Dooby Rhymes with Scooby

                                                                                        by Jamie Haze 

 

 Part 32

By

Jamie Haze


While the news of Ollie's very big problem with his aunt and uncle was no
longer a secret to Auggie's guests, the guests forgot that three of Ollie's
co-workers; Margery, Bernie and Agatha's boy toy/room stewards were sitting
in the lounge and heard every word. As far as the young men were concerned,
Ollie wasn't just another one of the Rainbow Clubs' many employees, he was
their titular leader without knowing; the only one in the whole mob of job
applicants who had the balls to strip without being told to (Auggie's
suggestion aside), while the majority of the guys hired knew what was
expected. The three were also the only Club employees aside from the Chefs,
who had been to Coral Place with their ladies and had been aboard Hobby,
the big sport fisherman, where Ollie worked for Captain Jonathon as his
First Mate. Ollie was so proud of his first ever job, he wore a gift from
Jonathon, a long billed cap adorned with `scrambled eggs' on the bill and
happily pointed out his title that was monogrammed on the hat if a guest
aboard failed to comment. Ollie didn't realize that the ladies eyes',
hidden by sunglasses, and his three fellow employees were ogling his
whipcord body in preference to his hat.

"We three are going fishing with you tomorrow," Margery told Jonathon, "I
shall talk to Oliver then. I think the first thing we must do is confirm or
deny his uncle's plans for Oliver's future," she proposed.

Jonathon winced, "If you do that, he'll know that I talked to you."

"Nonsense," Margery countered, "I'll simply say that I recognized the logo
on his shirt this evening. Indeed, Oliver looks just like his father, we've
done business with his father in the past and my company still works with
the trust, so we have a legitimate connection."

"What you plannin' then?" Auggie asked.

Margery rubbed her chin in thought, then smiled, "Well, if I could borrow
your names to lend credibility to a mythical syndicate, I would offer to
buy Olsen Assets out. The proposal would be well beyond the trust
management's authority to even consider so they would contact the uncle as
Ollie's guardian. I would think the offer would force his hand, if there is
a hand, to find and dispose of his nephew, post haste, with billions of
dollars at stake in a lump sum rather than just many millions in income
annually." She hesitated and frowned, "Even that income would end abruptly
if Oliver reached his eighteenth birthday."

"Count me in," Auggie was first to respond, "with seed money too if
necessary," he added. The others in the room nodded or vocalized their
agreement along with volunteering additional help, monetary or otherwise.

"Can we help somehow?" Mike, Margery's personal steward asked eagerly while
he, Ben and Danny, the other two stewards offered fresh drinks to their
ladies.

"Can you type?" Margery asked at once.

Mike looked at Margery strangely before he answered, "Why yes, everyone
types."

"Everyone in your generation types," Margery countered, "but not all of you
can spell whole recognizable words Michael, which are you? Like `are you'
is two words not spelled by the letters, `r' and `u'," she challenged.

"I think I can handle that," Mike answered with a grin, "what do you want
typed?"

"Come along to my room and we'll rough out a proposal to send to Olsen
Assets and request a meeting at their earliest convenience." When Margery
and Mike left, Bernie and Agatha followed on Ben and Danny's arms.

Auggie watched them go with a hoisted eyebrow and a grin. "Remind me never
to get my own self on to the wrong side o' that little lady;" he told Zeek,
"she sure is a caution." He lowered his voice so the others in the room
couldn't overhear. "Can y'all see if that bunch o' boys that's handlin'
that jailbird problem up to home fo' us has them a branch office out
L.A. way? Ollie boy's relations might be in need o' an accident o' their
own," he added with a frown.

#######

All three paying guest couples booked Dildo the next day for a diving
adventure based solely on Cole's chosen name for his boat, but got detoured
to and nearly into the house as soon as one couple saw it from the
outside. Cole had sent Pete to the parking area to intercept the six men
and guide them directly to the dock and Dildo, but as luck would have it,
one couple owned a `salon' that specialized in very fine antiques and art
located on Rodeo Drive, Beverly Hills, California, of all prestigious
retail locations and they were drawn toward the house as soon as they saw
it.

The difference between a salon and a shop or store was whether or not a
`client' (a customer), had called in advance to make an appointment, the
price tags on the limited merchandise available for `viewing' (shopping),
and perhaps `acquiring' (buying). Although the methods of payment were the
same, the newly acquired merchandise was always delivered to a client after
said payment was safely credited to the salon's account and not before. The
word credit was as vile to the salon's owners as shouting `fuck' in church.

Auggie, Zeek, Ryan and Carter were meeting in the dining room after
breakfast while the boys had gone out to get the boats ready for the day's
adventures in diving and fishing and find out from Scott who was going to
be photographed and/or taped in which settings. The sun was just peeking
over the eastern horizon and the men were discussing the first class action
lawsuit by Harold Hollingsworth's very distant relatives aimed at disputing
the terms of his will and discovering what happened to the bulk of his
alleged enormous estate that once included Coral Place.

"I'm telling you that IS so a Picasso," a voice said from the terrace, "it
was only photographed once, in 1932 I believe, and it hasn't been seen
since."

Auggie rolled his eyes heavenward, "Six damned guests, an' one o' them just
has to be a fuckin' art expert," he moaned. "Them two new boats gets moved
to the marina today," he ordered no one in particular as the six guests in
question began to walk into the dining room through the open window wall
with the expert in the lead and with Pete following while looking scared
and powerless to stop the intruders.

It was that moment that a deep throated rumble echoed hollowly from the
mostly ignored boathouse. The intruders paused to listen and Ryan was able
to intercept them at the dining room threshold and direct their attention
to the beautiful antique mahogany hulled Chris-Craft launch or runabout as
it emerged from its `garage'. "Where was that restored?" The art expert
asked Ryan since it was clear that he was not getting any closer to the
Picasso at that moment with Auggie and Zeek adding to the room's
blockade. He imagined that he would have a second chance when they returned
to the dock that afternoon.

"It hasn't been restored," Ryan countered.

"That's how it looked the day it left the factory back in 1940 or
thereabout," Auggie added, "I expect today is the day that the so called
beautiful couple are gettin' their pitchers took onboard." He raised his
voice to warn Trasker and Stevie, the pilot and copilot; "Without no dings
nor scratches neither!" he shouted as Trasker eased the boat up to the
bumper adorned bulkhead directly in front of the house so the façade and
the lush tropical vegetation would serve as a unique impressive background
when Jennifer and Lane boarded. After all, Scott reasoned, the mysterious
couple had to have a vacation residence, so Coral Place was the perfect
backdrop.

Lane and Jennifer emerged from the guest house that had been made into a
temporary dressing room and makeup studio. Jennifer was dressed in shorts,
a sleeveless blouse and boat shoes while Lane wore shorter shorts, a tank
top and the obligatory boat shoes and both wore magnificent tans straight
from Dom's bottles of spray-on lotions, although Jennifer's was the golden
tan of blonds who actually tanned while Lane's tan was a darker brown to
match his darker natural complexion.

Lane left Jennifer behind for Scott to photograph facing the early morning
sun when he first saw the Chris-Craft and then looked depressed when he saw
that Trasker was driving and there was vacant back seat and an aft cockpit
at the stern with the engine compartment separating to two seating
areas. That is, he was depressed until the boys climbed into the second row
of seats so he could board and sit behind the wheel and they would show him
the controls. That was when he realized that he really was going to be
allowed to drive the antique boat.

"The usual disclaimers apply," Trasker told Lane without explaining
further.

"What disclaimers, what is a disclaimer?" Lane questioned suspiciously.

"If you get the littlest ding or scratch on this boat, head straight for
home; when we miss y'all at supper we'll know an' Uncle Auggie will start
the hunt." While Trasker was smiling, Lane wasn't sure how serious the
warning was, so he promised to be careful.

"Make him sit on a towel!" Dooby called from further down the bulkhead
where the outdoor cooking was done at Coral Place. Over time the area grew
to include a big smoker, the charcoal and gas grills and a range top. There
was a fish cleaning table that was tipped out over the water, and a bunch
of comfortable chairs. A big boat cooler had been loaded with drinks and
ice, which saved trips to the kitchen and Auggie hoped might just befuddle
the food police assigned to his case when someone was grilling and he was
keeping them company.

"Dooby Dubois," Jennifer warned, "it's far too early in the morning for you
to be picking on us already." She grinned, "Besides, we just got out of the
shower so Lane is safe for at least a half hour," she continued after
looking around to be sure that no parents were around at that hour.

"Jennifer!" Lane whined, apparently scandalized, although he had
difficulty hiding his lecherous grin.

Jennifer saw that Dooby and Cory, with their cooking cohorts that included
the Bradley bunch plus Steve and James with Rodger and Little Zeek, were
adding an apparatus to the collection of cookers already there that seemed
to have little to do with cooking, "What are you doing," she asked,
"building an outdoor torture chamber?"

"What are you, a busybody in training?" Her brother asked sarcastically. He
looked at his watch pointedly, "You know your half hour safety margin is
slipping by. The upholstery in that boat is glove leather and I doubt very
much if you know how to get THAT kind of stain out."

Lane was really scandalized by that observation. "You know I'm sitting
right here listening to you guys discuss me as if I was a freak, I'm just
over productive," he defended his ability to ejaculate multiple times if
motived and being what Dooby labeled a `bi-boy', motivations in addition to
Jennifer abounded around Coral Place. "Get in the damn boat Jennifer," he
warned, but just had to ask; "What is that thing you guys are building
anyway?"

"It's an A-frame for deep frying turkeys," Dooby announced proudly. "Our
Cooking Channel does this show every year about now about how to deep fry a
big bird safely without getting burned or burning the house down. They
built something like this out of wood, I sketched it and showed it to
Rodger, our grill master, and he redesigned it out of steel, with aircraft
cable and stainless steel blocks on a sliding track, so it's totally
fireproof. Thirsty and Argyle know this welder guy. I think he built their
still, and he made it up for us, simple," he concluded.

"Why y'all messin' with it so early today fo'?" Auggie asked as he rolled
into the area and joined the conversation.

"Scott and Ryan thought cooking turkeys a bunch of different ways might
make a good hour show on the cooking channel before Christmas since it's
too late to get it done for Thanksgiving and your guy used the same
rinky-dink 2X4 setup again this year already," Cory replied from a safe
distance away from the assembly process. The reason Dooby impressed tall
guys like Steve, Little Zeek and Alex to do the work made the job easier
without the need of step ladders – or personal labor.

Since Rodger designed the thing, he pointed out which pieces joined
together in which order while Dooby played construction supervisor and made
sure all the nuts and bolts were torqued sufficiently to be certain nothing
would fall apart in the next 50 or so years of constant use.

Steve eyed Dooby critically, "Tell me something Dooby; here we are,
actually doing all the work and there you are telling us how everything
should be done according to your exacting standards from at least 10 feet
away and you're the only guy wearing a fucking hardhat, why is that?"

Cory sank to his knees laughing. He raised his hand as if he was in school
and shouted, "I know, I know the answer to that one!" He ignored Dooby's
frown and answered, "Because you're about 10 seconds away from throwing a
wrench at the bossy prick, and you're going to aim at his head! Is that the
answer?" he managed to gasp. Dooby backed further away from his laborers,
but he was both too late and too slow.

All the younger and/or shorter boys known collectively as the unemployed
joined the labor revolt and helped carry Dooby to the bulkhead and toss him
a good 20 feet out beyond the fish cleaning station. No one thought about a
splash in that prime food gathering area worked like a dinner bell, that
initiated a whole bunch of sliver streaks from all around the cove,
including Dooby's pets as they raced to be first to the unexpected
feast. Dooby made his own streak straight to the ski boat's boarding ladder
and once safely aboard, watched his precious hardhat bob briefly before
something big, probably Barry Barracuda, took it under to sample the
unknown tasty treat. Whichever culprit, it found the hat unsatisfactory
because it bobbed to the surface a few feet further away only to be butted
and nudged by other hopeful underwater residents before it just bobbed.

Auggie watched both Dooby get tossed and his brother Artie with his camera
tracking Dooby's flight, his escape, and his slow careful reentry into the
water without the slightest splash or sudden motion to retrieve his hat,
"Did y'all get all that Artie boy?"

"Oh yeah, I was ready; he's bossier than our father, so I knew something
was bound to happen," Artie replied while he continued to watch his brother
through the camera's telephoto. He added; "Man, what is it with that hat?
It must have been scratched, he's making his `everyone picks on me' face
and he can't figure out why."

Dooby looked around to see Christian and Scott in a skiff drifting closer
to the mysterious couple, snapping snaps from near water level to capture
the couple, the Chris-Kraft and the house in the background. "Christian!"
Dooby called.

