Fletcher Quill Chapter 124

Quill’s long time right hand, man servant, Court Clerk is in a state of shock as the old Marine General while sitting in Session in Court grabs him and say’s loudly, "Drake go outside and get the two Federal Security Guard’s while I clear this Mother Fucking kangaroo bought court and have a little chat with my main Boy here, the Fat Man!

The rest of you esteemed over paid dilettante Bitches’s get off those fat ass’s give me and my Boy here a little special court adjustment time. Ruthy grab the girls, Tommy you and Kennedy grab the others.

I know this is highly irregular and all that Parliamentary Shit. Ruthy keep the Press away till this ends."

"Quill, have you lost your pathetic drug riddled mind Justice? I will not allow you to Hijack my Court Marine!"

Justice Quill walks slowly up to Scalia as the big door’s shut and its on...

"Leonard Peltier the most famous mis judged American Indian Activist who did not pull the fucking trigger. Agents who were illegally instigating a set up shoot out in revenge mode and the subsequent cover up is fucking over Bitch!

I have hard ass evidence from three almost dead eye witness’s it was a Federal fucking frame up to assuage the loss of another agent. Bottom line here is even if Peltier did pull the trigger 30 plus years is enough!

So my easily bought scholar friend. Here is your deal now with me. I have all the shit on you rolling over on Gore VS Bush, all the shit on your hidden deal to give bizzz the keys to elections.

I have your fucking life right here! Bank transfers, Telex and cell phone histories, comfuckingprende" We get Peltier out of fucking jail today, now. Or you fry. Court is now back in Session, read these papers and cell calls.

You have ten minutes before I call your last Press conference."

Silence as Fat Boy thumbs through the neat stacks of legal papers while Quill motions Drake to open the big Door’s and the other Justices slowly walk in and look at Scalia looking down and mumbling a change in the mornings agenda.

A Writ for Immediate Release and Pardon Leonard Pelteir will eventually be filed, this Last Stand is over. All the ancient North American Indian Chief’s can rest in Peace.

Perhaps the final nail in the cruel and unusual punishment and attempted extinction of the great soul and spirit of the true owners of this land, the indigenous DNA repositories of the wildness that is America can find a small moment of Peace and love finally. Enough is enough! Here comes the Judge.

"Before we begin with the cases on today’s calender, new revelations have surfaced on the Peltier case. I move the Court begin working on reopening this case in line with new evidence that may nullify original due process.

Court Clerk will supervise all aspects and keep the Court informed. Now Justice Quill’s abrupt actions this morning may be almost justified, only time will tell. A full Pardon may be the answer if all is confirmed, now back to today’s work."

Suddenly if Chaos and here Sister’s Fate and Chance were not enough to charge the atmosphere in the usually boring sedate Inner court Chamber’s, Drake throws Justice Quill their absolute worst finger sign meaning holly shit Cowboy!

You think its awkward in here now! Here comes a curve ball almost as nice as Timmy Lincecum’s low and inside (Giants Rule the Galaxies!).

"Drake, Man, this better be fucking good Dude!!"

"Better then good oh Master of all surreal lives . It appears your fly fishing Pal Mr. Black Messiah has lost the FOOTBALL!, let me say that again your highness..." (Football is the special metal case that every President carries wherever they go. It contains all the Nuclear Weapon launch codes that allow Armageddon to begin!)

"Oh my God, I wondered what the fuck that shiny Box with all the colorful buttons was? Man, I know it was a inner Palace set up by maybe one of his Admiral’s. Navy Boys are highly pissed he is moth balling the fucking fleet. And not enough Marine Embassy Guards to go around? Ahh, this could kill his reelection Drake!"

"I know, his boys are waiting out side for you to escort them to the Foot Ball ASAP Sir!"

"I regret to inform the this already tattered session National Security is at stake. My Clerk Drake will inform me of the remainder of the days work, excuse me Ladies and Dawgs..."

As if the morning did not have enough insanity Quill grabs his shiny new yellow Lamborgine and screams into his Cell as he tries to hunt down the fucking Foot Ball!

"Keith, Dude it sounds like the test drive gig you and the boys just did was like the 2nd coming! Man, the Foot Ball is missing? Did you accidently pack the fucker with your gear when we left Alaska Buddy?"

"Fuck no! He lost the Foot Ball? Second term by by Baby! Hey man, our latest "Gloom & Doom" song is a hugefied hit my Brother. Hope you find the Foot Ball, fucking San Fran Giants Kick asssss!!!! Kung Fu Panda rules...."

"Hey Man, the mother fucking Football is more important then fresh air in a crowded Volkswagen after an Oprah chilli fart cowboy! Where the fuck is the Football? Dali lama due here in minutes, gotta get Duke Parker on the horn pronto.

Look Glimmer Twin I wanna play in some of these smaller $20 Buck gigs before o2 Arena and Madison Square Illegal upon a time?"

"Oh yeah, no worries Yankee Icon. Mick wants you and the Harp on six of the set list top ten, Midnight Rambler and the Dwayne Almond thing. Gotta go Man, hope you find the Football before Tues election!"

"This race is so tight it could go to me like Bush vs Gore did! Or the fucking country goes nuts and revolt time. The perfect storm, full moon, all the psychic energy is ripe for chaos and her girls to take over. Look at fucking New York, pulling Gun’s in gas stations, man the fabric is so thin my friends. Get the Dali Lama on the horn and Duke Parker ASAP!

