getting the band back together is proving difficult

Come on in, kids. It's your old friend, The Haiku Master, but I'm feeling a little glum... 'cause I'm having very little luck getting firm commitments to future adventures from formerly staunch Haiku International agents and associates!

I know, I can hardly believe it myself! The nerve of those bums -- now I know how Jesus felt in the garden of Gethsemane! At any rate, here's a run-down of what some of the more notable ones say they're too busy doing to help me out if I find myself in a pinch:

• Paulo: Running a cockfighting academy in Pescados Muertos, Mexico. Think Han's island in Enter the Dragon, only replace "Han" with "Paulo," "island" with "bombed-out Mexican village," and "kung fu" with "cockfighting," and you'll get the idea.

• Professor de la Groove: Doing tantric research aboard the International Space Station, along with some call girls and his assistants Ralphus and Malphus. Not scheduled to return to Earth until mid-2007.


Ralphus







Malphus







• Texas Kelly: Managing an up-and-coming "boy band" down in Austin, TX, with the help of his longtime sidekick/Bizarro Bush clone, Dubya. He says the band, Young Taint, has superstardom in their grasp, and he can't leave them alone at this juncture without fear of some other manager stealing them away.

Dubya







• Angelina Jolie: Bitch shacked up with Brad Pitt, in case you hadn't heard. Pitt can have my sloppy seconds for all I care -- I've got my eye on Scarlett Johansson these days, anyway. Besides, I've never viewed a houseful of adopted street urchins as desireable.

So there you have it. Good thing the Haiku-Bot and new H.I. operative Brother Ko are onhand to get my back if things get hairy. Ooh, not to mention the Haiku Street Irregulars. I wonder what those scamps are up to, anyway? Guess I'll leave a bottle of hooch out by the trash cans and see how many show up. Those kids sure love their liquor.

Best,

happy cinco de mayo

Greetings, 'ku believers! No, you're not hallucinating again -- it's really me, The Haiku Master, writing from my top secret base of operations atop an exclusive Himalayan mountain to wish you a drunkenly happy Cinco de Mayo!!!

That's right! Don't expect this to become a habit, though. See, ever since leaving Baltimore I've been living with a bunch of monks, which is about as much fun as it sounds. Talk about uptight; they even have a whacko "code of silence," and force me to abide by it too. All of which leaves very little excitement with which to regale you. And like it says on my business card, "If I can't excite, I ain't gonna write."

From Left: Brother Lo, Brother Ko, The Haiku Master, Brother Po, Brother Ho, And Brother Mo

But seeing as Cinco de Mayo is the Sultan of Syllables' all-time favorite holiday, I decided to liven things up by slipping tequila into the monastery's drinking water... and brother, was it ever worth it! The whole crew is talking up a storm, and some of 'em even got into fistfights. Plus, I'm pretty sure Brother Lo is suffering from a bad case of alcohol poisoning as we speak! Talk about a fiesta!

Too bad my old sidekick Paulo can't be here to give it that authentic Mexican flair. Or Santo and Blue Demon, for that matter. Truth be told I miss all of the old crew: Paulo, the Haiku-Bot, Old Man Winter, Angelina Jolie, Professor de la Groove... heck, even slick Texas Kelly and his weird Bush clone, Dubya. But alas, those days are gone. I'll keep sending you Friday Haiku though -- assuming you people keep paying your annual dues, that is.

Best,


-----------
p.s. I hear that Haiku International's former Minister of Operations, Oswald "Oz" Carver, has started a "blog" called Oz's Funhouse. I'd check it out, but that guy gives me the creeps. Not to mention the fact he works blue. Very blue. You have been warned.

it's okay gang, i took care of business

How's it shaking, folks? Well lemme tell ya are ya ever in for a surprise, 'cause this ain't the Haiku Master talking to ya, and it ain't that schlub Haikunestro either; it's me, lovable star of film and television Joey Bishop!!!

What A Mug, Huh? That's Me, Joey Bishop!

Ya better believe it -- me, the last surviving member of the Rat Pack! I know what yer thinking: "Joey, as someone who follows yer career very closely, I know yer still alive and all, but ain't ya a very old man? Is it safe for ya to be movin' around and 'blogging' and all that?"

So I says to ya, "Hey, I'm no old man -- I'm the Joey Bishop from 1960! Footloose, fancy-free and rarin' to cock-a-doodle-doo all night long!! How do ya like them apples?"