"WHAT?" Christian snapped with an exasperated tone. That morning he was
also wielding a camera. Scott had advised him that if he became any bossier
he could take all the pictures he wanted after he'd recovered the camera
from his ass.

"Can you get scratches out of plastic? Barry bit my hat right where my name
goes," Dooby lamented.

Christian rolled his eyes heavenward as if to ask for strength, "I promised
you I'd put your name on that hat, and I will, but if you say the word
`hat' again within my hearing, I also promise to get it finished by the
time you retire if one of your clients doesn't murder you before one of us
gets at you first!"

Thus rebuffed, Dooby felt free to rejoin the construction crew after the
A-frame was completely assembled and everyone was admiring their work. The
Chris-Craft was motoring along aimlessly out in the middle of the lagoon
while being circled by the photographer's skiff. The boys were drifting
away to find and don at least a pair of shorts so that the turkey
preparation could actually begin without worry about the cameras seeing too
much exposed skin to avoid unnecessary editing.

"That there rig looks so good," Auggie opined, "I think I'll just have that
welder guy in to fashion a whole playground fo' the twins outta stainless
steel. A bigger A-frame will make a dandy swing set."

Zeek agreed, "A proper playground will be a right nice shower party gift!"

It was then that Auggie and Zeek noticed that all the boys had returned
without their clothes, to surround them and they were all frowning. The
boys assumed for differing reasons. Trasker was the first to veto his
uncle's idea; "Sorry Unc, the five of us guys went together an' we bought a
big playground that bolts together."

"We bought one that's made of logs and timbers; it's a fort with a watch
tower and play cannon, with all the bells and whistles," Cory reported for
he and Dooby since Dooby still was pouting over his scratched hardhat.

It was soon revealed that the Bradley bunch chose a stylized pirate ship
playground while Steve and Rodger with their fathers, without their
mother's knowledge and certain veto, had decided on a scaled down rocket
ship playground motif. Auggie's frown grew with the eventual size of the
twins' playground until he began to stare out at the placid cove that was
only being disturbed by the Chris-Kraft and skiff. His frown changed into a
smile as he collected Zeek and Ryan and they disappeared into the house.

Trasker laughed at the retreating trio, "I think we just started a game of
one ups-man-ship, an' old Unc knows what we already bought the twins so
we're at a disadvantage."

"Maybe he'll buy them a bus that's tricked out as a nursery," James
guessed, "He's been worried that Momma won't bring the twins by often
enough."

"He was lookin' out at the cove, so maybe he'll get them a big starter
fishin' boat with the salon converted into a floatin' nursery," Little Zeek
forecast. He was on a roll with his idea; "I can just see two tiny little
fightin' chairs bolted to the deck."

James rolled his eyes to Rodger, "If you guys are going to room together,
you're responsible for givin' this idiot his smart pill once every day."

Gullible Rodger took the bait; "What smart pill?" he asked Little Zeek with
concern in his voice.

Big Little Zeek collared Rodger with a long arm around his neck and began
to walk him into the house. "Don't you ever listen to my brother; he knows
very well I can't swallow a hard pill. I take all my meds in liquid form
an' you're packin' the perfect prescription right down here." Little Zeek
ran his free hand down Rodger's body. Rodger's reaction time was still very
close to none at all, so Little Zeek's hand encountered Rodger's med
injector that was already more than ready to inject a dose of smarts
wherever a patient desired.

Rodger stumbled but finally understood, "I can do that for you, anytime you
feel a case of dumb coming on, you just let Nurse Rodger know. Even between
classes," was a promise that echoed hollowly from the great room with some
laughter.

By the time that Mattie, Jimmy and Chef Brian arrived at Coral Place with
the fresh turkeys that had been stored in the Club's cooler, the boys had
two special tripod gas burners positioned under the A-frame, big pots that
were to be filled with peanut oil had been placed on the burners and Yankee
boys who had seen how Rodger started charcoal fires were trying to look
busy without getting too close to the grill where Rodger was directing
Little Zeek in dumping charcoal in a very neat, 20 pound pile in the middle
of the firebox. Smiles grew when Chef Brian rushed to help Little Zeek and
Rodger. It was obvious that Artie had learned his `Rodger the Fire Starter'
lesson and had one camera mounted on a tripod placed off to one side while
he used the telephoto lens to catch facial expressions and any possible
chase scenes with his shoulder mounted camera from the other side.

The plan was to roast one bird in a conventional oven in the house, one
would roast on the rotisserie over a slow mesquite wood fire and two (one
bird would be a backup), would be deep fried that wouldn't take as long as
roasting. It seemed that Chef Brian who had experience with lighting
grills, realized that something was amiss when he saw too many smirks and
smiles and heard soft giggles from the audience and no one was offering to
help so he backed away from Fire Starter Rodger, and his newly appointed
Executive Assistant, Little Zeek. Brian moved further away when the half
gallon bottle of lighter fluid sucked air and Rodger pulled the butane
lighter from his waist band, ducked down below the grill's rim, looked away
with his eyes tightly closed and pulled the trigger. All this while tall
and interested Little Zeek remained standing tall just behind Rodger with
his eyes fixed on the pile of charcoal, actually a safe distance away.

Little Zeek was in no danger of getting burned, but would feel the heat,
and of course there was the shock value; the whooshing sound and the
dramatic, very brief pillar of fire. Little Zeek was stretched prone on the
ground by the time the flames reached their zenith while Rodger was already
running for the dock, having planned his escape even though he had to leap
Little Zeek's prostrate body. Running was difficult because he discovered,
laughing and running, were not mutually compatible, especially when the
victim, an athletic teenager was in close pursuit.

Rodger ran straight for the dock, almost to the tee before turning sharply
onto Auggie's ramp that led down to Fishin' Boy's deck. He didn't need to
look back to see how close Little Zeek was; he could clearly hear his
pounding feet and the sound was ever louder as a background to Little
Zeek's laughter and shouted predictions concerning Rodger's certain fate in
the very near future. On reflection, his penalty sounded better and
better. The only problem was finding a private place. Rodger didn't tarry
on the fly bridge; he immediately climbed one of the aft tuna tower braces
and once at that lofty control station, descended a forward brace to the
expansive bow, before diving into an open port to land on the queen-size
bed in the master cabin.

Rodger's eyes remained fixed on the open port while he stripped off his
shorts and was surprised when Little Zeek chose to use the conventional
entry, the door. Little Zeek paused to lock the door before his shorts
joined Rodger's on the deck. He grinned down on Rodger's splayed form. "Now
it's time for y'all to get a double dose of smarts as payback for that
trick," he announced before he dove on the bed to almost bury Rodger under
his larger body.

By the time Little Zeek and Rodger returned to the grilling area everyone
including Auggie were clustered around a work table trying to guess what
species of bird was residing in a roasting pan that was ready to join the
rotisserie bird in the smoke as soon as Little Zeek was finished injecting
his new roommate with one or more doses of smarts. Auggie sweetened the
game by offering $1000 cash money as a reward to anyone who guessed
correctly. Mattie, Jimmy and Chef Brian were declared ineligible because
they brought the creature's misshapen carcass to Coral Place.

The general consensus was road kill, but that answer failed to address the
species question and Auggie remained waving his money around. "I think it's
a young Emu," Dooby decided. He elaborated using his imagination; "That was
hit by a semi out on Route 1. There was over $1500 in damage to the truck
but the bird was uninjured and was about to haul ass from the crime scene
when the driver shot it dead." He grinned at Chef Brian since he was still
new to the group so he was fair game to be picked on. "Brian gets all his
meat for the Club from the highway early every morning, and this morning he
really got lucky."

Brian and Cory were preparing a bourbon marinade that was to be injected
into the rotisserie turkey and Dooby hadn't been paying attention. Cory
whispered some words of advice to Brian. Cory didn't think that Dooby had
ever seen a meat injector before and he was correct. Dooby's eyes crossed
when Brian waved the really, really big hypodermic needle with a pint
capacity and a six inch needle under Dooby's nose. "Where would you like
your first dose of smarts injected?" Brian asked Dooby way too sweetly.

Dooby didn't answer until he had his butt firmly planted against the fish
cleaning table and then he answered with a question for Cory. "Do you think
a flock of Emu would get along with our deer?" He wondered. "It would be
neat to see them wandering around with the herd; kind of like our own Bush
Gardens." Of course after thinking of Bush Gardens, he expanded his
proposed menagerie to include, but not limited to Llamas, Alpacas and
possibly a pair of Giraffes who might join him watching Judge Judy late at
night through their second story bedroom window.

Cory giggled and shook his head, "You better ask Dad before you buy any
exotic animals to release on the property and if I was you, I'd do it from
a safe distance, like over the phone," he suggested.

Rodger whispered something to Little Zeek after nodding at the strange
looking bird and added, "We could split the money and have more to gamble
with if they let us gamble."

Little Zeek agreed with a nod and fixed two drinks for Auggie and his Uncle
Zeek using some of the bourbon left over from making the marinade. He
presented the glasses to Rodger to serve the men while he whispered his
answer before anyone else guessed correctly. "Y'all is absolutely right
Rodger boy," Auggie declared, "I got $500 more fo' the second right guess,"
he offered while Rodger pocketed his winnings.

"It's a Turducken!" Little Zeek announced proudly with his hand out toward
Auggie. "That's what you guys get for not gettin' your injection of
smarts!" he added and bowed to an inordinate number of middle fingers that
were raised in his and Rodger's general direction. "What is a Turducken
anyway?" Little Zeek asked Rodger amid increasing boos and jeers, which
didn't stop him from pocketing his $500 second place prize.

"It's a chicken stuffed into a duck, that's stuffed into a turkey. Someone
sent my parents one as a gift. There's a butcher here in Florida that puts
them together," Rodger explained while he raked out the burning coals and
added a few pieces of mesquite wood so they would begin smoldering. "We
liked the first one so much we've ordered others since, for special
occasions," he added.

Dooby fisted the cavity of the bird that was about to be skewered. "No
way," he opined, "you better explain a little further Rodger. Give us at
least $1000 worth," he threatened with his slimy fist under Rodger's nose.

Rodger rolled his eyes, "Well, they bone a chicken, a duck and a turkey,
except for the turkey's legs and wings so it still looks like a turkey
that's had some major surgery. Then they lay out the turkey first, add a
thin layer of stuffing and add the duck. Spread on more stuffing and
stretch out the chicken on top of the duck. Add more stuffing, and then
close everything up with skewers and you end up with a Turducken." He
pointed at the slightly lumpy trio of birds that looked vaguely like a
turkey. "It tastes far better than it looks before it's cooked," he assured
the skeptics who automatically suspected Dooby of `putting them on',
although he actually was one of the skeptics.

After the Turducken and the rotisserie bird were cooking, Chef Brian and
the boys filled two deep fry kettles from five gallon jugs of peanut
oil. Auggie didn't want to appear cheap but he couldn't resist frowning. He
motioned Brian over to express his concern; "Y'all realize them two fried
birds are fixin' to be more costive than three or four o' them Turdy
birdies, what with them big pots, the oil and that rig to get `em in an'
out o' the oil," he observed critically.

Brian sort of agreed, "Yeah, except these are commercial size cookers that
can also be used for boiling stuff like shrimp, lobster and crawfish using
an insert. I'm going to cook two more turkeys here while the oil's hot and
then move everything to the Club to use for seafood boils on the beach. The
A-frame and block and tackle will add some drama for the guests. Tonight
we'll have deep fried turkey on our menu and see how it goes. By the way,
we just got three more couples in as guests for the holiday and one single
guy who might not last too long. He's been a little too handy with some of
the guys already, but Mattie warned him up front; look but don't touch. If
he touches his room steward one more time he might find himself out on the
highway when he wakes up from the smack down he gets."

If Brian thought Auggie would object to the rough treatment of guests who
couldn't follow the simple rule or thought that Club employees really were
there for personal pleasures despite the rule, he was mistaken. Auggie
grinned, looked around to see if they were being watched and held up his
empty glass along with four horizontal fingers. After Brian returned with
the requested refills for Auggie and Zeek, Auggie suggested; "Just be sure
the asshole ain't marked up much more than a drunk fallin' down the stairs
when there ain't no witnesses around to say otherwise," he instructed. He
added, "An' remember, don't let Mattie get involved, not in her delicate
condition. If she gets riled enough she's prone to use the handle of her
broom in preference to the bristle end like she does with the boys."

James and Steve ran up to Auggie to say that there was a truck from Atlanta
with a crew out at the gate to deliver and install Christmas decorations
throughout the house. After they were allowed in and Ryan was showing the
decorating crew around, James whispered to Auggie while they were alone,
"You know Auggie, Steve here is one of those guys who was born with a
silver spoon in his mouth..."

