Post by Deleted on Jan 6, 2008 16:56:23 GMT -5
Date: Thursday, January 3rd, 2008
Time: 10:17 PM EST
Location: Bobby Cairo's Estate, Hartford, Connecticut
The day after effect is in full effect. Bobby Cairo spent a good portion of Wednesday afternoon and evening studying videotape of Creeping Death and busting his ass at Damien Demento's gym in Long Island. However when Cairo pulled into the driveway of his sprawling Connecticut estate at two o clock Thursday morning, all he could think about was Huckabee and those bastard kids with their fifteen million dollar lawsuit. Cairo tried to fall sleep that night / morning in his plush, comfortable bed, but he certainly wasn't feeling very comfortable. Cairo dreamed nightmares, nightmares of losing everything and being laughed at and mocked. Cairo woke up screaming at five o clock in the morning and he couldn't go back to sleep. Cairo turned the TV on and switched the channel to CNN. Finally, they were done talking about him. Cairo had been pushed out of the headlines to make way for the latest news in Iowa. The caucuses were mere hours away from beginning and speculation was running rampant as to who would prevail for both parties.
Cairo's interest in the caucus was now strictly peripheral. He no longer had a dog in the fight. Cairo's handpicked candidate had rejected his overtures and the media was relentless in hounding Cairo for his right of center beliefs. Cairo sat frozen in his seat for the next sixteen hours. Cairo felt like a man without a country as he watched the news broadcast, the candidates, the anchors and correspondents. Cairo did not answer the door or the phone; he did not make a sandwich or even go to the bathroom. He sat there on the couch waiting, waiting for the results. Cairo did not care about the seemingly deadlocked Democratic caucus. No, Cairo was waiting for the announcement of the GOP winner. Would it be Cairo's former ally and newly sworn enemy Huckabee or would it be Cairo's longtime adversary Romney? The announcement came quickly once the numbers began to pour in. Huckabee had captured the Iowa GOP caucus in a landslide victory.
Cairo sat there in his seat, numb to the touch. He watched as Huckabee gave his victory speech to hundreds of diehard supporters in attendance at his Iowa headquarters and millions across the nation. Cairo was once one of those supporters, but now he watched with dire contempt as Chuck Norris stood by Huckabee's side. Cairo felt sorry for Norris. "He doesn't know what I know," Cairo told himself. Cairo laughed out loud at the hilarity of Walker, Texas Ranger influencing the outcome of an American presidential election. "Is this what I strived to be?" Cairo pondered aloud. Cairo finally realized that the events transpired between him and Huckabee had actually proven beneficial. Cairo knew that the seeds had been planted for his own presidential bid. Cairo finally broke free from his seclusion and phoned all of his friends and all of the media outlets that he could think of. Cairo was ready to declare himself.
Though Cairo was finally over the Huckabee situation, he knew that the Wendy's lawsuit presented a major obstacle. Cairo had to contact those two officers from the Wendy's. They could prove his innocence. He also had to track down the identity of Julio's assailants. Those weren't Cairo's men. No, sir, somebody was trying to frame Cairo. Cairo contacted his best government connections and put them to work. There was a mole working against Cairo and he was determined to uncover that person's identity.
Date: Saturday, January 5th, 2008
Time: 2:46 PM EST
Location: Undisclosed Bunker, Colchester, Connecticut
Cairo's favorite hideout is an undisclosed cabin in the Connecticut woods. Anybody who remembers Coach Hayden Fox's cabin on the TV series Coach will know the type. A solid, old-fashioned cabin constructed primarily of grade-A American lumber with a brick fireplace to keep the place warm and toasty. This is Cairo's home away from home. He doesn't come here often, only when he's hiding from something. That's why the place is loaded with secret compartments stocking rifles and explosives. There's also a hidden passage to a surveillance room with cameras and radar equipment to track all perpetrators, vehicles and aircraft. While the inside of the cabin at least feigns the impression of warmth and comfort to the naked eyed, the outside garners no such illusions. Cairo's cabin is doused in the sort of chicanery and camouflage that one would expect of a Cambodian POW camp. If the authorities wish to find Cairo, they'll have to look long and hard. Cairo himself is dressed in a sort of half-lumberjack / half-hunter motif. Perhaps the highlight of Cairo’s attire is the camouflaged hunting boots of a man who doesn't hunt. Oh, Cairo doesn't hunt in that winter cold, but those helicopters buzzing overhead are certainly hunting for him.
