Bullwinkle: Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbit out of my hat.
Bullwinkle: Oops, wrong hat.
EARLY SPRING 2009 Easter Island unmarked cavern complex…
The cavern complex of volcanic gas tubes had been discreetly ventilated to provide adequate oxygen to the deposed Middle Eastern ruler and several of his loyal Special Forces followers. The smells of the recent supper of baked chicken, sweet potatoes, and corn wrapped in banana leaves, still permeated the dimly lit cave facing the valley of King Hotu Matua. The tunnels led to various chambers of the first cannibal long ear tribes prior to the erection of the famous stone giants on the island.
The deposed ruler reminisces about his former life as he pulls one of the remaining bottles of aged fermented Yaks milk (kumyss) from the desert camo ALICE pack. The scent of strong alcohol adds to the odd mixture of odors in the cave. In particular, this former tribal storage chamber is dark even with the portable light systems along the curved ceiling of the cave. The deposed ruler continues to think of his return while stroking his long beard. His infamous actions making him the object of billions of dollars in a world-wide hunt for his head.
The odd feeling of something not quite right suddenly sharpens his awareness of the current surroundings. The first thoughts of the final conflict with opposition military special forces is rudely changed as he looks into the obscure side chamber not noticed while he sat and ruminated on the floor of the cave. The dirty matted face looks like an obscene caricature of that American cartoon creature (was that Bugs Bunny or was that Crusader Rabbit?) about a foot from his face. The scarred fur and ripped overlarge ears shows the elements of the wild brawling life not uncommon with some of the career soldiers he commanded not so long ago. The ruler has the confidence in his ability to convert this odd creature to be his ally and loyal foot soldier. His evil charisma has done this to many in the past…but not this time!
This was his last thought before the dirty paws gripped his head like an steel vice and snapped his neck, thus ending the chapter of the once revered and then reviled Middle East leader. Floppy enters the cave proper and stretches. At this point Floppy could have become a heroic icon of most of the world for this deed, but his motives was just for the kumyss. His nose twitching he takes a long pull from the aged fermented Yaks milk. Floppy completes the remaining short work on the remaining sleepers and the lone guard. Once again, Floppy contemplates the Australia debacle and considers his future as he stands at the entrance of the cave. Looking at the starry sky, Floppy packs the remaining alcohol bottles, various currency, and (obvious to Floppy the rebel) the fake identification documents. The decision to stowaway on the next cargo ship to Chile and enter the civilized world is made!