"I was not," Steve protested with a laugh, "the only time a silver spoon
got in this mouth was at dinner time and only then if it was filled with
food."

"Sorry, you know what I mean," James countered.

"I told you, I'm not an art expert, but they sure look like originals,"
Steve protested again.

"What in tarnation are you boys talkin' about?" Auggie wondered with a
frown although he thought he knew, based on the guest's reaction to seeing
the Picasso in the dining room from a distance.

"Steve thinks all the paintings in the whole house are original, what he
calls modern masters and any one of them could be worth millions and
millions of dollars," James revealed with excitement in his voice.

"Shit-a-goddamn," Auggie groused, "Ryan boy said he thought those paintin's
were costive in today's money but he didn't say how costive. I'm guessin'
the ole guys that built this place didn't skimp on art work neither; but
back then nothin' was too good fo' them in this here love nest an' a few
grand per paintin' was nothin'. Just do me a big favor here boys; keep this
news under your hats to the outside world. Maybe if anyone asks we say
everything is real good reproductions," he suggested.

"TRASKER!" Ryan shouted from inside the house.

Auggie had noted that Trasker seemed preoccupied with alternately looking
at some papers he held; his watch and out at the inlet that joined the cove
to the Atlantic. He grinned when he saw Trasker smile. Trasker was up to
something, Auggie thought with pride. In a very short while, his
great-nephew had blossomed from a near orphan `no account woodpile'
relation, of which there was no shortage on Redlands, into a mature, very
capable administrator who had taken over the management of the 16,000 acre
working plantation and had grown it to a nearly 20,000 acre profitable
operation with very little consultation from Auggie. He accomplished this
mostly while living in the Florida Keys.

"What?" Trasker answered after most of the other boys joined Ryan in
calling Trasker's name as if he was deaf. They were trying to sound like an
echo, which never worked but was always fun to do.

"That boat you were expecting wants into the cove," Ryan relayed the phone
message from security. Ryan apparently knew about the boat because he
joined Trasker and added, "We best tie it up out on the end of the dock for
now, before we move it to the marina."

"Come on Unc," Trasker invited Auggie, "I bought us a new floatin' business
includin' someone to train some guys from the Club."

Auggie raced Trasker and Ryan out to the roofed-over tee and won the race
by using the usual expedient of threatening to run them down with his
scooter. Of course a new boat attracted everyone else as well so by the
time a sleek, high performance 32 foot speed boat was tied up, the three
man crew was greeted by everyone remaining at Coral Place. "I suppose yo'
fixin' to tell me how this here boat is goin' to make yo' money," Auggie
sort of questioned Trasker.

Trasker giggled like a kid at Christmas. "This is a winch boat! Isn't it
beautiful?" He replied and waited for his uncle's reaction. The boat in
question was one typically owned by those people with a yen for speed, too
much disposable income and time on their hands. They normally accommodated
four people in luxury until the inept driver crossed a wake wrong and/or
ventured out on a windy day, but that was what the seat belts and chicken
bars were for.

Trasker's new acquisition was somewhat different; there was an inordinate
amount of bench seating in the bow and there was an over large
semi-circular swim platform extended over the stern. Auggie hid his
smile. "There be room fo' a dozen wenches in that there boat, but yo' got
no need unless Ryan boy let yo' down or yo' changed yo' ways an' want to
give yo' Momma Mattie a passel o' gran-babies," he declared.

Auggie was unaware that surrogate Momma Mattie was standing directly behind
him until she whacked the back of his head. "You don't need to find me
anymore babies to raise," Mattie warned with a glare that included all the
boys, even the few relative strangers such as Rodger and Steve who had
quickly developed `in depth' friendships with her sons, Little Zeek and
James.

Little Zeek made a show of pasting an ear against Rodger's flat belly. He
claimed to be listening for sounds of a restless fetus much to everyone's
amusement and Rodger's embarrassment indicated by his cherry red face while
maintaining a lecherous grin. "We've been lucky so far," he advised his
mother happily.

"I should hope so," was Rodger's retort, "I believe you've forgotten who's
been injecting whom. My turn," he added and pushed Little Zeek up against a
roof support to conduct a similar field pregnancy test on him. It was at
that time Little Zeek's internal alarm clock noted that it was nearing
mid-morning break and announced the need for groceries with a very loud
growl. "Success Momma Mattie," he announced, "But don't be concerned, I'll
support your son and, ah, it as soon as it's hatched, but it needs some
sustenance now. I think we better adjourn to Fishin' Boy to resume roommate
negotiations." Rodger took Little Zeek's hand and guided him back aboard
Fishin' Boy.

Auggie noted that two of the three crewmen on Trasker's new winch boat
thought Little Zeek and Rodger's antics hilarious as well as the additional
comments from the gang. The third guy was frowning mightily, both at the
gang and his two comrades. Trasker also noticed, motioned Gus the bus
driver forward, whispered some instructions and sent the outnumbered
uptight crewman packing.

"Do you guys want full time jobs running Wench Boat?" Trasker asked the
remaining two guys. A deal was struck after food and lodging were included
before Trasker turned to his Uncle Auggie, "Did you figure out what this
boat is used for yet?" he asked.

Auggie looked at the stern platforms' height in relationship to the dock
surface; they were just about level with each other. He grinned when he
stood up, Zeek took his arm just in case and both stepped onto the winch
boat's aft platform together. "I call first ride," he announced before
looking at the crew. "Well, what y'all waitin' on? One of yo' drive an' the
other hook me up to the blamed harness." He added as an afterthought, "I
expect I take the large size," he told the boy who was sorting through the
parasail harnesses as if he wouldn't know, while the second started the
boat engine. "All aboard if'n y'all want a parasail ride fo' only 80 bucks
each, cash money, tax included plus 20 fo a tip so make it a 100 even to
save these boys from countin' no change," he called to the open mouthed
boys on the dock.

Zeek made a show of paying the fare for him and Auggie, which started a
stampede back to the house. While all of the boys were still wearing shorts
for the cameras, none carried anything in their pockets, especially money
since who was wearing what was subject to change during each day and it was
fun to put on someone else's unattended shorts without regard to sizes. For
instance, Dooby had a well-deserved reputation for donning shorts owned by
bigger guys such as Christian. They drooped in the front dangerously low
and he depended on his cute little bubble butt to hold them up.

Auggie stopped Trasker and Ryan from joining the rush for cash and silently
motioned them aboard after they cast off the winch boat's lines. He
explained that he heard Ryan on the phone talking about specially equipped
boats used for parasailing and no rocket scientist was required to deduce
that this was one such boat. He told them that he thought that they should
keep the new business separate from the Club's available activities and
that to become and remain profitable, weather permitting, that they
shouldn't give any freebie rides. He said that he managed to do a search
and found that there were apparently profitable parasailing operations
located wherever there was enough water to run a boat and since there
wasn't any located on Marathon – yet; the first, theirs, was likely to
be the only such business between Key Largo and Key West. "Just get with
Christian boy about advertisin'," he concluded.

"We already did Unc," Trasker responded, "He suggested that we get a nice
heavy helium balloon with an advertising banner under it. We'd put it out
on the highway by the marina's sign on nice flyin' days but the marina said
no; something about county sign regulations. We'll have to think of
somethin' else."

"Damn son, yo' shouldn't of asked; the county would have warned y'all..."

"WAIT FOR US GODDAMN IT!" Dooby called out from the dock to the nearly
empty winch boat that henceforth was dubbed `Wench Boat'.

"Just follow us on Fishin' Boy and we can switch!" Trasker shouted back.

"As I was sayin'," Auggie continued, "y'all might see if that marina place
is for sale an' if it ain't, make the dude some serious offers until it
is. You could add in one o' them Dead Lobster Restaurants lookin' out over
the docks so as we don't have to travel so far an' any other businesses
like a marine supply store or dive shop, as is likely to make
money. Advertise however yo' want until someone says stop; an' then
threaten to take `em to court fo' the next hundred years or so," he
suggested.

Since Trasker was alone with his Uncle Auggie, Ryan and Zeek, a rare
occurrence, Trasker's eyes began to water when he thought about leaving
them for college in January. He didn't expect Auggie to give him a fierce
shoulder hug at that moment, as if his uncle was reading his thoughts; they
would miss him as well.

"Y'all can just come home weekends if yo' ain't busy," Auggie advised
Trasker with a grin. "I been talkin' to Margery and Dom about them little
airplanes Margery an' Tony boy flit around in. Tony boy flies his own, but
Margery keeps a crew. They tell me that with the economy in the shit house
an' still on the slide, them little jets is almost free. I bought one the
same size as Margery's with a crew that y'all can keep at the airport in
Athens an' use to fly down here anytime yo' want; or right to Redlands if'n
we put in a strip on some flat land that's been timbered. How's that sound
as an idea?"

"You bought me a jet so I can come home weekends? Holy shit Unc!" Trasker
just found that he could still be surprised by his uncle's use of his
immense wealth. "Thanks, I'll be sure to use it every weekend so I won't
miss you as much."

"Y'all are most welcome Nephew," Auggie said with pride. "There's somethin'
else yo' need to do afore yo' start studyin'; that's take Dooby boy up
there to Athens with yo' to find some place nice to live just like Tony boy
did up in Daytona Beach. I expect there ought to be some nice houses that
maybe survived the war or was rebuilt an' been fixed up like Redlands but
without as much land left to work, or maybe find somethin' that's almost
new, big enough an' upside down with the bank. Make some calls to one o'
them real estate fellers first though, I miss doubt you'd be as lucky as
Tony boy was at just drivin' up to a place with a homemade sign out front."
Auggie continued, "You'll need some wheels too; buy local in Athens if they
got something yo' like on the lot. I expect them boys need the business an'
will appreciate the trade with a college boy who's got cash money to
spend. Oh, one more thing, whilst your up there, see if there's a closed up
bank buildin' or one that's about to go bust. Work with Jimmy to open a
Chambers branch bank right there in town. That way y'all won't have to open
no new accounts an' yo can save on gettin' new checks printed."

Trasker and Ryan burst out laughing together. "Holy shit again Unc,"
Trasker chortled, "there's at least 10 bucks saved right there!"

The crewman that was holding an extra-large harness and life vest had heard
every word and started laughing too. Auggie hoisted an eyebrow in his
direction, "Yo' plannin to hook me up before or after we get to Africa? I
think we missed the Bahamas an' if we hear one snippet of our conversation
after we get back, y'all can plan on joinin' your uptight friend at the
airport. Understood?"

"What," the boy shouted with a grin; he didn't seem to be intimidated,
"I've been around loud boat engines too much and I have some hearing
loss. Do you want to fly anytime soon or do you just want a ride to Africa
like I think you said?" He countered in a voice that was just under a
scream.

Auggie blinked in surprise before he grinned. He told Trasker as quietly as
the boat noise would allow; "There stands a back talkin' smart ass; he's
definitely management material at the new marina."

"We haven't even bought it yet!" Trasker protested but he agreed with a
nod.

Wench Boat was idled pointed into the wind when Fishin' Boy overtook it and
paralleled it close enough for the gang, who was spread out from the bow
sprit to the stern and up on the lofty tuna tower sans shorts, to shout
ribald comments while they watched a few too many hands assist Auggie in
donning a life vest and a harness that would connect him to the
parachute. The first item of interest they noted was that Auggie was
ticklish.

Zeek used a stiff finger to demonstrate how ticklish to Ryan, Trasker and
the alleged hearing impaired parasailing professional, who claimed the name
of Mason Dixon. While Trasker and Ryan tested the fact lightly, Mason,
with Zeek's encouragement and help, had Auggie screaming with laughter,
pushing their fingers away from his sides and firing them alternately,
repeatedly.

The gang began protesting that the life vest covered up most of Auggie's
favorite Hawaiian shirt that had been imprinted with virtually every known
day-glow color. They wondered how they would find him after splash down,
after the resulting tsunami subsided. Mason laughed at that comment and
looked around Auggie's body, across the water at the guys aboard Fishin'
Boy.

"Holy shit!" Mason exclaimed before he thought, "Those guys are all buck
naked! Wow!" He was holding a smallish bundle of yellow cloth and was
behind Auggie making metallic clicking sounds.

"Yo' seen one, yo seen `em all, more or less, but they a pretty sight all
together from this here distance," Auggie agreed.

"Get ready! All set! Go!" Mason shouted to his partner Ian, the boat
driver, not to Auggie. Power was increased. Mason deployed the chute
behind Auggie, which filled quickly. His big body was temporarily pulled in
two directions; the chute dragged him back and the tow rope resisted. With
still more power, his feet suddenly left the platform and his body went
prone facing forward. Mason played out the tow rope slowly and Auggie both
dropped back behind the boat and rose into the sky simultaneously until he
was 400 feet above the two boats that were racing into the wind.

