Post by Deleted on Jun 11, 2014 17:35:54 GMT -5
There was a rift. Bobby Cairo felt it. Hearts and minds had been disconnected, rendered comatose. Ambitions had been committed to the dirt, tread upon by scoundrels. That was the Pantheon factor. That was the reality of Wrestling Championship Federation in twenty-fourteen. Some people claimed to be innocent bystanders when it all went down. They claimed to have never seen it coming. They claimed that they never thought Pantheon had it in them to reformulate and recommence their campaign of tyranny upon WCF. These people swore up and down that if they could have seen it coming then they would have stopped it.
Bobby Cairo did not care to hear their stories. Not on this day. Not in this picturesque landscape where the flora flourished as far as the eyes could see. Bobby Cairo did not care to hear their lies and distortions. Still they lied. Still they distorted facts that were as plain to see as the clear, blue Poon Guinea sky. They tried to think on their feet, deception bearing the brunt of their pleas. They scrambled to protect their own backsides. They begged for mercy. They pleaded for leniency. They were not bound. They could run. They could hop up and down for all of their might and scream at the top of their lungs to their heart's content. They could drop to their knees at The Godfather's feet and attempt to suckle the thickness. They could do whatever they pleased in their final fleeting moments upon this earth.
Bobby Cairo did not care. He did not care for their machinations and manipulations. Their fate had been sealed. It had been their decision to tread upon the path of the scoundrel. In an instant, Bobby Cairo unholstered his Glock and fired a round into each of their skulls quicker than their mind's eyes could process the act. The rift was closing. The traitors had paid for their sins. They had sold their country down the river for thirty pieces of silver and The Godfather himself had exacted his vengeance upon their skulls. Fare thee well down the River Styx, sinners. No coins for your eyelids today. This would be their epitaph.
The Poon Guinea sun shone upon Bobby Cairo's person in the land where the murder lay. His tailored suit rippled in the slight wind. Bobby Cairo smiled. An uprising was building. Bobby Cairo knew it. It seemed to shake his bones and fill him with a strange kind of wisdom, a wholly galvanizing force. At the tender age of thirty-one, Bobby Cairo was leading a country. At the tender age of thirty-one, Bobby Cairo was leading a global revolution. The people spoke of it in fantastical terms. "Cairo is our savior! Cairo will lead us to the Promised Land! Cairo will strike down upon Pantheon with unrelenting fury!" They were right.
The bodies at Bobby Cairo's feet were of no concern to him. They would provide sustenance for the majestic wildlife that populated the tropical Poon Guinea terrain. His conscience bore no scars from his actions. This was state's business, state's affairs. Bobby Cairo did not leave his dirty work to his underlings, those functionaries who collected modest government salaries for performing an honest bureaucrat's work. The scoundrels had betrayed their country. Now they would give themselves back to it. Their flesh and bone would feed the animals and the soil. The traitors would make their penance even after their earthly essence had expired.
Bobby Cairo holstered his weapon. He no longer had a need for it. The threat had been expunged, removed from The Godfather's country in short order. The fedora atop his cranium shielded Cairo's eyes from the bright sun. He set his gaze upon the only witness to his thick brand of justice.
"Do you know why I brought you here today?" The Godfather queried to the young man in the neatly pressed suit who had become something of a right hand asset to him. The young man's name was Ludwig Aartz, an Austrian emigrant to Poon Guinea who had taken residence in the fledgling communist nation after The Great Thickness Revolution of 2013. The Thousand Thick-ni Army's coup against Poon Guinea's former leader King Jimmy Dean had created a great many opportunities for the young, go-getter types that sought a career in government. Ludwig Aartz was the most ambitious of those young go-getters.
Ludwig cast his eyes upon the stack of warm bodies that his leader had disposed of moments earlier. He had never before witnessed murder in the flesh. Not in all of his years of schooling. Certainly not in his capacity as an administrative functionary. His rise to influence within Cairo's administration was based upon his studious and reasoned tact, not his penchant for bloodshed. Poon Guinea was a different breed of animal than Austria. Ludwig Aartz knew that now. He had witnessed it in the flesh.
Ludwig comported himself as best as a functionary turned assistant possibly could, considering the circumstances, before he replied to The Godfather's query. "My Governor, if I were to hazard a guess, I would suppose that you wished me to witness a calamitous end to once prosperous life."
Cairo sidled toward Ludwig, his eyes locked on his underling, his cool veneer hiding a mind that was racing with the possibilities of vengeance and revolution, the uprising. "These men were traitors to our great and powerful nation, Ludwig. They were Flydophiles."
Ludwig's eyebrows creased. 'Flydophiles'. The term was foreign to his lexicon. How could he have come to this momentous event unprepared for The Godfather's lecture? This was unlike him. He attempted to obscure his dismay by nodding his head as if he precisely understood that which Cairo was pontificating about.
Cairo whipped his silk scarf around his neck and glared toward the deceased. "How could they have sold us out like that, Ludwig? Such proud communists they were, or so they presented themselves as being. Can you believe it? I hardly can. I handpicked these men for government positions. I smashed their wives' poon. Fine poon it was."
The Godfather's rant had piqued Ludwig's interest. He dared interject. "Sir, if I may hazard a query?"
The Godfather turned his glance toward Ludwig. "You're in a hazardous mood today, aren't you, my dear friend?" The Godfather laughed and slapped his hand upon Ludwig's shoulder.
Ludwig felt uneasy about the exchange, but he pressed forward with his query. "What exactly did these men do?"
Cairo immediately straightened his posture to an upright and erect position. Any sense of easygoing nature about him dissipated just as suddenly. "These men held capitalist dealings with an American plutocrat named Jonny Fly. You know of him, I am certain. I have spent many nights lamenting his existence to you, my First Lady, and my entire cabinet, for that matter."
