Randal Telk and the 396 Steps to Sexual Bliss (4 page)

“
With goodwill.
I do you a favor, you do me a favor.
It may take years, but someday I will collect that favor.
You remember that, young man.
You, Czerinski, Elena, the whole Legion will owe me big time.
Understand?
”

“
Whatever,
”
answered Telk, still not impressed by the New Corporate Mafia.
Telk would run things differently if he ran the Mob.
Obviously the real Mafia never got past Mars.

Thoughts of how he would run things if he were in charge started the inevitable path to another fantasy...

* * * * *

Mafia capo Don Randal Telklione rose from humble beginnings to lord over the most powerful crime family in history.
Telklione made his bones in the family
’
s early days as the mastermind behind ostrich racing and fighting.
Dwarfs riding on the backs of ostriches went viral overnight, propelling Telklione to intergalactic power and prestige, and pushing out the old guard Gambini family.
It was the perfect racket.
Dwarfs were inexpensive and easily replaced.
Retired
ostriches tasted just like chicken.
Speaking of chicken, Telklione always counted his chickens before they hatched, because they always d
id
.

Telklione was not a happy capo.
What good was great wealth and power without a worthy queen to share his empire, to pass on his legacy?
Of course Telklione could have his choice of women.
He was gentle with women, yet some fainted at his mere touch.
Still, there was no one special.
No one measured up until he met Yolanda, president of the Audubon Society, and militant bird lover.
Ostriches
were
considered birds.
Who knew?

Telklione was bench pressing his usual
four-hundred-twenty-five
pounds, wearing only gym shorts and gold chains, when
Yolanda
burst into his office to protest Ostrich Happy Meals.

They say opposites attract.
Telklione didn’t heed such platitudes until he found th
is
one to be true.
Yolanda detested
his
exploitation of ostriches, but
instantly fell in love with him. Love
at first sight
– another platitude Telklione took no stock in until personally faced with the reality
.

Telklione was just as struck by the stunning Yolanda
as she seemed to be with him
.
Without a word, he drew Yolanda to his chest, nibbling on her neck, beginning the
three-hundred-ninety-six
steps to sexual bliss.
Resistance would be futile, as would all that nonsense about ostriches being birds.
They
were probably really
lizards or something.

Five hours and sixteen minutes later, Don Randal Telklione
realized he had
met his match.
Fine!
No harm would ever come to another ostrich.

Yolanda
admired his
Telklione
’
s eyes, one green and the other brown.
She said she
had heard
his
eyes changed colors during sex, and she
proclaimed it to be true. She
even taught the great Telklione a move or two.
They were eternally bonded in love, talent, and business, selling off all the ostriches and dwarfs to build a casino empire that spanned the galaxy.
Bird sanctuaries were built adjacent to each casino for kids to play while their parents gambled.
Only beef and fish were featured at the buffet.

* * * * *

“
Are you listening to me young man?
”
asked Jimmy
the Neck
.
“
We will do all we can to return Elena safely.
You are part of my family now.
”

“
Whatever.
”

Chapter 5

Private Telk believed all of life
’
s challenges had a purpose.
Each test buil
t
character, making
an individual
stronger.
Elena
’
s ordeal only strengthened Telk
’
s resolve, and her rescue would bind their love for eternity.

Telk studied his comrades as they patrolled the DMZ fence line.
In spite
of
what Jimmy
the Neck
claimed, the Legion was Telk
’
s family and the only people who really cared about Elena.
Even the stoic Corporal Wayne, the biggest baddest spider in the Legion, cared for Elena.

Telk knew that Jimmy
the Neck
’
s phony promises were just another test, a temptation to cross over to the Dark Side.
The Mafia only cared about itself, and Telk was not joining.
Jimmy
the Neck
would one day demand Telk betray the Legion, betray his family.
Telk
’
s refusal would make Jimmy
the Neck
an enemy.
Having enemies was the ultimate test.
Having enemies show
ed
the world you have stood for something in your life, that you ha
d
character.
Not having enemies just makes you a character.

Telk had always been a fence-sitter.
Not any more.
He could feel the change.
Still not particularly courageous, Telk had become courageous enough to slap Guido
’
s dragon Spot.
He had been courageous enough to shoot a suicide bomber, and had a Hero of the Legion medal to prove it.
Telk was determined to be courageous enough to save Elena.
Each step was a building block, a step preparing Telk for his showdown with the monstrous Fist and Claw.
He dreamed of courageous deeds.
..

