TRICKY DICK AND BIG AL TRY TO BREAK INTO HEAVEN!

Reads: 477  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Kilgore Trout the long dead failed sci-fi writer is stuck in limbo trying to get into heaven. Kilgore while in the waiting room of heaven,encounters the great writer Mark Twain and two of the most infamous crooks of America. Both criminals then try to make their case why they should be allowed into heaven, while Twain and Kilgore take note. The story has the actually recorded conversation of one of the famous crooks and the other was known to like the Press and known to sell the public what they wanted beer and hookers.

WARNING: THIS IS A MATURE STORY AND IS RATED R:
THE DIALOGUE IS BASED ON THE PRESIDENTIAL LIBRARY RECORDINGS OF ONE DICK NIXON. THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION AND NON-FICTION AND THE WORDS OF THE EX PRESIDENT AND OTHER CHARACTERS ARE BASED ON RECORDED CONVERSATIONS.
PRESIDENT NIXON REAL TAPED DIALOGUE CONTAINS SWEAR WORDS, POLITICAL INCORRECT AND RACISTS RANT. THIS STORY GIVES GREAT INSIGHT INTO THE CRIMINAL MIND OR HOW WE SHOULD RECORD ALL PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATES BEFORE THEY ARE ELECTED AND SEE HOW THEY REALLY FEEL ABOUT THE PUBLIC.
BEFORE PRESIDENT OBAMA’S SECOND ELECTION:


TRICKY DICK AND BIG AL TRY TO BREAK INTO HEAVEN!

BY:  KILGORE TROSKY TROUT







These are the days of religiosity in America that is powering the populace to chose a new leader. In America, we have never knowingly elected a Atheistic or Agnostic President. Christians are panicking that we have elected a Muslim President and now we have been handicapped in are ability to get into Heaven. Will the next President be Christian enough? Do we all convert to being Mormons?
Do we remove all those other confusing religions? The public can only a guess until now; how one gets into that vaulted place, heaven? We have TV preachers, books and Christian theme parks all designed to clue one in on getting that ultimate vacation trip to the promised land. Sadly, these are mere sales pitches to get into your wallet, they never give you the down low dirty truth about the methods truly needed to get into Heaven, it is much harder than it looks.
Thankfully, I Kilgore Trout got to view the process. You see; I am dead and this reporting
is being done by automatic writing, as I communicate from the gates of Heaven directly to my Grandson, Kilgore Trosky Trout. Who then types out my messages on his heavenly old HP computer a device that is possessed by the Holy spirit?
My grandfather is now telling me he is outside the gates of Saint Peters, and he bumps into a man wearing a bright white suit who looks to be Hal Holbrook.
“Have you come to catch the show, or kiss ass to enter this holy or is it whole of a place?”
“Well, Mr.? I am just being sent by some weird cosmic fire storm that looked like Haley's comet.”
“Oh, Yes sir. My name is Mark Twain or Sam Clemens to some, and I was taken here by that damn blasted cosmic farting wind.”
“Glad to meet you Mr. Twain, I am Kilgore Trosky Trout, I really enjoyed your work, even the brilliant marketing scam to publish 100 years after your death.”
Twain coughed than laughed spraying out southern style reply, “My plan was better than most of my other investments.”
“Well, I am very disappointed to find out that the human race no longer bothers with reading books and book stores have gone extinct, but since I am already famous my name still sells. Sadly, there are not many of my direct relatives still living, and they ended up become uncased in the fog of the name.”
Twain winks knowing he still made the best-seller list, even though people bought the book thinking as it made them appear erudite and left it on the shelf to make an impression.
“I believe that it sold as the book for being an ode to gossip, a bitch-fest about people who have long been turned into worm food.” Twain looked at me with a sort of disdain while stating the obvious, “Doesn't gOSSIP always sell?"
“Well my good friend, I am bored and as a writer; I love to see which near do wells tries to get past the guard of St Peters, some use the simple cash method, others have tried logic, some cry and wail that they are better than they really were when they are alive.”
There are two famous men, bickering and pushing each other trying to get an audience with God to be allowed in. I blurt out the most weird sighting to appear in the gates of heaven.
HOLY GOOD JESUS, IT IS NIXON AND AL CAPONE!