Which of course makes ya say, "I like 'em a lot Joey, but how could ya be the Joey Bishop from 1960? It's 2005 for Pete's sake!"

To be honest, I ain't real sure. It has something to do with some theory that matter can't be destroyed or created, so when that Haiku Master friend of yers got sent back to 1960, I got sent here to 2005 as a make-good. At least, that's what the Perfessor I met at the modern day Las Vegas Hilton said to me, if I'm remembering it right. He also told me that Haikunestro creep was behind it all, so I beat tracks over here to Castle Haiku as fast as I could and gave that lame-o some of the ol' ring-a-ding-ding!

I guess that's it. Time for me to hightail it back to Vegas, so I don't miss my temporal ride back home! Yowza, that wouldn't be good -- no way to get a doctor to touch up the x-rays on that one!

Good night folks,

Joey Bishop

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

* * *
CHAPTER XII

With Haikunestro on the run and Paulo serving as his hostage, there was scant time to spare. Fortunately -- very fortunately -- my foe had equipped his lab with two elevators; I gladly threw caution to the wind and jumped aboard the second.

"Haiku-Bot! Help Ralphus and Malphus get the Professor and Angelina to safety!" I shouted. "O.M.W.! Dubya! You're with me!"

From Left: Old Man Winter, Dubya, And The Haiku Master Prepare To Chase Haikunestro In An Elevator

"Dubya against the terrorists. Dubya with us!" Dubya confirmed as he got on the elevator.

"Crap," added O.M.W., joining us. "I was hoping to draw Angelina guard duty."

"Be careful, H.M.!" said the Professor. "I zink zat Haikunestro might have vun or two tricks still up his sleeve!"

"Well, he'd better," I said, pressing the "up" button. "Or he'll never make it out of Vegas alive!!!"

One short elevator ride later and we were back in the Las Vegas Hilton's Star Trek: The Experience concession... but where were Haikunestro and Paulo?!?

"Excuse me," I said to a pair of elderly women. "Have either of you seen a madman with a Hitler mustache escorting a Mexican fellow wearing a sombrero?"

"Oh, you again!" the fatter one said -- and I immediately recognized them as the silver-haired slot sluts from earlier! "We lost a lot of money 'cause of you and your big mouth!"

"Yeah, my mojo's still outta whack!" spat the other.

"Oh, never mind!" I said, turning to ask another passerby... and found myself face-to-face with none other than my close, personal friend, Billy Dee Williams!

The Haiku Master (Left) Greets His Old Ally, Billy Dee Williams

"Billy Dee Williams!" I said. "What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, baby? Cuttin' loose and getting wild!!!" he said, then took a long swig off his ever-present can of Colt 45: The Official Malt Liquor of Billy Dee Williams. "I also had to pick up my royalty check from the Star Wars slots they have here. What about you?"

"Looking for my arch-enemy, Haikunestro -- you haven't seen him, have you?"

"D-a-a-a-a-a-mn! I thought that was him I saw heading towards the parking garage, but he had some Mexican dude with him so I wasn't sure. Plus, I've been drinking this sweet, sweet malt liquor for so long I don't even trust my own senses anymore! Ain't that crazy?!"

"If it's crazy, then I should've been locked up ages ago," I assured him. "Thanks for the info, old friend; time for my partners and me to take that haiku-hating bastard down!"

"Be careful H.M.," he said. "And be sure to use some Colt 45 on his ass! Works every time!!!"

Leaving Billy Dee behind, we rushed into the Hilton's parking garage -- just as two loud gunshots rang out!

"What the--?!" I gasped, running towards the sound with O.M.W. and Dubya behind me. I rounded a corner expecting the worst, and was instead greeted by a most welcome -- and strangely familiar -- sight!

Haikunestro lay on the cold concrete floor of the parking garage in a growing pool of his own blood. Paulo was safely off to the side, and standing above my arch-foe was a large form draped in fine blue silk. This person wore an equally blue sombrero, and held a large, blue, smoking revolver in each hand.

The Blue Sombrero, A.K.A. The Mexico City Madman, Returns

"That," the stranger said in a smooth Mexican accent, "is for sleeping with my wife again. The next time it will be your life! Adios, híbrido!"

Just as quickly as he appeared, the mysterious gunfighter in blue was gone.

"Was that... the Blue Sombrero?" an awed Old Man Winter asked.

"The Mexico City Madman?" I said. "It sure was, friend. It sure was. But never mind that now; Paulo, are you alright?"