Ludwig nodded his head whilst listening to The Godfather's monologue and observing his uneasy posture. Ludwig was a studious young man. That was one reason why he had become a rising star in The Godfather's administration.
"You may feel as though I have exercised excessive means of punishment today, Ludwig, but I can assure you that these traitors, these scoundrels, these dirty, rotten, capitalist sellouts have earned their just desserts. Pigs. Pigs they are!"
Cairo stamped his feet and gritted his teeth. He snarled towards the bodies of the deceased with a calculated outrage. Cairo was putting on a show for his minion, though his disdain was palpable. It painted his facade in the pastels of the sun. Cairo continued his diatribe.
"The Pantheon Plague must not be allowed to infect Poon Guinea. I will not stand for it, and do you know why, Ludwig? This land- this land is hallowed land. It is the land where our descendants shall spawn our progeny and fulfill our proudest dreams of legacy and ambition, uncurtailed by capitalist heathens. These men, these pigs concocted a capitalist scheme to transact business with Jonny Fly, to undermine our national sovereignty, to create a monopoly hold on the Poon Guinea snack food sector."
A proverbial lightbulb had been switched on above Ludwig's head. A memory had been triggered. He scoured his brain while recollecting any number of Cairo's fireside rants against Fly and Pantheon. He carefully proffered his next observation. "Sir, is this matter related to Mister Fly's famous proclivity for Hot Fries?"
Cairo grimly nodded his head. He kicked at the dirt beneath his feet in a halfhearted protest toward Fly's perceived intrusion into his nation's economic matters. "Indeed. 'Hot Fries'. Our greatest national treasure. Aside from the poon. And the blow. And the Popeyes chicken and biscuits. Fly is the worst of the worst, Ludwig. Our economic system is fragile, you understand. We are a nascent republic. We are strong," Ludwig nodded his head as Cairo attempted to assert Poon Guinea's strength in an earnest tone and plaintive demeanor. "Yet we cannot grow if these outside influences are able to take hold within our borders. Such actions run contrary to our will, our law, our very nature."
Bobby spat a bout of phlegm upon the soil. "It is outright sabotage. This is why America, my land of birth, is inferior to Poon Guinea. They allow the hierarchy of subterfuge and corruption to reign free and clear while the working class suffers. The masses are subservient to the few. Does that strike you as being a fair system, Ludwig?"
Cairo glared at Ludwig, silently though forcefully demanding that his underling affirm his beliefs. Ludwig understood his role in this pantomime and he responded accordingly. "My Governor, it is clear to me that in disposing of these traitors you have acted in our great and powerful nation's very best interests, as you always have. You are a selfless and generous leader."
Cairo nodded in concurrence, his face emotionless. "You are wise beyond your years, Ludwig. Of course, this extreme brand of justice shall always be a last resort. Murder is... unpleasant, unseemly, undignified. Yet there are those rare occasions when it is positively necessary. And when such circumstances arise I shall never hesitate to do that which is in our great and powerful nation's very best interests. Treason is not a crime that we should ever overlook. These men understood what they were getting themselves into when they accepted their respective positions within our government construct."
Cairo cricked his neck from side to side, producing a voluminous series of pops and snaps. He eased his shoulders as this occurred and appeared to relax. "Furthermore, they understood that their betrayal would not go unpunished once detected. They gambled their futures and, in fact, their lives whilst colluding with Jonny Fly. They chased the Yankee dollar. I ask you, Ludwig, why is that Yankee dollar regarded in more prestigious terms than our Poon Guinea ruble?"
Ludwig wet his lips with his tongue. He gazed at the bodies of the pronounced 'traitors' and shuddered on the inside, while outwardly maintaining a posture of adherence to Cairo's strict doctrine. "As near as I can ascertain, sir, theirs was a gambit to obtain wealth that they had neither earned nor deserved. Such is the so-called 'American way'."
Cairo nodded his head approvingly. Ludwig was certainly impressing The Godfather with his diligence on this day. "You are correct, Ludwig. Such is... the 'American way'. Why work for your spoils when you can undermine your fellow man and become wealthy beyond your wildest dreams? But such wealth is a farce. What did these men reap for their treasonous labors? Bullets. Bullets to the skull. A brutal death upon the canvas of a beautiful landscape. A poetic tragedy. Our kangaroos and wallabies comport themselves with a far greater dignity. Therein lies the hidden tragedy. Those truly deserving, those truly worthy of a better life, a more stable and fruitful existence, are inevitably those who suffer from the gluttonous actions of the scheming few. I spit on these traitors. I spit on these cowards and I spit on Jonny Fly. This man Fly- do you know what he does, Ludwig?"
Ludwig did not reply. He simply stared at The Godfather, awaiting further tidbits of wisdom. Cairo complied with his wishes. "This man Fly tramples upon the weak. Tramples upon the meek. He tramples upon the proletariat without a care in the world. He exploits the females of our species. Can you conceive of such heresies, Ludwig?"
Ludwig vehemently shook his head to the contrary. Cairo continued his diatribe. "I know that you cannot, Ludwig. You are an innocent boy from a proud nation. You would never take advantage of wives, mothers, sisters, daughters. It is against your nature, as it is against mine. Fly has no moral compass. His modus operandi is that of self-appeasement. Jonny Fly epitomizes everything that is wrong with America's 'Me First' culture. The man destroys the lives of innocents without a second thought, without so much as a moment of contemplation as to the consequences of his actions."
Cairo took a seat upon the hood of his 1974 Cadillac Eldorado, his most fondly cherished material possession, known to him as 'Tina Machina'. Cairo gazed to the dirt beneath his feet. Ludwig wondered what Cairo was pondering in those quiet moments, though he did not dare intrude upon The Godfather's thoughts. Cairo would enlighten him in due time.
"This is why it is insufficient for me to simply kill the traitors to Poon Guinea, Ludwig. I must kill the source of the corruption."
