Since I’ve developed a well deserved reputation for missing work on Fridays, I thought it’d be a good idea this Memorial Day weekend to change my colleagues’ opinion of me.


And it was with that innocent intention, I decided to hit my favorite upper west side “Spot” last night instead of my regular Thursday after work hangout. You wouldn’t believe some of the tales I could tell about what goes on in that joint on a Thursday night.
Unfortunately, I realize now, it’s not the joint or the night, it may be the way I’ve been living my life. It’s was about 9:00 PM and the place was filling up with the usual suspects. Slim Slimy and his date Shimmy Shake were already dippin’ chips and pacing themselves with the three-for-one shots of Tequila. Nap Happy and his boys, Sluggish, Woozy and Nipsey Tipsy had bellied up to the bar and started working on a resisting arrest charge, a hangover and some serious legal bills. But hey, who am I to judge. Besides, these are some of my best friends.
By the time Susie Floozie showed up with Blind Blinky and his seeing-eye dog Dope Fiend at her side, the house was jumpin’. And I had to ask myself, what could go wrong on a night like this? I was with my favorite buds, at my favorite spot, enjoying three-for-one Tequila shot night and Doobie, my estranged radicalized Yorkie, was reportedly in hiding. Again! Life was feeling real good; I was just sorry it couldn’t last. Right then, two Russian nightmares filled the bar’s entry. Since they didn’t look like the fun loving types, I wasn’t about to let these strangers put a damper on the evening, so I offered to buy a first round to be hospitable.
When they accepted, but only wanted Vodka, and not Tequila,  I’m thinking to myself, when in Rome, one should do as the Romans do, but what the hell, they were guests. I let it go at that. Once we started tossing back a few, it wasn’t long before I felt like these humorless monstrosities were old pals. They said their names were Yuri and Sergey. They were from Moscow working on behalf of Russian intelligence. I asked if that should be kept a secret, but Yuri just said какого черта. Sergey said that means WTF in Russian. I just said “cool” and “what’s up?” While I was a bit toasted by now, I was able to understand they were looking for something or someone. When Yuri mentioned the word Doobie, I started praying he wanted to meet Blind Blinky’s dog Dope Fiend for a hook up, but no such luck. They wanted my Doobie.
They made it clear, the Russians were now working with the FBI, CIA, ATF, Homeland Security, British Intelligence, Mossad and Interpol to kill or capture Doobie  as soon as yesterday. Doobie was hot as per usual and as per usual every law enforcement entity in the world was turning up the heat on me to help find him. “Please understand,” I slobbered, “I got no control over Doobie. That dog is mad crazy. I’ve been trying to keep a safe distance from him, his associates and his bad influences,” I said. “Well, that might be true, but the fact of the matter is, what Doobie is up to now, no one can be safe from his diabolical reach. Doobie has gone global.” “Kакого черта?” I ask.
“It was from satellite and drone surveillance, extremely dangerous ground level intelligence gathering and a lot of luck that Doobie was identified as the ringleader on a team of Ukrainian hacktivists. We have every reason to believe Doobie is planning to take control of the world’s top secret global mind manipulator.” “Kакого черта?” I said again. “We’re saying, if Doobie isn’t  found and apprehended in the next 48 hours, he’ll have the power to manipulate the will of the world.”
 Holy shit.
Once compromised, reconfigured and focused like a laser on the world’s population, Doobie could change the outcomes of elections, destroy financial markets and trigger wars. As people begin to lose their ability to think independently, they’ll eventually succumb to the Global Mind Manipulator’s irresistible auto suggestions. When Sergey reminded me that Doobie was mad crazy in his request for my cooperation, I couldn’t help imagining what the world would be like if Doobie wasn’t stopped. The dog was evil and that was a fact. I knew he’d never be satisfied with controlling the White House, taking down Wall Street or nuking Canada.
If Doobie ruled the world, there’d be a meth lab in every elementary school. Early teen pregnancies would be encouraged. Drinking and driving would be mandatory. All churches, synagogues and mosques would be closed and padlocked. Doobie would do the same for all prisons and jails. There would be no more crimes, because there would be no more laws. There would be no laws because there would be no one to enforce them. The cops would be the first to go. And don’t even think about trying to escape because even airline pilots would be smoking crack and shooting up heroin in the cockpits. I could see it all now, the entire world would feel like one big party in hell. ” What do you want me to do?” I asked
We have reason to believe Doobie will be somewhere near Brighton Beach this Memorial Day weekend to test the device on the New York metropolitan area. We’re sure he’s working with members of the Russian mafia to pull this off, so we need you to call us at this number (+1-555-555-5555) if you hear from him. By the way, that’s not the real number. They said if I divulged the real number they’d have to neutralize me.
 “Well, I don’t know” I said. This sounds really dangerous. Remember, nobody knows Doobie like I do. What if he decides to use the mind manipulator on me? “Impossible,” Yuri said. You have to have a properly functioning mind before it can be manipulated. And after conducting an international search for potential subjects, your mind was the least active we could locate on short notice. You’ll be fine, he tried to assure me.
When they could see I still had major reservations, they offered me something they knew I couldn’t resist. Yuri handed me a stack of official White House stationery. He said it could be used to write absentee notes to any employer and they’d have to accept it without any questions being asked. My eyes glazed over. I was on a mission to save the world and I had a note from the President to prove it.
To be continued…