Gideon Yago Interview

We will post an interview with one of our Featured Speakers at Convention every day for the next four days. Check back tomorrow for our interview with Rory Kennedy.

"Sorry, police procedure" Officer Bucholz replied.

"How do I talk my way into riding in the front seat?"

Bucholz checked Eli in his rear view mirror and shook his head.  "Well, there's always the police academy."

"How about I buy you supper, or lunch, or forth meal, or whatever?"

"Sorry, I don't eat in my cruiser."

"Do you like working for the Sioux Falls Police?"

Bucholz looked at Eli in the rear view mirror as the car came to a stop.  "Mostly.  Is this going to be in your blog?"

"Ah" Eli said as he relaxed and took a comfortable posture on the back seat.  "So, you know my work?"

"No, the captain said not to say to much."

Eli frowned and watched the streetlights go by.  The trip back to Dell Rapids was going to take a while, and he still had to see if his attempt to get the word to Bob had succeeded.

***

Phil's world was a dark, confusing place right now.

His mind was still racing with the events of not just the last twenty-four hours, but of the last hour.  He had found his long lost fiance Michelle, and found out the reason he had not heard from her in months was the friend who had dragged him from the edge of his life falling completely apart.  He had little choice but to think about all of that, as he was tied to a chair with a cloth sack over his head.  His breath was hot against his face every time he exhaled, and the ropes had almost no give on his arms and legs.  Suddenly, the makeshift hood was ripped off of his head, and the darkness gave way to a different kind of darkness.  The kind where shapes are visible, and where he could get around if only he knew the layout a bit better.

"Phil, right?" came a voice from behind him.

"That's right" Phil said, not sure of what question would be next.

"What do you know about Gerrard?"

"You mean Jer?"

"Sure."

"Well..." Phil tried to consider his answer carefully but he heard footsteps behind him drawing closer.  Thoughtful answers suddenly seemed like a luxury.  "...he was a good poker player.  He always bought pizza...he could hold his liquor?  Am I saying anything remotely helpful?  Believe me, I want to help."

"Why so eager to help?" the voice said, as the footsteps moved closer, but now to Phil's right.

"I'm sick of riding around in boxcars and watching policemen get shot.  I'm ready for this ordeal to be over with."

"Ah yes, the police officer.  You saw that?"

"Yeah."

"What did Mokoto tell you about Jer?"

"She said she...she didn't know him or something.  Just that she knew of him."

Phil heard laughter, and more footsteps.  He couldn't see who was walking, but he heard them circling around.  "Is that what she told you, for real?"

"I'm fairly confident that's what she said."

"What if I told you he used to have a different name, and back then she did know him?"

"How well?"

"Very" came a voice so close to Phil's left ear that he could feel the hot breath on his neck.

"We’ve been fucking around with some new material, & we’ve got enough material already recorded (at least 6 new songs) as well as some unreleased stuff from the OVER THE UNDER sessions. It’s definitely enough for an awesome EP, with some surprises within. "

Check out the whole post here.

And don't miss these amazing pictures by Sonesta.

Oh Phil, you were here, yes, but why didn't you stay?

"This isn't much faster than I was going before. Besides, we need to get there soon."

"Do you think the local law enforcement has moved in already?"

"I hope not. Check my cell phone. Maybe somebody called."

Lewis reached into the compartment between the seats and pulled out a cellphone.  It was blinking steadily, and Lewis flipped it open.  "One missed call from Sioux Falls."

"Do you want me to call?"  Garrett's hand reached towards the middle compartment, but Lewis quickly shut the compartment.

"No, I'll take care of it" Lewis said as she placed the phone by her ear.  After a few rings, a raspy, slightly familiar voice came across.

"Captain Hale speaking.  Is this Garrett?"

"No, this is Lewis.  I'm sorry we were out of range for a bit.  What's the latest?"

"The Aberdeen police are ready to move in.  They have a car watching the hotel, but they're waiting until you get there, or give them the word."

