http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T43m6dcMk6U

Frank hit the scotch a little too hard that afternoon, the afternoon after he had met the bureau chief. Let's see, how many contractual provisions I did break so far.

I spoke with him without notifying NORTHCO or without even the benefit of counsel.

I really gave away 'trade secrets' including information concerning secret governmental contracts. Was it enough information to make him guilty of violating some State Secrets Act?

I gave the investigator 'gossip'; no hard evidence really. But surely I gave him information hoping to aid him in his investigation of NORTHCO; adverse to the interests of Frank's own company.

Is it really the greater good that I am looking for here? I mean we are not speaking of turning in my fellow Marine. No Semper Fideles here.

Back to zebras frolicking on the savannah. Oh look, lions in the background. With manes blowing in the savannah winds, they watch and salivate and wait. Waiting while the male zebra gallivants around  the females, the females pretending to eschew the advances of the males. Ha  I love the Animal Channel after a couple of drinks and when morality creeps into my brain. The savannah here looks like a singles bar where rogues wait in the darkened places to attack individuals a little too celebratory and flaunting a little too much cash.

Was the savannah that much like a singles' bar or more like a day in the life of a corporate community; hard at work attempting to amass the largest fortune possible with the ultimate aim to preserve the jobs of management? 

It is just a joke that locally Frank is somehow thought of as number three. He was no more number three than the brewer at the local Starbucks Franchise is the number 3 man in Starbucks, Inc. After all, there were five installations of NORTHCO scattered across the nation. Frank had no idea how many traces of NORTHCO cold be found in other countries in the New World or Europe for that matter. Hell, he knew a lot of materiel was being transferred from China to this country via NORTHCO through trade. Or was there a notorious partnership with the Chinese in Asia covering other installations.

All Frank knew were the numbers directly attributable to NORTHCO-SD.  That is it.   It is funny how corporate life works. Different installations, different divisions and different departments run a corporate entity and it is a pyramid of power. As you go higher up the scale of management you find men who know more than those in the lower echelon. Frank is really just a better paid cog in a grand machine over which he has no control.

So the good soldier dots his i's and crosses his t's and applies the correct tax credit to the correct expenditure and so forth. And the soldier, even though he may be an officer, remains as ignorant of the reasons or causes for the war as he is of the types of poisons contained in the missiles that are fired at the enemy. Semper Fi.

But what of wider considerations? The officer ages and with age comes some wisdom anyway; whether he seeks the goddamnable wisdom or not. And a manager comes to a point in his life where moving on up the ladder of success may not hold the same allure that it once had. After twenty or thirty years, the yen, the ache, the urge--whatever you call 'it'--fades for some.

Other 'concerns' take the place of the urge for advancement.

Frank had never really been 'political'. What the hell difference did it mean to him whether or not a republican or a democrat ruled in Washington or in his state?  Election night every four years was more like the Superbowl than anything concrete.

But he had personally witnessed the flora and fauna recoil at the product. Or he at least assumed NORTHCO's 'product' was responsible for the plague that he was certain had grasped the land. And here he had discovered, only recently, that he was shrinking. So far it appeared there had been no other adverse effects upon his person. Certainly, there were adverse effects upon his soul.

But how far should he get into this conundrum? How much effort should he extend to abate what lawyers may call a nuisance? What were his personal responsibilities?

He did know one thing, for sure. And that 'thing' was that Black Label took the edge off.

Frank slumped down into the couch as if he had become part of it.

Bernice awoke to a dream of things long dead. Her bedroom was a beautiful haven with silk translucent drapes hanging from her grand bed posts. As the sun came through the windows without glass the colors of pink and yellow merged into a mystic haze.

She was dressed in the finest of bed gowns and she felt so refreshed and she felt a freedom she had not experienced afore in her thirty years.

Isolde you must arise to a new day. King Mark awaits your presence. Two handmaidens were led into her room by a senior lady of station.

All righty then, Bernice thought, I can play this scene.

Her handmaidens helped her clean up a bit with vases of warm water as she stood in a bin giving her fine scented soaps. My God there is hair upon my legs. Eeeeeeeeeeek Sponges were rubbed all over her body and deep into crevices that made her squeal. Really rather delightful Bernice mused.

Her hair was long and blonde and the maidens toweled her and combed for what seemed the longest time before they fashioned it just so.

King Mark likes your hair high upon your pretty head, Hansel instructed.

After a fine gown enveloped her, almost magically, a high 'top' was put upon her head.

Following her toilet, Bernice found herself being led to the King's chamber filled with attendants. The King sat on the great silver throne and she was directed to the throne alongside him.

My God, its Frank! She thought.

Frank had this full beard along with glowing reddish eyes and his breath, my god from three feet away she was sure something had recently died in his mouth and remained there.

Is there something upon thine mind that troubles you my dear?