Ludwig's eyes grew wide. He fumbled for his words before replying to Cairo's murderous declaration. "My Governor, are you going to kill Jonny Fly as you have killed these traitors?"
A bead of sweat rolled down Cairo's forehead. The breeze rippled through his clothes again, blessed his mortal coil. He gazed at Ludwig, eyes distant, paralyzing amid the bluest shade of blue. The Godfather's body language appeared languid, almost mournful. Cairo took a deep breath of the cleanest air that modern man shall ever breathe before he replied to Ludwig.
"One does not simply kill Jonny Fly, my dear friend. Such notions are fanciful and misguided, the aimless daydreams of wayward children. How should that look upon the international nightly news? 'Poon Guinea leader Robert H. Cairo murders gangland heavyweight Jonny Fly'?"
Cairo snorted his disdain, choked upon it like so much spoiled meats and cheeses. He adjoined his comments with further enlightenment. "An esteemed leader such as I does not ply his trade in these undignified acts, Ludwig. My vengeance upon Jonny Fly shall be extolled under the guise of grappling combat. It is there where I shall strike at Fly. You must understand, Ludwig, Fly is not a man such as you and I. He has no true identity other than the image that he projects upon international media. For all intents and purposes, his in-ring persona is who he is. By defeating Fly inside of the ring I will be staining his very soul."
Ludwig promptly retorts. "Sir, with all due respect, you are a Hall of Famer. You are a former World, Television and Tag Team Champion within the realm of professional wrestling. You have vacated championships that other men have strived for their entire careers to attain, unsuccessfully I might add, simply because... you were bored numb by the lack of competition. Your credentials inside of the ring, much like your credentials in leading our great and powerful nation, are unquestionable."
Cairo nodded his head following each superlative that Ludwig sounded off. "All of this is true, Ludwig. And with all due respect to you, my dear friend, do you have a point or are you simply stroking The Godfather's immense thickness?"
"My point, sir- my point is that there is hardly any shame to be engendered from being defeated by you inside of the ring. You are a technical wizard, a five-star ring general, a marvel of the squared circle. You have attained the rarefied status of 'living legend'. While so many other greats of the squared circle have become parodies of their former selves by overstaying their welcome and falling to the new flesh, you remain as vital and vigilant as ever. Surely a defeat at your hands would fail to cripple Jonny Fly's heretical empire?"
Cairo squarely nodded his head and gazed toward the setting sun. He marveled at the pastels of orange, yellow, purple and pink that emerged upon the horizon. The Godfather pontificated. "Every man's dusk is another man's dawn, Ludwig. Every word that you have stated is true, yet your conclusion is askew. There is no shame in being defeated by Bobby Cairo inside of the squared circle. Not only is this far from a shameful act, but it is the expected outcome for any opponent who sets foot into the ring with your esteemed leader. However, Jonny Fly is a special breed of egoist."
Cairo outstretched his arms, seemingly encompassing the whole of the world within the circumference of his hands as he elaborated upon his theory.
"At no other point in my life have I encountered a braggadocious miscreant the likes of Jonny Fly. This man would insist that his very ability to breathe places him at a higher standard than all others who would inhabit the earth. Think about it, Ludwig. You and I breathe in and out, breathing this wholly unpolluted Poon Guinea air, as if it were an involuntary bodily function. And for us it is so. Yet for a man such as Jonny Fly, each and every breath is a much ballyhooed victory, a symbol of his superiority, for in his mind he breathes far better than any other. The ego, Ludwig, The ego that this man possesses is unmatched. He believes-"
Cairo began to choke with laughter. This gesture unnerved Ludwig, who believed that his leader might be suffering from an unwarranted bodily assault, perhaps a stroke or a heart attack. Cairo would quickly set Ludwig's mind at ease with his following dispatch.
"He believes, Ludwig, that his victories inside of the wrestling ring are evidence of his superiority over all other men. Can you imagine a grown man professing such childish notions, my dear friend? Here I am, running a country, spearheading a revolution, advancing the causes of peace, justice and liberty for every man, woman and child under my enclave, and Fly believes that World Championship title reigns in the Wrestling Championship Federation place him on a higher plateau than yours truly, a higher plateau than all other men who should walk the earth.
"It is mental masturbation, Ludwig. It is mental masturbation by a man who is so truly insecure in his sense of self that he grasps at straws to justify his empty existence, his unfulfilled life. Hot Fries, Ludwig. Hot Fries and skanks. Hot Fries, skanks and Trios Cup trophies. These are the emblems of purported greatness that justify Fly's existence. Think about that. Think about everything that Jonny Fly holds in the highest esteem. Think about grappling combat inside of the squared circle, Ludwig. Think about what a simple defeat inside of the ring means to Fly. Defeat is death in Jonny Fly's world, just as defeat was death for these men that I brought to justice here today. Defeat was death for them because they schemed as Jonny Fly schemed.
"These traitors," Cairo gestured with his hand toward the bodies of the deceased. "These traitors abandoned any sense of loyalty that they may have once held dear. They abandoned any concept of principle and integrity that they may have once known, all in the pursuit of faux glory, Jonny Fly glory. They lived lives of little consequence, and for most of their lives they existed as honorable men, but in the telling hours they abandoned such notions of honor. As such, their demons were exorcised at the barrel of my Glock.
"I will not have to murder Jonny Fly to exact my vengeance as I murdered these men, Ludwig. I will not have to murder Jonny Fly via such methods, because for Jonny Fly defeat will serve as its own form of death. Defeat will hang around his neck as the rotting, stinking albatross that he can never shake. Fly has built his heretical empire upon a foundation of accomplishment inside of the ring. When I shatter his delusions of infallibility inside of that same ring, his empire will come crumbling down. Unlike the Roman Pantheon, Jonny Fly's Pantheon shall not stand the test of time."
