please come to the airport - large nameless quiet friend

�7##�*~"�(y(y(y(y(y(�J(�(�(�(� (� (�(��)}x(�)� **T**~(y*T*2"*T*T*~*T*T*T*T*T*TTy Gravl�s day was going fine. He got home, ate dinner, watched TV, washed his dishes, tickled the dog, and went out for a walk. When he got back there was a message on his machine. It said, �O I miss you. Please come to the AIRPORT and pick me up.� Not thinking for a minute that he would refuse, though it occured to him on some level of rationality (a place where the air is thin and reedy, and few trees grow) that maybe he should, he whipped on a casual but fine looking suit, and gunned it to his car. His dog went in the closet to be safe from the firecrackers; it was THAT time of year when you can�t tell if there�s a war going on or what. (There was, but you couldn�t quite tell� yet.) So Ty drove, blithe as a civilian, through the rickety rusty streets of town, up the ramp to the highway, and made that smooth interpenetration that is so like well-lubricated sex, so like hyperspace, so unreal and famous, driving a car smoothly up the ramp and onto the nearly empty highway at an odd hour in the night. He drove. He stared ahead, and drove, his stomach getting lighter and his head getting greener, until he thought he might vibrate right out of his seat, through the molecules of the car, and become bodiless in the vast inky blackness of the Interstate. But he didn�t, quite; he just farted a few times and pulled into the coily-swirly maze of the airport. He found her gate, and parked near it. O, the exquisite nature of that diad of words: �her gate��he could almost make love to it, suckingly, like wine, like honey between her toes, licked off in the summer while one side of her lip curls up in an incredulous grin. He pulled into the parking space thrumming like a bent guitar string, and ambled across to the terminal. As soon as he approached the place he knew her sandaled feet would soon be, he knew something was wrong. Maybe it was the six or seven guys in grey suits, all coming up to him, grimacing. Ty�s noble lip formed a cute little frown, and then the leader of the greysuits aimed a little crossbow at him, and fired a seven-inch long dart through his heart. Ty died. *** �This time around, gentlemen, we have technology on our side. And it is as cool and blue as the finest steel.� �Ah, Commander,� said a dissident voice, �steel isn�t really blue, sir, when you look at it�� I stared at him icily. I thought about what to do to him. One must do something to dissidents, unless one is prepared to undergo a long and technical campaign to allow them to make fools of themselves, and this technique sometimes backfires. I decided to dress him down a little, in front of his buddies. �DISSIDENT!� I shrieked. �WHAT IS YOUR NAME!� �Ah, King, Sir,� he reported, looking duly stiff about the collar, trying not to be too obvious as he glanced around the room. The other lackeys and hang-dogs did their best to ignore him, sort of the way one nobly does one�s best not to stare at the breasts of a beautiful, plump, long, sensuously soft girl in the co-ed whirlpool in the executive spa. At least I think it�s sort of like that. �KING!� I RASPED. (I KNOW I�M REALLY GETTING WORKED UP WHEN EVEN MY NON-DIALOG BITS ARE IN ALL CAPS.) �WHY DON�T YOU COME OVER HERE AND SUCK MY DICK!� �Sir?� he asked, obviously quite surprised. I had never dressed anyone down in QUITE THIS MANNER before. �I SAID,� I SAID� �Good Lord, I know, I heard you!� he ejaculated. �I don�t need to hear you say it again. It�s just, it�s just, it�s just�� JUST WHAT?� I DEMANDED, WRIGGLING MY HIPS A LITTLE, HOOKING A THUMB INTO MY BELT. Pleasingly, he started to crack. He shuffled uncertainly nearer, his black Oxfords rubbing the carpet like a dog�s dick rubs jeans. Just as he bent his knees in front of me, sweating like a seventh-grader, I emitted a cackling howl, and said, �AH FORGET IT, I�LL JUST KILL YOU.� And I aimed a bent finger at him and went �UHNG!� and he keeled over, his face suddenly erupting in flames like a careless marshmallow, and when he was done kicking and writhing and screaming, he lay still and smoked. �ANYONE ELSE WANNA�� I paused. What had he done to provoke all this nonsense? I couldn�t quite remember� �DO WHAT HE DID?� No one did. �So, as I was saying,� I continued, while the HOTBOTS� cleaned the gooey bastard�s remains, �We can now get on with the matter at hand, only this time around we have technology on our side.