"Hold on a sec" Lewis said as she put the phone against her shoulder blade.  "Raymond, the Aberdeen force has a car outside, should we send them in?"

"No.  They wait until we get there.  We'll be there soon enough.  Tell them to hold them if they leave the hotel."

"Captain" Lewis said, almost before she had the phone back to her head.  "are you in touch with Aberdeen right now?"

"No, but Felix has them on the line."

"Tell them to wait for us, but to bring Anderton and Fulton in for questioning if they leave the hotel.  Is that clear?"

"Crystal" came the dry response from Hale.

"Why don't you give the Aberdeen police my number...and maybe give me theirs."

"Sounds good.  Hang on, I'll page Felix and tell him what you said."

Lewis had her eyes closed, but she felt the car slowing rapidly.  She opened her eyes and saw a flickering orange light in the distance.  "What is that?"

"It looks like a car fire...or something."  Garrett pulled to the left lane and kept slowing down as the car got closer to the orange light.  Soon, Garrett was able to make out a burning car, and one that looked like it had been burning for some time.

"Agent Lewis, do you have a pen and paper handy?  I can give you some numbers to connect with the Aberdeen police."

"Captain Hale, I'm gonna need to call you back" Lewis said, as she spotted a South Dakota Patrolman tied to a mile marker.

"Please."

"First off, I figured out that this Dinkley fellow was not only still alive, but was smuggling drugs with his landlord Geoff Pryb-whatever.  So, from there, I figured out that these to jokers, Phil and Bob, were working with him, but badly."

"How so?"

"The feds were in on it too.  Phil and Bob were told to make a pick up, and they shot Stevens and decided to call in the frame job to teach their other pushers a lesson.  Dinkley faked his death earlier that day, and Geoff brings him back in the same apartment in a few months, with a new name and probably a hair color."

"How did you know which of the feds was in on it?"

"Simple.  One of them knew about my brother.  That was a plant to get my dander up and to throw me off the case, by clouding my judgement.  That told me Garrett was stringing along Lewis.  Thank goodness you came to town, otherwise this might have taken me longer."

"Really?  I helped?"

"Of course Clayton.  I kept you away from them, and when you got into a gunfight with their heavies that allowed me to go off on my own to stop a courier from catching a plane.  Then, I tracked them to Aberdeen and with the help of the force, we nailed them all!"

"Maybe I could get you in at the F.B.I.  You'd be perfect!"

"Oh Clayton, I'm happy with keeping the peace in Sioux Falls.  Thanks for the kind words."

"Well, if nothing else, you should answer your phone."

"Excuse me?"

"I said ANSWER YOU DAMN PHONE!" Clayton was almost yelling in his ear.  Will snapped forward and looked around.  The car wasn't moving, and Will was looking around with a very confused look on his face.

"Where..."

"Huron"

"How?"

"My car."

"Why?"

"To beat Garrett and Lewis to Aberdeen.  Now answer your damn phone."

Will pulled out his phone and flipped it open.  "Hello?"

"Detective Hetfield, this is Doctor Henriquez.  You asked me to call if there was any change with Officer Vig?"

Will sunk as deeply as he could into the Crown Victoria's passenger seat.  "Yes...what's the latest?"

"We need to perform some surgery.  She should make it, but her condition makes it very dangerous.  I just thought you should know."

"Thank...thank you doctor.  Good luck."

"I have a good feeling she'll make it.  I don't want to lose one of you.  You probably don't hear this often enough detective, but I appreciate all the Sioux Falls Police do for our community."

"Thank you doctor.  I'm confident I'll be appreciating your work soon as well."

"Good night Detective Hetfield."

"Good night."  Will closed the phone and took a deep breath.  He heard the door open and shut.  Clayton tucked a credit card receipt under his sun visor and started the car.   Soon they were speeding northward on US-281.

"Who was that?"

"The hospital.  Tina needs more surgery."

"She'll be fine.  Did you talk to her?"

"I...was...right before the car exploded."

"You should get back to sleep.  It's going to be a long night."