"Sí, Hombre muy Extraño," he said, brushing himself off as he rose. "But what of the robot cocks? You told me there would be robot cocks!"

"Robot cocks..?" said Old Man Winter, starting to giggle. "Robot cocks???" He then doubled over with mirth, laughing long and hard until finally wheezing to a stop.

What it was he found so funny, I do not know.

* * *
EPILOGUE

Shortly thereafter it was determined that Haikunestro was not dead, just severly wounded, and he and his Trekkie henchmen were soon rounded up by the fine men and women of the Las Vegas Police Department.

That ugly business settled, Paulo, O.M.W., Dubya, and I met up with the others in the Hilton's impressive sports book. We decided to eat there, dining on delicious hoagies and gallon-sized plastic footballs filled to the brim with beer.

"So I guess zat is zat," said Professor de la Groove, bits of hoagie clinging to his mustache. "I only hope zat my vun great fear vill not be realized!"

"Your one great fear?" I said. "What would that be?"

"Zat jou dumkopfs might have messed vith ze time-space continuum vhen jou vent back to 1960! Tell me, jou didn't interact vith any famous people, did jou?"

"Not me," I said, almost too quickly.

"Not you?!" scoffed Old Man Winter. "What about the Rat Pack, Haiku Master? Huh Haiku Master? What about them?"

"Oh yeah. There was that..."

"Oy!" said the Professor. "Und vat of jou zree, hmm?"

"Nah, nobody famous, but we did meet some pretty cool people," O.M.W. replied. "Check out our pictures!"

Old Man Winter, Dubya, And Paulo Mugging With Non-Famous People From 1960

"Nobody famous!" gasped the Professor. "Zat's John F. Kennedy, Cassius Clay, Marilyn Monroe, und Elvis! Vat do jou mean, not famous?"

"Oh! No wonder I found these pictures in a history book!" O.M.W. chortled. "You gotta admit, that's pretty funny! Hey Haiku Master, ain't that funny?"

"Feh," Angelina sneered, looking at the blurry black-and-white images. "That Marilyn was such a cow."

Hoping to change the subject, I said: "Er, I have a question Professor -- if I got replaced by Joey Bishop when I went back in time, who replaced these guys?"

"Two vinos und a mental patient."

"Huh. Well, with that cleared up I guess I can label this case as 100% 'closed'!"

Closed it was... but fabulous Las Vegas would have one more surprise for me before I left its warm embrace, as seen in this unbelievable photo!

The Haiku Master Inspects The Las Vegas Hilton's Fitting Tribute To His Bravery

That's right! The Las Vegas Hilton paid homage to yours truly's death-defying deeds by unfurling this mega-sized banner above the hotel's glittering pool on my last day in town! Talk about a perfect ending!

But when you're me, every ending is perfect... 'cause I'm The Haiku Master!!!

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

* * *
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---

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

* * *
CHAPTER X

Those who guessed the reappearance of the golden energy beam meant the four of us were about to be whisked back to 2005 guessed correctly... for when the effect wore off, we found ourselves once more in Haikunestro's underground lab!

1960 Behind Them, The Haiku Master (Front Row, Right) & Co. Head Back To 2005

"Great Scott!" I shouted, leaping off the familiar medical table in a Haikung Fu fighting stance, ready to unleash the devastating attack referred to by the ancient masters as the Boilermaker on the first Trek-themed goon who crossed my path!

"It worked, Professor! They're back, and the others are gone!" yelped a lush female voice that could only belong to the world's sexiest woman, Angelina Jolie!

I turned and saw the apple of my eye standing near the lab's massive computer bank, which was being fiendishly manipulated by Professor de la Groove and the Haiku-Bot! Ralphus and Malphus were also nearby, with no Trekkies in sight... nor that arch-fiend, Haikunestro!

"Huzzah!" the Professor said, clapping the Haiku-Bot on the back. "Nice vork, H.B. -- jou are vun hell of a programmer, mein friend!"

"All in a, day's work Mr., Professor de la Groove sir," it replied. And if I didn't know better, I'd have it say it was blushing! "Besides I was, only carrying out your most, excellent. Instructions without them I would have been, lost."

"Nonsense! In fact..."

"A-hem!" I interjected, feeling more than a little put off. "If you're all done congratulating each other over there, would someone mind telling the hero of this little adventure what's going on?"

That's all it took to get de la Groove going on one of his trademarked, long-winded, tecnobabble-heavy expositions... one that was suddenly cut off by the totally unexpected reappearance of Haikunestro!!

