Christmas With Its Ears Cut Off - Page Three

    Over the next few months, as more and more Boat People were granted asylum in the USA, Andy began to tell the story of his service in Vietnam to anyone who'd listen. And, as with any good lie, each time Andy told his story it grew. By September he was telling people who'd known him since he was a child that his real name wasn't even Andy Kevels. "That's just a code name I picked up during my time with Special Operations", Andy would explain to mystified friends and relatives before launching into a tirade against the Boat People.
    On the morning of Friday December 1st - the day after Thanksgiving - Andy was driving to work when, out of the corner of his eye, he'd glanced something that he'd never seen before. Four right turns later, Andy was sitting in front of Than Quan's X-Mas Forrest. Andy blinked in astonishment. He was starring at a forest of evergreens that seemed to have virtually sprung up overnight. Andy silently mouthed the words that he would repeat like a manta over the next month "Gooks. Gooks selling Christmas trees".

    "Gooks. Gooks selling Christmas trees", Andy said to his wife, when he returned from work that evening. "Jesus Fuckin' Christ - that's sacrilegious!"
    Noel didn't speak. She just nodded her head. Over the past months she had learned that the wrong response could trigger an obscene filibuster - or something much, much worse.
    Andy spent all of his free time, over the next two weeks, parked across the street from Than Quan's. He knew what had to be done and slowly he began to map out a plan. But first, like it or not (and Andy definitely didn't like it), if this mission was ever to get off the ground Andy would approval from the Commander-In-Chief.
    It's very likely that the tragic events that were about to take place could've been prevented. The flood of letters into the White House's mailroom over the holiday season had created a huge backlog of mail that still needed to be read and sorted into one of three different piles. The first pile contained letters that would be responded to with a form letter and a picture of the President. The second pile contained letters that would be sent directly to the office of the President. The third pile contained letters that were to be brought to the immediate attention of the Secret Service. During a normal week, Andy's letter would've gone into the third pile the day that it arrived. However, as things now stood, it wasn't until January 4th that mailroom employee Mrs. Eunice Grossman, a forty-one year old mother of three, got around to reading the following letter:

       Dear President Carter the Fag
There are gooks selling Christmas trees! We both no what must be done! Just because you fucked up once doesn't mean you can't make things rite. I was in Specal Opps and have killed over a dozzen gooks and have their fucking gook ears to prove it (I only took one ear from each gook. That is why there are only thelve 12). I no that you cannot opennly aprove my mision, but if I do not here other wise from you in one (1) day than I will no that it is ok and there will be some fucking dead gooks.

Yours in Christ,

Andrew M. Kevels