� The new guy was brought in. He had a puzzled expression on his face, somewhere between love-struck, terror-stricken, and just plain confused. He had the usual bloody wound from the poison dart in the middle of his chest. �Ty Gravl, I assume,� I greeted him from behind my podium. �Why don�t you come out from behind that podium mister,� he growled, with, I had to admit, a lot of pluck. I noticed all my slaves and whipped-pussies wincing; evidently they thought I was going to dress this Mister Gravl down. Fools. They ought to know by now that only insiders get dressed down. Not the real people, not the agents, not the inductees. �Why don�t I not,� I said. Then it was that this Ty Gravl guy tried to work some magic on me ha ha. He wriggled his wrists, he angled his head, he said some cant, he went �UNGH,� and thrust with his hips�but�nothing happened of course. I was stronger than he. �Ha ha,� I said. �One thing I want to know, though,� he said, getting ahold of himself. I cocked an eyebrow accomodatingly. �Why did you have to use HER to lure me into this?� �Oh is THAT what�s got you all sour!� I exclaimed, feigning hospitable relief. �Well not to worry, she really does miss you, she really was at the airport�in fact�SHE�S DEAD TOO!� Whereupon I rang the bell and she came out from behind a curtain. From her lip hung one of the picayune cigarettes I�d gotten her hooked on while we�d been lovers, or more accurately fuckers. She looked trashy, sultry, ragged, whorish, and perfectly beautiful as always. She was wearing a faded pink gown. �Hey Ty,� she said. I had fucked her just minutes before this meeting, and I wondered how my semen felt dribbling slowly out of her, into her, through her, wherever it was ending up. Ty, to his credit, didn�t fall on his knees or start jabbering or anything. But he did, poor dear, look flabbergasted and the love-struck element of his expression sort of took over and became pretty much all of his face and then some. Good thing I�m not the jealous sort. Of course I knew she�d never really go back to him, not after what I had touched in her. �Come here you fuck,� she said to Ty. He went there. They hugged, a little too long but not quite long enough if you know what I mean. There is that hug threshold, you know�they were trembling upon its very lip, but did not slide over. Not this time. Perhaps never. I didn�t care; it wasn�t my problem. It was time to explain to Ty what his job was. I made a long story short because I wanted to go to bed with HER and fuck some more. �You have to help us fight a war,� I said. �Fuck you,� he said. �But I can be very persuasive.� �I�m sure you can, but fuck you all the same.� �Now, we�re not going to degenerate into seventh-grade taunt-lyrics here,� I admonished. �Fuck you!� he repeated. THIS was the great TY GRAVL I had heard so much about? Holder, unbeknownst to himself in the other world, of secret knowledge which would be even more potent in the weird world of the dead? The dead world of the weird? Gaunt, noble, powerful, sweet, masterful, quirky, original, quickwitted TY GRAVL, and all he could say was Fuck You? �Fuck you!� he said again. This time with a smile. Then he was gone. Dammitall, I don�t know how he did it. I can say that. I don�t mind telling you that he schtonkered me fair and square. There was this puff of smoke and a loud bang, a muffled scream that sounded faintly erotic (everything sounds faintly erotic to a fucked-up hypersensate megalomaniacal warmonger like myself), and then he�AND THE GIRL�were gone. Well, just as well. He didn�t know how well I�d fucked her over. Wouldn�t he be shocked when he found her panty stains were the color and scent of ME!!!!! Oh yes, she would help me bring him back in, like a squirming guppie, I knew she would. I tapped the tabletop with my long, icy fingernail. I was not worried. The smoke still hung in the air. It had been a very smoky day. I got out a cigar. One of the slackjawed shitheels at my counsel table coughed, very politely, into his hand when I lit up. I swiveled my head around at about 80 miles an hour, and stabbed my gaze into his quivering pools of eyes. �WHAT WAS TH�� NOTHING!!!� he screamed, even before I was finished demanding. I love it when they do that. It�s so dramatic. I took two steps toward him. �YOU,� I pronounced, �ARE ABOUT TO DIE. AND THE TRULY HORRIBLE PART�� He wiggled. He jiggled. He broke wind. 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