It's not that Cairo has broken any laws, it's just that there are certain secrets, secrets which the government wishes to remain secret. You know the type: sometimes it's wars, sometimes it's UFOs. Other times it's more than meets the eye, a sort of political camouflage. Despite all of this intrigue, Cairo wishes to focus on his most immediate ambition. That ambition constitutes usurping Creeping Death to advance one step closer to the WCF World Title. Inside his mind and body, Cairo feels like a Native American standing outside the teepee, the way they used to build those fires and channel the ancient warrior spirits. As Cairo sits Indian-style near the fireplace, he attempts to channel the spirit of the man they call Creeping Death.
Bobby Cairo: "As I pump my fists and pray to the heavens above, I can summon the spirit of the Ultimate Warrior. I'm a much better wrestler than the Warrior is - at least from a technical standpoint - but I'm not nearly as piery or fassionate. I'm sorry, I'm a little wired up. I meant to say fiery and passionate. Which spirits do you summon, Mr. Death, as you paint your face in girly makeup? Do you fancy yourself a Native American warrior or perhaps even a member of the rock band KISS? You once asked me a long time ago, "Cairo, why do you hold so much disdain for so many people?" Actually, that wasn't you who asked me that. It was my girlfriend Lucy. I told her, "I don't desire compassion for those whom I disdain. I feel what I know; I know what I feel." Those words might fall short as being too vague or perhaps even cliche for most folks, but they make perfect sense to me. Lucy didn't understand the meaning of my words and she was an English teacher. Maybe that was the problem. I wasn't speaking English, I was speaking Cairo. It's kind of like Australian, but a little more ballsy."
Cairo rocks back and forth like a mental patient as Creeping Death's spirit overwhelms his body, appearing as an earthquake of the soul.
Bobby Cairo: "Somewhere, somehow, I know that Creeping Death can hear my words. I should explain something to you, Mr. Death. I am not a man of the cloth, I don't subscribe to wholesale religious theories. However I am a man of the cogs. I know that wheels are in motion. Big wheels, wheels of divinity and swift heavenly justice. Wheels that taste like creamy garlic noodles. Can you taste the noodles, Mr. Death? Because I can. It's the taste of salvation and a whiff of God's gourmet kitchen on high. I implore you to join me in the light of the Lord, Mr. Death. Together we can spread joy, peace and hope to all people. Instead of Creeping Death we could rename you Cuddling Puppies. No, name doesn't work? Well, we'll think of something. The important thing is that you don't betray me like that dastardly bastard Mike Huckabee. I gave my heart and soul to Huckabee's campaign, yet he used me and abused me like so much tarmac on a commercial airport stretch. I don't like being fucked with, Mr. Death. It makes me see red and do bad things to the people. You are one of the people, Mr. Death. That's why I want you to consider my proposal very carefully before you render your decision. It's a decision that will have everlasting consequences, and not just for you, but especially for those close to you."
A wide smile comes across Cairo's face as he holds his hands open in front of the fire, the comfort of warmth now pulsing through his veins.
Bobby Cairo: "As I scanned this clandestine winter retreat, I was left with a prevailing thought. The cold doesn't bother guys like you and I. We've stood face to face with the blackest black and we've knocked it on its ass. The difference is that I have rejected the black and you have embraced it. Tell me, Mr. Death, how does your garden grow in all that darkness? It's time for you to say hello to sunshine, my friend. If you're trying to hide from something, you should be aware of a simple fact: There's nothing in the dark that wasn't there when the lights were on. Conversely, what was there when the lights were on remains there in the dark. If you're running from a wolf or a rattlesnake, don't you think that it helps to see where you're going? I know that sometimes I have dreams like that. In fact I was woken from uneasy sleep just a couple mornings ago. In my sleep I was greeted with a gift from the sewers. That gift was utter urban decay, the defeat of righteousness. It's not something that you can wish into the cornfield, those tall Iowa cornfields. Fields of murder and discontent. Fields of deception, inveiglement and obfuscation. It's no wonder you're such a sad, lonely boy."
Cairo coughs a loud, ugly, phlegmy cough. Cairo digs into his pocket and pulls out a Hall’s menthol drop. Cairo quickly unwraps the cough drop and pops it into his mouth. The menthol action soothes Cairo's throat as thoughts of Creeping Death quickly evaporate from his mind. The whirring of the chopper blades grows louder than before. Have they found Cairo? Has the time for combat arrived? No, they circle overhead one last time before departing for the day. Cairo has dodged another bullet. That cough drop is tasting mighty good right now.