Haikunestro: One Bad Penny

"You didn't seriously think Joey Bishop was enough to stop me, did you?!" he sneered, barging into the lab with a squadron of Star Trek heavies at his back. "Regardless, he wasn't -- and now you're all going to die!!!"

I smell a climax in this odyssey's immediate future, ladies and gentlemen... or my name's not The Haiku Master!!

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

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

* * *
CHAPTER VI

Within moments we found ourselves surrounded by some tough-talking characters in Star Trek costumes, all sworn to do the twisted bidding of my arch-enemy... and armed to the teeth with some sweet futuristic rayguns! Talk about being outgunned and outclassed!

Haikunestro (Second From Left) And Some Of His Hired Thugs

"And so we really meet again for the last time this time, you cabbage-coiffed coolie!" Haikunestro snarled.

"Haikunestro!" I gasped. "How did you find us so quickly, you fiend?!"

"How did I find you? I recently purchased the Las Vegas Hilton's Star Trek: The Experience concession -- right next door to the Space Quest Casino! That's how I found you! Or didn't Professor de la Grump here--"

"Hey! I am not grumpy!" the Prof shouted.

"--have a chance to explain that to you yet?"

"No he hadn't... but it doesn't surprise me in the least! The Pharaoh of 5-7-5 has been highly disappointed by the recent deterioration of the once-proud Trek franchise, and learning that you're involved with it explains a lot!"

"Why you--!!" he grumbled, shaking his fist. "Lieutenant Kyle!"

"Yo-ho, mon capitan!" shouted a flunky in a red shirt.

"I want you and a security detail to escort the old man and the fez monkeys to the brig! Then, secure the Haiku Doofus in my lab."

"Yo ho! And what of the prostitute, sir?"

Angelina's eyes flew open in shock. "Prostitute?"

"Vuh-oh," said the Professor. "Now I zink zey gone and done it."

"I! AM NOT! A PROSTITUTE!!!" bellowed the Oscar-winning star of Gone in 60 Seconds, grabbing two red-shirts and slamming their heads together with deadly results! More guards rushed in and she leapt skyward, her diamond-hard high heels crushing a couple of skulls upon her descent!

Oscar Winner Angelina Jolie: Not A Prostitute

"Well?" she said to me, eyes gleaming madly as she licked her lips. "Do you want to live forever?!"

"Hell yes!!!" I replied, rushing into the fray! I wasn't the only one emboldened by Angelina's bravery; as I unleashed the Haikung Fu technique known as the Ziggy Piggy on a goon done up like a Klingon, Ralphus and Malphus joined in too! Before I knew it, we had a certified brouhaha on our hands!

"All right, all right -- that's enough of that!" Haikunestro shouted... grabbing the Professor and pointing a massive laser gun right at his head!

"Check and mate, H.M." my longtime foe giggled. "Now put down your dukes and surrender, or de la Groove's going to have a 'hole' lot of thinking to do. Heh. Heh heh. Heh heh heh. Get it? 'Hole' lot of thinking to do? Huh? Do you get it?"

"Umm, no..." I said, truthfully.

"I mean I'm going to put a hole in his head if you people don't stop fighting!! Jesus, you are such a moron!"

Now that I understood... leaving yours truly no choice but to surrender! Who knows whether or not I'll survive our next chapter, folks; guess you'll have to wait and see!!!


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

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

* * *
CHAPTER V

Not surprisingly, Professor de la Groove entered the Space Quest Casino at precisely 12:00 p.m. -- "local time" -- accompanied as always by his assistants, Ralphus and Malphus. Much to my embarrassment, however, Old Man Winter, Paulo, and Dubya were nowhere to be seen... despite O.M.W.'s glib assurances to the contrary!

Professor De La Groove (Center) And His Assistants, Ralphus (Left) and Malphus, Arrive At The Space Quest Casino

"So H.M.," said the Professor, lighting an expensive cigar. "I ask jou to gather a highly trained crew of seasoned professionals, and zis is vat jou bring me? A vell-dressed prostitute and a pack of seedy European businessmen? Zat I could've done myself."

"I knew she was a prostitute!" I heard one of the businessmen whisper. "Now pay up!"

"Alright, old chap, you win," said a second. "It's a load off, actually. A woman of Angelina Jolie's stature spending time with a mentally handicapped medical oddity such as that made absolutely..."

"Ex-cuse me? A prostitute?!" hissed an enraged Angelina, de la Groove's insinuation finally sinking in. "As it so happens, I'm an Oscar-winning actress -- and the sexiest woman alive! Besides, I'm not the one dressed like... like... like an avacado pimp!"

