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

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CHAPTER III

Thanks to my recruitment efforts, the Haiku Plane was stuffed to the gills with six of the roughest roughnecks around when it set down at Las Vegas' McCarran International Airport that Thursday morning. In fact, before we go any further, I do believe it's time for the Vegas Roll Call:

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The Haiku Master: Possessed of mad haiku and crimefighting skillz, this world-famous adventurer needs no introduction.

Paulo: Noted cockfighting champion, and one of Mexico's greatest warriors. Also a skilled mariachi trumpet player.

Old Man Winter: An oft-drunk senior citizen with witchy winter powers. Can be downright dangerous when he's off his meds.

The Haiku-Bot: A robot copy of The Haiku Master, created by the Church of Scientology and rewired for domestic servitude by Best Buy's "Geek Squad." Makes the world's finest hoagie.

Dubya: On loan from legendary concert promoter Texas Kelly. Will not back down from a fight, and may or may not be a clone of America's so-called president.

Angelina Jolie: The sexiest woman alive, and very easy on the eyes. Also an expert at recovering lost treasure and adopting alleged orphans.

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Seconds after the Haiku Plane touched down on the runway, Old Man Winter was out of his seat -- clutching large wads of cash in each hand as his eyes flashed wildly!

"Haiku Master! Hey, Haiku Master! Are we there yet? Huh? Are we there? I'm dying to lay some bets!"

"Sweet Jesus, man!" I replied, lounging in the navigator's seat as the Haiku-Bot taxied us to our gate. "We're not even off the runway! Calm down -- you'll upset Angelina!"

"Thank you, darling," Angelina said huskily from her easy-massage-access position behind yours truly. "That man frightens me to death."

"Fear not, my sweet. We'll be ensconced at our love nest at the local Motel 6: The Official Motel Chain of The Haiku Master soon enough!"

"Motel 6?" she said, eyes wide in shock. "Never in hell would I stay at a Motel 6! My first husband caught syhphilis using the toilet at one of those fleabag joints!"

"Yeah, I'm not too keen on 'the 6' either, Haiku Master," said O.M.W. "I got crabs from the one we stayed at in Cairo. I'm sure it wasn't from any of the call girls, 'cause they all told me they were clean."

(Ed. Note: See "Wheelin' and Dealin'" for details.)

"Dubya think that another e-xag-ger-a-tion," Dubya retorted. "Eh-heh-heh-heh-heh."

"I don't care where we stay," Paulo added, "so long as I get something to eat. I'm hongry."

"Enough!" I shouted. "You people are driving me bonkers! Except for you, Angelina."

"Excuse me Mr., The Haiku Master sir," said the Haiku-Bot, "but we have arrived at, the gate. The captain has, extinguished the 'no smoking' and, 'seatbelt' lights and passengers, may. Depart."

"Thank #$%@ for that!" said Old Man Winter, lighting a long, fat cigar as he grabbed his carry-on bag. "I'll meet you guys at the Hilton -- time for this mad daddy to throw some bones!"

"I'll go with you, Señor Winter," said Paulo. "I gotta get something to eat. I'm hongry."

"Dubya go too," added the freakishly bearded giant. "Me survey the damage."

"Okay, but don't forget: we're meeting Professor de la Groove at the Las Vegas Hilton's Space Quest Casino at 12:00 o'clock! Don't be late!"

"Hey, don't worry about us Haiku Master!" Old Man Winter shouted back as the three scuttled off the plane. "We'll be fine, you'll see!"

With that, they were gone... and I soon found myself once more in the warm embrace of the world's sexiest woman, Angelina Jolie!

"Now that they're gone, darling," she whispered, "do you think you could fit some time into your busy crimefighting schedule for some mad, passionate lovemaking with me?"

"Could I ever! Let me just shut down the Haiku-Bot first..."

"No, let him watch -- let him see what he is missing! Let all the men of the world see what they are missing when they are not with me: Angelina Jolie!! Mwa-ha! Mwa-ha! Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!!!"

Being a wholesome American entertainment provider, we at Haiku International will now dim the lights so that any children in the audience won't be subjected to the horribly unnatural sight of naked human beings. Don't worry, though; we'll have plenty of good old fashioned violence for them in subsequent chapters!

