Dear Igauna,

Deer Iguana,

I sending you manuscript on half of Jack B. Wily. It come in my hand in unortholbox maynner. He say you want synopsis tell you involved a plot. Kill 4 billion persons and to do save trillion and do that only justification could in end give for action. He say he think you understand and let know you it diamond rough way. It only story he written. He think you do to read middle to see thing he is got at. That gold not easy find as pot at rainbow. He say do say Jack put synipsis in letter cover attached to clover. It four leafs paper. Please do to excuse hole snippet. Show evidently of hashish oil residue in burn. I only old man island cop Thailand. This man Elephant Island last twenty-five years. He eighty-five day he dead, September 6, 2044. No one make claim body. You government no record existence. Ashes live shrine Bangkok memorial souls lost. He ask me close encounter act executer will and will hope to do that all money be pay The Iguana Bank account Thailand. OK if give number my account? Can us make some cash in good way like table under? Far as can know now here Thailand, name not Jack Wily now we unable to do identify. Let us do to know you wish buy to story. Some the money build bungalow complex Jack burns and will to do give family tourists he say have do be killed by acquaintance of him. He not know sure Seem to do think people living in he head. His family will to do to control other money. Please see attacked manuscript.

Col. Pot

Lt. Colonel Pot Cop
Island Police Box 21
Elephant Island
Thailand

(SEE NEXT PAGE FOR MANUSCRIPT)


As Pot licked the envelope he wondered if he was doing the work of a psychopath, a madman, and yet still he knew Golem. He knew Golem had done nothing wrong. Pot loved unspoiled beaches and cheap places to stay in. Much of the island he loved was now concrete with little walkways leading down to a narrow stretch of sand and not much higher than the high tide line, was a wall. Pot could remember when the beach was full of coconut trees and the sand glided gently down to shore and tiny waves licked the surface.

Still the Iguana was pissing him off with the way the stupid lizard stared at him as if he was the only human left on the planet. When he looked in the stoic lizard’s eyes, he saw some intelligence staring out at him, some intelligence that seemed almost human, like the eyes of a shaman even, some creature that knew the past. The lizard seemed to be watching him as if to say that it knew what was true and not. And at this point Pot felt complicity. He would drink a bit more whiskey this night than he usually did and smoke a bit of maryana. And damned if he could spell that word after the act.


-------------------------------------------


Address: Deceased Word Count 250,000
Email: Deceased Last Wish: Survival of Human Race
Contact: Golem

Plan B—Termination