Oliver Benjamin
“So you’ve found Utopia.”
“Yeah. Beats the shit out of Israeli kibbutzes. When I got here I
convinced them that I was really serious about joining and I told
them all the shit they wanted to hear about how the Omniraja is a
great guy and all that. So they gave me a ceremony and all of a sudden
everybody wants to be my friend. We’re having a big party with tea
and vegetable shit so I go get some rum and smuggle it back onto the
compound. I grab these two chicks and we break into this warehouse
and climb up on these crates and one thing leads to another and…of
course I passed out. But listen to this—We’re high up on these crates
where no one can see us, and I wake up because these guys are
talking really loud and I’m listening to what they’re saying, and I
can’t believe what I’m hearing! Jake, there is some serious shit going
on here. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t heard it myself, but
these guys are planning a world conspiracy of unimaginable
proportions! Listen to this…”
Just then, the waiter brought us our meals and the distraction
caused by the sudden onslaught of food caused Yippee to commence
stuffing his face and lose his train of thought entirely.
“Rambutan,” I said, “Will you please continue?”
“Oh, yeah. Where was I?”
“I think you were about to tear the lid off of a huge world
conspiracy, or something.”
“Oh, yeah. Right. So these guys are talking and over the buzzing
in my ears the best I can make out is what they’re talking about is this
important shipment they just got from the Middle East in exchange
for something they managed to obtain from some high government
official in India for a really high price. But they kept referring to
everything with vegetable code names, so I didn’t know what it was
that they were talking about. Anyway, I figured it was something
serious, and decided to investigate.”
“What have you discovered? What was all that stuff?”
“Well, at the moment busy cozying up to the most powerful
people in the ashram and trying to pick their brains. My plan is to
figure out who knows what, use a little rum truth serum and see what
materializes.”
I started in on my meal, eating with my hands as the Indians
did. My inexperience caused a great deal of rice and lentils to miss
my mouth and end up on my white dress. “If you’re serious about
this,” I said, “you could be risking more than your forehead.”
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