Cairo nodded his head in a triumphant fashion, punctuating his remarks. He set his gaze upon the setting sun once again, observing the natural beauty of the picturesque scene.
Ludwig lightly massaged his forehead with his hand, his mannerisms terse and curt. He could not shake the gruesome images of Bobby Cairo's Poon Guinean brand of 'justice' that he had earlier witnessed. "My Governor, what of these traitors? What shall we tell their families?"
Cairo gazed at his underling while stroking his neatly kempt, revolutionary style beard. He replied in a calm and even tone that suggested he had already sifted through the scenario in his brain. "I do not wish to cause the families of these traitors any additional harm, Ludwig. They have lost husbands, fathers, brothers and sons. The perpetual feeling of loss and longing that they will endure shall be pain enough. We will not tell them that their loved ones were traitors to their country, executed at The Godfather's right hand. We will not suffer them through such unbearable indignity, my dear friend. Nor should we wish to create a panic among the greater public by informing them that their compatriots schemed with a heathen such as Fly to undermine our great and powerful nation's economic stability."
Cairo pushed himself off of the hood of his vehicle and approached Ludwig. They stood eye to eye, though the diminutive Ludwig stood several inches shorter than his leader. Ludwig gulped ever so slightly as the towering Cairo stared into his eyes and availed his intentions.
"This is why we shall tell them all a little white lie, Ludwig. It is in our great and powerful nation's best interests. Do you understand that?"
Ludwig eagerly nodded his head as Cairo continued to stare him in the eyes. Cairo never blinked, never flinched. Cairo maintained a calm and comported demeanor, though Ludwig knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that the gears that grinded inside of Cairo's brain could crush his miniscule Austrian frame if The Godfather willed it so.
Finally, Cairo relented. He turned his back to Ludwig and started toward his car, placing a hand upon the hood. He seemed to muse his next words to no one in particular, though Ludwig understood that they were directed at him.
"For official purposes, it will be made public that these men perished in battle against a fleet of ruthless capitalist mercantiles. Their bodies were lost at sea, doubtful to ever be recovered. They will be honored with a modest state memorial and awarded medals of the lowest merit. Their story will be obfuscated from state media as expediently as possible. It is far more than they deserve, though we must protect the integrity of our system."
Ludwig hesitated to interject, though interject he did as he believed that his next point was a vitally important one. "Sir, there will surely be skepticism if not outright disbelief regarding the official explanation for their disappearance. These men were not soldiers. They were not armed combatants who served in our nation's defense. They were administrative functionaries. They wore suits and ties. Their toil was waged in offices, not on battlefields."
Cairo turned his body so that he was facing Ludwig, standing approximately ten feet away from him. Ludwig suspected that Cairo might run to tackle him, pummel him for questioning The Godfather's wisdom. However, Cairo did nothing of the sort. Cairo simply smiled at Ludwig. Cairo smiled at Ludwig like the cat that ate the canary. Then he retorted.
"That's what makes it a perfect cover story, Ludwig. Oh, they will smell something fishy. Indeed, they will. They will smell something fishy, but they won't truly question the official story. They won't question it because they will want it to be true, Ludwig. They will want to believe that their family members, their friends, their loved ones, their compatriots died under a wholly honorable set of circumstances. They will accept the lie because the truth will be too horrible for them to bear. Do you understand, Ludwig?"
Ludwig did not respond. Cairo could sense that his assistant was feeling uneasy about the matter. The Godfather approached Ludwig, placed his hand on the man's shoulder in a consoling gesture, and did his best to put Ludwig's mind at ease.
"They will believe it, Ludwig. They will know that it's a lie, just as my First Lady knows that it's a lie when I tell her that I've never received lip service from the Vanessa Hudgens or the Sasha Grey. Do you want to know something, Ludwig? My First Lady loves the way I lie and so will they. They will love it and they will believe it, because the lie will be far easier for them to digest than the truth."
Ludwig nodded his head whilst espousing a grim expression upon his face. Suddenly, a muffled version of the Austrian national anthem began to play. It was a ringtone. It was the ringtone on Ludwig's cellphone. Ludwig creased his brow and reached into his pocket to access his phone. He flashed an apologetic nod toward Cairo before checking the phone number on the screen and answering the call.
"Yes? What is it? I'm in the midst of a very important meeting with our esteemed leader."
Ludwig listened to the reply from the party on the other end of the line. As Ludwig did so, his mouth grew agape. He nearly dropped his phone. Cairo stared at Ludwig with a quizzical manner about him. The Godfather peered at his assistant as if demanding an explanation from him.
Ludwig pushed the 'end call' button on the screen of his phone and looked at Cairo. Ludwig's features were drawn and his complexion had grown pale. He appeared sickly. The Godfather questioned Ludwig. "My dear friend, what is the matter? You look as though you've seen a ghost."
"My Governor, I-I do not know how to tell you this-"
"Well then blurt it out, Ludwig. I do not have time to waste. I must make preparations for my trip to Thailand, where I shall wage war against Jonny Fly and his Pantheon cronies under the banner of XIII."
"That's just it, sir. I have received word from our state department that- well, it appears that Jonny Fly is injured and will be unable to compete at XIII."
Now it was Cairo's turn to become drawn, pale and sickly, mouth agape, eyes bulged in disbelief. The Godfather recoiled. His arms and legs went akimbo. He staggered about like a drunkard before collapsing onto the hood of his car. Ludwig rushed to The Godfather's side and attempted to assist him.
"My Governor! Are you alright? Do you require medical assistance?"
Cairo thrashed upon the hood of his car as Ludwig struggled to restrain him. Finally, after several moments of this fruitless exercise had come to pass, Cairo slid from the hood. He slid all the way down to the face of the earth, raw soil staining his custom attire. Cairo appeared despondent. His eyes stared upward, stared past the face of his assistant, stared straight toward the Heavens above. Cairo could not fathom his misfortune. He could not fathom the sordid hand that fate had dealt him.
