Everything is kewl now.

Pals of Primates has been contacted. They're sending a van to the docks later this morning with certified monkey handlers. The Port Authority was given an anonymous tip concerning the spurious activities of a certain vessel which I suspect will lead to its seizure and impoundment.

I considered calling The Houston Police Department and filing kidnapping and assault charges. Against Anita. But I decided not to do it because of some unpaid traffic violations that are attributed to me but not my fault.

Anita hasn't stopped talking since I got behind the wheel. She's so wrapped up in her own version of things that she hasn't noticed I'm speaking into a microphone and relaying our conversation to an AXM satelite which is orbiting the planet. But then you know that.

So now I'm driving lickity-split back to Argos Bar and Grill Sailors Welcome to drop off my sea hag. I told her I needed a little peace. Here, let me divert the receptor:

. . . had no idea that Bull was watching me. Benjamin, you are driving like a maniac. Where are we going? Where are you taking me? Probably some cheap nearby motel, for God only knows what vile purposes. Look, there's one on the corner.

    Dream on.

Last night was very traumatic for me, Benjamin. Having The Argos invaded like that by common hoods! Well, Anita Kokinapus knows how to deal with riff-raff thank you very much. It was all Bull's fault, the oaf. Did I tell you the depraved things he did to my body? Even I was disgusted. You see we met for coctails at three yesterday afternoon . . .

My car screeches to a halt. I have to practically shove Anita's fat ass out of the vehicle to get her to stop talking. But even that doesn't work. So I'm speeding away. And in the rearview mirror I can see Anita's arms flailing, her mouth open, skirt and blouse flapping like old flags in the wind. But I don't care, not one bit. I have new destinations on my mind.




           ... and to bed!