You can see all of the pictures from Convention by visiting our sites on Facebook and Photobucket.

We also have uploaded a few videos to YouTube that you can watch as well.

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The sound of the revolver dry firing snapped him from the precipice of a flashback to his entire life.  His eyes opened, his teeth unclenched, and he could feel a few tears running down his cheek.  Laura had a look of whimsical confusion on her face.  She tucked the gun behind her, and shrugged as she smiled at Dale.  She then reached for something in her front pocket.  "Hold this" she said as she tossed a metal ring at Dale's face.  The ring bounced off his head as Laura threw something at the hole in his car's windshield.  She began walking towards him.  Dale's car exploded in a large ball of dancing oranges, reds and yellows.  Laura was past him as a few small pieces of the car landed near or on Dale.  The car lit up the countryside as it burned.  Dale felt a hot wind blow by him, then he felt two arms drape over his shoulders.  He saw a black gloved hand open his shirt pocket and place a bullet in it.  "If you tell them about me, I'll find you and make sure all six chambers are loaded."  Dale heard footsteps, and then a car starting.  He heard the tires rolling away.

Then, the tires stopped.  He heard a car door open, and footsteps coming towards him.  Laura crouched in front of him, and put her hands on either sides of his head.  Dale instantly thought she was going to snap his neck.  Instead, she pulled his head forward, and leaned into him.  Her lips met his, and she gave him a long, slow, wet kiss.  Dale's shock gave way to an unusual calm, and an odd feeling of ease.  Laura pulled her lips from his and rested her forehead on his.  She slid her face against his,  brushing her cheek against his.  He could feel her breath in his hear.  "Dale?"

"Y...yes?"

"I will find you."  Laura then stood up and walked to her car.  The engine revved and soon Dale was alone on I-29, with only his burning car as his company.

***

"My name is Robert Fulton.  I'm from Spearfish, I live in Sioux Falls, and I sell Volkswagens.  I have a degree in history from USD.  In the last twenty-four or so hours, one of my two best friends on Earth died.  I cried alone, and I cried when I could.  Since then I've been threatened at gunpoint.  I've been in a high speed chase.  I've been shot at and I've hid in a smelly old AMC Pacer.  I listened to a crazy old game show addict and hid in a boxcar to avoid the police asking questions.  I pooped in a corner like a guinea pig, and watched my other best friend almost die to help us get off the train, even if it wasn't where I wanted to go.  I've lied to police and almost choked on a cheeseburger.  Worst of all, an error in judgement will probably lead to me losing my other best friend on Earth, and looking back I can't say that I blame him one bit.  Believe me when I say that if I knew what you wanted, or could say what you wanted to hear, I would.  The only condition would be that you point me to the nearest bar so that I may drink myself into oblivion."

Jeremiah looked at Bob with amazement.  "Usually nobody responds when we ask if they have anything to say.  That rant was a record.  Sadly, it doesn't change anything, or answer my questions."  Jeremiah started to take off his jacket, and Bob hung his head.

Check it out! 8.8.08 is the release date for Phil Wickhams new album "Sing Along." I am pretty excited about it as I have recently become a fan of Phil. Click on the picture in this post or the picture in the sidebar to find out more about Phil and the album.

But now we've also got Hannah and Phil staying with us again. Phil is finishing his master's degree course in Newcastle, and has a job working in the Houses of Parliament which began last week. Liz is still working in Newcastle, but has a job in Epsom beginning soon, and so she and Phil will be looking there for somewhere to live. But, in the meantime, Phil is back home, staying with us.

And Hannah has also come home. Chris, her husband, has begun work at Tonbridge Baptist Church as their Youth Team Leader, but Hannah, a primary school teacher, has to work out the term in her school in Waltham Abbey, before moving in the summer to Tonbridge, where she begins a new job at a school in Kent, teaching year 6.

So our house is full again. Unexpected, but lovely - because we know that it's only temporary!

But it seems that people were right, your children never really leave home.

"It handles real nice.  To bad it will probably get identified."