"How are you doing up there?" Mason asked Auggie from inside his safety
helmet.

"We can talk back an' forth?" Auggie shouted.

"Sure, there're earphones and a mic built in the helmet. No need to shout,
we have speakers built into the boat so everyone can hear you. It's more
fun that way."

"One thing y'all forgot Mason boy," Auggie reminded.

"What's that?"

"Y'ALL FORGOT TO ASK ME IF I WAS READY!" Auggie screamed.

Mason laughed into the open mic, "I used to ask that, but first-timers like
you always seemed to spend five minutes of flying time thinking up reasons
why they weren't ready, so I skip that step."

"Mason boy," Auggie promised, "when we get to shore, I'm fixin' to
introduce y'all to my walkin' stick! Meanwhile can I go somewhat higher?
This here ride is a blast."

"Say when."

Mason played out more line, "WHEN!" Auggie shouted and added "I sure wish I
thought to bring a camera. From up here, Fishin' Boy sure is some sight all
decked out with the boys like it is."

"We should add a camera to the helmet," Trasker said to Mason, "then we
could burn a DVD of the whole experience and send them out to satisfied
customers for another 50 bucks."

Mason agreed. "Yup and if we had a hand held down here, we could add the
customer actually flying for only another 50 bucks. That way we could
double our gross if they buy the disc."

Auggie didn't know the ride was ending until he saw the ocean and the boats
getting closer and although he wanted a longer ride, Zeek wanted his turn
and refused to pay Mason for additional flying time. In the end, Auggie had
to admit that 10 minutes flying for him was equal to an hour of isometric
exercise. He'd held his whole body rigidly the whole time waiting for a
strap to part or a snap to fail. Flying was exciting and exhilarating and
while he wanted another turn, Mason wouldn't hear of it. Auggie had to get
in the back of the line that included all the boys on Fishin' Boy.

Auggie's landing was totally unsuitable to be documented digitally if they
had cameras, but he made it – just, with Mason, Zeek, Trasker and Ryan's
help to keep him from going in the drink and when he was safely back
onboard Wench Boat, he was physically done for the day. While the boys
could transfer from boat to boat easily, there was no way Auggie was ever
going to switch boats at sea so after Zeek and the two boys' rides, both
boats went back into the dock. It was fortunate that tides in the Keys
weren't too drastic because Auggie only had a 12 inch step up to the dock
from the boat much like he did from and to Fishin' Boy's swim platform and
the dock at the Dead Lobster. He made that move too with help and was happy
to hug a roof support temporarily until he found his land legs and ventured
a few steps to his scooter.

Returning to Coral Place turned out to be a mistake for certain boys that
Scott and Christian greeted with a reminder that they were supposed to be
working; filmed while cooking or posing for Orsini photos and specifically
NOT flying anywhere that day. However, it seemed that Jennifer and Lane
were essentially done for the day so they could go parasailing. Jennifer
adroitly intercepted her brother Dooby because he was carrying his shorts –
and money necessary to pay for their rides, originally money to pay for as
many rides as he could manage. Dooby gave in gracefully and loaned the
couple $600 which he really didn't expect returned since neither Lane nor
Jennifer had been paid as yet, beyond $1000's in clothing and expenses.

The younger Bradley boys; Kurt, Carl, David and Allen were also free and
were to be accompanied by Darryl and Alex, informally, to keep them out of
trouble. The elder Carl didn't realize how difficult it was for Darryl and
Alex to play nursemaids to the younger bunch who had become veteran `bed
hoppers' in the Bradley mansion and any one or more of the younger boys
could occasionally be found at night `nursing' Darryl and/or Alex dependent
on who was sleeping where.

When the younger boys saw that Alex and Darryl were wearing board shorts,
they dressed accordingly, until Jennifer dressed Lane in a revealing
European bikini. Then they switched to Speedo tank suits that were also way
too small and equally revealing.

On the short trip out of the cove, Ian, the boat driver and Mason's
partner, and Mason, explained that a tandem harness was available if anyone
wanted to fly together. Lane only heard two words; tandem and
together. `Little Lane' with a mind of his own, who was not so little,
immediately breeched the waistband of Big Lane's little suit, it wanted to
see what `together' and `tandem' were all about within the context of
parasailing.

Jennifer noticed and her first concern was that Lane's suit was restricting
the blood flow to Little Lane's head so she told Lane to remove the suit
and cover himself with her towel. Sympathy erections abounded within
seconds and the other boys including Darryl and Alex shed their very
uncomfortable bathing attire. Only none of them planned to get wet and not
being girls, they were unprepared, so there weren't any other towels. Mason
and Ian looked at each other, shrugged, and removed their baggy board
shorts too.

Jennifer looked around the large seating area briefly before she snatched
her towel away from Lane, put it over her head and covered Little Lane once
again only the towel began to move up and down in time with Lane's moans
while one of Lane's hands found its way into Jennifer's bikini bottom and
he appeared to be doing something with his fingers where her cock would be
if she was a boy. Inquisitive Kurt with a `K' wanted to see if a girl gave
head like a guy, so when the hetero couple were well involved, he snatched
the towel away from Jennifer and Little Lane just in time to see that she
was capable of swallowing it right down to its neatly barbered roots while
humming a nameless tune.

The boys paired up with their partners in great haste and began to emulate
Jennifer, including deep throating while keeping their eyes open to watch
the impromptu show in which they were also players. Once again Mason looked
at Ian in question. Ian put the boat in neutral and they joined the orgy
as well while Wench Boat drifted in the tropical breeze.

Trasker looked through the old tripod mounted telescope that sat just
inside the great room window wall. Of course he couldn't see the boat but
he thought he should be seeing the para sailors. For some unknown reason,
no one was flying.

He didn't need the telescope to see flyers in the far distance 30 minutes
later but when he used it to see who was flying, he began laughing. Lane
and Jennifer were flying tandem and both were obviously naked since there
were no strips of bright color where bathing suits should be.

########

"Oliver," Margery began when they were alone in the galley fixing breakfast
for everyone else in the salon, "last evening at dinner, I noticed that you
were wearing a shirt that had a very distinctive double `O' logo stitched
on it." Ollie turned pale and buttered a slice of toast a second time. "Did
you know that I too am in the real estate business and believe I knew your
father? I was very sorry to hear of your parents' passing so tragically
several years ago and I'm sorry that I didn't know they had a son. You know
you look very much like your father? Two peas in a pod as Auggie would
say."

Margery's attempt at humor resulted in Ollie's glistening eyes and a
stuttered attempt to thank her before he realized who she might be. "Are
you that Margery Thurston?" He asked and then assumed the answer, "The
Company has leased yours some land to build a high end office campus in
Oakland, some shopping malls and office towers scattered around and some
other stuff, I forget where. I used to check up on the business before I
left home," he admitted. "You won't tell anyone who I am, will you?"

"No dear, if you have some reason to be in hiding. Did you run away?"
Margery almost said `from home', but stopped herself.

Ollie sighed pitifully and even took off his prized First Mate's cap to run
his fingers through his blond mop of hair before he answered in a low
voice. "I'm pretty sure my aunt and uncle want me to die before I turn 18."
Margery contrived to look suitably shocked to protect Jonathon as she
promised. Ollie shook his head several times in nonverbal support of his
accusatory statement before the whole sordid, pieced-together story rushed
out.

Ollie's uncle was his father's older brother who was jealous of his little
brother inheriting the family real estate empire. He was further frustrated
by little brother's success not just managing the business, but expanding
the business as well. The uncle was one of those sons who chose the good
life rather than take an active interest in the business and was shocked to
discover that he had been all but disinherited except for the proceeds of a
generous trust fund. The second shock was to discover that his kid brother,
Ollie's father, was the primary beneficiary of the controlling interest as
well as the individual who held his trust funds' purse strings in a
clenched fist; that is, Ollie's father applied the rule; no work – no
pay. Inevitably, jealousy turned into hatred. Someone was paid to `fix'
Oliver's airplane, perhaps the hydraulics, so that the controls would
freeze at high altitude, which finally occurred high in the Rocky
Mountains. Little Ollie became an orphan and his uncle became his guardian.

Once again the uncle was shocked to discover that he was not to inherit the
business; it was left in trust for Ollie until he reached age 18 but at
least his uncle was named as the sole trustee as well as guardian so all
was not lost. Getting rid of the `brat' was easy at first. Ollie the brat,
a three year old, could easily be contained and isolated with a story that
he was allergic to everything and everyone, but as time passed things
became more and more complicated.

Ollie's uncle was a murderer but not a masochist. He should have confined
the brat to a locked room from the beginning. He didn't and Ollie quickly
graduated from a bedroom and play room to the run of the whole house. At
that point he was told that the servants; assorted minders and tutors, had
been miraculously inoculated against infecting Ollie with any and all
microbes to which he was purported to be susceptible. He had to be allowed
outside after he was discovered to be outside for several hours with no ill
effects. He was playing at being a secret agent that the bad guys, the
staff, his minders, couldn't find if he didn't want to be found. In this
instance, the whole area around the house was magically purified to keep
the little brat contained, isolated and content.

At first Ollie was given whatever he asked for before he became conversant
with a computer. At that point he simply bought whatever he wanted;
whatever a top secret agent required to be the best in his field. He
quickly discovered that the best, smallest and most sensitive spy cams and
listening devices were available to an intelligent boy with too much time
on his hands and a bottomless bank account. The teenage brat was still
mostly contained, isolated and content until he began asking questions
about the business, the terms of his father's will, the trust and most
embarrassing, where had all the profits gone.

Ollie became a skilled interrogator as a capable secret agent must be. He
particularly enjoyed questioning his aunt, not the brightest bulb in the
box, on the rare occasions when his uncle wasn't present and they were
paying him a visit that were also rare occasions. Out of the blue, he would
ask how a yacht could possibly cost 50 million dollars, or, why did he own
so many homes around the world when to the best of his recollection, he'd
only lived in the one he was living in? He actually rudely asked if he
could see the entire collection of jewelry he owned but had no use for!
Once he even had the audacity to ask why his personal portfolio didn't
include any gambling casino shares since apparently his beloved uncle was a
constant major contributor to those corporations, once again around the
world, conveniently located near wherever Ollie owned a home.

Discussions about what to do with the brat became more intense when he was
in the middle of his 16th year of life. Fortunately for Ollie, his aunt and
uncle were visiting. Ollie knew from extensive reading and watching TV and
major motion pictures that monitoring `pillow talk' was essential,
particularly when he was the major subject of the conversation. It was
decided that Ollie should be miraculously cured through the use of a newly
discovered wonder drug that was widely referred to as a placebo, or more
specifically, economically and most readily available without any
questions; aspirin.

Once cured and free, he would be encouraged to spread his wings, literally
and figuratively. He would get his driver's license and encouraged to drive
the fastest but not the safest cars. He would get his solo pilot's license
and be gifted with a small plane which he might crash while seeking and
participating in the most thrilling and dangerous sports and hobbies
wherever they might be found. He would discover diving and sport fishing in
Mexico where there was always the chance that he would be killed in the
ongoing drug wars or if really unlucky, he might be kidnapped and then
killed when the ransom was not forthcoming in a timely manner. His aunt and
uncle hoped that sometime during the scant year and one half before he
reached age 18, that Ollie would have a fatal accident because if he didn't
manage that on his own or with their help, they would surely lose
everything to the brat.

Ollie was in no hurry to flee at first; there was too much to do and see in
real life that was more exciting than watching on a computer monitor or
TV. His first priority was learning to fly. His father was a pilot and
loved to fly. His first plane was a gift from his `loving' guardians; it
wasn't new, it wasn't pretty and it hadn't even been reconditioned. He flew
commercial while he had all that changed. He had the engine, and the
mechanical systems replaced. He installed the latest in avionics and
supported the more powerful engine with two additional custom built fuel
tanks fitted into the fuselage which also increased his range. Lastly, he
photographed another plane, the same make and model as his that was based
in the same local airport that the owner rarely used. The only obvious
difference between the two planes was that Ollie's was sparkling white with
blue trim and the other was red. He photo shopped his registration number
on the more memorable red plane before he sent the picture to his aunt and
uncle.

Ollie was enjoying his life so much, he got complacent. He could go and do
whatever he wanted and of course he kept up with his studies wherever he
might be. After a few months of freedom to engage in the most thrilling and
dangerous activities, it did not appear to his aunt and uncle that Ollie
was likely to have a fatal accident so it became necessary to help him
along. This conversation was recorded by the pillow talk, voice activated
microphones attached low on the headboard that were sensitive enough to
pick up whispers.