The guard to saint Peters is not impressed with either one of these two guys, but mistakenly thinks they are just both mobsters, well maybe they are really both mobsters. We will let God judge them as to their status as human beings.
As we peer at them outside the gates, both men are shouting at each other.
“I WAS PRESIDENT, AND DID MANY GREAT THINGS FOR THE WORLD.”
Big Al, was normally jovial, but Nixon's boldness brought out his desire to be top dog, and he responded in his old style of dealing with a punk:
“NOT SO FAST, Frog FACE. Whatever, YOUR NAME IS? I bought politicians, and they seem to serve no useful purpose except to solicit and take bribes.”
“I AM RICHARD NIXON, Thirty-seven President of the United States!

Capone bursts out laughing. I loved reading about you in this Limbo land. I just finished Anthony Summer's book about what lousy, corrupt bastard you were.”
Nixon looks on and spits out his hatred, “Capone, we got you for your crimes, and taught you a lesson.”

Capone now sticks his fat finger in Nixon’s unmanly concave chest while spraying his spit along with this message.
“LISTEN HERE DICK, they GOT ME ON TAXES!”
“Wait, just minute Dick, you also were a Tax cheat! You damn hypocrite.”


Capone, ironically unlike today’s teenager loved reading history books so he had studied all famous events since he had been stuck in limbo since 1949. Capone now chortles his reply to Nixon.
“You and your buddy Spiro were mere common thieves, with a new fangled device a heavenly new styled iPad; I can pull up your tax information; you piece of dog crap.”
“The IRS busted my balls, but look at what a tax-cheat you were when you were President Nixon.”
“You made over $200,000, and you tried to pay nothing.”
Big Al passes the iPad device around with Nixon's embarrassing tax information.
The press revealed Nixon's 1970 return showed a presidential salary of $200,000, yet federal income tax was less than $1,000. The Wall Street Journal reported on December 10, 1973, that the Nixon tax returns from 1969 through 1972 had the following adjusted gross incomes and taxes:
Adjusted Gross Federal Income
Year Income Tax
1969 $328,161 $72,682
1970 $262,942 $792
1971 $262,384 $878
1972 $268,777 $4,298

Twain looked upon the display and chucked, “This may be the greatest work of AMERICAN NONFICTION by any President of the United States.” “Thank god, this is more concise biography of you. Twain’s eyes twinkled as he had read many a damn book while sitting in limbo. Since Twain had published Grant’s memoir’s he especially kept up with reading Presidential biography, written by the great men or at least by their great ghost writers. Twain patted the hunched over Nixon while trying to make him feel a little better about himself. Speaking some calm words in his usually jokester style Twain developed during his lecture tours. “ Dick that little bit of information is much more enlightening then that bloated book by President Clinton. Just think in those few lines you summed up your Presidency; whereas President Bill horn dog Clinton‘s, damn book made Moby Dick look like a reader digest magazine.”
Big Al chortled to Dick that like him his problems stem from the love of money,
“Listen Dick, what I learned is just pay your friggin Taxes.”
“Uze and I should have killed my accountants. Or may be I should hired your accountant to hide my money.”
?
Everybody, especially Twain started laughing, while Nixon turned different shades of red.
Nixon real personality came out when he now attacked Big Al's ethnicity.
“You dirty wop. Your people are all corrupt.”
Big Al just laughed then said. “In my Younger days, Dick, I would have personally killed you.”
Being a lawyer, Nixon now gave that little smirk that he would clear up his status, as a thief, by invoking his knowledge of current supreme court ruling that money is free speech.
(Floating in limbo did not deter the floating souls from not being informed of the world they had left behind. They could view the electronic signals floating around the universe and stay current or lapse into depressed crankiness like a teenager; it was their free will to make the best of limbo state.)


