packed it into the postage-paid return envelope. Sans the St. Matthew's Churches Prayer Rug, of course. I'm sure they'll understand once they hear my reasons.

Thanks To This Postage-Paid Return Envelope, It Didn't Cost The Haiku Master A Dime To Take Advantage Of St. Matthews Churches' Fantastic Offer

That's it for now, friends -- time for me to take the Power of Prayer out for a test spin.

Best,

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. 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

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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---