Originally, there was also a bedroom video feed which wasn't at all
enlightening until one night he watched his middle-aged aunt and uncle
actually do `IT'; in the vernacular, also referred to as fucking. That
scene was enough to remove and relocate that camera straight into a bedroom
in a cottage that was shared by the two young groundskeepers. All the staff
`lived in' to continue the polite fiction that the whole estate was
quarantined and those individuals who lived in the big house had always
been `fair game' for surveillance but the cottage was Ollie's first remote
operation.

He was enthralled by those video recordings; a `how to' gay sex education
manual that reinforced the lessons demonstrated each and every night and
frequently at lunch time that included mutual head jobs and sometimes real
sandwiches if time permitted. While the sexual proclivities of the
groundskeepers confirmed Ollie's orientation, they were a distraction that
had nothing to do with discovering when his aunt and uncle planned his
untimely sudden demise.

Ollie didn't hear the fateful recording until a week later, he'd flown
himself to Mexico to fish but while his plane wasn't parked at the airport,
the red one was. While he didn't know if that plane had been tampered with,
he took the precaution of calling the owner to conversationally ask what
modifications he had done to his hydraulics and why were they done in the
plane park area instead of the shop? The red plane owner thanked Ollie and
said he'd have the shop mechanic check his whole plane thoroughly since he
was in the middle of an acrimonious, hate filled divorce and custody battle
with his soon to be ex-wife.

Ollie was ready; his backpack was full to overflowing even including a few
clothes. He'd committed his course to memory, all short hops; small airport
to small airport, all unmanned (no towers or air traffic controllers),
first way far north, then south, then north once again but always slightly
east and definitely south until he reached the Florida Keys. As far away as
he could get away from his home in California – and his aunt and uncle,
and remain in the continental United States.

Michael, Ben and Danny had relieved Ollie and Margery of their duties in
the galley and Ollie barely blinked when he was served shell-free eggs,
Eggo waffles and brown and serve sausage links. "That's how I got to a
little grass strip in the middle of Key Largo where I left my plane," Ollie
began concluding his story. "I took taxis on the ground, between Keys, kind
of hopping between towns. I always asked the drivers about the towns ahead
and Marathon turned out to be spread out with lots of water on both sides
of the highway and not very commercialized that had an airport so I decided
to look around." He giggled, "The whole town was buzzing about an old
bankrupt resort on the Gulf side that was being renovated by some local
with no budget. I decided to check it out the next morning on interview day
and some guys about to be interviewed explained what was happening. They
invited me to try for a job since I appeared to be qualified." He looked
down his sleek body and blushed before he added; "Even though they couldn't
see all of my qualifications."

"I was about to go inside when I saw Auggie and Zeek pull in, in that
million dollar RV bus," Ollie grinned, "I own a couple of those too thanks
to my uncle, so I decided to check that out first. I'm sure glad I did. Now
all I have to do is lay low for a few months until I'm 18 and my closest
relatives will be out on the street with nary a pot to pee in, nor winder
to toss it out from, to quote Auggie. That is if you'll just forget you
know me Granny."

"What was your name again young man?" Margery asked with a smile.

Ollie took his first bite of waffle and frowned at the three volunteer
cooks. "I hate to hurt your feelings guys, but these waffles don't taste
very good."

"Maybe that's because they're frozen," Michael responded and held up the
box.

"Frozen, really, what will they think of next?" Ollie asked.

Stevie's grandmother, Agatha, expressed a new concern; "If you think you
are safe from your avaricious relatives after your 18th birthday, you are
very wrong. Do you have a will? To whom will you bequeath your estate?" she
asked. When she saw Ollie pale, she continued, "That's what I
thought. Even if you had a will and left these horrid people half, they
would still file suit in a quest for the other half," she prophesied. "And
if you should pass on your birthday intestate; without a will, guess who
would inherit everything anyway?"

The questions Agatha raised gave Margery her opening. "Perhaps what we
should do is force them to act against you aggressively so we might catch
them red handed. They might really begin searching for you if a syndicate
of capitalists suddenly offered to buy Olsen Assets outright. A limited
time offer, perhaps by the end of the year, for tax purposes, let us say?
We could hint at your location, they would have to send someone to do you
in, or do it themselves. They could never just sabotage your airplane and
hope for the best this time, unlike what they did to your parents. They
couldn't just wait for you to have a planned accident," she asserted.

Ollie smiled weakly. "That all sounds good Granny, but without bragging,
the company would cost your capitalist group an awful lot of money if the
offer was legitimate or appear to be legitimate. Where would you find the
capitalists? They'd want some names to go with the offer."

"Well, it's obvious that you haven't looked at Auggie or his guests very
closely," Margery chided, "I think that between us, we could make such an
offer appear to be legitimate. Any of us could invite investigation into
our financial interests; at least in a general way and I think they would
find that jointly, we really do have the wherewithal to support an offer of
this size."

"If someone came after me, where would I be since they wouldn't be using a
sabotaged hydraulic hose to take me out? Remember, it would have to look
like an accident or the cops would be all over them," Ollie wondered as his
self-taught training as a secret agent kicked in.

Agatha laughed, "You would be quite safe right here at Coral Place. The
guards on land are really County Sheriffs so they're armed and you've seen
the patrol boats, those men are all County Marine Patrol Officers. Or if
you really want to feel safe I'm sure Mr. Bligh would allow you to stay at
his farm in Georgia. My grandson Stevie began working for him there and I
wouldn't have allowed it if he was in the slightest danger. Before he moved
there, you simply wouldn't believe the expense of having him tailed around
the streets of Atlanta just to keep the foolish boy safe."

"Why would a farm in Georgia be safer than right here?" Ollie asked.

"Because dear boy, Redlands Plantation is somewhere around 20,000 acres in
size and I'm told that there are over 600 employees and their families
living on the property; all of whom look to Auggie for their daily bread
and butter. Put another way, Auggie is their golden goose and his people
would do anything to protect him and those who live in the big house with
him," Agatha promptly replied, pleased that she could reveal some of the
results of her costly investigation into Auggie's private affairs and
decadent lifestyle even if it was obtained after Stevie had already taken
up residence there.

"Okay then, I think if I have a choice, I'd like to stay here. I never want
to be isolated again and I think I've made some good friends here," Ollie
stated and grinned when Michael, Ben and Danny nodded their
agreement. "Next question; how do I let my uncle know where I am without
being obvious about it?"

"Do you have a credit card?" Margery asked. When Ollie nodded in the
affirmative, she suggested that he use it to buy some big ticket item that
would surely get their attention back at home in California.

Ollie's delighted grin exposed most of his well-tended teeth, "I know, I
could establish residency and then get my Florida driver's license and buy
a car and a boat and maybe a house?" Ollie's exuberance was infectious and
got everyone in the salon laughing.

"In the short term," Michael suggested, "how about paying to stay at the
Club for a week or so? That would get their attention immediately. There
wouldn't be any uniformed, armed guards around to scare anyone away but the
entire staff would have your back 24/7 and a stranger wearing clothes would
stand out like the proverbial sore thumb. You could move about wherever you
want; come over here, go out fishing, get your license, whatever you wanted
to do but you'd always be surrounded by friends. Those friends would always
be watching out for people who were interested in you by asking questions
about you or the Club. That would work and we all have cell phones."

Suddenly the engines dropped to idle. Ollie looked out the big windows but
of course couldn't see anything but water. There was nothing to see until
Jonathon entered the salon frowning, he put his hands on his hips and
tapped his foot. "We've been in the (Gulf) Steam for half an hour and I was
just wondering if my mate was going to put out the baits so these ladies
could catch some fish?"

Ollie smiled beatifically, "You can't fool me Captain Sir; that was a hint,
right? We were just talking and guess what? When we get back I'm signing us
up for a whole month at the Club! We can go fishing every day, or go out
diving on Dildo, whatever we want to do! Isn't that great?"

Jonathan hid his smile and simply said, "Baits, fish, ladies, TODAY!"

Ollie ran for the deck like a scalded cat and then immediately returned on
his tip toes like a sneak thief. He grabbed his forgotten hat and quickly
retraced his steps before Jonathon could shout again. Ben and Danny went to
help Ollie and Bernie and Agatha went to watch. That is they went to watch
through the view finders of their small video cameras purchased from Amazon
the day they arrived and then shipped to the Club overnight. Rodger proved
to be an excellent teacher for Margery to improve her computing skills
despite the built in camera that remained covered with a Band-Aid and he
gave all three ladies a crash course in downloading video to their laptops
so they were three very happy amateur videographers and Michael, Ben and
Danny among others at the Club were happy to be the `stars' of their
amateur productions.

#######

There was one guest that went diving who was one unhappy camper when Dildo
was tied up in a slip at the marina, not at the dock at Coral Place. He was
not going to get in the house to have a closer look at what he was sure was
a Picasso original. He was more certain after he was denied entry that
morning and then not allowed to return to the property in the afternoon or
ever again – or so the fat guy who owned the place and the painting
thought.

At first getting in to the house was a matter of pride mixed with anger,
but then the value of the painting entered the picture. The painting was
known to exist but the owner was unknown as was its location. Renting a
small boat and sneaking in would actually serve no purpose except most
likely to get themselves arrested for trespassing. But having the painting
reproduced and then sneaking in to switch canvasses months later after they
were forgotten was entirely possible with some advance planning and if the
substitution was accomplished by professional sneak thieves.

The painting would have to be authenticated and then it could be auctioned
quickly and quietly by advising selected qualified collectors of its
availability and the auction date and time. The seller and buyer's names
would remain confidential and two Beverly Hills wheeler-dealers could
retire with all the profits, not just a piddling commission while the
hayseed could continue to enjoy looking at the forgery, totally unawares.

######

Wednesday, the day before the holiday, Dooby was put in charge of touring
Coral Place. He had been forbidden to mention the name, Frank Lloyd Wright,
as a condition of his producing the segment, and he agreed but he refused
to reveal how he planned his portion of the show. No one was surprised that
Dooby, Cory and Spook the camera man, failed to show up for breakfast nor
did anyone take more than passing notice of a helicopter that was flitting
around off shore in the distance, except it was a signal to the gang
generally that Dooby deemed the sun high enough for the morning fish
feeding ritual to take place out at the end of the dock.

Since the Dildo and Hobby boats had been relocated to the nearby marina,
Wench Boat had been tied up in Dildo's vacant space and while it was still
a pay to parasail operation, Trasker, with Mason and Ian as the operators
didn't want for well-heeled customers that were living at Coral Place or
Auggie's guests staying at the Club. Wednesday morning Mason and Ian
arrived early and found that Rodger and Little Zeek with James and Steve
were already aboard and ready to go. Wench Boat left the dock as the
helicopter zoomed in to hover over the cove to capture the fish feeding
frenzy from the air with Spook zooming his camera lens in and out with the
morning sun illuminating both the fish with the low angle also lighting the
guys on the dock very nicely. Shorts were optional and of course everyone
on the dock opted out.

Auggie had just finished breakfast when he heard the distinctive sound of
Fishin' Boys' engines power up. When he looked out, he saw Trasker and Ryan
up on the fly bridge with Dooby's brother Artie holding his camera and with
Stevie and Logan preparing to cast off with all of them waving at Wench
Boat as it passed them heading out of the cove. "ZEEK come on, I'm thinkin'
the boys is doin' a flyin' promo this mornin' let's watch from Fishin'
Boy!" Auggie shouted. He already had his scooter running at full speed
toward the dock, while shouting for the boys to wait for him and Zeek. He
slowed to allow Zeek to catch up when Trasker waved.

As soon as the men boarded, the ramp was raised, the stern doors were
closed and secured, the lines were tossed and Logan and Stevie jumped
aboard all accomplished with efficient, practiced ease. "Dooby chartered
that chopper to get some aerial views of the whole island, the house and
the guys feeding the fish from the air," Stevie explained. "Then last night
in bed Dooby suggested that since the production company is paying for the
chopper it would be a good time to get some parasailing footage from the
air, you know, from alongside, above and in front of the flyer. We got
little video cameras attached to the helmets and of course a camera for Ian
and Mason to use on the boat was no problem at all."

"And guess what Unc;" Trasker added with excitement in his voice,
"parasailing from Wench Boat is going to be clothes optional! We're goin'
to be the only clothing optional parasailin' operation in the whole blamed
world; or at least we can always advertise that we were the first if it
catches on!"

"The hell yo' say!" Auggie laughed at the boy's enthusiasm if not the idea
of them convincing anyone to fly buck naked especially after Lane and some
of the Bradley bunch, the first to try it, reported that every one of them
got raging erections while high in the sky, which they couldn't do anything
about until after touch down back on the boat. As soon as they landed
someone was there to relieve them of their problems – another
parasailing first.