Date: Sunday, January 6th, 2008
Time: 8:29 AM EST
Location: State Capitol Building, Hartford, Connecticut
Cairo is a wanted man. The media wants Cairo, news of his impending presidential run has reached unprecedented heights of hysteria. Still Cairo feels it prudent to wait until the lawsuit is resolved before proceeding. Indeed Cairo's agents of fortune have much work to do before they can clear his good name. Creeping Death wants Cairo, a chance for Creeping Death to right an inconceivable wrong. Death was handed a bad ticket down the Lerch Railways and now he craves vengeance. Cairo is the man who can prevent this from happening. There's one more crucial component in this puzzle. The government wants Cairo, oh those secrets do get hot. Cairo can't catch a nap, can't sleep, can't eat, can't drink and can't fuck. Cairo can barely even breath. Cairo is a fly under glass waiting for the swatter to come down. Cairo knows that he must tread lightly and carry a big stick. How many eyes are watching Cairo? How many are listening?
Cairo has taken a trip to the belly of the beast. Cairo is standing on the front steps of the Connecticut State Capitol Building in Hartford. The building is vacant on this cold Sunday morning, but the people walking the sidewalks and driving the streets are all potential assassins. Where will the bullet come from that catches Cairo in his temple and ends his mission? Cairo is openly daring people to shoot him, gesturing with his hands, screaming like a mad man. From out of the crowd emerges a face, a familiar face, the face of a man that Cairo knows all too well. This man is a government agent named Paul Radin. When Cairo was working out west for Danny Vice's promotion, this man Radin was responsible for kidnapping Cairo and attempting to kill him. Fortunately, Cairo's dear friend Biohazard saved his life, but then Radin and his goons arrested Biohazard and Cairo down in Mexico. The president himself intervened on behalf of Cairo and Biohazard, granting them full presidential pardons. Now it appears that Radin is back in Cairo's life, and Cairo is none too pleased by this development.
Bobby Cairo: "You? It was always you, wasn't it, Radin? The lawsuit, the kids, Biggs, Huckabee, Winona Ryder, it was all you!"
Radin laughs one of those cocky, ultra-confident, smarmy Bill O'Reilly laughs as he approaches Cairo.
Paul Radin: "It's nice to see you too, Cairo. I'm not at liberty to answer your questions, but I'll let you in on a little secret: It was my New Year's resolution to put you out of business, once and for all."
Cairo chokes back his disgust by feigning a chuckle.
Bobby Cairo: "That's funny, Mr. Radin. Me? I don't make resolutions, but if I did I would resolve to get you and Jannetty in the same room and flip the switch."
Radin clears his throat.
Paul Radin: "You're a dreadfully witty nuisance, but a nuisance nonetheless, Mr. Cairo, and we can't have that. This isn't National Treasure and you're not Nicholas Cage. I could have gone with Charlie Wilson's War and Tom Hanks for that analogy, but that movie was horrible."
Bobby Cairo: "Really? I haven't seen it."
Paul Radin: "The point is that you're walking on thin ice, Cairo. The ice is so thin that it's about to crack and then you're gonna fall into a lake of some really bad things... BAD things, Cairo. The only reason why you didn't die last time is because the president pardoned you. You won't be so lucky this time around because we've gone right over the president's head. He doesn't watch WCF, but more importantly I'm working for a group so powerful and so secretive that you can't even begin to imagine."
Bobby Cairo: "The CIA?"
Paul Radin: "Yes... well, I guess that wasn't so difficult to figure out after all."
Bobby Cairo: "Not really. Seemed pretty obvious."
Paul Radin: "Nevertheless, we can make you disappear like you were never there in the first place. Tell me what is your decision, Cairo? Will you drop your campaign of dissent or am I gonna have to drop you?"
Bobby Cairo: "You can't silence the truth, Radin. The American people crave progress and that's not something that can be killed with a bullet to the back of the head."
Paul Radin: "Very well, Cairo, have it your way. I'll be seeing you again real soon and I won't be offering any deals next time."
Radin cracks Cairo over the skull with a blackjack. Cairo falls to the ground, face down on the ice cold granite tile. For the next several hours Cairo will drift in and out of consciousness, all the while the words "Forget it, Cairo. It's Godland." will reverberate in his brain. When Cairo finally regains consciousness he will roll onto his back and see the specter of a beautiful Asian woman staring down at him.