"New license plate and some new detailing and I'll be fine."

"So, how in the world did you track them here?"

"Honestly?"

Jeremiah pulled a toothpick out of his coat pocket.  He looked around the alleyway and shrugged.  "Nah, I don't really want to know.  It ruins your mystique."

Mokoto laughed.  She saw Michelle inside the car, and she wasn't talking yet.  "We need to get them in and separate them.  Phil and Michelle are the ones we can work over the best.  Bob might be a lost cause at this point."

"That's not so good.  He's the one who was best friends with Gerrard."

"I have some ideas for that, but maybe we'll get lucky with Phil."

"The girl?"

Mokoto took a deep breath.  "She doesn't have anything to do with this, but we'll keep her around for now.  I don't think we'll have to eliminate her."

"We'll see."  Jeremiah smiled as he looked over the car's passengers.

"Say, who's Jebediah on the phone with?"

"Beats me."  Jeremiah waved at the silver car, and Jebediah slowly got out of the car.  Once out, he flipped the phone closed.

"Let's get these three inside.  Who were you on the phone with?"

"Mister Man."

Jeremiah and Mokoto nodded.  They turned towards the Toyota.

***

A loud buzzing went off as the phone was hung up.  The chair spun around, so that the back was towards the door.  As the office door opened, the man in the chair spoke slowly.

"Shaun, what can you tell me?"

Shaun looked into the room.  A large, oak desk almost stretched all the way across the room.  The walls were covered in bookshelves, and the hardwood floors echoed his footsteps as he walked in.  He knew how far forward he could walk, and he walked in no further.  "We have no idea where Laura is."

"That is...unfortunate.  Her actions could lead to...storm fronts that were not predicted."

"We haven't heard from our contact yet.  It's possible they're in a dead zone..."

"No.  That's a case of two fronts...merging I would guess.  Fear not, for soon they will all be in the same isobar."

"No word on where the F.B.I. Agent is."

"He isn't my concern right now."  The man in the chair's hand lifted, and three screens on the wall lit up.  The far left screen was a map of the the Dakotas and Minnesota, with some lights blinking red, and other areas were blinking blue, green and yellow.  The screen on the right was a long list of names, amounts and times.  The middle screen was the largest, and on it was the Weather Channel.  The hand lowered as Cheryl Lemke started going over the nation's forecast.  "That's all for now Shaun.  I'd like some time to absorb the new weather data now."

"As you wish" Shaun said, as he walked out of the room.

Hoy, web imprescindible. The Rut

Hay gente buena, gente muy buena y después está Phil Selby. Dibujante de trazo simple y humor ácido, no actualiza todo lo que debiera, pero dense ustedes un paseo por su blog y deléitense con su inteligencia, sarcasmo y finura.

O vayan a blueshines a buscar pareja, hagan ustedes lo que quieran con su vida.

(I'm absolutely) Cuckoo!

———————————————————————–

En otro orden de cosas, echemos cuentas.

Documentarse sobre cómo instalar un Wiikey: 8 horas
Solicitar soldador a mi padre: 1 hora
Solicitar soldador a Patxi: 1 hora y media
Soldador nuevo de 40 W: 6,90 euros
Estaño fino: 1,20 euros
Chip Wiikey: 7,90 euros (más gastos de envío)
Desmontar Wii: 1 hora y media
Descubrir que no era necesario desmontarla del todo: 10 segundos
Volver a montarla hasta el punto necesario: 30 minutos
Soldar chip al lector: 45 minutos
Volver a montar Wii: 50 minutos
Dar la vuelta a la consola y escuchar un tornillo suelto en su interior: 5 segundos
Jurar (opción: hebreo): 10 segundos
Desmontar Wii: 50 minutos
Localizar y colocar el tornillo en su sitio: 10 segundos
Volver a montar a Wii: 45 minutos
Descubrir que me he dejado fuera la rejilla del ventilador: 5 segundos
Jurar (opción: arameo): 20 segundos
Desmontar Wii: 45 minutos
Colocar rejilla de ventilador: 10 segundos
Volver a montar Wii: 40 minutos
Comprobar que lo que he hecho no funciona: 5 minutos
Jurar (opción: multiidioma): 1 minuto
Irse a dormir bastante frustrado: 1 minuto
Malla para desoldar: 1,20 euros
Cable fino: 1,80 euros
Desmontar Wii: 40 minutos
Retirar soldadura anterior: 2 horas 45 minutos
Decidir que, de los dos sistemas posibles, lo mejor es utilizar ambos: 1 segundo
Volver a soldar con cable: 1 hora
Montar Wii: 35 minutos
Activar y configurar chip: 10 minutos
Comprobar que todo funciona y está en su sitio: 1 minuto