"Ooooh," the Professor said, raising his hands in mock surrender as he turned to me, laughing. "Ooh, she is ze feisty one, H.M.! Jou'd better vatch jourself vith--!!"

Before he had a chance to finish, SWA-MACK!!! Angelina landed a wicked slap against the decrepit old man's noggin, knocking his fine hat clear off his head! A bad move on her part; without batting an eye Malphus leapt forward, catching her in a dreaded Sleeper Hold!! Angelina thrashed wildly, eyes screaming murder! It looked as if all hell was about to break loose, until:

"No no, Malphus, let her be," said the Professor, smiling, as Ralphus retrieved his hat and placed it back on his wizened head. "Let her be. I deserved zat." Then, to Angelina: "My dear Miss Jolie, please accept ze most humble apologies of Professor Zadwick Tiberius Vilhelm de la Groove. I know very vell vho jou are, and am a fervent admirer. But I needed to measure jour fire, and figured ze best vay to do zat vas vith ze old insult. Frankly, it comes as no surprise zat jou passed.

"Zat said," he continued, "I still zink ve'll need more support, zough jou both bring considerable talents to ze table. Vhat zose guys bring, I don't know."

"What, you mean the seedy European businessmen?"

"Hey!" one of them shouted. "We are not seedy!"

"Bad form," muttered another.

"Oui, vho else vould I mean?"

"Oh, they're not actually with us. We were just playing some baccarat with them."

"Baccarat? Vhat do jou know about ze baccarat, H.M.?"

"Not much, as it turns out. They really took me to the cleaners!"

Try As He Might, The Haiku Master (Center) Couldn't Figure Out What The Hell Goes On With Baccarat

"Ah vell, live and learn. Or in jour case just live, eh?"

"You better believe it, Prof!"

"Either vay, zis is ze bad news jou are bringing me. Even vith my help, vun professional crimefighter and ze vorld's sexiest voman von't be enough to stop Haikunestro's mad plot, mark my vords!"

"Don't mark 'em yet -- we didn't come alone!"

"Oh? Jou brought a group vith jou, did jou?" he said, scanning the casino before shrugging. "Zen vhere are zey, H.M.? Hmm? Hmmmm? Don't tell me zey are invisible, my young friend!"

"No, they're not invisible! They're around here somewhere... there's a robot, and a weather warlock, and a top-rated cockfighting champ -- ooh, and a super-strong dude who might be a clone of George W. Bush! Tell him, Angelina! Tell him!"

"It's true, Professor. They just appear to be late. The robot, however, is waiting outside by the cabstand."

"Now jou I can believe," said my old ally, slyly winking at my current squeeze. "Vell, I guess ve can give zem a few more min..."

"Stuff it, old-timer," said an eerily familiar voice behind me. "The only thing you're going to be giving is the sweet, sweet pleasure of watching you all die long, drawn-out, excruciatingly painful deaths -- and you'll be giving it all to me! All to daddy!! All to the pop-a-rooski!!!"

I swung around in a Haikung Fu fighting stance... only to find myself once more face-to-face with the vilest traitor in the venerable Cobra Kai Haiku Order's long history!

"That's right, shit for brains," he said, sneering. "It's me... the one and only Haikunestro!!!"


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

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

* * *
CHAPTER IV

Following a torrid session with Angelina Jolie, I happened to glance at my watch while getting dressed... and realized it was already half-past twelve!

Angelina Jolie Snuggles Up To The Haiku Master (Left) On The Haiku Plane While A Jealous Haiku-Bot Looks On

"Sweaty Mother of Arbuckle!" I gasped. "We're late, Angelina -- Professor de la Groove's going to be furious! Come on, let's go!"

"But darling," she said. "I still have to put on my makeup!"

"No time for that now; you can put it on in the cab! Haiku-Bot, you too! Let's move it, people!"

"Begging your pardon Mr., The Haiku Master sir but, my internal servo-processors indicate..."

"Less talk more go!" I barked, straightening my ascot as I locked the Haiku Plane's hatch behind me.

With that, we hustled through the airport and out to our choice of waiting cabs. We opted for a no-nonsense white model emblazoned with ads for Barry Manilow, Carrot Top, and the like, and were soon on our way.

"Where you folks headed?" the cabbie asked.

"The Las Vegas Hilton -- and there's an extra something in it for you if you can get us there forty minutes ago!"