Time: 10:17 PM EST
Location: Bobby Cairo's Estate, Hartford, Connecticut
The day after effect is in full effect. Bobby Cairo spent a good portion of Wednesday afternoon and evening studying videotape of Creeping Death and busting his ass at Damien Demento's gym in Long Island. However when Cairo pulled into the driveway of his sprawling Connecticut estate at two o clock Thursday morning, all he could think about was Huckabee and those bastard kids with their fifteen million dollar lawsuit. Cairo tried to fall sleep that night / morning in his plush, comfortable bed, but he certainly wasn't feeling very comfortable. Cairo dreamed nightmares, nightmares of losing everything and being laughed at and mocked. Cairo woke up screaming at five o clock in the morning and he couldn't go back to sleep. Cairo turned the TV on and switched the channel to CNN. Finally, they were done talking about him. Cairo had been pushed out of the headlines to make way for the latest news in Iowa. The caucuses were mere hours away from beginning and speculation was running rampant as to who would prevail for both parties.
Cairo's interest in the caucus was now strictly peripheral. He no longer had a dog in the fight. Cairo's handpicked candidate had rejected his overtures and the media was relentless in hounding Cairo for his right of center beliefs. Cairo sat frozen in his seat for the next sixteen hours. Cairo felt like a man without a country as he watched the news broadcast, the candidates, the anchors and correspondents. Cairo did not answer the door or the phone; he did not make a sandwich or even go to the bathroom. He sat there on the couch waiting, waiting for the results. Cairo did not care about the seemingly deadlocked Democratic caucus. No, Cairo was waiting for the announcement of the GOP winner. Would it be Cairo's former ally and newly sworn enemy Huckabee or would it be Cairo's longtime adversary Romney? The announcement came quickly once the numbers began to pour in. Huckabee had captured the Iowa GOP caucus in a landslide victory.
Cairo sat there in his seat, numb to the touch. He watched as Huckabee gave his victory speech to hundreds of diehard supporters in attendance at his Iowa headquarters and millions across the nation. Cairo was once one of those supporters, but now he watched with dire contempt as Chuck Norris stood by Huckabee's side. Cairo felt sorry for Norris. "He doesn't know what I know," Cairo told himself. Cairo laughed out loud at the hilarity of Walker, Texas Ranger influencing the outcome of an American presidential election. "Is this what I strived to be?" Cairo pondered aloud. Cairo finally realized that the events transpired between him and Huckabee had actually proven beneficial. Cairo knew that the seeds had been planted for his own presidential bid. Cairo finally broke free from his seclusion and phoned all of his friends and all of the media outlets that he could think of. Cairo was ready to declare himself.
Though Cairo was finally over the Huckabee situation, he knew that the Wendy's lawsuit presented a major obstacle. Cairo had to contact those two officers from the Wendy's. They could prove his innocence. He also had to track down the identity of Julio's assailants. Those weren't Cairo's men. No, sir, somebody was trying to frame Cairo. Cairo contacted his best government connections and put them to work. There was a mole working against Cairo and he was determined to uncover that person's identity.
Date: Saturday, January 5th, 2008
Time: 2:46 PM EST
Location: Undisclosed Bunker, Colchester, Connecticut
Cairo's favorite hideout is an undisclosed cabin in the Connecticut woods. Anybody who remembers Coach Hayden Fox's cabin on the TV series Coach will know the type. A solid, old-fashioned cabin constructed primarily of grade-A American lumber with a brick fireplace to keep the place warm and toasty. This is Cairo's home away from home. He doesn't come here often, only when he's hiding from something. That's why the place is loaded with secret compartments stocking rifles and explosives. There's also a hidden passage to a surveillance room with cameras and radar equipment to track all perpetrators, vehicles and aircraft. While the inside of the cabin at least feigns the impression of warmth and comfort to the naked eyed, the outside garners no such illusions. Cairo's cabin is doused in the sort of chicanery and camouflage that one would expect of a Cambodian POW camp. If the authorities wish to find Cairo, they'll have to look long and hard. Cairo himself is dressed in a sort of half-lumberjack / half-hunter motif. Perhaps the highlight of Cairo’s attire is the camouflaged hunting boots of a man who doesn't hunt. Oh, Cairo doesn't hunt in that winter cold, but those helicopters buzzing overhead are certainly hunting for him.