Soy Bill Gates, soy Linus Torvalds, soy Richard Dean Anderson, soy Charles Lindberg, Ludwig Van Beethoven y el Capitán América, me cago en todo ya.

El Lobech World Tour '08 nos ha arrastrado hasta Barcelona. Dios nos coja confesados.

Número de familiares en el extranjero: 1. Capital, San José

The speech and the subsequent interview went really well. This is just the start of things to come here at NSCS Convention 2008.

PS - Pictures, too.

"I suppose I should call up the feds and let them know." Hale reached for the phone, as Eli kept trying to suck every last bit of soda out of his Z'kota glass. Felix was having a harder time tuning him out the longer Hale waited on the phone. "Voice mail. I'll try Lewis." Eli shook his glass a bit, then started on the straw again. Felix looked down, hoping to tune him out entirely. "Voice mail again. They must be in a dead spot. Felix, get on the phone and tell them to wait for the feds, or for the word. If they need to talk to me, patch me through."

"Can do." Felix walked out and slammed the door just a bit harder than he normally would. Eli sat his glass on the armrest.

"How soon are you going to let me go? I've told you everything about Bob that I know."

"Not quite."

"No, I'm pretty sure I did."

"What about the summer between freshman and sophomore year?"

Eli smiled and shook his head. "That's an interesting question itself. If I knew I'd tell you, but most of us that he hung out with freshman year would love to know the answer. He came back from Spearfish...different."

"Does the name...Holly Kearns mean anything to you?"

Eli stood up and walked over. Hale was looking at some printouts from the Rapid City Journal's archives. "Holly was a girl Bob mentioned once in a while. They were never serious, more like friends with benefits. He talked about her freshman year, and I think he went to see her once or twice. Now that you mention it, I don't remember her name coming up much after he got back."

"There's a pretty good reason" Hale said, as he flipped to another page. The story was about a young woman being mauled by a mountain lion.

"Damn" Eli said as he read the story. "She was killed by a mountain lion?"

"Not quite" Hale said.

***

"Here is an abandoned pawn shop. It closed about a year ago, but the building sits empty, and we happen to have a set of keys."

Michelle stared at her gun, which was currently pointed between Phil and Bob. Bob was looking around, and Phil's eyes were a vacant, dead stare into nothing. Michelle was thinking over her self defense classes in her head, and was trying to remember where her pepper spray was in her purse. Bob, Michelle and Mokoto looked to the left, as a motorcycle pulled in behind them. Their heads craned the other way as another car pulled in and parked in front of Michelle's car. Michelle cleared her throat and asked "Friends of yours?"

"Wait here" Mokoto said.

Seems that former Sen. Phil Gramm (of "mental recession" fame) was once in the business of financing soft- core pornography. As usual, Mad Max is on it...

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/max-blumenthal/phil-gramm-may-be-gone-bu_b_112781.html

Wasn't Phil part of the family values crowd? Perhaps porn of the softer variety isn't such a sin. Must be the penetration that makes right-wingers so queasy.

Once you're on there you can have the updates sent to an RSS feedreader, or even to your cellphone.

"That stuff is bad for you."

"Driving 120 miles per hour on US-281 isn't exactly good for me either.  This isn't exactly a road built for this sort of thing."

"Relax.  We'll be fine.  So, what else can you tell me about Sioux Falls?"