Stevie was more reassuring, "Yup, I was tellin' Granny about our idea and
she booked flights for the lady's three `personal assistants'" he used
finger quotes to be polite, "on Friday before they all fly out to
California on that Ollie business. The ladies are payin' up front just to
watch the guys and of course record the flights with their very own cameras
and then makin' their own DVD's now that Rodger showed them how."

"What so ever you film has got to be mostly clean," Auggie cautioned, "else
wise yo' end up with an ad fo' a floatin' gay boy whorehouse, which won't
get yo' no business beyond a mess o' downloads."

"The finished product will be Unc," Trasker assured, "Rodger's doin' the
editing and has already blocked out our web site. Mason and Ian know to
keep their board shorts on the whole time and," he couldn't resist a
giggle, "ole Rodger's makin' up copies of the out-takes for all of
us. Remember Rodger's gonna be in the ad too, so there won't be any
mistakes."

Auggie rolled his eye up to the fast approaching chopper. He mumbled to
Zeek, "With Dooby boy runnin' this show, this is fixin' to be most
interestin', he a mistake just waitin' to happen. That's why our shows are
so successful." He rubbed is finger tips together; the classic sign for
money.

That seemed to be the signal for the helicopter to catch up to the boats
and swoop down almost on top of Fishin' Boy until Trasker warned them away
no matter what Dooby wanted. He had a handheld radio. "Chopper, be
advised that we got a 20 foot antenna on top of our tuna tower and if you
hit it, we'd appreciate it if y'all would crash somewhere other than on top
of us."

"No worries Fishin' Boy," Dooby answered promptly as the chopper gained
altitude and moved behind the sport fisherman, "we were still 200 feet
above you but it seemed closer, didn't it?" He couldn't resist asking,
accompanied by a giggle. The guys on the boat, including Auggie and Zeek
looked up to see Dooby's head and arm outside a window and waving at them
and one and all responded with their middle fingers.

Auggie took the radio from Trasker and shouted; "Let's get the show on the
road here Dooby boy, that chopper is costin' a mint o' money to be playin'
around."

Dooby laughed into the mic, "The production company is paying Auggie, we're
saving Trasker a pile of money," he defended.

"Just who do y'all think owns the production company?" Auggie snapped back,
apparently exasperated but privately amused at Dooby's first venture into
financial manipulation; the old tried and true, `robbing Peter to pay
Paul,' or having the production company pay for the advertising for
Trasker's new business. Trasker just grinned and shrugged.

There was a pregnant pause in communications before Dooby scolded generally
silent Spook, the cameraman, for always fooling around. The back passenger
door had been removed and Spook was sitting on the deck with his feet
dangling in space. He was securely strapped into the chopper and his camera
was securely strapped to him so he could actually lean out and point his
camera straight down without fear of falling. He advised Dooby and everyone
else with a radio that all that could change rapidly and Dooby could find
himself diving into the ocean from 500 feet if HE kept fooling around.

With that warning everyone got down to business. Rodger and Little Zeek
flew tandem in the nude to start with and then James and Steve each flew
solo twice; once with and the second time without wearing shorts. Then
Rodger and Little Zeek had to fly a second time wearing shorts because more
experienced Spook pointed out that while none of the guys wearing helmets
and goggles would be recognizable and could be photographed nude as they
began their flights, at the point they became erect, that part of their
anatomy would have to be edited out and a young athletic male body without
a cock attached would look strange. Artie agreed from his advantage up at
the control station on top of the tuna tower. Dooby and Trasker
reluctantly agreed and consoled themselves with the fact that they had all
the out-takes plus what happened after the flyers returned to Wench Boat
was a lucky bonus since those activities were never to be included in any
of the future ads anyway.

Once back on the ground, and back at Coral Place, it was time to tour Coral
Place; just the great room, the study, the dining room and the kitchen. The
small fireplace in the great room had been lit for the first time and
candles burned everywhere the Christmas decorator thought
appropriate. While Dooby never mentioned or alluded to the architect, he
felt free to once again wonder how the massive slabs of coral rock had been
incorporated into the poured concrete walls and used one finger to close
and reopen the unique window wall system that seemed to disappear when
open. He managed to display some of the Wright designed furniture by simply
flopping or vaulting a sofa back and snuggling into the carefully contoured
upholstery while pointing out tables that were weirdly beautiful but wholly
functional.

Spook assured Dooby that the art work could be photographed in flashes and
then the subject matter could be subtly distorted and colors could be added
or subtracted so eventual TV viewers, even experts, were unlikely to
realize what they were actually glimpsing. No one who lived at Coral Place
considered who the artists were who were responsible for any of the
assorted sculpture that graced all the rooms, so it was all photographed
and wouldn't be retouched. After all who in their right mind would
consider an odd looking lump of clay or a miss-shaped headless torso of a
woman (who someone had clothed in a Maroon 5 tee shirt) with two different
sized boobs of any value except perhaps as a temporary clothes rack until
Mattie caught the offender?

The lights had been left turned off but the rooms were bright with suffused
light that was tinted pink because the skylights had once again been
lightly overgrown by the controlled growth of the once rampant
Bougainvillea vines in almost constant full bloom growing over the concrete
roof. Dooby pointed out that the flowering vines also served as excellent
insulators, which the un-named architect intended.

The dining room table had been completely formally set that Spook recorded
with his back to the troublesome Picasso so his camera saw the table, the
other walls, and through the open door into the kitchen. The decorator had
topped the framed prints that hung on those walls with ground pine rope
which accented the prints. No one realized that prints of famous artist's
works that had been signed by Picasso or others and numbered were of any
unusual value even those numbered 1/10 and dated in the teens and twenties.

Chairs had been returned to the kitchen table temporarily. Auggie, Zeek and
the boys ate in the kitchen early on until Mattie arrived and she assumed
control of the kitchen and needed additional work space. She also didn't
appreciate being watched by a bunch of starving male raptors of any age
while she prepared their meals. The gang would eat in the kitchen until the
Christmas dinner preparation was complete and documented. Of course the
only objection came from Chef Brian who was cooking that day and as Spook
moved into the kitchen, he discovered half the boys, who weren't busy, plus
Auggie and Zeek as an audience while Brian attempted to get ahead of the
holiday baking.

Auggie, in consultation with the boys, wondered if fresh made cookie dough
tasted as good as it did in the popular ice cream with the same name. Kurt
with a `K' and his partner, Carl (the younger) judged that it did at the
expense of wearing a temporary red brand on their butts shaped exactly like
the wooden spoon Chef Brian was wielding. That corporal punishment took the
fun out of taste testing in Brian's kitchen and he was instantly accorded
the same respect the Bradley bunch gave their own irascible Chef Andre.

The boys, including Auggie and Zeek, fled the kitchen when the tour camera
arrived. There were still drinks, ice and half a bottle of 12 year old, 100
proof bourbon languishing in the boat cooler in the outdoor cooking area
where Kurt began to wheedle a tiny taste of the bourbon for him and Carl as
a pain reliever for their damaged posteriors. Auggie recognized that the
boys weren't members of the food police and successfully negotiated an
unlimited supply of drinks for himself and Zeek in return.

Spook placed his butt on the kitchen sink so the light from the windows
illuminated Chef Brian as he worked. Brian wasn't expecting to be included
in the house tour so he wasn't exactly dressed for the occasion; he was
wearing a snowy white apron, period, and was forced to back out of the room
outside to his van to dress in his proper uniform at the cost of some
unprotected cookies still on cooling racks closest to the dining room door.

#######

The first filmed preparations for the Christmas cooking show began at 4
o'clock in the morning Thanksgiving Day, and the finished Christmas dinner
would later be turned into Thanksgiving dinner after the cameras were
officially shut off, or at least ignored for the most part. While the table
groaning with holiday dishes would be prepared and displayed at Coral Place
in Christmas mode, no one was eating there. Additional food would be cooked
and it all would be consumed in the Club dining room at the official
Thanksgiving holiday, bridal and baby showers and wedding dinner
combined. Or, as Auggie described the day, `they were killin' all the damn
birds with one shot'. Of course for the wedding dinner to be successful,
Mattie and Jimmy's wedding, which was planned as a simple civil ceremony,
was scheduled to take place at the Club just prior to dinner.

Mattie and Jimmy arrived with sleepy Lane in the back seat to find that
Dooby and Cory, along with Scott and his entire production crew, was
already in the kitchen to greet them. Noise, not the usual odor of
breakfast, is what eventually briefly disturbed the residents and the many
young guests who were sleeping everywhere but in the bedroom dedicated as
the communal clothes closet and bed hopping was the routine rather than the
exception.

The long kitchen table had been moved from the end of the room to in front
of the stove and ovens so it could be used as an island work center just
like the kitchen studio at home. However the temporary work table separated
the sink from whoever was doing the prep work on the opposite side of the
table. Since the whole house, including the roof was constructed of poured
concrete, the resulting vaulted interior ceilings inside couldn't be
drilled just to temporarily attach an angled mirror, so Scott and Spook
dragged a wooden picnic table to under the big windows over the sinks, and
with the windows wide open, the prep work could be photographed by a
cameraman standing outside on the table. Artie would use a smaller camera
to wander around and Scott eventually would don his Steadicam.
Johnnie-Be-Good had Dooby and Cory wired plus he'd placed remote
microphones in out of the way places since Mattie already refused to wear a
personal mic or ear bud.

Mattie also refused to wear the cooking show jersey with her name
embroidered on the back. She argued successfully that she was the only
black and the only woman in the kitchen working with two very white boys
who were wearing jerseys; she assumed that the audience could figure out
who was who.

One of the first things Mattie did after entering the kitchen was to fetch
a beautiful new corn broom from the closet and prop it up against the end
of the table. Cory took one look at the broom and turned away with his
shoulders shaking. Dooby doubted that he was crying. "Mattie, I haven't
done anything," Dooby protested good naturedly.

"You forgot to add yet; that's just there as a reminder," Mattie answered
with a grin coupled with an arched eyebrow. "Now, let's get this show on
the road. You may start the cameras now," she told Scott.

"You're supposed to say, ACTION," Dooby informed.

"Whatever. Cory and I are going to bake a big batch of cornbread that we'll
use to make stuffing to start with," she informed everyone and the
cameras. "Meanwhile Dooby, you will season the bird under the skin to begin
with." She went on to offer a covered bowl that contained room temperature
butter and a bouquet of fresh herbs that Dooby would chop and mix with the
butter while Cory fetched the turkey from the refrigerator.

Dooby washed his hands at the sink and then decided to stay there to cut up
the herbs on a cutting board so Spook had a bird's eye view of the process
as well as what Mattie and Cory were doing behind the table in the middle
of the room. First Dooby removed each and every leaf, large and small from
their stems and tiny branches and maintained a running monologue with the
camera while he worked. Since he was wearing a microphone, he wasn't
talking loudly enough for Cory and Mattie to hear what he was saying.

Scott revealed the subject when he asked totally out of character; "What's
emus, alpacas and llamas got to do with thyme and basil and who the hell
are Camille and Carl Camel?"

"When did you add camels to the menagerie?" Cory managed to ask before he
burst out laughing.

Dooby wasn't as amused, "Man, Scott you have a big mouth," he accused, "I
was sneaking my request for some new pets into the show so Gramps would
have time to think it over before he said no, and this part could be edited
out."

"Good mornin'..." Auggie began sometime later until he looked into the
kitchen and saw the cameras and the turkey by looking over
Johnnie-Be-Good's shoulder. He was blocking the door with his sound board
"What's with breakfast?"

"It's all ready, but it's being served at the Club," Mattie answered. When
she saw Auggie's petulant expression, she elaborated before he could begin
a long list of complaints that were all breakfast oriented. "If you paid
attention to the schedule, you would've seen that we're getting Christmas
dinner ready here and we have no time to fix breakfast or lunch for you, so
you just scat on outta here."

Surprisingly, Auggie didn't argue. He asked Zeek to crank up the bus and
then stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly before he shouted;
"Any who wants breakfast, be on the bus in five minutes!"

Lane had just found some vacant space on an airbed occupied by Rodger and
Little Zeek and while Little Zeek was spooned to Rodger's back, Rodger
pulled Lane against his body as soon as a felt another guy's presence
without waking at first. The threesome woke up along with everyone else but
by then three sets of hips were already subconsciously in motion and the
boys assumed that they could catch a ride to the Club sometime later after
they showered and returned to the bed. Opportunities for many of the guys
to experience Lane's body were limited because he spent all his nocturnal
hours at the Club with Jennifer and Dooby had advertised Lane's prowess as
a lover since their two bodies were nearly identical physically, and they
would be brothers-in-law in the future, so of course, Dooby had sampled
Lane's `wares'...