It's not that Cairo has broken any laws, it's just that there are certain secrets, secrets which the government wishes to remain secret. You know the type: sometimes it's wars, sometimes it's UFOs. Other times it's more than meets the eye, a sort of political camouflage. Despite all of this intrigue, Cairo wishes to focus on his most immediate ambition. That ambition constitutes usurping Creeping Death to advance one step closer to the WCF World Title. Inside his mind and body, Cairo feels like a Native American standing outside the teepee, the way they used to build those fires and channel the ancient warrior spirits. As Cairo sits Indian-style near the fireplace, he attempts to channel the spirit of the man they call Creeping Death.
Bobby Cairo: "As I pump my fists and pray to the heavens above, I can summon the spirit of the Ultimate Warrior. I'm a much better wrestler than the Warrior is - at least from a technical standpoint - but I'm not nearly as piery or fassionate. I'm sorry, I'm a little wired up. I meant to say fiery and passionate. Which spirits do you summon, Mr. Death, as you paint your face in girly makeup? Do you fancy yourself a Native American warrior or perhaps even a member of the rock band KISS? You once asked me a long time ago, "Cairo, why do you hold so much disdain for so many people?" Actually, that wasn't you who asked me that. It was my girlfriend Lucy. I told her, "I don't desire compassion for those whom I disdain. I feel what I know; I know what I feel." Those words might fall short as being too vague or perhaps even cliche for most folks, but they make perfect sense to me. Lucy didn't understand the meaning of my words and she was an English teacher. Maybe that was the problem. I wasn't speaking English, I was speaking Cairo. It's kind of like Australian, but a little more ballsy."
Cairo rocks back and forth like a mental patient as Creeping Death's spirit overwhelms his body, appearing as an earthquake of the soul.
Bobby Cairo: "Somewhere, somehow, I know that Creeping Death can hear my words. I should explain something to you, Mr. Death. I am not a man of the cloth, I don't subscribe to wholesale religious theories. However I am a man of the cogs. I know that wheels are in motion. Big wheels, wheels of divinity and swift heavenly justice. Wheels that taste like creamy garlic noodles. Can you taste the noodles, Mr. Death? Because I can. It's the taste of salvation and a whiff of God's gourmet kitchen on high. I implore you to join me in the light of the Lord, Mr. Death. Together we can spread joy, peace and hope to all people. Instead of Creeping Death we could rename you Cuddling Puppies. No, name doesn't work? Well, we'll think of something. The important thing is that you don't betray me like that dastardly bastard Mike Huckabee. I gave my heart and soul to Huckabee's campaign, yet he used me and abused me like so much tarmac on a commercial airport stretch. I don't like being fucked with, Mr. Death. It makes me see red and do bad things to the people. You are one of the people, Mr. Death. That's why I want you to consider my proposal very carefully before you render your decision. It's a decision that will have everlasting consequences, and not just for you, but especially for those close to you."
A wide smile comes across Cairo's face as he holds his hands open in front of the fire, the comfort of warmth now pulsing through his veins.
Bobby Cairo: "As I scanned this clandestine winter retreat, I was left with a prevailing thought. The cold doesn't bother guys like you and I. We've stood face to face with the blackest black and we've knocked it on its ass. The difference is that I have rejected the black and you have embraced it. Tell me, Mr. Death, how does your garden grow in all that darkness? It's time for you to say hello to sunshine, my friend. If you're trying to hide from something, you should be aware of a simple fact: There's nothing in the dark that wasn't there when the lights were on. Conversely, what was there when the lights were on remains there in the dark. If you're running from a wolf or a rattlesnake, don't you think that it helps to see where you're going? I know that sometimes I have dreams like that. In fact I was woken from uneasy sleep just a couple mornings ago. In my sleep I was greeted with a gift from the sewers. That gift was utter urban decay, the defeat of righteousness. It's not something that you can wish into the cornfield, those tall Iowa cornfields. Fields of murder and discontent. Fields of deception, inveiglement and obfuscation. It's no wonder you're such a sad, lonely boy."
Cairo coughs a loud, ugly, phlegmy cough. Cairo digs into his pocket and pulls out a Hall’s menthol drop. Cairo quickly unwraps the cough drop and pops it into his mouth. The menthol action soothes Cairo's throat as thoughts of Creeping Death quickly evaporate from his mind. The whirring of the chopper blades grows louder than before. Have they found Cairo? Has the time for combat arrived? No, they circle overhead one last time before departing for the day. Cairo has dodged another bullet. That cough drop is tasting mighty good right now.