Nixon now turns on his lawyer voice, as if he is battling against David Frost a mere foppish joke of an interviewer instead of facing a more worthy opponent of Big Al. Twain smiles and puffs on his cigar while spitting out his thoughts
on Big Al and Tricky Dick Nixon: "Ironically, it takes a thief to know a thief, so let the battle begin."
Nixon's face turns serious and preacher like in its stern reply:
“Well my Italian friend, it is the recent judgment of the esteemed Supreme court ruling called citizen united, that allows unlimited amounts of cash for the cause of helping spread the democratic process, with the use of money for the modern media and social welfare groups.”
“Therefore, my accepting money was purely above reproach.” “I was a trail blazer.”
Capone now is getting sick of this little man, and in his younger days, he would have just broken Nixon's knee caps.

Instead Big Al decides to verbally spar with Tricky Dick.
?
“Listen here Tricky Dick: "A crook is a crook, and there's something healthy about his frankness in the matter. But any guy who pretends he is enforcing the law and steals on his authority is a swell snake. The worst type of these punks is the big politician. You can only get a little of his time because he spends so much time covering up that no one will know that he is a thief. A hard-working crook will-and can-get those birds by the dozen, but right down in his heart; he won't depend on them-hates the sight of them."
“Uz knows that I had to open soup kitchens, as Hoover had his finger up his butt and thought it was just up to charities to clean up all the banker's mess.”
Twain is smiling and scribbling down all this and laughing, Jesus; I hope that I can get this into the hands of some publishers who wants to read crime, comedy and spiritual mumbo jumbo. Nixon’s lawyer mind now goes into the tirade of Capone’s guilt verves his power as President:
“You guys are born killers, but you see Capone; I am less guilty than you, as I never directly murdered anybody.” Capone now chuckles and punches Nixon on the shoulder. “You killed many people in Vietnam and your secret little war in Cambodia.”
Capone, explodes with a rage as he was a fan of history and read everything on American history, since he had been stuck in limbo since the time of his death in 1949.
“DICK, YOU WERE MORE BLOOD THIRSTY THAN ME!”
“I only killed people trying to kill me. I kept the civilians out of it.”
Capone was adroit with his heavenly iPad, as he wheeled it-like a Thompson machine gun to bring down the ever sweaty Nixon. Big Al now begins his logical business man approach to the very crooked hunched over man.
“Listen to this when you talked that Hit-man of yours, Kissinger.” Big Al then brought up the audio tapes of Kissinger and Nixon talking about the War in Vietnam.


Nixon: I still think we ought to take the North Vietnamese dikes out now.
Will that drown people?
Kissinger: About two hundred thousand people.
Nixon: No, no, no, I'd rather use the nuclear bomb. Have you got that, Henry?
Kissinger: That, I think, would just be too much.
Nixon: The nuclear bomb, does that bother you?...I just want you to think big, Henry, for Christ sakes.
Nixon: The only place where you and I disagree ... is with regard to the bombing. You're so goddamned concerned about civilians, and I don't give a damn. I don't care.
Kissinger: I'm concerned about the civilians because I don't want the world to be mobilized against you as a butcher.