"That's a tall order chief, but I'll see what I can do."

See he did, but it was all for naught... for by the time we arrived at the Hilton, it was already one o'clock! Needless to say, our driver did not receive a tip.

From Left: The Haiku-Bot, Angelina Jolie, And The Haiku Master Enter The Las Vegas Hilton's Space Quest Casino

"Goddamn the hands of time!" I shouted as we burst into the Space Quest Casino, startling some elderly women who were fiendishly feeding their pensions into a bank of Damnation Alley-themed slot machines. "I don't see Professor de la Groove anywhere -- they must've gone on without us!"

"Keep it down, you bozo!" said one of the grandmothers. "We're trying to win some money here!"

"Yeah!" said a second. "You're gonna throw my mojo out of whack!"

"With all due respect Mr., The Haiku Master sir," said the Haiku-Bot, "but I believe, we are. Early."

"What are you babbling on about now?! Unless Congress recently voted to change the direction in which time flows, one o'clock still comes after twelve o'clock!!"

"Tsk, this horrible Administration," Angelina said. "Is there nothing so low as to prevent them from stooping for it?"

Ignoring Angelina, the Haiku-Bot continued. "Bzzt. Correct. As of my, most recent data update Congress, has not changed the flow of time."

"Then how the hell could we be early?"

"Mr. The Haiku, Master sir there is, a three hour time difference. Between the east and, west coasts of the United, States. Of America."

"Three hour time difference... what on earth are you talking about, you overweight blob of grease?!"

"He's right, darling," Angelina breathed huskily in my ear. "I learned about it through all the travel required by my profession."

"Well I'll be a monkey's uncle!" I declared. "That certainly explains a lot of the confusing situations I encounter while on the road. But no matter now. All right, let's synchronize watches! Ten-oh-nine 'local time' on my mark, and... Mark!"

The issue settled, the three of us decided to kill the remaining hours by easing into some high stakes gambling. At least, we were going to until the Haiku-Bot found itself fairly discriminated against!

"Hey!" shouted the Space Quest Bar's pudgy tender, pointing wildly at H.B. "We don't serve their kind here!"

Any Similarities Between The Space Quest Bartender And A Lucasfilm Character Are Purely Coincidental

"I sincerely hope you're not referring to Homo Cabbagiens," I growled, simmering with rage at the apparent racism.

"No, 'droids. It'll have to wait outside. We don't want them here."

"Why not?"

"'Cause it's too easy for them to cheat! They got minds like computers, man!"

"Oh, I guess I can see that," I said. Then, to H.B.: "Listen, why don't you go wait out by the cabstand? We don't want any trouble."

"I heartily agree with, you Mr., The Haiku Master. Sir."

As H.B. trotted off, Angelina and I got down to some white knuckle baccarat with a crew of seedy businessmen from Europe... never realizing that every crisp snap of the cards was being watched by my sworn arch-foe, the one and only Haikunestro!

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

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

* * *
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:

* * *

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.

* * *

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---

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

* * *
CHAPTER II

Having received my marching orders from Professor de la Groove, I set about assembling the crack team of skilled professionals we were after... an act that would require more than a little pride-swallowing on my part! Why? Because you can't spell "professional" without the letters "p," "o," "a," and "l" -- all of which can be found in the name of one of Mexico's greatest adventurers, and my onetime sidekick, Paulo!

Paulo: Agent Of Haiku

Unfortunately, Paulo and I were no longer on the best of terms, having parted ways earlier this year after he and our band, Masters of Mariachi, betrayed yours truly in Austin. (Ed. Note: See "Drunk in the Heart of Texas" for details.) Still, given Paulo's wide range of talents, I knew we had to have him if this mission was going to be a success.

"Ésta es casa de Paulo," he said in a language I didn't recognize when I finally got him on the phone. "¿Qué usted desea?"

"Paulo old sport! It's me, The Haiku Master!"

"¿Quién?"

"No, not the Queen -- The Haiku Master! You know, the Hombre muy Extraño? Now turn off the gibberish and turn on the English, son!"

"Oh, you. Well, uh, so what do you want?"

"I want what you want, friend!"

Silence. And then: "Tacos?"

"No! Danger! Excitement! Adventure! Bad craziness!!! That's what kindred souls like us want!"

"Oh. I think maybe you have the wrong number, señor."

"Wrong number?! Why you little rascal! This is about what happened last spring, isn't it?"

"No... Why? What happened last spring?"