The Godfather sighed. He closed his eyes. He queried to the wrestling gods in a hushed tone that approached a whisper.
"Now who's gonna suck my dick?"
Bobby Cairo did not care to hear their stories. Not on this day. Not in this picturesque landscape where the flora flourished as far as the eyes could see. Bobby Cairo did not care to hear their lies and distortions. Still they lied. Still they distorted facts that were as plain to see as the clear, blue Poon Guinea sky. They tried to think on their feet, deception bearing the brunt of their pleas. They scrambled to protect their own backsides. They begged for mercy. They pleaded for leniency. They were not bound. They could run. They could hop up and down for all of their might and scream at the top of their lungs to their heart's content. They could drop to their knees at The Godfather's feet and attempt to suckle the thickness. They could do whatever they pleased in their final fleeting moments upon this earth.
Bobby Cairo did not care. He did not care for their machinations and manipulations. Their fate had been sealed. It had been their decision to tread upon the path of the scoundrel. In an instant, Bobby Cairo unholstered his Glock and fired a round into each of their skulls quicker than their mind's eyes could process the act. The rift was closing. The traitors had paid for their sins. They had sold their country down the river for thirty pieces of silver and The Godfather himself had exacted his vengeance upon their skulls. Fare thee well down the River Styx, sinners. No coins for your eyelids today. This would be their epitaph.
The Poon Guinea sun shone upon Bobby Cairo's person in the land where the murder lay. His tailored suit rippled in the slight wind. Bobby Cairo smiled. An uprising was building. Bobby Cairo knew it. It seemed to shake his bones and fill him with a strange kind of wisdom, a wholly galvanizing force. At the tender age of thirty-one, Bobby Cairo was leading a country. At the tender age of thirty-one, Bobby Cairo was leading a global revolution. The people spoke of it in fantastical terms. "Cairo is our savior! Cairo will lead us to the Promised Land! Cairo will strike down upon Pantheon with unrelenting fury!" They were right.
The bodies at Bobby Cairo's feet were of no concern to him. They would provide sustenance for the majestic wildlife that populated the tropical Poon Guinea terrain. His conscience bore no scars from his actions. This was state's business, state's affairs. Bobby Cairo did not leave his dirty work to his underlings, those functionaries who collected modest government salaries for performing an honest bureaucrat's work. The scoundrels had betrayed their country. Now they would give themselves back to it. Their flesh and bone would feed the animals and the soil. The traitors would make their penance even after their earthly essence had expired.
Bobby Cairo holstered his weapon. He no longer had a need for it. The threat had been expunged, removed from The Godfather's country in short order. The fedora atop his cranium shielded Cairo's eyes from the bright sun. He set his gaze upon the only witness to his thick brand of justice.
"Do you know why I brought you here today?" The Godfather queried to the young man in the neatly pressed suit who had become something of a right hand asset to him. The young man's name was Ludwig Aartz, an Austrian emigrant to Poon Guinea who had taken residence in the fledgling communist nation after The Great Thickness Revolution of 2013. The Thousand Thick-ni Army's coup against Poon Guinea's former leader King Jimmy Dean had created a great many opportunities for the young, go-getter types that sought a career in government. Ludwig Aartz was the most ambitious of those young go-getters.
Ludwig cast his eyes upon the stack of warm bodies that his leader had disposed of moments earlier. He had never before witnessed murder in the flesh. Not in all of his years of schooling. Certainly not in his capacity as an administrative functionary. His rise to influence within Cairo's administration was based upon his studious and reasoned tact, not his penchant for bloodshed. Poon Guinea was a different breed of animal than Austria. Ludwig Aartz knew that now. He had witnessed it in the flesh.
Ludwig comported himself as best as a functionary turned assistant possibly could, considering the circumstances, before he replied to The Godfather's query. "My Governor, if I were to hazard a guess, I would suppose that you wished me to witness a calamitous end to once prosperous life."
Cairo sidled toward Ludwig, his eyes locked on his underling, his cool veneer hiding a mind that was racing with the possibilities of vengeance and revolution, the uprising. "These men were traitors to our great and powerful nation, Ludwig. They were Flydophiles."
Ludwig's eyebrows creased. 'Flydophiles'. The term was foreign to his lexicon. How could he have come to this momentous event unprepared for The Godfather's lecture? This was unlike him. He attempted to obscure his dismay by nodding his head as if he precisely understood that which Cairo was pontificating about.
Cairo whipped his silk scarf around his neck and glared toward the deceased. "How could they have sold us out like that, Ludwig? Such proud communists they were, or so they presented themselves as being. Can you believe it? I hardly can. I handpicked these men for government positions. I smashed their wives' poon. Fine poon it was."
The Godfather's rant had piqued Ludwig's interest. He dared interject. "Sir, if I may hazard a query?"
The Godfather turned his glance toward Ludwig. "You're in a hazardous mood today, aren't you, my dear friend?" The Godfather laughed and slapped his hand upon Ludwig's shoulder.
Ludwig felt uneasy about the exchange, but he pressed forward with his query. "What exactly did these men do?"
Cairo immediately straightened his posture to an upright and erect position. Any sense of easygoing nature about him dissipated just as suddenly. "These men held capitalist dealings with an American plutocrat named Jonny Fly. You know of him, I am certain. I have spent many nights lamenting his existence to you, my First Lady, and my entire cabinet, for that matter."
Ludwig nodded his head whilst listening to The Godfather's monologue and observing his uneasy posture. Ludwig was a studious young man. That was one reason why he had become a rising star in The Godfather's administration.
"You may feel as though I have exercised excessive means of punishment today, Ludwig, but I can assure you that these traitors, these scoundrels, these dirty, rotten, capitalist sellouts have earned their just desserts. Pigs. Pigs they are!"