Nixon strains his narrow eyes and shifts into a recliner that is in this waiting room for heaven.
“Al, I was running the country to stop those godless Commies, and men in War are bound to lose their lives, while you just knocked off your rivals for your personal wealth.”
Big Al chortles, “Then why did you go to China and make nice, nice and all kissy face with that head Commie, CHAIR MAO, OR GENERAL CHICKEN TAO, whatever that dictator dick head's name was.
Nixon is now startled into making up more BS, to man who normally might have cut off your thumbs for lying to him. “Well, Al you see; I was playing against the Russians, and one must sometimes bend the rules with a former foe to take down that other enemies."
“Well, it seems a little crazy.” Big Al said and remember that he had seen deals that were double crosses all the time. “BUT.... Dick, now you fucked over the American workers. You opened the door to those commie bastards, and their slave labor, and you killed American jobs and AMERICAN worker's wages.
?
“YOUS, SOLD US DOWN THE RIVER.... YOUS KILLED THE AMERICAN DREAM, FOR PURE GREED!” “DICK YOU ARE A BIGGER CRIMINAL THEN ME!
I just gave the people WHAT THEY WANTED booze, AND THAT was made by Americans or at least, Canadians, not COMMIE BASTARDS.”
DICK, WE WORKED FOR ALL THE TIME. We fixed your Kennedy problem. We had our Union thugs beat up hippies. We financed your campaigns.
Now, Dick remember we worked with you, and you helped us. I don't mean to sound judgmental, but in my business and in yours. We keep track of favors.”
According to the Families accounts, one hand washed the other, both hands wash the face. Mi capisci si parru!”
“I was dead by then, but the account book shows that we funded your run against that skinny Irish SOB, Kennedy. Weeze gave you that suitcase of Five big ones, Five hundred thousand dollars back in the 1960 election. Wait the guys in
Florida and New Jersey kicked another Five hundred.”
Dick's upper lip is sweating, and his five o'clock shadow is turning into almost a beard.
Tricky Dick’s lawyer brain is trying to sway the jury into heaven.
“That was just UNION money and had no idea that it was from any of your Dagos, dirty Mafia money.”
Big Al laughs, “ you knew that we were the Union, you even worked with us once again.”
“Plus, yous pardoned our guy Hoffa, as favor to us, so it seems as clear as glass that yous were tight with the family.”
Nixon no longer can control his anger, the mobster has boxed in his logic like taking a baseball bat to one of his rivals.
“ThIS IS ALL HERESAY, FROM THE DAMN LIBERAL JEW MEDIA.”
“I AM BEING SLANDER BY THOSE WHORES!”
“ The Jewish cabal is out to get me.”

Capone pulls a device that looks like an iPad out of his suit pocket. “Isn't modern technology wonderful.” “You know Dick; you came to us many times for money and order hits on a few people.”
“We have the receipt for the job to kill Castro and some of your other enemies.”
“$500,000 is not chicken feed, Dick and you loved hanging out with Bebe, who you know was on our team.”
“YOUS WERE SURE REAL CLOSE TO THAT CUBAN? Looks
LIKE your BOSSOM BUDDY'S DICK?”
“See Dick, we have photos of you and your friend who would make most people blush.”
Nixon scowled; Twain laughed, and I actually almost started feeling sorry for Dick, as he was a very trouble man.
Twain looks on with bemused befuddled look stating that the two future candidates for Heaven may be unable to get anyone to open that Pearly gate.
As Twain puffs his cigar, he then goes into one of his famous stand routines:
“ Gentlemen, to get into heaven; I thought that you would have to love each other and all of humanity. This fussing and fighting and hateful sayings will doom you from entering this boring place.”
“In heaven there must be oodles of oodles of nationalities forced to be floating about together.”
Twain, puffs on his cigar and pauses for effect.
“Just think gentlemen:”
"The inventor of their heaven empties into it all the nations of the earth, in one common jumble. All are on an equality absolute, no one of them ranking another; they have to be "brothers"; they have to mix together, pray together, harp together, hosannah together--whites, niggers, Jews, everybody—there's no distinction. Here in the earth all nations hate each other, and every one of them hates the
Jew. Yet every pious person adores that heaven and wants to get into it. He really does. And when he is in a holy rapture he thinks he thinks that if he were only there he would take all the populace to his heart, and hug, and hug, and hug!"
Big Al smiled as he knew that he had the upper hand against Tricky Dick. Capone was not as racist as good ole Tricky Dick. Nixon now is taken back. Those damn tapes will get played again.
“Yes, Dick let's play those tapes on how you feel about all those nationalities.” Dick scowls even more. His lawyer mind is trying to find the escape clause; the way out for his rants that will live on and on.
Big Al reminds that a criminal must destroy the evidence of his crimes.
“You should have burned those damn tapes, Mr. President, now you will be in death the most accidentally truthful President we ever had.”
Big Al smirks and states. “Hey Dick, isn't Jesus a Jew? Hopefully, he will listen to what you think about the Jews. You know Dick you seem to hate almost everybody.”
To stick in the knife even deeper into the hunched backed Nixon, Big Al plays the tape which shows Nixon being a true monster to the chosen people. Nixon hears Kissinger voice and sweats pour from his forehead, and his suit has big stains from the pits all the way to pockets.
Prime Minister Meir, in March 1973, is heard thanking Nixon for the way he treated her and Israel.” She is heard leaving the room.
Kissinger, “Golda is requesting we help getting Jews out of the Soviet Union.”
Nixon pauses, mumbles “More, more...greedy kikes.”
Kissinger: “And if they put Jews into gas chambers in the Soviet Union, it is not an American
concern. Maybe a humanitarian concern.”
Nixon: “I know. We can’t blow up the world because of it.”
Back in limbo, Big Al now realizes that Jesus was a Jew and died as a Jew, so he certainly has beaten Nixon into Heaven.
Nixon pouts and mutters. “Fucking damn tapes, I can't escape them.”
Nixon's voice is now heard ranting to his sycophants.