* * * * *

From the very beginning
,
life was a struggle for Randal Telk to survive.
Born a crack-baby, Telk had to cut his own umbilical cord.
Orphaned, Telk was raised by urban coyotes,
and
each day
became
a challenge to find food.
One day the leader of the pack decided to eat baby Telk.
The gnarly coyote loomed over
Telk, then a
helpless three
-
year
-
old, about to tear off his head.
With lightning speed, Telk garroted the old dog with plastic six pack rings from a case of discarded Outlaw Beer.
Telk ate that old dog, only tossing a few scraps to the rest of the starving pack.

That day was a turning point, a test.
Telk grew up mean.
His mad-dog stare could blow out a candle.
Telk showed no weakness, for to do so only provided openings for his enemies.
Enemies were everywhere.

Detroit was filled with zombies, but they were a wily lot, hiding in the shadows, stalking at night, disguised as drunks and vagrants.
Telk
’
s first kill was at age four, when a closet zombie disguised as a stuffed animal toy attacked without warning.
Telk
’
s Romanian instincts saved him, impaling the flesh
-
craving beast with a tire iron, smashing its head with a trash can.
Telk put the boot to
z
ombie-
b
oy for good measure.
He pimp
-
slapped the bitch, too.
Another test passed.

Noticing a gypsy palm reading shop, Telk entered to warn the old crone psychic about all the zombies in the neighborhood.
Sensing Telk
’
s Slavic ancestry, the gypsy took a special interest in the young boy.
“
I see fun, travel, and adventure in your future,
”
advised the gypsy, tracing Telk
’
s amazing lifeline.
“
But be careful of bugs!
They
’
re everywhere, invisible, crawling on your skin!
”
The gypsy let go to scratch at her arms and clothing.
She was a bit twitchy this early in the morning.

Telk always had an unnatural deathly fear and hatred of insects and spiders, a product of his trash
-
bin crib.
A roach scurried past, but Telk deftly stomped it.
“
What else do you see, old woman?
”

“
You will someday cross the stars, and marry a beauty named Yolanda.
”

“
I
’
m finally going to get laid?
”
asked Telk hopefully.

“
First, you must pass a test.
You will travel to the Bermuda Triangle and bring me back a souvenir.
”

“
What souvenir?
”

“
Oh, any old thing.
Maybe a nice
tee-shirt
, hat, glass jewelry, local art, wind chimes, perfume, candles, sun glasses, or beach accessories.
Surprise me.
I love black rum cakes.
Maybe you could sneak some dynamite Bermuda weed past Customs?
”

Another test.
Telk brought the gypsy weed, but it wasn
’
t from the Bermuda Triangle.
It was from Lafayette Boulevard in downtown Detroit.
Still, Telk
’
s life drifted without purpose.
There was no fun, travel, or adventure as promised, only the hardship of the streets.
Then, Telk
’
s
life
irrevocably changed.

“
Good morning fine sir,
”
greeted the United States Galactic Federation Foreign Legion recruitment ATM, in front of Cadillac Center.
“
A fine day it is indeed.
Need money for more weed?
You
’
ve come to the right source.
I am the last ATM you will ever need.
”

“
No way,
”
scoffed Telk, incredulously.
“
Why would I want to leave Detroit?
”

“
Your country needs you on the Frontier,
”
answered the ATM.
“
Have you no sense of higher purpose?
We will soon be at war with the Arthropodan Empire.
The Legion needs you to fight off the spider horde.
”

“
I get paid to kill bugs?
”

“
As many as you want.
Just place your thumb on the glass pad to confirm identification, fine sir.
”

Another test.
“
I
’
ll do it!
”

* * * * *

Private Telk returned to what appeared to be reality. He quickly realized his latest psychotic fantasy mirrored the current reality pretty closely.
Fighting spider terrorists gave
him
an intimate lesson about power and who wields it.
The United States Galactic Federation was the most powerful nation in the galaxy, yet Fist and Claw terrorists were able to strike soft targets at will.
Kidnapping legionnaires was nothing to them.

The President and Congress on Old Earth could order the Fist and Claw destroyed, but only boots on the ground could do it.
Private Telk and his comrades were those boots on the ground, trudging along
the
DMZ fence line in stifling heat.
In spite of all the powerful Legion resources and weapons systems, Telk did not feel all that powerful.
He could not target the Fist and Claw because the Fist and Claw could not be located.
The cowards refused to fight a fair fight.