One more thing Drake I’m almost near General Parker’s private residence, tell Peltier’s people this fucking Justice is over the persecution and near extermination of the real owners’s of North America, Battle of The Big Horn, Alcatraz, Wounded Knee, Geronamo, Crazy Horse, Grey Wolf, enough is enough before historical revisionists rewrite this history.

The fucking Jew’s use the Holocaust like a magic wand to justify genocidal asshole behavior, Black’s in slave ships and American Indians carry a much bigger fucking sack Drake, how is the BM doing in Ohio? Did he take it and Florida?"

"Still counting Sir. You have multi way pissed off young woman on two cell phones. The long lost Mother Superior Itallian Goddess wants to bend your ear now! Sugar Tit’s is livid ten calls in last hour and last but not least Sharon Stone say’s she has a Hollywood deal made just for you?

BM is not pulling ahead quick enough, he has 180 electoral Votes and R has 220 his ass getting kicked, fat lady ain’t singing, but, she is warming up your Honor!"

"Drake, I’m waiting for General Parker to get his ass in the Lambo, we gotta find the Football Pilgrim? What the fuck I thought the Football had a G.P.S. locator we could hone in on Man! Drake get me some fucking Silicon Valley Nerd(SVN) that understands this G.P.S. shit.

The BM’s security boys are behind me in three blacked out S.U.V’s’s all nasty CIA looking mother fucker’s. Think I’ll pull into Ms. Molly’s Blue’s Bar on 18th and Mission throw down with Buddy Guy playing there tonight Man.

Drake get Buddy Guy on the Horn, no time for Bitch Management! Put them all in a holding pattern. The fucking Football lost? Parker get in Man, we got ugly shit to sort Marine! BM lost the fucking Football again Dude!"

"So fucked up and he is getting that overly tan ass kicked by the whitest mother fucker I ever saw my Brother! Ok, lets pick up the Dali Lama he just landed on the roof near that Blues Bar you hang at, Molly’s."

"Son, this is deep as whale shit! Bm’s people are crazy scared it will get out and cost him the whole fucking Enchilada Cowboy!"

"Here smoke this fatty, African Lion shit grown in eastern Morocco . Which sand nigger sold us this shit ? You recall Jar Head? The fucking Football lost. Hey man, if we find it first. We could start World War Three Pilgrim."

"Shut up asshole, Drake just text me the Rare feathers from King Tut’s party Dress’s are waiting at my Raven’s Haven, me old Irish Castle. Duke more fly fishing less of this Bullshit.

Can’t wait to get to Monte Carlo and start rehearsals, the boys are waiting. Fucking Football lost!"

As sweet Fate and her nasty sister’s would have it! The room full of hard core blues lovers and the screaming Guitar vocal’s of Mick Jagger’s favorite living Blues Legend Buddy Guy rocking the house.

His associate Blues legend in spirit Junior Wells blowing some real serious Blues Harp like only he could ever do!

"Parker, fuck the Football and I’m real tired of these dark Sunglass mother fuckers in the slow black S.U.V. on my ass. Hold on we loose these kids and the we play with Buddy and Junior Marine!

You ready? First I get Drake to tell the Dali Lama use my traveling Crystal Ball and find that fucking Football!!!"

"Hey Jar Head, just got text, BM is in deep shit if the lack of turn out in east is cast in stone, he may be fucked and out of a gig!

Hit this pipe load of Dali special Monkey Shit from Nairobi Hashish, it kills! Dude, slow the fuck down Man 150 in two blocks, are you crazy!"

Molly’s Blues Bar is full tilt energy dripping down the street as Quill and Parker push their way past the door man slip him $200 and head for the Bar first where none other the Clapton and the Ghost of main Southern Pal Sky Dawg and three very hot half naked young Blonds tit’s and nipples hanging out, tiny little skirts ass easy to watch and enjoy, ahh good to be home.

Buddy Guy spots Quill who has his shiny new gold Hohner Marine harp in low, low G warming up as he walks toward the screaming stage the crowd instantly spots the old hard playing Supreme Court justice, Marine General, hippy pot head, from their 60 inch digital cable T.V’s.

"All right, ladies and gents his Honor Justice Quill be rocking the house with us tonight! Lets jump into, " Messin with the kid " then into , " Stormy Monday". Play that Harp white boy..."

Quill leans into it and the house is on its feet as the old man with the Gold Harmonica reaches way down low to the bottom, low and slow and nasty mean. Parker on the secure cell phone is smiling widely and giving Quill the old thumbs up!

It appears the Black House is safe for four more of the same... He pulled it off, shit economy, perfect storm helped, the world takes a deep breath. As Quill lays into.

"No use crying " he looks off stage to see the Dali Lama bobbing and weaving, Buddy Guy big smile lets Quill take a long solo and blow his sweetest old Chicago Michigan Ave. Style. Molly’s is rockin, pot smoke so thick the stage is a blur...

"Dali, any idea where the fucking Football is hiding my main spirit handler?"

"Parker, have no idea, not a clue, Quill’s Crystal Ball say’s it may be somewhere near Alaska scene of last trout fly trip, could be our friends the north American Indian’s may be in on this?

They are so hyped about the Quill trying to get Peltier out of the slammer anything is possible. When he gets off stage we must contact the spirits of Spirit Bear and Grey Cloud for guidance.

"Four more years of the same? Will the forces of change blow into America’s destiny?"