"Look, I appreciate you trying to learn more about the state, my city and my time in school, but how come you keep asking all those questions?"

"Just making conversation.  And, to be totally honest, I'm trying to see how with it you are after your concussion."

Will fought back a small laugh.  "How am I doing?"

Clayton bobbed his head to the right, and then straightened it out.  "Well, you're don't strike me as a recent concussion victim."

"Thanks.  I'll take it."  Will took a long drink from his water, then screwed the cap back on.  "Now, what about you?  How did you end up in the F.B.I. and then out here?"

"Oh no, we're not talking about me."

"Why not?"

Clayton turned his head and stared Will right in the eyes.  Will looked away, and Clayton looked forward.  "Because" Clayton said, as he reached to flip on the radio.

***

Phil slowly folded the letter back up, and placed in back in the envelope.  Bob still had his head in his hands, and he had not looked up since he had started looking down.  Phil took a deep breath and asked "Why?  Why would you do that?"  Bob didn't answer.  "Dammit Bob, answer me!"  Phil grabbed his shoulder and started shaking Bob, but Bob wouldn't look at him, nor would he answer.  Phil threw the letter to the floor of the car and reached for Bob's throat.  Bob's neck was slowly compressing in Phil's hands, and Bob was fighting back, albeit with halfhearted punches at Phil's forearms.  He weakly punched Phil's fists as Phil shouted "WHY?" over and over.  Michelle was hesitating to stop Phil, but she was still trying to pull Phil away from Bob before Bob died.  Phil's grip only tightened.  Another voice was just at the edge of Phil's mind.

"Turn right, then park behind this building."

Phil kept squeezing as Bob's weak punches stopped coming.  Bob was becoming a rag doll in Phil's grip, but he couldn't stop squeezing.

"We're here.  Phil.  Phil?  PHIL!"

Phil snapped his head up and snapped back to reality.  He looked down and saw his fists clenched so tightly a few fingernails had actually dug into his hands.  Bob was looking around, and Michelle was sitting behind the wheel, her face a mask of concern, anger, and confusion.

"Where's here?" Bob asked.

"I was."

"Have you been following me all day?"

"Mostly.  It's hard to lose somebody in a town this size."  Mokoto adjusted herself in her seat slightly, and the gun was briefly not fixed on Michelle's location.

"If I agree to cooperate, will you stop pointing that gun at me?"

"I've heard that one a few times" Mokoto said, as she kept the gun pointing towards the car radio.  "Sometimes I believe it."

"Are you going to kill Phil and Bob?"

Mokoto didn't answer her question instantly.  She looked ahead to a red light and simply stated "Keep going straight, I'll tell you when to turn right."  She lifted up the gun and once again pointed it at Michelle, keeping it lower than the windows.  After glancing at Phil and Bob, she again looked forward and spoke.  "I don't want to kill them.  I don't plan to kill them.  I shouldn't have to kill them."

"You didn't answer my question" Michelle said as she shifted to the right lane.

***

Dale Roberts slowly opened his car door, but decided to try his on-board computer one more time.  For the third time, his computer read "ERROR" when he typed in the black Jetta's plate.  He shook his head and got out of his Highway Patrol cruiser.  The sun had mostly set, and he could see a handful of stars in the sky.  The Jetta's window slowly came down, revealing a smiling brunette, whose hands were still on the wheel.  Dale flashed his light inside the car, but he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, with the exception that the car was unusually messy for a female driver.  "What seems to be the problem officer?" she said, her smile not breaking for a moment.

"Well ma'am, you were speeding just a bit, and by just a bit I mean you were going 113 miles per hour in a 75 mile per hour zone."

"I'm sorry officer.  I'm meeting some friends up North and I got a bit carried away.  But, I want you to know I'm not trying to talk my way out of a ticket."

