The Third Part

"But I thought you didn't like the IUU." Ben said with a suspicious gaze.

"No, no, I uh, think community service is important." Said Brett.

"But you said it felt like being in a slaughter house full of clowns."

"Oh that, well, I just thought Brad was a little weird, thats all."

"Okay." Ben said doubtfully.

"So can I come next week?"

"Sure, yeah."

I've got you now, buwahahaha! You're playing right into my hands you pathetic sap!

"Brett?"

"Hmm?"

"What's with the evil looking, squinty, far off gaze and the ominous giggling?"

Fake a stroke fake a stoke you fool! Quickly, do something! "Seinfeld!" Brett yelled. "NO SOUP FOR YOU!"

"I've got some sales calls to make." Said Ben, turning away with a look of confusion.

That was close. I need to have more quiet time so that doesn't happen again. Maybe a nice bubble bath tonight and a glass of martinellies. I can put in My Best Friends Wedding. That'll be nice.

***

Brett and Kenneth sat on the couch watching an E True Hollywood Story on Justin Timberlake.

"He's hot." Said Kenneth

"Oh yeah."

"So, you gonna go with Ben to the next Rainbow Family chant and rant? Ingratiated yourself with him yet?"

“Yeah. I think he’s buying it.”

“No doubt, what with your superb acting talent and all.”

“I’m sorry, we all can’t be emeritus stars of the wildly popular Merchant of Venice at the very prestigious Washington Terrace Plaza Playhouse.”

Kenneth let out a guttural growl.

“Forgive me, Signor Antonio.”

“I hate you.” Said Kenneth.

“Oh stop pouting. I only tease because I love you. Friends?”

“Forever.” Kenneth said with a lopsided grin breaking on his face.”

“Ah, you’re so cute. Do you want to order a pizza?”

“As long as it’s cheese, or something. I’m a vegetarian.”

“Since when?”

“Yesterday. I just been thinking about it for a while. And Oprah said it's good for your health.”

"But, you love meat.”

Kenneth’s face fell. His eyes were sad. “I know.” He said.

"Okay. Well, your father and I will love you no matter what you decide to do, honey.”

“Please don’t joke about it.”

“Okay. Sorry dude.”

“It’s okay.”

Brett wondered why Kenneth had decided to be vegetarian. He always loved steak with a passion that ran as deep as Brett’s love for Abba. It was odd because Kenneth seemed unresigned to the decision, almost like it was forced upon him. Brett didn’t think too long on it though. He had bigger concerns on his mind. He would very soon be surrounded by Sunshine Generation, all grown up with unstable religious notions. I’ve got to go all the way to the top and bring this thing down hard. Religious psychotics always have a leader. That’s what sucks them in, weak individuality. They have to be a part of something bigger, something that gives them structure. Just like Trekkies and their Klingon conventions. There ain’t a one of em who wouldn’t fall on their phaser at the behest of Patrick Stewart.

Trekkies.

Pshh.

Just like those freakin carnies with their secret meetings and enclaves. With their smelly tents and bearded women. Bearded, WOMAN! There’s only ever one… I wonder if they’re the leaders? The ultimate symbol of patriarchy: The beard, on a woman. Complete dominance over both sexes.

Brett put this thought in the Deep Thoughts To Ponder Later file. For now he had to figure out how to get to the top of the organization and shake it up if he wanted to help Ben. He knew logic wouldn’t be enough. Ben was far too weak-minded to listen as long as he had a “leader” that loved him. Brett had to expose the organization.

“Scientologists are weird, no doubt.” Said Kenneth. “But they are more of a credit card religion and less of a suicide cult. Are you sure the do-gooders of the IUU are dangerous? Ben might just being going through another phase. Didn’t he join the World Financial Group for a while? I’m sure he’ll just lose interest in a couple of weeks.”

“This is different. Ben believes in it.”

“He also believed he could be a financial planner without proper education. I think your infiltrate-and-destroy modus operandi is a little overboard.”

“You didn’t meet Brad. That guy was like mannequin with a smooth talking Tickle-Me Elmo voice box inside. Or like he was possessed by a legion of dead car salesmen… And... Barack Obama. He was like a charismatic zombie or something. Brad… I hate that guy.”

“Alright Brett. Duj tivoqtaH.”

“What?”

“Always trust your instincts. If there’s one thing I learned from the Klingons, it was that.”

“…”

Oh geez, I better keep Kenneth away from Ben before he goes Charlie Manson on me too. This is gonna be harder than I thought.