While bare feet made no sound, sleep tussled boys and young men in various
states of excitement (morning wood) and undress began to pour into the
dining room mumbling complaints regarding lack of sleep, before they exited
onto the terrace when they saw that the kitchen door was blocked. They were
on the bus waiting to go before Zeek had time to deploy Auggie's elevator
entry. When Auggie did appear he was carefully balancing a cardboard box on
one thigh as if it contained eggs since he had no lap worth mentioning.
The box was imprinted, `Old Rip Van Winkle Distillery', and under the
company name, `Pappy Van Winkle's Family Reserve, 20 Years Old'.

"Can we sample some of that?" Kurt asked when he saw the box.

"Sorry young'un, not `til yo' get a heap long way from mixin' bourbon with
Coke or orange juice." Auggie declined.

"Did yor no account cousins buy dat still?" Zeek asked enthusiastically.

"Nope, weren't fo sale, but them ole boys stayin' right on my good side by
sendin' down this here gift," Auggie chortled.

Trasker was sitting opposite Auggie at his table. He was amused by his
uncle's obvious plan to begin celebrating the holiday a mite early with the
best sipping whiskey that only lots of money could buy. "I guess since this
is a holiday and we've got a passel of bourbon drinkin' guests, not to
mention Mattie gettin' married an' all; the food police are off duty for
the rest of the day," he allowed.

Breakfast at the Club turned out to be a riotous affair that for a certain
few was more liquid than solid as the bourbon drinkers rallied around a big
table out on the terrace where Auggie placed his precious case of bottles
in plain sight. A place safer than a bank vault or behind the bar, with the
case of bottles out in the open, there was no chance of a single bottle
`growing legs' to disappear before it was absolutely empty. The servers who
favored bourbon were the first to arrive with glasses and ice and invited
to stay and partake if they had the good sense to sniff the one open bottle
over the objections of the managing chefs. Several paying guests were
invited to pull up chairs after Auggie saw them ogling the box or the label
on the single open bottle with covetous eyes.

"Has anyone seen Lane?" Jennifer asked as she ran up to the table when she
noticed that the Coral Place residents had arrived for breakfast. She'd
already asked some of the guys and received only blank stares and shrugs
and she already knew that Dooby and Cory were working, so neither of them
would have been messing with her boyfriend at Coral Place.

Chuck Fulton, Lane's father was a bourbon drinker. He looked at his watch,
took a second sip of Pappy, winked at John Dubois and guessed; "I hope he's
sleeping somewhere. Fresh salt air is supposed to improve sleep but in
Lane's case it seems to cause insomnia; he looks like he hasn't slept a
wink since we got here."

John Dubois had been allowed to sit at Auggie's special table because he
didn't drink bourbon and would monitor Pappy's inventory while he resumed
sampling the many craft beers the Club had available. John choked on
hearing Chuck's observation while Jennifer only frowned as she wasn't in
the position of arguing because she was the cause of Lane's sleep
deprivation. Charlie and Tommy didn't contribute to Chuck Fulton's wonder
because they were laughing too hard

The men watched Jennifer stomp back into the building wearing a determined
expression that included a boyfriend killing frown as soon as she got her
hands on him. "That went well," John observed and laughed with Chuck. "Do
you know where he is?"

"Probably back at Coral Place, dead to the world since all the others are
over here having breakfast, so except for the kitchen it's totally silent
over there and that's a pretty big house."

Gus was happy to give Jennifer a ride to Coral Place and once there, she
didn't need directions to the bedrooms. Distinctive sounds led her straight
to the one that was occupied by Lane, Little Zeek and Rodger. Jennifer was
always interested in hearing the tales of Lane's forays into the world of
gay sex and he was happy to provide her with all the salacious details
particularly just before they made love, during in halting whispers and
after if he wanted to stimulate her in preparation for another `round'.

After Jennifer and Lane's first and last experience together with Dooby,
Cory and Christian in Charlie's pool cabana, Jennifer and Lane had
discussed the possibility of them getting together with other gay couples
just to see what would happen. They particularly enjoyed watching the
process of Rodger and Little Zeek becoming a couple. Both were young,
extremely attractive, supremely perpetually horny and best of all they
would become roommates at the same school the other Yankee boys attended so
if the first joining of the two couples was successful, there was always
the possibility of other adventures during weekend prep school functions
where their activities would be above reproach as Rodger and Little Zeek
would act as additional chaperones for the over-active hetero couple,
Jennifer and Lane.

Jennifer saw from the doorway that the three boys had showered very
recently and from the wet hair and slick bodies still covered with water
droplets, it was apparent that there had been an oil fight and none had
taken the time to towel off before joining in bed. Her view from the
doorway was at the foot of the bed so she saw three pairs of feet. Lane was
mounted on Rodger in the classic `missionary position' meaning Rodger's
spread legs were held up in the air and his feet bounced in time to Lane's
energetic thrusts. Normally if Lane was on top of the situation he crossed
his feet at the ankles for some reason, he claimed for comfort, but
Thanksgiving morning that wasn't possible because big Little Zeek had
spread that hedonist's legs and was sitting on his heels, all hunched over
between them. It was obvious from the rear view that Little Zeek had taken
a near microscopic interest in the puckered rosebud between Lane's muscular
ass cheeks evidenced by the movement of his head timed to Lane's movements.

Jennifer was having none of that. She stripped off her all-encompassing tee
shirt and bikini while she watched. If Little Zeek and/or Rodger had
already made deposits before her arrival, it was her responsibility to
remove it or them, just like Lane was most fastidious in removing every
single sperm he deposited in her every time or every other time he made his
deposits in her as a secondary means of birth control. It wasn't generally
known, but she forbade Lane, her lover, to swallow before they shared all
such deposits with a protracted kiss.

Jennifer pounced on Little Zeek's oil slicked back like a tigress and held
on for dear life when he stood on his knees briefly before falling forward
on top of Lane's back. That action caused a grunt from Lane as his rhythm
was destroyed and a yelp from Roger when he felt Lane's entire length
driven up to the hilt. It didn't hurt, but it was surprising.

Because of the relatively light weight on his back, Little Zeek assumed
incorrectly that Kurt was messing with him and as payback; he rolled off
Lane to flat on his back with his attacker buried underneath him. He rolled
off Jennifer laughing when she began tickling him. That was when he
discovered that he'd been squashing Jennifer, a very naked Jennifer, not
Kurt.

Little Zeek's smile froze on his face along with the rest of his body
including his very hard cock. "Jennifer, Jennifer," Little Zeek sort of
pled although he couldn't quite shift his eyes above Jennifer's waist. He
and all the other guys had seen the girls in photos and video, but seeing
the real thing so close by, just a touch away, was a very different thing
indeed.

"Don't be coy with me Zeek Chambers," Jennifer warned as she got
comfortable on her back, "You simply can't mess with my boyfriend unless
you mess with me too, so you just roll over one more time and I'll show you
what to do." She had refused to call him Little Zeek from the first time
she met him on the plane. He wasn't little when he was dressed in shorts
and shirt and when she saw him naked; he wasn't `little' there either.

There was no way Zeek could roll toward Jennifer without winding up on top
of her; the second time front to front. He obeyed somewhat like an
automaton until he looked down into her eyes while holding his upper body
up on his elbows. She stopped his movement with her hands on his
hips. "Okay, now lift up," she instructed, while her hands went down
between their bodies. "Okay, now sink back down." Zeek complied and his
whole body shivered. Jennifer giggled and looked to the side to see Lane
and Rodger watching them. "Zeek was just as fast as you were your first
time Sweetie," she told Lane, "and just like you, I think he has more," she
guessed correctly as Zeek began moving in her body without further
prompting or instruction. However she had further instructions for Sweetie;
"You better get done with Rodger pretty soon, because he's moving over here
as soon as Zeek is finished and then it's your turn."

While Jennifer and Zeek enjoyed the feeling of being watched, Lane and
Rodger enjoyed being the audience more. Rodger got so excited he began to
hyperventilate. Lane recognized the signs of Rodger's ill-timed explosion
without being touched and decided to try a trick he learned from Dooby and
Cory. He whispered hurried instructions to Rodger while he intensified his
thrusts so hopefully they would come together. Rodger nodded emphatically
and Lane pulled his legs up until he was sitting on his heels while he
pulled Rodger's body back and up his thighs to hopefully keep Rodger
attached. Rodger arched his body up as Lane bent double and was just in
time to take Rodger's spurting cock in his mouth. No waste.

Zeek was bug eyed at seeing such a fine gymnastics or wrestling display
while Jennifer frowned when she saw Lane swallow his reward for being
nearly double joined. "Lane Fulton, you are such a pig," Jennifer groused,
"that was supposed to be mine and I saw you swallow everything."

Rodger grabbed Lane's ears to pull his head to his mouth for a protracted
kiss. When he was satisfied he grinned at Jennifer and corrected, "Almost
everything," he advised.

Rodger's deflowering with a girl went more smoothly with no premature
ejaculation, which gave Zeek the opportunity to explore the newly deposited
contents of his lover boy's boy pussy while he was mounted on Jennifer
while Lane watched from the side. Lane grinned sheepishly when Jennifer
caught him playing with himself more and more aggressively while he watched
and batted his hand away from `her' cock.

Lane soon was able to replace Rodger on Jennifer except being properly
trained and an excellent student; he used his mouth in the vacuum mode and
made several quick trips up her body to share the bounty by mouth to mouth
until he was sure that no gay boy sperm remained. While Lane took care of
Jennifer, Rodger and Zeek cleaned each other just as fastidiously although
there was very little chance that either would ever experience pregnancy,
the act had become a ritual and was always fun to do.

The two couples spent the morning making love in various combinations and
napping. The last nap ended when Zeek's stomach announced with growls and
rumbles that it was empty. Everyone including Zeek sat up suddenly and
looked around for the source of the disturbance. Zeek's flat, flat rippled
gut was discovered by the process of elimination. Zeek and Rodger looked at
each other in amazement after they glanced at the clock; it was 1:30 in the
afternoon and the two dedicated chow hounds had missed breakfast, several
snack breaks and lunch.

They took quick non-sensual showers, which they all agreed they really,
really needed by then and after the boys pulled on shorts and Jennifer
donned her tee shirt, they ventured forth looking for a ride to the
Club. They had just reached the great room when Dooby screamed, "Cut,
that's a wrap, kill all the cameras and the sound and let's sit down and
eat. I'm starved. This was the best Christmas show we've ever done, thanks
guys," he congratulated everyone.

"Doob, this is our first Christmas show," Cory reminded, "but I'm hungry
too," he added.

"Us too," Little Zeek agreed while he took his usual seat at the table and
pulled out the next chair for Rodger before he looked up and down the fully
set table that was crowded with platters, serving bowls and smaller dishes,
not the least of which was the magnificently browned turkey, the co-star of
the show along with Dooby, Cory and his mother, Mattie with Jimmy, his soon
to be adopted father looking on.

"And just where did you guys spend the morning?" Dooby asked the four new
very, very good friends with a lecherous grin.

Jennifer kicked herself mentally for not being prepared to answer that
question; one that no one would have asked if they could have avoided
Dooby. Jennifer turned haughty, "Absolutely nothing at all you busy body;
you just mind your own business!" she replied.

She forgot that older brother Artie, was also sitting at the table. He
said, "Well the next time you do nothing and need to shower afterward, you
really should take the time to dry everyone involved off and you, Jennifer,
should have put your bikini back on before Zeek's old worn out tee shirt."

Jennifer looked down at her shirt. It was plain and white. "This shirt is
Lane's," she protested.

"Not unless his last name is really Redland and he really played Pop Warner
Football in Georgia, at least that's what's printed on the back," Artie
countered with a giggle.

Mattie changed the topic of the conversation, "Jimmy and I are going back
to the Club now. I need to rest up before our big day," she advised the
table. "After y'all get done eating, you can pack up the leftovers and
bring them back with you..."

Little Zeek looked up at his mother as if she had just stabbed him in the
heart. "But Momma, if there are any leftovers why can't we just leave them
here? You know there's no better sandwich than turkey and stuffing for a
late night snack," he almost wailed.

Mattie rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, I forgot; that's your favorite sandwich of
the day. Well, be sure to put the pies in the back on the lowest shelf in
the fridge; Auggie doesn't like bending that low. We'll see you later," she
called from the kitchen on the way out the door.

######

The small gang and the production crew, without their equipment had just
joined the day long party on the Club terrace when a small jet buzzed them
from 1000 feet and climbing while banking and heading east to disappear out
over the Atlantic.

Dooby frowned at Granny Margery after nearly everyone recovered from
ducking down. Getting buzzed was just as disconcerting as he thought it
would be. "Why won't you guys let me buzz the school or anything else and
your jet just buzzed us?" he asked.

"I assure you Dooby dear, that plane wasn't mine. We leave for California
tomorrow morning," she advised Dooby while wearing a lopsided grin that
indicated that she may have been partying as hard as the men.