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

wheelin' and dealin', pt. III

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CHAPTER III

The deal went down without a hitch -- much to my surprise, might I add! Shortly after the two showed up, Minderbinder was on his way with an attaché case full of cash, leaving Old Man Winter and myself in possession of stock certificates good for 95% of the entire world market for Egyptian cotton.

"Can you believe it, Haiku Master?!" Winter screeched, gleefully tossing two fistfuls of certificates above his head. "Hey, Haiku Master! Can you believe it?! What'd I tell you, huh? We're gonna be rich, baby! Filthy, stinking, dirty-drawers rich!"

"It certainly does appear to be the case," I said. "I wonder what all this is worth?"

"Millions! Billions! Gazillions!" mused Winter. "I mean, look at it all! Plus, we got ninety-five percent of the market! That's practically a monopoly!"

"True... but it's pronounced 'mah-no-paul-eee.' But why quibble over semantics? Let's celebrate!"

And celebrate we did! After directing the Motel 6's concierge to send up a cooler chockfull of beer and ice, we headed to one of Cairo's many fine beaches, and soon made the acquaintance of these local bunnies:

The Haiku Master (Left) And Old Man Winter Always Have Time For The Ladies

Our group partied long into the night, and parting proved to be as unsweetly sorrowful as ever when O.M.W. and I bid our farewells to those middle-aged vixens the next morn. After checking out of the Motel 6, Winter and I shared a taxi to Cairo International, where we went our separate ways -- he to the North Pole, and me to Castle Haiku.

"Haiku Master! Hey, Haiku Master! I'll see you later, okay?!" Winter shouted, just as the airport's security screeners found the live grenades I'd planted on his luggage earlier that day. A platoon of hired goons descended upon him with boots and clubs, providing me with a good chuckle as I whizzed through the V.I.P. gate to the waiting Haiku Plane.

Make no mistake, though -- Winter will get his share once Haiku International's Minister of Operations, Oswald "Oz" Carver, finds a suitable buyer for the Egyptian cotton. After all, I may be petty, but the Pharaoh of 5-7-5 always honors his debts! So sayeth I... The Haiku Master!

wheelin' and dealin', pt. II

***
CHAPTER II

Following Old Man Winter's frantic phone call, I directed Castle Haiku's staff to prepare the Haiku Plane for takeoff, and was Cairo-bound within the hour. Upon landing at Cairo International Airport, I cast about for a ride to the local Motel 6... and soon found one in the form of a slackjawed lad and his camel-powered buggy!

Cairo

"I know you!" the boy, Fuad, gasped as we trotted through the packed city streets. "You are a very famous American, yes?"

"Er, well, I don't like to toot my own horn, but yes, yes I am," I replied, truthfully.

"I knew it! Where have I seen you?"

"Well, I'm the internationally renowned crimefighter known as..."

"Yes, now I know! You are on that very funny show, how you do you say it, 'Kids in the Hall!'"

"'Kids in the Hall?'"

"Yes!"

"No..."

"Yes!"

"...it rings a bell, but..."

"Yes!"

"No, really, I'm..."

"Cabbage Head! Yes, you are the Cabbage Head! Ha ha ha, I knew it! You make me laugh so much on the television! Please -- please let me have your autograph!"

"Cabbage Head!? Why you-!!" I barked. "I'm The Haiku Master, fool, not some two-bit impersonator!"

"But..."

"But nothing! I've heard enough! That's my stop up there -- pull over!"

Fuad savagely forced the camel to halt, and I disembarked.

"Wait, wait mister, don't be angry," he begged. "It's just that you look so much like him!"

"Hmm. Well, I suppose it is a common enough mistake," I said as I paid the fare. "Nevertheless, the Sultan of Syllables doesn't take kindly to being compared to lame sketch comedy characters from Canada! Now good day, sir!"

Grabbing my bag, I headed to the Motel 6's front desk. After checking in, I asked the concierge to inform Old Man Winter of my arrival, then went up to my room to await his call. It didn't take long; I was only into my second glass of George Dickel: The Official Whisky of The Haiku Master when the room's phone started to ring.

George Dickel No's. 8 & 12: The Only Whisky Endorsed By The Haiku Master

"Haiku Master's room," I answered, suavely. "Haiku Master speaking."

"Hey, Haiku Master! Haiku Master, it's me, Old Man Winter! How's it going?"