"What happened last--?! Are you kidding me? You don't remember Sixsew? When you and MoM kicked me out of the band? And the subsequent unleashing of my infamous Haiku Master Beserker Rage, which undoubtedly landed all of you in traction for a few months or more? Is any of this ringing a bell?"

"Sí. All except the last part. You didn't hit us, señor. You just got mad, smashed two of Sanchez's guitars, then ran off screaming and waving your arms."

"Waving my... Huh. Well I'll be. Then you're not mad at me?"

"No, not me. Sanchez is though."

"Oh. I guess I can understand that. But why'd you say I had the wrong number if you're not mad?"

"Because I don't want those things you was talking about, Hombre muy Extraño. I just want some tacos."

"What about later?"

"You mean after tacos?"

"Yeah, after tacos."

"I don't know. Maybe I will take siesta?"

"A party?"

"No señor, that's fiesta."

"Then what the hell's a siesta?"

"A nap."

Doctor Who Owned The TARDIS, And Even He Didn't Spend As Much Time Talking On The Phone As The Haiku Master Has In This So-Called Adventure -- Ed.

"What the--?! For Pete's sake! What kind of crazy, mixed-up culture uses synonyms for its words for 'nap' and 'party'?!?"

"Sí, well, I'd love to say this was fun señor, but it wasn't. And I still want tacos."

Clearly, hope was fading fast... which meant it was time for the Pharaoh of 5-7-5 to fall back on the convincing power of a little white lie!

"Wait wait wait, Paulo -- listen to me! Remember who we fought on our first case together?"

"Sí, El Diablo. The cock with bones of steel."

"No, not the chicken. The chicken's owner, remember him?"

"If I tell you once, señor, I tell you a million times: is no chicken, is cock!"

"Look, I didn't call to argue semantics! Do you remember the owner, Haikunestro!?"

(Ed. Note: This time, see "Journey Into Mexico" for details.)

"Sí. What of him?"

"He's back, Paulo -- and this time, he's training an army of robot fighting chickens at his top secret base of operations in Las Vegas!"

"No!" Paulo gasped. "This cannot be! He'll drive all the honest cockfighters out of business! Gah -- like my cousin, Pepe!"

"Indeed he will, old friend... unless we stop him first! Now: are you with me?!?"

"¡Sí, Hombre muy Extraño, sí! No matter the cost, you can count on Paulo to help you with this!"

And just like that, Paulo was on board. With him secured, getting the rest of my prospective targets proved to be a breeze... though the mission awaiting us would be anything but!

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

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

Click For Larger Image

* * *
CHAPTER I

Set a course for High Adventure, adrenaline-heads! It's me, The Haiku Master, ready to pump you up with my latest, greatest, all-too-true Epic Saga!!!

Hot Babes Like This Are A Dime A Dozen In Vegas

So without further adieu, let's get into it. As they often do, this case started innocuously enough: I was polishing my game in Castle Haiku's bowling alley... when the Haiku-Bot had the unmitigated gall to interrupt!

"Excuse me Mr., The Haiku Master sir," it said, breaking my concentration and causing me to roll a gutter ball.

"Con-found it!" I growled. "Look what you made me do, you tin-plated creep!"

"Begging your pardon Mr., The Haiku Master but you, had already released the sphere prior, to my entrance and, based on my calculations a gutter, ball was inavoidable oh-point-two, seconds before I. Spoke."

"Talk to the hand, for my ears surely don't want to hear your paltry excuses!" I countered, raising my open right palm to H.B.'s face as my head turned sullenly to the left.

"Bzzt... hrmmm," it said, plainly confused. Regardless, H.B. pressed on, speaking into my hand as directed. "You have a, telephone. Call. It is Mr. Professor, de la Groove."

"Professor de la Groove?! Well why didn't you say so! Patch him through at once!"

The Haiku Master's Old Friend And Mentor, Professor De La Groove

I took a seat in one of the bowling alley's luxurious recliners, and within minutes the sound of my longtime science ally filled the room.

"'Allo? 'Allo? H.M., are jou zere?"

"Indeed I am, Professor! And as always, a pleasure to hear from you! To what do I owe the honor?"

"It iz ze trouble, H.M.! Ze beeeg trouble!"

"Big trouble, you say? Then it sounds like you called the right person! Lay it on me, Prof!"

"I cannot give jou ze details over ze phone, old friend, but I can tell jou zis: ze trouble of vhich I speak involves jour arch-enemy, ze city of Las Vegas, and ze greatest science fiction television franchise of all time!!"

