Tuesday, December 20, 2005

Is there a Tom Yest in this class? Fishing, merely fishing...

In 1975, Tom Yest received a book from an unknown publisher. This book revealed the hidden mysteries and secret dealings of a heretofore unknown society. Tom Yest read it cover to cover in one sitting, committing every word to memory. When he was done, he threw the book into the fireplace. Here is the cover of my copy: The Duchamp Code by Don Bleu
Tom Yest destroyed this book not because he couldn't handle the revelations of a truth that burned eternal throughout human history, but because he himself was implicated by the text as a murderer and scoundrel. Plus the moustache on Mona Lisa really pissed him off. He knew at that moment that he would have to hunt down this Mr. Bleu and confront him on the lies his book was to spread across the entire globe. But before he had the opportunity, someone else found Mr. Bleu. Walking across the street in downtown Santiago, an army Jeep sped past a stop sign and through an intersection, knocking Mr. Bleu through the plateglass window of a pet shop, where my wife Lupita la puta and I were picking out a puppy for our one-year-old daughter. I ran to the street to write down the license plate number, but all I could manage to see was 010 before the Jeep sped out of view. If I would've known then what I know now, I would've contacted Tom Yest myself and told him not to come to Santiago. But instead, I picked up the dead man's briefcase, paid for the puppy, and left the pet shop with Lupita la puta in tow before the authorities arrived.

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