Randal Telk and the 396 Steps to Sexual Bliss (8 page)

“
You
’
re on American
satellite
TV,
”
announced Commander Telk.
“
Anything you want to say to the American people before you die?
”

“
You cannot kill me, I am a
g
od.
I have seven thousand nuclear missiles pointed at America and Japan!
”

Commander Telk drew his pearl and ivory handled 44
-
cal
iber
revolver and shot Fat Boy between the eyes, further damaging the carpet.
Telk
wrote out and
tossed a receipt for dry cleaning on the corpse.

* * * * *

The rumble of tank engines brought Private Telk out of his daze.
Private Walter Knight, world
-
famous science
-
fiction writer, wedged in next to Telk by the turret.

“
You have some scary thoughts coursing through your brain,
”
commented Private Knight.
“
Care if I tag along and pick your mind for ideas?
”

“
I heard about you,
”
answered Private Telk.
“
I
’
m not a science
-
fiction fan.
I only read action
-
adventure and porn.
Sci
-
Fi and
f
antasy is comic book stuff.
Star Trek is for geeks and sissies.
”

“
Science fiction uses the future to explore the present,
”
argued Private Knight.
“
There
’
s nothing comic about that.
”

“
I
’
m already looking at the present,
”
replied Telk, spitting out dust.
“
And it looks bleak.
Anyone can write science fiction.
It
’
s no big deal.
Action adventure is where it
’
s at.
Only the tough survive.
Beam that up!
”

“
Whatever.
I
’
m sure there are lessons to learn in both genres.
I listen to everyone around me.
Everyone contributes something to the story.
So will you, unless you die.
Be careful, accidents happen.
Everything in the New Gobi Desert bites, stings, or pokes.
”

“
So I
’
ve been told,
”
lamented Telk, shaking Knight
’
s hand.
“
Tag along, but I don
’
t want to be in any of your science fiction books.
I
’
d rather be in my own book.
”

“
Too late,
”
Knight mumbled as Telk’s mind went on yet another fantasy binge.

* * * * *

Randal Hemingway Telk, world famous action adventure writer, just finished
Two
-
Fisted Death #104
,
For Whom the Fists Toll
.
The mega successful
‘
Fisted Death
’
series was about Bruce Von Schnitch, a CIA secret agent trained in
b
utterfly
-s
tyle Kung Fu.
Bruce used his innovative
b
utterfly
s
tyle to hunt down evil and deliver much needed justice.

However, 104 books
wa
s long enough for any action adventure series, so Telk killed Bruce off in a farming accident.
Bruce fell into a manure pond, taking Doctor Evil with him.
They both died horribly, clawing at the wet clay banks of the manure pond before being viciously pulled under
b
y shit-eating catfish.

After selling fifty million books, Telk tired of the series.
Seeking a new challenge, Telk hoped to create a new hero, someone a bit more real, more human, willing to explore his feminine side.
The
‘
Hammer Fist Death Blow
’
series would feature a sensitive CIA agent who only killed with organic eco-friendly poisons, and voted Democrat most of the time.
James Bland fought evil corporations, environmental polluters, and the evil clutches of Walmart.
Devil worshiping Procter & Gamble employees were targeted for elimination.

* * * * *

Private Telk woke with a start
and looked over to see
Private Knight
beside him,
frantically scribbl
ing
on a notepad.
“
You were talking in your daydream!
”
exclaimed Knight.
“
It was great stuff about a starship captain exploring his feminine side.
I
’
ll call it
Melrose Space
.
Tell me more!
”

“
No!
My story is copyrighted.
It
’
s action adventure, not science fiction.
Leave me alone!
”

A sniper
’
s bullet pinged o
f
f the turret as the tank lurched to the side.
Private Knight was off the tank in a heartbeat
,
taking cover.
Corporal Wayne snagged Private Telk with a claw, dragging him to cover as a second round glanced off the armor where Telk
had
sat a moment earlier.

The tank
’
s Battle Management System pinpointed the approximate location of the sniper by using acoustic processing sensor technology.
An optical scanner scope searched for heat, movement, and color inconsistencies, locating the spider insurgent crouched behind a rock outcropping.
Magnifying the target, the tank commander loosed a burst of 50
-
cal rounds.
Red mist and exoskeleton parts splattered the rocks.
Another spider panicked and ran, but was easily dispatched by a second burst.
The tank turret swiveled, searching for more targets, but none were found.