Cairo stamped his feet and gritted his teeth. He snarled towards the bodies of the deceased with a calculated outrage. Cairo was putting on a show for his minion, though his disdain was palpable. It painted his facade in the pastels of the sun. Cairo continued his diatribe.
"The Pantheon Plague must not be allowed to infect Poon Guinea. I will not stand for it, and do you know why, Ludwig? This land- this land is hallowed land. It is the land where our descendants shall spawn our progeny and fulfill our proudest dreams of legacy and ambition, uncurtailed by capitalist heathens. These men, these pigs concocted a capitalist scheme to transact business with Jonny Fly, to undermine our national sovereignty, to create a monopoly hold on the Poon Guinea snack food sector."
A proverbial lightbulb had been switched on above Ludwig's head. A memory had been triggered. He scoured his brain while recollecting any number of Cairo's fireside rants against Fly and Pantheon. He carefully proffered his next observation. "Sir, is this matter related to Mister Fly's famous proclivity for Hot Fries?"
Cairo grimly nodded his head. He kicked at the dirt beneath his feet in a halfhearted protest toward Fly's perceived intrusion into his nation's economic matters. "Indeed. 'Hot Fries'. Our greatest national treasure. Aside from the poon. And the blow. And the Popeyes chicken and biscuits. Fly is the worst of the worst, Ludwig. Our economic system is fragile, you understand. We are a nascent republic. We are strong," Ludwig nodded his head as Cairo attempted to assert Poon Guinea's strength in an earnest tone and plaintive demeanor. "Yet we cannot grow if these outside influences are able to take hold within our borders. Such actions run contrary to our will, our law, our very nature."
Bobby spat a bout of phlegm upon the soil. "It is outright sabotage. This is why America, my land of birth, is inferior to Poon Guinea. They allow the hierarchy of subterfuge and corruption to reign free and clear while the working class suffers. The masses are subservient to the few. Does that strike you as being a fair system, Ludwig?"
Cairo glared at Ludwig, silently though forcefully demanding that his underling affirm his beliefs. Ludwig understood his role in this pantomime and he responded accordingly. "My Governor, it is clear to me that in disposing of these traitors you have acted in our great and powerful nation's very best interests, as you always have. You are a selfless and generous leader."
Cairo nodded in concurrence, his face emotionless. "You are wise beyond your years, Ludwig. Of course, this extreme brand of justice shall always be a last resort. Murder is... unpleasant, unseemly, undignified. Yet there are those rare occasions when it is positively necessary. And when such circumstances arise I shall never hesitate to do that which is in our great and powerful nation's very best interests. Treason is not a crime that we should ever overlook. These men understood what they were getting themselves into when they accepted their respective positions within our government construct."
Cairo cricked his neck from side to side, producing a voluminous series of pops and snaps. He eased his shoulders as this occurred and appeared to relax. "Furthermore, they understood that their betrayal would not go unpunished once detected. They gambled their futures and, in fact, their lives whilst colluding with Jonny Fly. They chased the Yankee dollar. I ask you, Ludwig, why is that Yankee dollar regarded in more prestigious terms than our Poon Guinea ruble?"
Ludwig wet his lips with his tongue. He gazed at the bodies of the pronounced 'traitors' and shuddered on the inside, while outwardly maintaining a posture of adherence to Cairo's strict doctrine. "As near as I can ascertain, sir, theirs was a gambit to obtain wealth that they had neither earned nor deserved. Such is the so-called 'American way'."
Cairo nodded his head approvingly. Ludwig was certainly impressing The Godfather with his diligence on this day. "You are correct, Ludwig. Such is... the 'American way'. Why work for your spoils when you can undermine your fellow man and become wealthy beyond your wildest dreams? But such wealth is a farce. What did these men reap for their treasonous labors? Bullets. Bullets to the skull. A brutal death upon the canvas of a beautiful landscape. A poetic tragedy. Our kangaroos and wallabies comport themselves with a far greater dignity. Therein lies the hidden tragedy. Those truly deserving, those truly worthy of a better life, a more stable and fruitful existence, are inevitably those who suffer from the gluttonous actions of the scheming few. I spit on these traitors. I spit on these cowards and I spit on Jonny Fly. This man Fly- do you know what he does, Ludwig?"
Ludwig did not reply. He simply stared at The Godfather, awaiting further tidbits of wisdom. Cairo complied with his wishes. "This man Fly tramples upon the weak. Tramples upon the meek. He tramples upon the proletariat without a care in the world. He exploits the females of our species. Can you conceive of such heresies, Ludwig?"
Ludwig vehemently shook his head to the contrary. Cairo continued his diatribe. "I know that you cannot, Ludwig. You are an innocent boy from a proud nation. You would never take advantage of wives, mothers, sisters, daughters. It is against your nature, as it is against mine. Fly has no moral compass. His modus operandi is that of self-appeasement. Jonny Fly epitomizes everything that is wrong with America's 'Me First' culture. The man destroys the lives of innocents without a second thought, without so much as a moment of contemplation as to the consequences of his actions."
Cairo took a seat upon the hood of his 1974 Cadillac Eldorado, his most fondly cherished material possession, known to him as 'Tina Machina'. Cairo gazed to the dirt beneath his feet. Ludwig wondered what Cairo was pondering in those quiet moments, though he did not dare intrude upon The Godfather's thoughts. Cairo would enlighten him in due time.
"This is why it is insufficient for me to simply kill the traitors to Poon Guinea, Ludwig. I must kill the source of the corruption."
Ludwig's eyes grew wide. He fumbled for his words before replying to Cairo's murderous declaration. "My Governor, are you going to kill Jonny Fly as you have killed these traitors?"