"I need your l-"

"License, registration and insurance?" the woman said, cutting him off in mid sentence.  She slowly lowered her sun visor and handed Dale a license, along with some other folded paper under it.  Dale lowered his flashlight slightly and took the papers.  The name on the license read 'Laura Dell' and it indicated she lived in Sioux Falls.  He unfolded what he thought was the registration paperwork, but the paper felt really odd.  He noticed what looked like two threads coming off of it, that almost looked like wires.  His eyes followed the threads and noticed they were really long.  In fact, it looked like they went all the way back to Laura's front seat.  Laura smiled as Dale heard some kind of click...

Yeah, I'm picky.

So, he's got nice cologne, good sense of humor, good looking.  But do I actually like him?  I'm halfway between that thought, and thinking that I moreso just like liking someone.  And he happened to walk into that 'someone' role.  I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about him.  

So here's a secret: the other night, when I was drunk, I went upstairs with wicked-drunk Phil (or so we'll call him) to his room, and I ended up staying there for a while and we did some stuff.  Nothing too crazy.  But he doesn't remember a thing...guess he was blitzed.  I didn't get all scary and emotional, which is something I'll want to examine, but I'm still not sure how I feel about it.  I guess it was good clean fun.  I mean, I did enjoy myself.  But am I all about emotional detachment?  We'll see.  

Regardless, Phil's not even a contender to be a player in the story of my life, this was more of a fluke thing.  More on Manuel later, when it's not so late after such a long day.

Michelle pulled onto 6th street, but she was adjusting and checking her rear view mirror more often than usual.  Her stomach was a knot before she came to the Millstone restaurant, and now it was not only tightening, but new ropes were coming in while old ropes were fighting to free themselves from the tangle she was becoming a part of.  Her heart rose when she saw Phil, then sank when he revealed he wasn't in town for her.  Her anger was on the verge of violence when Bob made his confession, and she was ready to take it out on both Bob and Phil.  All of that rage was still there, but it was now backing down from the sudden surge of fear from the mysterious woman now sharing her front seat.  She glanced over, and saw a gun aimed squarely at her head from the woman's lap.

Mokoto kept looking around.  She was aware that any vehicle higher than the small car they were in would see the firearm.  She also was trying to keep an eye on all of the variables in the car.  She had a pretty good feeling that if Bob and Phil didn't have a wedge between them already, they would now.  Phil was mesmerized by the letter, and he now had something to lose...Michelle.  Michelle was the one Mokoto didn't know how to read quite yet.  She'd been tailing her most of the day, but she still didn't have a firm grasp on what to expect or how to handle her.  She was guessing she also had something to lose, but little to offer.  Right now Mokoto was happy to use her as a driver, even if it meant Jebediah would have to bring her motorcycle.

Phil read the letter's ending, and he went back and started reading it again.  It was everything he'd hoped and feared it would be.  It pulled no punches in specifying where Phil had gone wrong in their relationship, but it also shouldered Michelle with some of the blame.  It touched on everything she realized she missed about him, and about them.  Most importantly, the end revealed she wanted to give Phil options.  Those options ranged from Michelle never writing again, to flying out to Las Vegas and getting married once he had decided.  If he'd gotten this three months ago, he wasn't sure what he would have picked.  If he'd read this after last night, they'd be in Vegas already.  Now he was hoping that once this was all over he'd be able to choose, and that Michelle not only still wanted him to, she was still able to.

The car hung in silence until they approached main street.  "Turn right" Mokoto said.

Mishri is going to take over the bulk of the blogging for next week, as she live-blogs from the convention. I'll try to throw up some good pictures and maybe some video at the end of everyday as well.

I hope to see everyone there, and if not, you can follow along here and on our Facebook page.

Bob froze in place. Phil wasn't moving or speaking, and seemed to be on the verge of screaming. Michelle looked at each of them and then to the woman, who slid her hand out of her jacket. It was holding a handgun with a long silencer. "My name is Mokoto, and I'd appreciate better insults than Lucy Liu wannabee." Michelle took a step backward. "Michelle, we need to talk, and we need to go, so why don't you drive us around a bit. Or, I can end all of you right here, right now." Mokoto's face was like stone after she spoke. Michelle waited a moment, and finally Phil spoke.