"Well, I know the first one must be Haikunestro... but what's the TV show? Space: 1999?"

The Space: 1999 Year Two Soundtrack Continues To Be One Of The Haiku Master's Favorite Records

"No, you eembeezeel! It is ze Star Trek! But I can say no more on zis infernal contraption!"

"I understand, and it should go without saying that I'm ready and willing to give you all the help you need."

"I am very glad to hear jou say zat, H.M.! Ve're going to need a crew of seasoned pros to pull off zis job. I vant jou to assemble ze team, and meet me at ze Las Vegas Hilton at twelve o'clock zis Zursday!"

"Thursday? Why does everyone always want me to travel on Thursdays?"

"Vell, I can't speak for all ze people, but in my case it's a cheap day to fly."

"Fair enough -- and worry not! I know a number of top-rate pros who'll be happy to help... or else! But I do have one small request."

"Oui?"

"Can we stay at the local Motel 6: The Official Motel Chain of The Haiku Master instead of a Hilton? I'm sponsored by 'The 6', see, and I think it's against my contract to..."

"Ze Motel 6? Never in hell vould I stay at a Motel 6! My zird vife caught ze syphilis jusing ze toilet at vun of zose fleabag joints! Zat said, jou are free to sleep vherever jou vish. Just meet me at ze Hilton's Space Quest Casino by noon!"

Motel 6: The Only Motel Chain Endorsed By The Haiku Master, Despite Professor De La Groove's Unjustified Prejudices

After exchanging brief parting pleasantries with the Professor, I got down to work. Well, first I got the Haiku-Bot to make me one of his world-class hoagies, and then I got to work. Right after digesting lunch with another frame of bowling. And reading the latest issue of Jughead. For the second time.

But after all that, you can believe I got to it! And as subsequent chapters will reveal, it's a good thing I did... for the Pharaoh of 5-7-5 would soon be embroiled in one of the most death-defying odysseys of an already legendary career!!!

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

no downtime for the dumb

Hello, 'ku believers. It's your close, personal friend, The Haiku Master, and it looks like my hope for a relaxing weekend has been shot to hell once more.

Turns out my science ally, the right honorable Professor de la Groove, just won't take "no" for an answer. Two days ago, I respectfully declined his voicemail request that I provide security for the archaeological dig he's heading up off the coast of India's Mahabalipuram (link goes to the Washington Post).

This morning, I was awakened by two heavily armed thugs who, shall we say, more forcefully expressed the Professor's desire. So I'll be leaving with them shortly -- just as soon as I complete this entry and finish packing. Reports to come, no doubt.

Best,

i must regretfully decline

Good to see you again, pals o' mine. It's me, The Haiku Master... and am I ever tired!

Upon returning home after the successful completion of my latest epic adventure, I had to go rescue my next door neighbor's dog, who was once again stuck in a tree. Then, Old Man Pinkerton across the street needed a hand cleaning out his storm gutters, which led to the Widow Finklebaum pressing me into service as a weed-puller. Finally, with dusk approaching, I was free to go back to my top secret base of operations.

After a sumptious dinner consisting of what the French call "le sausage pizza," I considered hitting the sack...but instead gave in to the siren call of a marathon session of Halo 2. By the time the last Covenant was broken and final Flood dammed, it was nearly 6 in the morning -- well past my normal bedtime, to say the least.

Fortunately, The Haiku Master is ruled by no schedule, and was qualmless about sleeping the day away if needed. My plans were soon undone, though...for my other next door neighbor, the dastardly Mr. Heem, had chosen that very day to have his new swimming pool installed! The construction noise proved to be too much and I soon gave up on slumber, resigning myself instead to mind-numbing daytime television.

So here I am, exhausted beyond belief and eagerly awaiting tonight's well-earned rest. And that's why I'm going to have to beg off from my good friend, the right honorable Professor de la Groove, and his request.

The Professor left me a message while I was in Singapore, and it turns out he's been placed in charge of the archaeological dig surrounding the lost city that was revealed off the coast of Tamil Nadu by the Boxing Day Tsunami (link goes to that bastion of Kiwi journalism, the New Zealand Herald). He said some weird things have been happening at the camp, and that he wanted me to come provide security. Which is certainly a shrewd decision on his part, but frankly, having just gotten back from my reunion with the Adventure Team, I can't be bothered.

I might make it out there eventually, but for now I'm going to suggest he give Flaming Carrot or the Guardian Angels a call. I need a break.

Best,