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Date Posted: 16:25:41 05/11/09 Mon
Author: Grumpy
Author Host/IP: 67-61-232-104.cpe.cableone.net / 67.61.232.104
Subject: Insert after "I'll take care of our guests" for Mr. Crowley
In reply to: Grumpy 's message, "The whole shebang, Part 1, and writer's block." on 21:47:31 05/07/09 Thu

Sauntering over to the threesome huddled in the shade of the shack, he eyed them up and down, sighed noisily and said. “Guten Tag! Ich bin Albertus. But call me Glass Eye – it’s easier to remember. Gentlemen, you are something of an embarrassment to us at the moment. Indeed, I might go so far as to say your superfluity cannot be exceeded by any realistic phenomenon which might burst upon the scene within the next millennium or so. Correcting this situation is easily accomplished, however, so if you’ll bear with me, I’ll explain the facts of life to you. You find yourselves, such as you are, almost two centuries removed from the times in which you were such a problem for the world. Fortunately, we were able to dispose of your nastiness, and peace returned to the world shortly after your departure from that time. We don’t need you getting underfoot and hatching plots to establish another Reich, so we’re going to give you a choice. You can agree to an exile of our choosing, or you can walk out into the desert and try your luck with the sun, wind and various nasty critters awaiting you there. Which is it?”

“Ach du lieber! Do you know who I am?! How dare you address me in such, shuch, . .” Hitler was spluttering furiously, incoherent with rage. Glass Eye snorted, giggled, and started his shuffling dance. “Oh, it’s going to be fun! I’ll put my money on the sidewinders, as long as you don’t get first bite. I’ll address you in the fashion of my choosing, little man. Don’t you understand? You’re history! You lost! You’re just a middle-aged might-have-been but never-will-be, and you’re mine to dispose of as I see fit. Choose wisely, dungheap. You can live out your miserable lives in peace, if not comfort, or you can take your chances with the desert.”

Goering turned to the Fuhrer and asked, “Shall I have him shot? He’s obviously a Jewish traitor driven mad by too much freedom. Better yet, I’ll shoot him myself.” Fumbling under his dress, exposing his spindly shins and beefy thighs, he produced a Mauser and aimed it at Glass Eye, who negligently waved a finger. The Mauser disappeared, and Goering gaped at his empty hand in disbelief. Glass Eye shook his finger at Goering, and his dress promptly tightened and bound Goering firmly in its grasp. Himmler held up his hands and said, “Never mind, exile will suit me quite well. Do with these two as you wish.”

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