Even in this alcoholic condition, Frank was quite handsome, really. Had not really noticed that before.  Nothing Sire, I am still waking unto this new day.

A herald appeared in full regalia; Sir Tristram arrives at your leisure, Sire.

There before her and the King came Sir Tristram. My God it's Sean.

Sire, I arrive for the hunt, stated Tristram as he bowed most gracefully.

Very good, very fine, His Eminence responded.

Just then there was a great noise raised from the outer walls of the castle. Everyone rushed to the window. There was a giant of a man with two attendants, dressed in full knightly garb. A huge man as mean as mean could be.

I AM MARHAUS, THE GREAT AND I COME TO DO BATTLE WITH TRISTRAM, THE BANE OF THE CORNISH KNIGHTS. I DEMAND SATISFACTION.

Magically, Bernice found herself teleported to another throne beside Frank in the stands circling the grand arena. There on the ground below them stood Tristan and Marhaus, on horseback. A great battle occurred between them.

The two began to feutre their spears, and they met so fiercely together that they smote either other down, both horse and all. But Sir Marhaus smote Sir Tristram a great wound in the side with his spear, and then they avoided their horses, and pulled out their swords, and threw their shields afore them. And then they lashed together as men that were wild and courageous. And when they had stricken so together long, then they left their strokes, and foined at their breaths and visors; and when they saw that that might not prevail them, then they hurtled together like rams to bear either other down. Thus they fought still more than half a day, and either were wounded passing sore, that the blood ran down freshly from them upon the ground. By then Sir Tristram waxed more fresher than Sir Marhaus, and better winded and bigger; and with a mighty stroke he smote Sir Marhaus upon the helm such a buffet that it went through his helm, and through the coif of steel, and through the brain-pan, and the sword stuck so fast in the helm and in his brain-pan that Sir Tristram pulled thrice at his sword or ever he might pull it out from his head; and there Marhaus fell down on his knees, the edge of Tristram's sword left in his brain-pan... http://etext.virginia.edu/etcbin/toccer-new2?id=Mal1Mor.sgm&images=images/modeng&data=/texts/english/modeng/parsed&tag=public&part=161&division=div2

And Tristram knelt down and pierced the gut of the giant Marhaus with his sword. Every one and every thing grew still as a great fog found its way into the arena. Even the horses appeared to stop breathing. Tristram's face seemed to gleam. A strange smile came across his face. He knelt down over the body of the slain and pulling out a knife from his belt, Tristram proceeded to gut the giant from his groin to the lower part of his ribs. He then appeared to reach down, right into the carcass and pulled out a beating heart.

Our hero then stood heart in hand as they say and the throng in the stands cheered. Tristram then took a great bite out of the heart of the giant.

Bernice awoke with a great fright. She was suddenly back in her own house, her own bedroom. The sun had just risen with its light streaming through her windows..

Algernon was home at last. His shrink had led him out of the maze where he had been left for dead. Or so that is how it all felt. A cleaning crew had finally come following the investigation and he actually felt safe again.

At first he had thought he would never, could never go home again. He had experienced an adrenaline rush at the hospice and he had come to a point in his life where he would never let fear get the better of him ever again.

Algie just could not remember anything except for the vision of the headless Thomas lying on his carpet. His doctor said that the memory prior to that could come back and then again, it might never come back. He was scheduled for sessions twice a week for the next few months and then it would be decided whether or not to assign him to a group of trauma victims.

Right now he was to relax. Algie knew he had to get back to the office. He had to contribute again. It was time. Three weeks had passed and it was time. He would take half the prescription medicine he had been given by his doctor.

He thought about his assignment from Frank. He knew Frank had been working with Sean on this, but Algernon was the only one who had been in the warehouse at the installation.

The assignment would or at least might lead him to the source of his breakdown, his pain. Some strange things were happening in the local woods, that is for sure. THEY HAD INVADED HIS HOME. ATTACKED HIM AND HIS FRIEND. THAT WOULD END IF IT WERE THE LAST DAMN THING HE EVER ACCOMPLISHED.

He would go back to work and gather information on the sly, without raising suspicion. No one would notice that he was using his larger brief case in addition to his shoulder satchel. He would work slowly but methodically and meet with Frank regularly.

He would begin with identifying products along with the chemical formulae and comment on the possible uses for same. 

He would reeducate himself as to the possible negative effects of such chemicals on the environment as well as the employees. 

This would end up being his Raison D'etre. It would get his mind off of himself and his own miserable existence.

Algernon would wreck havoc on the source of his despair.

(Remember, every Monday and Thursday you may find a new episode. For older episodes go to my link:  

http://forestroot125.blogspot.com/search?updated-min=2009-01-01T00%3A00%3A00-08%3A00&updated-max=2010-01-01T00%3A00%3A00-08%3A00&max-results=20 )