“
God damn I wish I
’d
had one of these beautiful tanks back in the day!
”
shouted Captain Patton, giving the
one-finger
ed salute to the ridge line.
“
I could have whipped both the Nazis and the Commies with just one tank!
”

Telk, suffering heat exhaustion that only exacerbated his psychosis, fell into another fantasy phase...

* * * * *

Sniper Randal
‘
t
he Cobra
’
Telk was the best of the best, the greatest sniper in history.
Snipers
we
re a tough special breed
who had to have their
balls screwed on tight or
their
life expectancy was measured in seconds.
Telk
’
s job was to seek out and kill other snipers,
mano y mano
.
No one worked alone in the field better than Telk.

Telk hunted a vicious Russian sniper known only as the Phantom.
Twice the Phantom had taken a shot at Telk, and twice missed.
The close call grated on both snipers.
Accustomed to one shot
,
one kill, the notorious Phantom stalked Telk incessantly.
Telk sensed the Phantom
’
s frustration.

Through his scope, Telk scanned
potential hiding places in the rubble and burned
-
out buildings of no man
’
s land
. Quickly
Telk located the perfect hide.
Telk had a natural ability to anticipate and identify the enemy
’
s patterns.
The only high vantage point left after the bombings was the sixth floor view from an old burned
-
out bookstore overlooking a wide plaza.
That
’
s where the Phantom must be waiting
, Telk assured himself.

Telk patiently watched through his scope.
Movement in the window!
Telk fired a two round burst, then rolled to cover.
Telk made his way to the stairway, finding a blood trail.
Yes!
The Phantom is mine now!
Telk was determined to take the Phantom alive
if possible
.
He heard
rustling in the next room.
I
’
ll dress the Phantom up in a green suit and bow-tie, and
make him live in my garden!

“
Surrender!
”
ordered Telk, readying a grenade.
“
For you
,
the war is over.
Accept your fate!
”

“
Do not shoot, my worthy adversary!
”
called out a heavily accented female Russian voice.
“
I am yours, do with me as you will!
”

“
Put your hands over your head!
”

Yolanda Olga Romanov
a
was a magnificently tall green
-
eyed beauty of Amazon build.
She limped past the doorway, hands up, bleeding from glass fragments across her face and neck.
She managed a slight smile and a shrug.
“
I know from movies that all Americans are rich and handsome, but I had no idea they were so hot in person,
”
gushed Yolanda.

Telk frisked Yolanda thoroughly for weapons.
Each pat of his hand made Yolanda moan with
excitement.
“
Are you in pain?
”
asked Telk, cupping her breasts.
No knives there, but the search continued down her backside.
“
I have morphine.
”

“
I do not need no stinking morphine,
”
advised Yolanda, pouting.
“
I know of you, Sergeant Telk.
I know of your
three-hundred-ninety-six
steps to sexual bliss.
You will teach me all you know, and Randal
’
s Big Bang Theory, too.
”

“
Risk the Big Bang Theory falling into the hands of the Russians?
”
scoffed Telk, nibbling on Yolanda
’
s neck to remove a shard of glass with his teeth.
Step one complete.
“
No way can I risk that.
You will have to come back to Detroit with me.
”

“
Defect?
”
asked Yolanda as Telk skipped ahead to step
thirty-four
.
“
Yes!
I will defect, and come to America, to your Motorized City!
Take me, my rich handsome American imperialist big dog.
Make me your capitalist bitch.
I want credit cards and community property.
I want to shop at your Walmart.
I want to shave my legs, but most of all, I want that lovely Kentucky Jelly!
”

“
Never heard of Kentucky Jelly,
”
answered Telk, alarmed.
“
What
’
s that?
”

“
Do no try to hold out on me,
”
demanded Yolanda, stomping her foot down hard, pointing to her internet iPhone screen.
“
I did not just fall off your American turnip truck.
”

Sure enough, KY Jelly.
“
As much as you want,
”
promised Telk.
“
Our federal government has an endless supply.
”