The Jews have certain traits,” [Nixon] said. “The Irish have certain — for example; the Irish can’t drink. What you always have to remember with the Irish is they get mean. Virtually, every Irish I’ve known gets mean when he drinks. Particularly, the real Irish.”
...“The Italians, of course, those people course don’t have their heads screwed on tight. They are wonderful people, but" and his voice trailed off.
A moment later, Nixon returned to Jews: “The Jews are just a very aggressive and abrasive and obnoxious personality.”

In a conversation with his secretary, Rose Mary Woods, Nixon questioned Secretary of State William P. Rogers’ views about the future of black Americans because he has “sort of a blind spot on the black thing because he’s been in New York . What has to happen is they have be, frankly, inbred,” the Times reported.
Big Al is stunned and retorts with the truth, “ Dick we are just immigrants to America, and even I
know what it's like to poor and hungry.”
“Jesus, Dick you hate everybody!”
Just as Nixon slummed into the seat of the waiting room, the rest all sat down. Nobody here would seem able to make it past the gates into that Pearly heavenly light.
In an amazing, event happened next; Dick Nixon started crying, weeping like a child.
Our crowd, Twain, Capone and myself now felt sorry for this man. Maybe he is repenting for his sins? Mark Twain calmly walked up to Nixon and sat next to him. He padded Nixon on the shoulders and said, “There, There, President Nixon you don't know that you will be barred from Heaven, and you have time to go up the ranks of Presidents; most of your competition were just as bad, they just didn't get caught.”
“Don't worry Dick, there have been many screw ups since you departed, just remember that they surely be a worse more corrupt President than you.”
Now even Big Al shows compassion while he strode up to the crumbled up Nixon.
“You know Dick, as, a guy who got convicted of tax evasion yous weren't as corrupt, and yous wasn't bad as the Bankers in the 1930s or the ones in 2008 that blew apart the American economy, they destroyed more lives than you ever did.”
Capone slaps Nixon on the back while finishing trying to cheer Nixon up.
“I even hear that some guy name Mitt wants to President while he stashes money offshore, like the family.”
Twain now goes in for the joke. Well, Dick I thought that your crimes were absolved by the people constantly forgetting and as you know:
“Politicians and diapers must be changed often, and for the same reason.”
The joke hit it, even Nixon started laughing, along with the rest of us.


We all looked around and realized that nobody sitting on these benches had even been interviewed to get into heaven, we all felt that we in that is fate was a permanent position in line at the post office or the Driver License. As
we all waited, we saw a new applicant try to get in by jumping the gate.
The man was Jerry Farewell, who thought being a preacher carte blanch to get in.
As he struggled with his fat body and made into the first part of heaven, there was a loud voice that said.
“YOU ARE NOT ON THE LIST” Farewell now dissolves into a ring of atoms and is heard saying.
“HEY, WHAT ABOUT ME! mE....ME.....ME.....”
We all sat on the bench in limbo, a group of mutts; dogs of all shapes and sizes approached the Pearly gates, they paused wagged their tails at the guard. The guard smiled and yelled come on in.
The stunned humans watch as all the dogs were allowed to enter with no an ounce of trouble or concern.
Next came cats, squirrels, even rats now lined up and were allowed into the depths of heaven.
Twain chuckles that southern cackle and sums up why the humans at the gate were not allowed in:
?
“ Well it looks like Heaven goes in by merit now, you will stay out and your dog would go in”

 


Submitted: August 02, 2014

© Copyright 2021 wily geist. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments