Fletcher Quill Chapter 115

"All in Heaven On Earth below
A crystal fabric.
Sacred gossamer web.
Grabbing hands shatter it!"

Timothy Leary, Psychedelic Prayers.

Fletcher Quill, Dali Lama, Keith Richards, Johnny Galliano and their awfully willing X Italian leader Berlusconi have been feasting and hitting copious Bongs while enjoying the company of several delicious local girls almost dressed and very nasty...

It has been non stop parting for three days as the Italian Press takes cheap shot after shot at the visiting American Marine General and his boys. The atmosphere takes a sudden turn on the Reality Hiway Baby!

Better wake the fuck up old man, it is your old Boss, Secretary Of fucking State Hellery Cowboy and she has got the mother fucking Jack! You really want this call Man?

"Ahhh, good morning old girl what the fuck you want with me at this hour in my present unsteady quit debauched state Dear? Has Bubba found a new playmate?"

"Have you stopped eating Italian Pussy long enough to catch the latest news General fucking Mayhem?

Four of your fucking Boys have just set the Peace process back ten years ! A video has surfaced, four Sniper Recon Marines pissing on enemy corpses General Peter Puller! What say you San Francisco Bad Boy?"

"Outstanding! Hellery we used to take shit over slicing off a nice ear to wear around our necks back in Viet Nam in the 1960s.

Love this Cell Camera generation, they have all the fun with instant movies. So do you want me to pin maybe the Navy Cross or the Chesty Puller Combat Attitude Award Baby?"

"You fucking misanthropic knuckle dragger from the left out coast. Knew your going to revel in this shit Quill. Listen call your active and retired Marine friends and help me make Bullshit humanitarian excuses for the world press.

Really Quill gotta love this video, one of your boys is heard saying, " Please have a real nice day " You fucking Jar Heads, have to run and rent ‘ Full Metal Jacket " love and kiss’s madman..."

"Listen baby, Dali Lama wants to run his perverted games with you, hold on, here Dali, put that fucking Bong down Holyman!!"

"Hello Hellery, your spirit appears in need of some deep anal massage administered by a real Holyman.

Perhaps I can explore your lower intestine my Dear, at your leisure of course for the sake of your tortured Slick Willy abused libido, what say you Little Miss Huge Butt (LMHB)?"

"You my once quite Holy little man have become the absolute embodiment of pure unadulterated evil and I must say it is Balls Out attractive to my Slick Willized Libido Baby!

On another more mundane subject can you say a few tainted Tibetan prayers for our po misguided Lindsay Lohan languishing in the depths of mortuary Hell doing Community Service in lieu of a very spotty court attendance record Dali Baby?"

"Yes G friend it done with heart felt love and while I’m at it maybe a few Hale Mary’s for the San Francisco mother fucking Forty Niner’s and Alex a new God is Born, its is an all Alex Universe now my mortal Hellery."

Gotta go Dali, tell Quill get his ass back to the Court and get that fucking other Italian Basterd Fat Boy Alito back in line."

Suddenly as if by divine intervention the room becomes dim and the lights flicker golden green hues as the 2nd wave LSD peak hits the boys and Quill grabs his Harmonica and begins to blow a low slow nasty intro into one of The Glimmer Twins number one stage favorites, "Street Fighting Man."

Keith smiles and grabs his Fender Strat, Dali got his Miraca’s rolling nicely, its is on as the new video of four of the United States finest most highly trained warrior’s urinating their way into infamy.

A voice from the Blues Pantheon none other then Albert Collins Chicago Alligator Records Number One soul/blues maniac Master of the Telacastor Alco the Man!

ALBERT COLLINS

"Boys, my very bad nasty blues playing white boys. Man, could have used that Harp when we played Tokyo December 21st 1982 Quill. Larry Burton’s killer guitar and that Harp would have worked real fine.

Keith, Dali, Quill look here get over this violent streak you are going through man, get back to peace , love, fly fishing and your cat Timba Quill. I know how you loves that fucking Abyssinian cat Quill..."

"Hello Albert, great to hear that low voice son. You been hitting it with Muddy Water’s and his crew I know.

Yeah, this trip to Italy makes me want some peace for sure baby! How bout we get into your signature sweet hit, "If Trouble Was Money" come on man , one, two, three....."

"Hey Mr. Excessive Generalismofuck... It’s your other much, much bigger then sweet chocolate Boss , Black Messiah Sonny Boy!"

"Thanks Dali, you have fucking nailed the lingo Holyman... Give me that fucking Bong fool. Mr. Not for fucking long President, can you say write my book now please? Let me guess, the Marines pissing on corpses video has gone viral right Pilgrim????"

"You got it Marine! So what the fuck , you know how much blood, time, money is down the fucking drain? And ahh, really hate to mention the cruel truth Marine Hero it ain’t fucking right! Ok!"

"I will start making calls now Sir. Lets talk fly fishing, I have three places to go hide and throw bugs. Deep Alaska, Chile Patagonia, and Hell’s Canyon up North form San Francisco, you pick one and we meet you there in two weeks. In two weeks Italy will want us the fuck out of here no question."

"Deep Alaska nice, done. Call you in two weeks to set it in stone. Make the fucking calls Marine for me and your country Ok!"

"Quilly, man, you have three very hot calls right now Sports fan! It’s the attorneys’s for Ms. Backdoor Bachman, and Sarah Pollinator and we have on line two his supreme lowness the fucking Pope and on line three some cat named Spit Fromley or Fit Homely or Mit Rohmkneee or whatever, he say’s he is your next boss bitch!"

"Put the Pope on Dali, tell Spit or Shit it ain’t over Fat Slut has not yodeled yet baby! Tell the law Zombies suck my Irish Whang and get my fly fishing Bamboo Rod Maker and my last fly shipment of rare feathers for me we are river Alaska bound soon after the fucking court work Bullshit..."

"Mr. Nasty his self in my fucking country and you have not yet come and kissed my Ring my Son? How much more of that insane Hashish can I get?

Ask Dali while we are discussing your Vatican arrival say in three days Mr. Sure as hell going to Hell? We will fully equip the old Heads Of State Suite that Dali stayed in back in his Holy Days...

Tell Dali I’m hitting big shit load of shit right now in the Gold Papal Bong you had made for me in Haight Ashbury Quill remember that great awesome gift that got us hanging and banging Mr. Pal of 666 and worse, where the fuck are all those bad evil spirits that haunt and follow you Sonny Boy?"

"Man, you sound so fucking toasted Popinstein, hey man, remember the fucking Jews are directly descended from fucking the first Mud people, its in the Bible Baby... Listen we are going to deep Alaska with Black Messiah in a few weeks, you can come along if you like fly fishing with all of us and extensive drug abuse of course..."

"I’m down with that Pilgrim. Call and tell my secretary when and how and my Papal jet will get to gettin Baby. See you all here in couple of days, peace, out..."

As if the spirit of the Master of all mortal creator’s Leonardo Di Vinci had far more somber serious issues to cradle in his gifted long dead hands?

Intervenes at this completely debauched drug infested demonic feast to throw his highly chiseled two Drachma’s’s in the bitches brew baby...

"Fletcher fucking Quill and his band of human demon’s, a mere mortal consorting with dead music genius while maintaining am ongoing destruction of the last living religious leaders ala fucking Dali and my boy Pope.

You remind me of my work on that piece of shit Cistene Ceiling. I hated that job, despised that fucking Pope just like this asshole. But, your escapades have intrigued many of us in the Dead Arts.

Ahh, when exactly are you going to kill Russian Putin? Reconnect Sharon Stone ever? Write an insider Book about your jerk off Supreme Court days? We await your next LSD induced move...

Your Cat Timba has been granted another life extension, he is up to 11 now!

Quill I have come to prepare you to be visited by the greatest most powerful of all Angels, it is he who sits at the left hand of the Lord of Lords, Archangel Michael."

He Who Sits On Left Side Of Lord Of Lords

"Well, well, well... how could I possibly resist rare mortal human moment when such an august assembly holds forth like 666 and Satan having coffee at Hitler’s Mountain Chalet.

Starting with the ring leader Quill who has single handedly exposed the pathetic ego driven maniac’s leading the mindless flocks of quilt riddled mortals straight into the celestial giant ATM vacuum!

You Fly man have a special place waiting for you my talented friend. Dali Lama, Popeinstein you two fools will get the exact same treatment that idiot cruse ship Captain that abandoned ship off your Italian coast and cost lives, that coward basterd will keep you sweet company boys! (Go Niner’s- Alex Rules Baby!!)

Keith your little Buddy Brian Jones says hello as does Graham and that Texas Sax Blowing man Bobby Keys a big shout back..."

"An honor to be visited by the highest high Angels and we nothing but hooligans. The World Court is about to release it’s sentencing of the Head Child Molester Enabler (HCME) and his last ten predecessors in absentia.

Word is it’s the Firing Squad for all eleven Popes. Can you possibly elaborate Sir?"

"They all know in their hearts what a hot flash that last moment when six well placed 220 grain Full Metal Jackets hit cold flabby flesh Baby! Excuse me Quill taking the current Pope fly fishing a wonderful idea!

Maybe take Lindsay Lohan and those Big Ass Kardishian Bitches (BAKB) and throw in Hashish, sex, and look at what fun you can have while still mortal Mr. Nine year old..."

"You sound rather pessimistic Sir, I’m only playing the cards the Hand Of Fate( HOF) threw with a little twist here and there. I have saved more mortal Fallen Female Angels (FFA) then most men ever know, gotta count for some extra air condition time on the other side?"

"One last thought hedonist King, play each day as if it were your last mortal. Oh, one more thought your friend Sugar Tits and her infamous Stripper Pole Install Bitches’s invokes historic references to the days of Babylonia excess.

You have again in your long mortal existence established, created, nurtured your fetish riddled life as if your immortal San Francisco Cowboy Fly Fisher...."

"Honored to have the highest of all Angelic beings consort with riff raff such as this crew... As look out of this shimmering ever moving film of mortal existence into the fog of the future or what is left of my future.

Only four things still matter, Fly fishing, Pussy, Harmonica’s, Skate Boards. It is of know interest to me what happens to majority of the ignorant slaves trapped in eternal mortality never to be heard from agin once the first shovel of dirt is thrown in their ice cold face.

As your well aware with my splendid Guardian Angels the smell, sounds, light, everything about fly fishing has been my only religion all this long life. Nothing, no revelation or epiphany created by gods or man can change my destiny and that is just fine with me..."

"Live each moment as if it were your last mortal hedonist."

Next Stop Vatican City and his lowest of low Pope will be visited by alien beings like no others!