A bead of sweat rolled down Cairo's forehead. The breeze rippled through his clothes again, blessed his mortal coil. He gazed at Ludwig, eyes distant, paralyzing amid the bluest shade of blue. The Godfather's body language appeared languid, almost mournful. Cairo took a deep breath of the cleanest air that modern man shall ever breathe before he replied to Ludwig.
"One does not simply kill Jonny Fly, my dear friend. Such notions are fanciful and misguided, the aimless daydreams of wayward children. How should that look upon the international nightly news? 'Poon Guinea leader Robert H. Cairo murders gangland heavyweight Jonny Fly'?"
Cairo snorted his disdain, choked upon it like so much spoiled meats and cheeses. He adjoined his comments with further enlightenment. "An esteemed leader such as I does not ply his trade in these undignified acts, Ludwig. My vengeance upon Jonny Fly shall be extolled under the guise of grappling combat. It is there where I shall strike at Fly. You must understand, Ludwig, Fly is not a man such as you and I. He has no true identity other than the image that he projects upon international media. For all intents and purposes, his in-ring persona is who he is. By defeating Fly inside of the ring I will be staining his very soul."
Ludwig promptly retorts. "Sir, with all due respect, you are a Hall of Famer. You are a former World, Television and Tag Team Champion within the realm of professional wrestling. You have vacated championships that other men have strived for their entire careers to attain, unsuccessfully I might add, simply because... you were bored numb by the lack of competition. Your credentials inside of the ring, much like your credentials in leading our great and powerful nation, are unquestionable."
Cairo nodded his head following each superlative that Ludwig sounded off. "All of this is true, Ludwig. And with all due respect to you, my dear friend, do you have a point or are you simply stroking The Godfather's immense thickness?"
"My point, sir- my point is that there is hardly any shame to be engendered from being defeated by you inside of the ring. You are a technical wizard, a five-star ring general, a marvel of the squared circle. You have attained the rarefied status of 'living legend'. While so many other greats of the squared circle have become parodies of their former selves by overstaying their welcome and falling to the new flesh, you remain as vital and vigilant as ever. Surely a defeat at your hands would fail to cripple Jonny Fly's heretical empire?"
Cairo squarely nodded his head and gazed toward the setting sun. He marveled at the pastels of orange, yellow, purple and pink that emerged upon the horizon. The Godfather pontificated. "Every man's dusk is another man's dawn, Ludwig. Every word that you have stated is true, yet your conclusion is askew. There is no shame in being defeated by Bobby Cairo inside of the squared circle. Not only is this far from a shameful act, but it is the expected outcome for any opponent who sets foot into the ring with your esteemed leader. However, Jonny Fly is a special breed of egoist."
Cairo outstretched his arms, seemingly encompassing the whole of the world within the circumference of his hands as he elaborated upon his theory.
"At no other point in my life have I encountered a braggadocious miscreant the likes of Jonny Fly. This man would insist that his very ability to breathe places him at a higher standard than all others who would inhabit the earth. Think about it, Ludwig. You and I breathe in and out, breathing this wholly unpolluted Poon Guinea air, as if it were an involuntary bodily function. And for us it is so. Yet for a man such as Jonny Fly, each and every breath is a much ballyhooed victory, a symbol of his superiority, for in his mind he breathes far better than any other. The ego, Ludwig, The ego that this man possesses is unmatched. He believes-"
Cairo began to choke with laughter. This gesture unnerved Ludwig, who believed that his leader might be suffering from an unwarranted bodily assault, perhaps a stroke or a heart attack. Cairo would quickly set Ludwig's mind at ease with his following dispatch.
"He believes, Ludwig, that his victories inside of the wrestling ring are evidence of his superiority over all other men. Can you imagine a grown man professing such childish notions, my dear friend? Here I am, running a country, spearheading a revolution, advancing the causes of peace, justice and liberty for every man, woman and child under my enclave, and Fly believes that World Championship title reigns in the Wrestling Championship Federation place him on a higher plateau than yours truly, a higher plateau than all other men who should walk the earth.
"It is mental masturbation, Ludwig. It is mental masturbation by a man who is so truly insecure in his sense of self that he grasps at straws to justify his empty existence, his unfulfilled life. Hot Fries, Ludwig. Hot Fries and skanks. Hot Fries, skanks and Trios Cup trophies. These are the emblems of purported greatness that justify Fly's existence. Think about that. Think about everything that Jonny Fly holds in the highest esteem. Think about grappling combat inside of the squared circle, Ludwig. Think about what a simple defeat inside of the ring means to Fly. Defeat is death in Jonny Fly's world, just as defeat was death for these men that I brought to justice here today. Defeat was death for them because they schemed as Jonny Fly schemed.
"These traitors," Cairo gestured with his hand toward the bodies of the deceased. "These traitors abandoned any sense of loyalty that they may have once held dear. They abandoned any concept of principle and integrity that they may have once known, all in the pursuit of faux glory, Jonny Fly glory. They lived lives of little consequence, and for most of their lives they existed as honorable men, but in the telling hours they abandoned such notions of honor. As such, their demons were exorcised at the barrel of my Glock.
"I will not have to murder Jonny Fly to exact my vengeance as I murdered these men, Ludwig. I will not have to murder Jonny Fly via such methods, because for Jonny Fly defeat will serve as its own form of death. Defeat will hang around his neck as the rotting, stinking albatross that he can never shake. Fly has built his heretical empire upon a foundation of accomplishment inside of the ring. When I shatter his delusions of infallibility inside of that same ring, his empire will come crumbling down. Unlike the Roman Pantheon, Jonny Fly's Pantheon shall not stand the test of time."
Cairo nodded his head in a triumphant fashion, punctuating his remarks. He set his gaze upon the setting sun once again, observing the natural beauty of the picturesque scene.