"It's going fine, but a busy man like me doesn't have time for pleasantries. Now what's going on with this Egyptian cotton deal?"

"Oh right, the cotton! Hey Haiku Master, listen, it's all under control! Minderbinder's here and he's ready to get down to business. We're gonna be rich, baby -- filthy, stinking rich!"

"Minderbinder? Who's this Minderbinder?"

"Oh, Milo -- he's the broker on this little transaction. Don't worry about him though, Haiku Master, he's cool. Me and him go way back."

"You're trying to tell me that someone named Milo Minderbinder is 'cool?'"

"Yeah, Haiku Master! You can trust me on this -- I haven't gone off my meds since February! Honest!"

"Well, as much as it pains me, I suppose I'll have to take your word for it. Where does 'Milo' want to do this? Your room? My room? The motel's lounge? Time's a-wastin', man!"

There was some muffled chatter from Old Man Winter's end. Seconds passed, and then: "Hey Haiku Master! Haiku Master, it's me, Old Man Winter! You still there?"

"Yes, I'm still here! And stop shouting, goddammit!"

"Okay, great! Listen, he says we're coming over there -- room 227, right?"

"Right, 227. Now hurry up. And bring your own booze for once, you mooching bastard!"

I set the receiver down and finished off my drink, wondering what kind of bad craziness would ensue once O.M.W. and this Minderbinder freak walked through the door. Little did I know I had nothing to worry about!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'WHEELIN' AND DEALIN'' PT. III---

wheelin' and dealin', pt. I

Click For Larger Image

***
CHAPTER I

It all began innocuously enough. There I was, lost in a study of the works of William Gaines from the comfort of Castle Haiku's stately library, when my butler -- the formerly diabolical Haiku-Bot* -- saw fit to disturb me.

The Haiku-Bot

"Excuse, me Mr. The Haiku Master," it said. "You, have a phone call."

"The devil you say!" I said with great flourish. I'd recently heard that phrase in a Nixon joke, and had been dying to use it ever since.

"Eh...no. It is not, the devil. It is, Mr. Old Man Winter. He would like, to speak with. You."

"Old Man Winter? That frostbitten old fraud?" I scoffed, returning to the leather-bound volume before me. "Tell him I'm busy."

"Begging, your pardon Mr. The Haiku Master but, upon registering the caller's identity my, giga-processors immediately calculated your likely reply and, already told Mr. Old Man Winter that you, are too. Busy. In response Mr., Old Man Winter said it is, urgent."

"Alright, alright! But if this turns out to be another one of his crank calls, you'll get no oil baths for a month, H.B.!"

"Understood Mr., The Haiku Master. I will patch him, through to the library's. Intercom."

The Haiku-Bot turned to leave, and within minutes the grating sound of Old Man Winter's voice filled the room.

"...ku Master! Hey, Haiku Master! It's me -- Old Man Winter! Can you hear me?!"

"Of course I can hear you! My highly attuned Haiku Master super-hearing can hear a fly crapping from 20 miles away! Now quit the small talk and cut to the chase!"

"A fly crapping from 20 miles away? Why in the hell would you want to hear that?"

It was a good question... but not one I was prepared to answer. "That's none of your business, Winter. Now tell me why you called!"

"Oh, right! Why I called! Hey listen, Haiku Master -- I got a line on a great opportunity! Egyptian cotton, baby! We're all gonna be rich!"

"Egyptian cotton? Stop babbling, man! You're not making any sense!"

"Look, I can't explain it over the phone; just get your ass to Cairo! You'll find me at the Motel Six. And bring a big suitcase, Haiku Master! You're gonna need it for all the moolah you're gonna make!"

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

For reasons I still can't explain, I decided to take Old Man Winter up on his offer. Perhaps it was the surprise plug for Motel 6: The Official Motel Chain of The Haiku Master. Perhaps it was our shared love of strong American whiskey and fine Cuban tobacco. Either way, it turned out to be one of the best decisions of my life, which is why I've added the following line to my personal "rules for living": When it comes to outstanding sources of financial advice, it's hard to beat rum-soaked bearded degenerates in green robes!

---CLICK HERE FOR 'WHEELIN' AND DEALIN'' PT. II---

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* I got the "Geek Squad" at my local Best Buy to rewire him for domestic servitude following my tussle with the Church of Scientology. You people don't expect me to keep you up to date on everything I do, do you?