"We...we should do what she says."

"Good. You two, in the back. Michelle, you drive. Needless to say, I call shotgun." Phil glared at Bob and walked towards the car. Bob slowly started making his way towards the car as well. Michelle started reaching into her purse. "Call 9-1-1 and I kill you right now" Michelle heard as she held her phone. She let go and pulled her keys out slowly. Her hand was steady, even if her nerves were not. She slowly walked to the car and unlocked the door. She sat in the drivers seat, and considered trying to run while she pressed the unlock button. Mokoto slid into the car once Bob and Phil were inside.

"Where are we going?"

"I'll tell you when to turn. Get back onto 6th and go West." Mokoto reached over with her left hand and fastened her seat-belt while keeping the gun on Michelle with her right.

Michelle backed up and pulled the car to edge of the Millstone parking lot. Mokoto finally smiled. "You two are a bigger pain in the neck than I gave you credit for, you know that?  I haven't slept in a day or so." Bob looked out the window, while Phil crossed his arms and looked down. Mokoto placed her gun between her knees and locked her legs together. She reached into her jacket and pulled out an envelope. "Phil, I think this is yours." Bob, Phil and Michelle all looked at what was in her hand, and they all recognized Michelle's handwriting instantly.

***

The black Jetta roared up Interstate 29. Laura Black kept checking her display. The blip wasn't moving, but it was still well North, but also now to the West. She didn't even know what exit she was approaching, but she knew eventually she'd have to pick one. She saw a pair of lights fly by on the left on the Southbound lanes, only to see red brake lights follow. She watched her rear-view mirror as the car took a dirt service road, and started flashing the all-too familiar red and blue lights.

An investigation has reportedly been launched into whether MOTÖRHEAD frontman Ian "Lemmy" Kilmister committed a crime under German law by wearing what appears to be a Nazi cap in a recently published photo. The picture in question, which can be seen below, appeared in a German newspaper prior to the band's July 5, 2008 "Wacken Rocks Seaside" concert in Aurich, Germany with MACHINE HEAD and SAXON.

All "anti-constitutional propaganda" — and specifically any attempt to propagate Nazism — is illegal under article 86 of the German Penal Code. Article 86a also prohibits all "anti-constitutional" symbols, including all Nazi insignia, flags, slogans and salutes.

Speaking to the New York Waste web site, Lemmy stated about his Nazi collection, "I don't only collect Nazi stuff, I collect objects from all the 'axis countries.' Also from countries who aren't even mentioned anymore as former part of the axis. Like Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, Finland, Hungary. OK, in the end, they all said, 'We're no Nazis' when they saw that the Germans were losing it. But five years before that, they went, 'Yeah!'"

When asked where he gets the objects he collects, Lemmy replied, "The USA is a great place for collecting that shit, 'cause the GIs took everything back to America. They took fucking warehouses full of uniforms, Mercedes staff cars. One guy shipped a Focke Wulf 190 fighter home in pieces and rebuilt it in America. Now he owns the only fucking FW 190 in the world. I used to buy a couple of things in Germany, but now you can't take anymore knifes or things back home in a plane. And it's become more relaxed to buy stuff like that [in Germany]. There's five or six stores in Hamburg especially. They're advertising it. What's the point, anyway? It's not a nationalistic kind of thing, I mean, what the fuck you're gonna do? Pretend it never happened? There's airplane model kits of Messerschmidt 109 fighters. Shouldn't you touch them?"

On the subject of whether people should wear uniforms, Lemmy stated, "I'll tell you something about history. From the beginning of time, the bad guys always had the best uniforms. Napoleon, the Confederates, the Nazis. They all had killer uniforms. I mean, the SS uniform is fucking brilliant! They were the rock stars of that time. What you're gonna do? They just look good. Don't tell me, I'm a Nazi 'cause I have uniforms. In 1967 I had my first black girlfriend and a lot of more ever since then. I just don't understand racism, I never thought it was an option."

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