Ludwig lightly massaged his forehead with his hand, his mannerisms terse and curt. He could not shake the gruesome images of Bobby Cairo's Poon Guinean brand of 'justice' that he had earlier witnessed. "My Governor, what of these traitors? What shall we tell their families?"
Cairo gazed at his underling while stroking his neatly kempt, revolutionary style beard. He replied in a calm and even tone that suggested he had already sifted through the scenario in his brain. "I do not wish to cause the families of these traitors any additional harm, Ludwig. They have lost husbands, fathers, brothers and sons. The perpetual feeling of loss and longing that they will endure shall be pain enough. We will not tell them that their loved ones were traitors to their country, executed at The Godfather's right hand. We will not suffer them through such unbearable indignity, my dear friend. Nor should we wish to create a panic among the greater public by informing them that their compatriots schemed with a heathen such as Fly to undermine our great and powerful nation's economic stability."
Cairo pushed himself off of the hood of his vehicle and approached Ludwig. They stood eye to eye, though the diminutive Ludwig stood several inches shorter than his leader. Ludwig gulped ever so slightly as the towering Cairo stared into his eyes and availed his intentions.
"This is why we shall tell them all a little white lie, Ludwig. It is in our great and powerful nation's best interests. Do you understand that?"
Ludwig eagerly nodded his head as Cairo continued to stare him in the eyes. Cairo never blinked, never flinched. Cairo maintained a calm and comported demeanor, though Ludwig knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that the gears that grinded inside of Cairo's brain could crush his miniscule Austrian frame if The Godfather willed it so.
Finally, Cairo relented. He turned his back to Ludwig and started toward his car, placing a hand upon the hood. He seemed to muse his next words to no one in particular, though Ludwig understood that they were directed at him.
"For official purposes, it will be made public that these men perished in battle against a fleet of ruthless capitalist mercantiles. Their bodies were lost at sea, doubtful to ever be recovered. They will be honored with a modest state memorial and awarded medals of the lowest merit. Their story will be obfuscated from state media as expediently as possible. It is far more than they deserve, though we must protect the integrity of our system."
Ludwig hesitated to interject, though interject he did as he believed that his next point was a vitally important one. "Sir, there will surely be skepticism if not outright disbelief regarding the official explanation for their disappearance. These men were not soldiers. They were not armed combatants who served in our nation's defense. They were administrative functionaries. They wore suits and ties. Their toil was waged in offices, not on battlefields."
Cairo turned his body so that he was facing Ludwig, standing approximately ten feet away from him. Ludwig suspected that Cairo might run to tackle him, pummel him for questioning The Godfather's wisdom. However, Cairo did nothing of the sort. Cairo simply smiled at Ludwig. Cairo smiled at Ludwig like the cat that ate the canary. Then he retorted.
"That's what makes it a perfect cover story, Ludwig. Oh, they will smell something fishy. Indeed, they will. They will smell something fishy, but they won't truly question the official story. They won't question it because they will want it to be true, Ludwig. They will want to believe that their family members, their friends, their loved ones, their compatriots died under a wholly honorable set of circumstances. They will accept the lie because the truth will be too horrible for them to bear. Do you understand, Ludwig?"
Ludwig did not respond. Cairo could sense that his assistant was feeling uneasy about the matter. The Godfather approached Ludwig, placed his hand on the man's shoulder in a consoling gesture, and did his best to put Ludwig's mind at ease.
"They will believe it, Ludwig. They will know that it's a lie, just as my First Lady knows that it's a lie when I tell her that I've never received lip service from the Vanessa Hudgens or the Sasha Grey. Do you want to know something, Ludwig? My First Lady loves the way I lie and so will they. They will love it and they will believe it, because the lie will be far easier for them to digest than the truth."
Ludwig nodded his head whilst espousing a grim expression upon his face. Suddenly, a muffled version of the Austrian national anthem began to play. It was a ringtone. It was the ringtone on Ludwig's cellphone. Ludwig creased his brow and reached into his pocket to access his phone. He flashed an apologetic nod toward Cairo before checking the phone number on the screen and answering the call.
"Yes? What is it? I'm in the midst of a very important meeting with our esteemed leader."
Ludwig listened to the reply from the party on the other end of the line. As Ludwig did so, his mouth grew agape. He nearly dropped his phone. Cairo stared at Ludwig with a quizzical manner about him. The Godfather peered at his assistant as if demanding an explanation from him.
Ludwig pushed the 'end call' button on the screen of his phone and looked at Cairo. Ludwig's features were drawn and his complexion had grown pale. He appeared sickly. The Godfather questioned Ludwig. "My dear friend, what is the matter? You look as though you've seen a ghost."
"My Governor, I-I do not know how to tell you this-"
"Well then blurt it out, Ludwig. I do not have time to waste. I must make preparations for my trip to Thailand, where I shall wage war against Jonny Fly and his Pantheon cronies under the banner of XIII."
"That's just it, sir. I have received word from our state department that- well, it appears that Jonny Fly is injured and will be unable to compete at XIII."
Now it was Cairo's turn to become drawn, pale and sickly, mouth agape, eyes bulged in disbelief. The Godfather recoiled. His arms and legs went akimbo. He staggered about like a drunkard before collapsing onto the hood of his car. Ludwig rushed to The Godfather's side and attempted to assist him.
"My Governor! Are you alright? Do you require medical assistance?"
Cairo thrashed upon the hood of his car as Ludwig struggled to restrain him. Finally, after several moments of this fruitless exercise had come to pass, Cairo slid from the hood. He slid all the way down to the face of the earth, raw soil staining his custom attire. Cairo appeared despondent. His eyes stared upward, stared past the face of his assistant, stared straight toward the Heavens above. Cairo could not fathom his misfortune. He could not fathom the sordid hand that fate had dealt him.
The Godfather sighed. He closed his eyes. He queried to the wrestling gods in a hushed tone that approached a whisper.
"Now who's gonna suck my dick?"
