Tales of a Wandering Warlord Part 6: Viva Lost Wages

NOVEMBER 6th, 2006.

Craps is a wonderful game. Especially if you have the power of telekinesis.

"Hey pal," said a burly Pit Boss with a face like Charles Bronson's fist. "You sure won a lotta money tonight."

"Yep," I said as I packed my chips into my bag, "I sure did."

"In fact," continued the Pit Boss, "some might say you were cheating."

"But I'm not cheating," I said in a very calm, possibly hypnotic, tone of voice, "I'm just a happy lucky customer."

"You are not cheating," said the Pit Boss in a possibly hypnotized tone of voice, "you are just a happy lucky customer."

"That's right," I said, "and I think happy lucky customers deserve to be comped the best suite in the hotel."

"You are right," said the Pit Boss, "you are a happy lucky customer, and happy lucky customers deserve to comped the best suite in the hotel."

"Good boy," I told him.

"I am a good boy," said the Pit Boss before heading off to get me my room.

Some days it's really great to have such a large brain.


"Hi there neighbour," said a voice from behind me as I was unlocking the door to my new suite.

I spun around to see none other than Senator Harry Reid in a hawaiian shirt, bermuda shorts, flip flops, and of all things a smile.

"I see you got yourself the Presidential Suite," said Reid, sloshing some of his margarita on the floor. "I only have a Senatorial Suite, but it's not like it's costing me anything. Ha! Say, why don't you join me and some friends of mine for a little party."

"Sure," I answered, having never turned down a free drink in my life.

Senator Reid, led me into his suite and I was gobsmacked. I had never seen so much faux leopard skin in my life.

"I did the decor all myself," said Senator Reid, "why waste money on one of them there design queers."

He then showed me into his living room. There was James Carville, John Kerry, Charlie Rangel, Howard Dean, and Jack Murtha. They were all dressed in hawaiian shirts, except Kerry, who wore a suit and tie.

"Hey boys," said Senator Harry Reid, I'd like you to meet my new neighbour. What's yer name feller?"

"I'm Remulak MoxArgon, Usurper of the Flokian Empire, Lord & Master of the 7 Majestic Galaxies, and slayer of the Tholian War Masters."

"So you are not from around here?" said John Kerry, showing an amazing grasp of the obvious.

"He's one of them there Canadians," said James Carville, nodding his head like a chicken.

"The boys are here for a little strategy session about what they're going to do when we retake Congress." said Harry Reid as he passed me a Tequila sunrise.

"YEEEEAAAAAAHHHHH!" screeched Howard Dean.

"I want to reinstate the draft!" declared Charlie Rangel. "It's the perfect Democratic Party program, nobody wants it, it'll cost a lot of money, and the only thing it will accomplish is the weakening and demoralizing of our military."

"I like it," said Murtha. "It's not like we're fighting a war against a vicious enemy that wants to spread darkness and oppression throughout the world."

"YEEAAAH!!" said Howard Dean.

"Plus," added Rangel, "it'll get all those borderline tards in Red States up and working for a change."

"Lemme tell you what we gotta do," said James Carville between sips of a Lime Rickey. "We really gotta push on the whole 'culture of corruption.'"

"Really?" as
ked Harry Reid, "like my deal where I made a million dollars for land I hadn't owned in three years?"

"Or my involvement with ABScam and rampant pork barrelling?" asked Murtha.

"Or my race baiting," added Rangel, "and my buddy Alcee Hasting's past impeachment for corruption?"

"No!" snapped Carville, "I'm talking about the Republican's corruption! The election's tomorrow, so I want nothing but Foley! FOLEY! FOLEY!"

"The media's on that already." said Kerry.

"YEEEAHHHHH!!" howled Dean.


"What's that sound?" I asked.

"Leaping Lyndon Johnsons!" screeched Harry Reid, "Nancy Pelosi's esca
ped! She's gonna start campaigning again!"

"All right," said Nancy Pelosi, brandishing a bull whip. "Which one of you locked me in the closet! I don't like being in the closet, I'm from San Fransisco!"

"Run away!" sreamed Reid. "Run away!"

I fled Harry Reid's suite and returned to mine. I locked, double bolted the door, and then dragged a couch in front of it.

I then picked up the phone.

"Hello," I said to the pleasant sounding lady at the main desk. "Can you recommend a good travel agent that can get me a ticket to Los Angeles, please. I think I've had enough of Vegas for now."

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