Date: Sunday, January 6th, 2008
Time: 8:29 AM EST
Location: State Capitol Building, Hartford, Connecticut
Cairo is a wanted man. The media wants Cairo, news of his impending presidential run has reached unprecedented heights of hysteria. Still Cairo feels it prudent to wait until the lawsuit is resolved before proceeding. Indeed Cairo's agents of fortune have much work to do before they can clear his good name. Creeping Death wants Cairo, a chance for Creeping Death to right an inconceivable wrong. Death was handed a bad ticket down the Lerch Railways and now he craves vengeance. Cairo is the man who can prevent this from happening. There's one more crucial component in this puzzle. The government wants Cairo, oh those secrets do get hot. Cairo can't catch a nap, can't sleep, can't eat, can't drink and can't fuck. Cairo can barely even breath. Cairo is a fly under glass waiting for the swatter to come down. Cairo knows that he must tread lightly and carry a big stick. How many eyes are watching Cairo? How many are listening?
Cairo has taken a trip to the belly of the beast. Cairo is standing on the front steps of the Connecticut State Capitol Building in Hartford. The building is vacant on this cold Sunday morning, but the people walking the sidewalks and driving the streets are all potential assassins. Where will the bullet come from that catches Cairo in his temple and ends his mission? Cairo is openly daring people to shoot him, gesturing with his hands, screaming like a mad man. From out of the crowd emerges a face, a familiar face, the face of a man that Cairo knows all too well. This man is a government agent named Paul Radin. When Cairo was working out west for Danny Vice's promotion, this man Radin was responsible for kidnapping Cairo and attempting to kill him. Fortunately, Cairo's dear friend Biohazard saved his life, but then Radin and his goons arrested Biohazard and Cairo down in Mexico. The president himself intervened on behalf of Cairo and Biohazard, granting them full presidential pardons. Now it appears that Radin is back in Cairo's life, and Cairo is none too pleased by this development.
Bobby Cairo: "You? It was always you, wasn't it, Radin? The lawsuit, the kids, Biggs, Huckabee, Winona Ryder, it was all you!"
Radin laughs one of those cocky, ultra-confident, smarmy Bill O'Reilly laughs as he approaches Cairo.
Paul Radin: "It's nice to see you too, Cairo. I'm not at liberty to answer your questions, but I'll let you in on a little secret: It was my New Year's resolution to put you out of business, once and for all."
Cairo chokes back his disgust by feigning a chuckle.
Bobby Cairo: "That's funny, Mr. Radin. Me? I don't make resolutions, but if I did I would resolve to get you and Jannetty in the same room and flip the switch."
Radin clears his throat.
Paul Radin: "You're a dreadfully witty nuisance, but a nuisance nonetheless, Mr. Cairo, and we can't have that. This isn't National Treasure and you're not Nicholas Cage. I could have gone with Charlie Wilson's War and Tom Hanks for that analogy, but that movie was horrible."
Bobby Cairo: "Really? I haven't seen it."
Paul Radin: "The point is that you're walking on thin ice, Cairo. The ice is so thin that it's about to crack and then you're gonna fall into a lake of some really bad things... BAD things, Cairo. The only reason why you didn't die last time is because the president pardoned you. You won't be so lucky this time around because we've gone right over the president's head. He doesn't watch WCF, but more importantly I'm working for a group so powerful and so secretive that you can't even begin to imagine."
Bobby Cairo: "The CIA?"
Paul Radin: "Yes... well, I guess that wasn't so difficult to figure out after all."
Bobby Cairo: "Not really. Seemed pretty obvious."
Paul Radin: "Nevertheless, we can make you disappear like you were never there in the first place. Tell me what is your decision, Cairo? Will you drop your campaign of dissent or am I gonna have to drop you?"
Bobby Cairo: "You can't silence the truth, Radin. The American people crave progress and that's not something that can be killed with a bullet to the back of the head."
Paul Radin: "Very well, Cairo, have it your way. I'll be seeing you again real soon and I won't be offering any deals next time."
Radin cracks Cairo over the skull with a blackjack. Cairo falls to the ground, face down on the ice cold granite tile. For the next several hours Cairo will drift in and out of consciousness, all the while the words "Forget it, Cairo. It's Godland." will reverberate in his brain. When Cairo finally regains consciousness he will roll onto his back and see the specter of a beautiful Asian woman staring down at him.