Jennifer didn't care about any jets. "You just never mind about that. What
I want to know is what's in all those trailer trucks that are backed in
among the trees out front? They can't all be shower or wedding gifts like
you said," she demanded of her brother Dooby. It seemed that all the women
present were just as interested in hearing the answer to that question as
well. A confrontation of women against their menfolk was shaping up nicely.

Auggie returned to the jet as a topic since its exit from US airspace would
affect the planned showers, the wedding and the wedding/holiday
supper. "That there jet weren't Margery's; it was Trasker's school airplane
he'll soon be usin' to get from an' to college on weekends."

"Oh sure," Dooby sniped at Trasker, who had obviously sampled some of his
Uncle Auggie's 20 year old Pappy, "everyone has to have their own jet
airplane to use at school. When are you giving me a ride and who's using it
now?"

"I was meanin' to ask about next weekend if you're free. I need y'all to
help me pick out a nice house just like you did for Tony. Of course, mine
will be up to Athens in the great State of Georgia, somewhere near the
University." Dooby glared, it seemed that Trasker was avoiding his last
question. "Oh, Momma Mattie an' Jimmy eloped. A judge married them at the
airport and they're on their way to Nassau where we'll meet up with `em at
that Atlantis hotel."

It was Jennifer's turn to wail, "But what about the showers and the wedding
here?"

"And we still want to know what's in all those trailers out front," Laura
demanded of Charlie on behalf of the ladies and one very angry girl. All of
Jennifer's careful planning had gone away with Trasker's new jet and it was
becoming obvious that the boys and men had ignored all the stores where
with the women's help, she had Mattie's name and the most desired items
entered in their gift registries. She was discovering that boys were just
like their fathers, they never listen either.

Cory answered his mother's question, "Dooby and I thought that everyone
else would buy the stuff on Jennifer's lists so we bought the twins a
playground," he looked around the terrace before he continued, "and some of
the other guys got the same idea, so they bought playgrounds too. That's
what's in the trailers. The contractor that rebuilt this place will put
them all together as soon as Mattie and Jimmy point out where they want
them."

"And, since we are their fathers," Dooby confessed, "we bought some sports
equipment that the boys might want in the future. We wanted to have some
gifts from us that Mattie and Jimmy could open at the party."

Charlie grinned at Laura, "I think we all had the same idea. Did you know
that Nike actually makes sneakers for babies?"

"You're dating yourself Gramps," Dooby jabbed Charlie, "you should have
said sports shoes, but they sure are cute little things." He held up a hand
with his thumb and index finger slightly apart to show everyone how little
the Nike baby sport shoes were, apparently from firsthand knowledge.

That initiated a series of confessions. The babies would be outfitted with
pint-sized uniforms and equipment for almost any sport and if something was
missed, Mattie could resort to using any one of numerous gift cards that
did not have expiration dates.

"What did you guys get the twins Auggie, you never said?" Dooby asked
Auggie and Zeek.

"We got `em a playground too, only without no ground. It's goin' to be a
mini-water park, parked on a barge out in the cove as soon as it's
built. We got some artist's pitchers of the thing over to home," Auggie
confessed.

"An' later we gettin' in a passel o' bumper boats that's most like bumper
cars on land," Zeek added with a giggle.

Auggie nodded to agree but qualified that particular gift, "Them boats is
bein' given by some guy by the name o' Anonymous cause Zeek boy scared
shitless o' his little sister although he claim otherwise while she ain't
here to wail the tar outten his black ass."

All in all, everyone had a fantastic time at the combined holiday and
wedding celebration without the guests of honor.

#######

There were just a few items on the schedule the next morning before the
whole mob would board Auggie's jet for the short trip to Nassau and the
Atlantis Resort Hotel and Casino. One was the announcement of who won the
Tarzan contest and the second involved Lane and Jennifer, the mysterious
couple, photographed and filmed riding in and driving Tony's, Maserati
Grand Turismo.

While the mysterious couple was off doing their thing, Scott had wisely
refused to say where, to prevent the buildup of an audience; he hopefully
had everyone else occupied at Coral Place; occupied by recreating the
original scene on the dock. He'd assembled all the original Tarzans in
full Tarzan undress uniform; chamois loin cloths. Jim-Bob, Carter and the
divers were more relaxed the second time around and while they were well
aware of the cameras, they were oblivious to what the cameras were
doing. Scott had them recording each guy in splendid detail as they moved
about the dock waiting patiently for Dooby and Cory to announce the winner
while their bodies served as background – and individuals would appear
regularly as new fodder for additional website pages. Scott had already
trailed the guys all week, diving and fishing off their beautiful boats and
he'd managed to visit their dive shop and restaurant; `Diving Down Under'
and `The Dead Lobster' for additional background color.

The area behind the cameras was far more crowded because some parents and
all the Yankee boys not involved in the contest were there watching
although everyone was required to wear some clothing in case they should
happen to get in front of a camera by a Dooby inspired `accident'.

Dooby introduced Rodger as an elite geek who was determined to win the trip
to Coral Place to fish, dive and visit all the Orlando attractions, by
programing his computer to vote for each and every Tarzan, one per minute
around the clock after he explained that the winner was determined by the
total number of votes cast, not the total number of votes anyone cast for
an individual.

"Now here's the man himself, the Tarzan contest winner, Rodger Mathews!"
Dooby introduced. Rodger hadn't been told what to wear so he was wearing
board shorts and a pullover shirt, so he was the most over-dressed guy in
front of the cameras. That he was a school friend and a pit/grill master
wasn't mentioned and wouldn't be until January when he would begin his
career as the cooking shows' official Fire Starter, kitchen helper and food
tester since he was a dedicated chow hound.

"Utoh," Cory intoned with mock seriousness.

"Utoh," the Tarzans agreed on cue as they undressed Rodger with their eyes,
almost without laughing too hard.

"I think we need to give you another gift so you fit in with the rest of us
Tarzans," Dooby advised, implying that a wardrobe change was in order

Rodger began to back away from Dooby and Cory but he had nowhere to go. The
dock was blocked with cameras and an audience one way, and far too many
Tarzans on the landward end. He was instantly surrounded to disappear among
mostly bare backs, tanned legs and glimpses of chamois. Someone tall waved
Roger's red shirt over their heads and his white board shorts followed
shortly thereafter. Rodger couldn't plead for mercy because he was laughing
hysterically. He was ejected from the group toward the cameras within
seconds wearing a red face and his additional gift that clearly displayed
the factoids that he had no tan lines, almost no body hair - and was
possessed of a very decent size something that pushed out the thin leather
in front.

Dooby, Cory and their fellow Tarzans weren't done. The younger guys in the
audience that included the whole Bradley bunch plus Steve also needed
wardrobe adjustments. The cameras were swung around in time to see flying
board shorts that were replaced with brand new loin cloths that had been
carefully cut down, sized to fit the individual and labeled so there would
be no mistakes that would require editing. Then after they were redressed
properly they were pushed to stand in front of the original Tarzans and
they discovered that little Kurt with a `K' continually upstaged Dooby and
Cory by striking classic Tarzan muscle poses behind their backs until they
ended the segment.

######

Three impeccably dressed and bejeweled elderly ladies graced the middle of
one side of a large conference table in Olsen Assets' board room while
three handsome young men wearing suits stood behind them early Saturday
morning, Pacific Time. The guys, Michael, Ben and Danny had been
introduced as the lady's Executive Assistants.

Margery's jet departed Marathon as planned Friday, and first landed at
Peachtree Airport near Atlanta so the young men could be properly if
hurriedly dressed, Agatha Rippy could get her jewel case (so Bernie could
borrow something impressive while Margery had her own collection of bugs
with her) and all three ladies could do some clothes shopping while they
waited for their boys.

It had already been decided that Bernie Paterson would purchase the single
remaining penthouse apartment in Margery's building, that Agatha Rippy had
a standing invitation to visit either friend for as long as she wished, and
they could in turn visit her at any time in Georgia. The three young men,
who originally served as their room stewards had proved their worth in
undefined, never to be revealed ways and would join their individual ladies
permanently as live-in Executive Assistants.

Ten of the chairs on the opposite side of the table were occupied by Olsen
Assets' most senior executives. Most looked extremely uncomfortable because
Harold Olsen, Oliver's uncle and the titular head of the company was
already five minutes late when he finally appeared and instead of sitting
in the vacant chair directly opposite Margery, he chose to sit at the head
of the table by himself. He also sat down before he was introduced to the
ladies.

"Why in the world have we been waiting for your stenographer?" Margery
asked the men across the table in a lowered voice she hoped Harold couldn't
hear clearly enough to understand.

Agatha added to the question after a look of distain, "And why would he not
bring a pad and pen to the meeting?" she asked in an equally low voice.

"Now, now," Bernice cautioned somewhat louder, "we mustn't judge
harshly. For all we know the poor man was involved in the Interstate auto
accident our helicopter flew over on our way here from the airport. There
must be some reason the man is so disheveled and unprepared."

Agatha and Margery laughed at that last observation. Margery replied "I do
believe that Dooby's wit came from your side of the family Bernice."

"Are you talking about me?" Harold Olsen snapped. He went on to introduce
himself somewhat more imperiously than Agatha or Margery could have
managed. The ladies noted that the Olsen executives had covered their
mouths but their laugh lines betrayed what they really thought.

Margery pointed to the empty chair opposite hers and snapped back, "I
believe you called this meeting based on my email inquiry, we will not
shout, so if you wish to see our formal proposal, please join us in THAT
empty chair! We interrupted our holiday to be here and I hope we are not
wasting our time."

Ben and Danny circled the table in opposite directions to distribute
leather bound copies of the syndicate proposal. Danny placed Harold's copy
in front of the empty place and the executives got very busy reading so
they wouldn't have to make eye contact with Harold. He had to move to the
vacant chair if he wanted to read the proposal himself. He tried not to
appear that he was rushing but when he saw Olsen executives nodding and
smiling with raised eyebrows...

The big room was silent for five minutes while Harold perused the proposal
and consciously worked to return his elevated heart beat to something close
to normal. He had no idea of how much Olsen Assets was worth and never
cared previously, but the number 22 billion before taxes was a staggering
sum for one person to have at their disposal and if he actually owned the
company, he would have signed the agreement right then and there. However
all that money would never be his as long as his nephew Oliver remained
alive.

Once again he wondered where Ollie and his bright red plane were
exactly. Someone somewhere, should have found the wreckage, even if it
burned there should be some debris and if it burned any evidence of
tampering would have disappeared with the boy. Of course he didn't want the
boy to disappear entirely; there must be a body. The possibility of Ollie
crashing into the sea gave him recurring nightmares, but Ollie lived a
charmed life, far better than a cat with 90 lives.

Harold didn't know that the red planes' owner had found the attempted
sabotage based on Ollie's tip, blamed his ex-wife, made the necessary
repairs and then leased a secure hanger to safely store his aircraft out of
sight. All that Harold knew was that Ollie and his red plane were gone and
so far it seemed that boy and plane had vanished from the earth.

Margery brought Harold back to earth and the conference room by reiterating
that the syndicate's offer expired at midnight, December 31st just over one
month away and that there would be no discussion or further
negotiations. She tipped the scales when, just before she left the room she
said, "I am quite sure you won't care, but the money would be transferred
by wire from banks throughout the world. Good day Mr. Olsen."

"Oh, well, yes of course, in that case I would open accounts in the same
banks so the money would not have to come into the United States. I would
hate to trouble the IRS with calculating the taxes on that sum." Harold
laughed manically at his little joke. "Please allow me to show you to the
roof and your helicopter," he volunteered.

Michael spoke up after the chopper was in the air, "I hope you don't mind
my saying this, but I think that Ollie's uncle is one of the slimiest
bastards I've ever met."

"As some of you gay boys might say, Harold Olsen is a fucking little prick,
he's the murderer of his brother and sister-in-law and now with billions at
stake he'll do whatever is required to kill poor Ollie unless he's
stopped," Margery hesitated, "stopped dead, if necessary," she added
quietly with clenched teeth.

#######

The first thing that Harold did after leaving the Olsen building was to
stop at a drug store to buy a cellphone and enough minutes to make a single
call. "The plane you fixed disappeared without a trace. I want it and the
pilot found. The brat might be in Florida, somewhere called Marathon I want
him dead as the result of an accident and I do not care what it costs. This
accident absolutely must happen within the next two weeks without
fail. I'll pay twice your usual fee and a million dollar bonus as soon as
the tragic accident is officially announced after the body is identified."

#######

Once again my thanks go to Emoe for editing my stuff. This part was taxing
because I apparently didn't use nearly enough commas to suit him! LOL as
the kids say.


HAPPY READING!

Jamie Haze


                                                                                                                                                        

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