brandy alexander

BRENDA BRANDY ALEXANDER

A Sagacious Saga about Salvation

By Izzy Ess of Willingness

A high-class hooker, Brenda Brandy Alexander had once serviced Kings and Queens and CEOs.  Her coffers overflowed with gold and frankincense and myrrh.  Her reputation spread easily by word-of-mouth and she enjoyed a lavish life-style in amongst the royalty and business world.  She almost died when she was with an evil Spanish Count who wanted her to work exclusively for him.  When she demurred he drew a long stiletto and he ran her through her liver and her lung.  Close to death, she was resuscitated and quite widely surgerized.  Luckily, a plastic surgeon, Mr. Jonathan Blaine Smythe, he fell in love with her and vowed to put her back together, seamlessly.  His creative sewing healed magnificently and eventually she looked as if she’d never been attacked.  Ms. Alexander was so grateful, she seduced him free of charge and he invited her to stay with him in his exclusive flat with views of London and the Thames.  She got along with Jon’s quite beautiful and long-time mistress, Lorelei von Furstenbergen, very well.  In fact, her gourmet cooking added much to this quite wealthy trio.  Lorelei was good at housekeeping and Jon had expertise in home repairs.  Peace and happiness suffused the doctor’s flat.  The king-sized bed with mirrored walls and ceilings, cameras and listening bugs, was shared in pairs or triplets every night with joy and satisfaction.  And, both women were quite adept at making Mr. Jonathan just sweat and scream and ask for more.  Ms. Brandy and Ms. First were also feeling overstimulated and so satisfied beyond their previous experiences.  Mr. Jon was often called to see emergencies at Royal British Hospital, which kept him busy, day and night, at times.  The women came to see each other as companions, avid lovers and good buds.  Unfortunately, Ms. von Furstenbergen’s husband, Johann, found the flat and burst right in one night when only Brenda and our Lorelei were there and naked, lying intertwined upon the bed.  So startled were the lovely women that they tried to service Johann but he was so very angry, looking for revenge.  He drew a loaded Luger from his belt and shot the two of them between the eyes resulting in severe brain damage, but not death.  Herr Johann ran.  He threw his loaded pistol in the Thames where a smart male Orca swallowed it and took it out to sea, where he got rid of it in Baffin Island’s Bay, on his way north to feed and propagate.  A neighbour called Police but Bobbies got there much too late to find Herr Johann Furstenbergen, General for Hitler in the second bloody all-inclusive war, supposedly to end all wars.  There was not any good connection made to General Johann by any Bobbies who had no small clues to make reports to Scotland Yard.  Their last report concluded that the assailant or assailants were just unknown.  The General lay really low for sixteen months, he being busy with the Neo-Fascists in the New Hamburg Hotel and at the Haufbrauhaus in Munich, where the cells of Neo-Fascists fashioned plans for genocide, a purifying goal for Aryans.  Mr. Jonathan B. Smythe, a Fellow of the RCS and former RAF heroic pilot, during WWII.  His co-pilots, Our Saviour Jesus and a Jewish man, Canadian, a Dr. Harry Somers, shot down many Messerschmitts and Fokkers, injuring or killing many German pilots of the famed Luftwaffe who had dropped their deadly bombs on London and had shot at innocent civilians, with machine guns in their wings.  Mr. Jon contacted the doctor, Harry, in Toronto, Canada.  Our Harry took a year’s sabbatical from the Toronto Sick Kids Hospital, where he was a neurosurgeon and a proud Professor in the field of Paediatric Neurosurgery.  He helped evaluate the comatose two women, Brandy and Ms. Lorelei.  He recommended quickly doing surgery to fast extricate the bullets in their brains adjacent to the hippocampus, which was severed in them, both.  Recovery was quite amazing but the women suffered severance of the connection in between the right and left sides of their brains.  Rehabilitation was prolonged while progress was evident, apace.  The women formed a stronger bond and learned to supplement their functionality in tandem, so-to-speak.  What one could not accomplish, the other helped and both became successful.  Discharge was a happy day for Jon, Harry, Brandy and our Lorelei.  They celebrated with a dinner in a great café with smoother Zinfandel and the Ananas Flambés.  That night at Jon’s fine flat they all made love together and enjoyed the night.  In the morning, Harry left to go back to Toronto, with a round of fond good-byes.  The doctors had a private session in the hall, as Jon accompanied our Harry to his waiting cab.  They decided to wait a year or two before embarking on a quest to find and punish the perpetuator of the shootings of the lovely women whom they loved.

Three years went by.  Ms. Brandy and Ms. Lorelei remained quite happy with their Mr. Jonathan, who’d hired a guard for his apartment every time he left his girl-friends, in order to perform his duties at the hospital.  The guard, a Mr. Samuel Brookline, was given privileges in the flat and soon became a wholesome friend for all of them.  He was tall and muscular, quite potent and athletic.  Both the women and our Jonathan enjoyed his company and his gymnastics in the bedroom.  He provided an important feeling of security for all of them.  He’d had some military service, specializing in communications and electronic detonators.  He and Jon began discussing plans to ferret out the perp.  Sam expressed a willingness to get in on a future plan to get revenge.  The women felt relaxed and quite protected with this tall, strong, military man on guard.  They also felt rewarded by his sexual gymnastics and his loving gentleness.  Our Harry came to visit with his girl-friend and the six of them got famously along.  The bed was big enough for all of them as long as the entwining and enjoining was real close.  And, it always was.

Another year went by before the men began to plot their plans for finding out who shot the women and escaped.  Our Lorelei could give some information where he might be found.  She knew about the meeting places of the Neo-Fascists in both the Haufbrauhaus in Munich and New Hamburg Hotel.  Jon and Harry still had some connections with Intelligence at RAF.  With little trouble they did ascertain that Lorelei was accurate.  The RAF spy network also knew of these two places and confirmed that there was genocidal planning going on.  The RAF was helpless to assist in the revenge but wished them luck and further information for the future.  The trio bought themselves an antique Spitfire and refurbished it with top equipment, guided by our Sam.  The three of them were learning how to fly the plane and use the new equipment, specifically designed to locate cells of Fascists in New Hamburg and Munich.  They made five trips to Germany disguised as tourists, the women coming with to cover their disguises.  The RAF supplied the detailed maps, extremely helpful as they walked around old Munich and the New Hamburg.  Several times they spotted quiet meetings that looked like pay-dirt but they did not linger lest they cause alarm.  Our Lorelei did spot her ex and turned away and walked outside before she gave her observations.  Harry took some secret photos and the injured women did confirm it was Herr Furstenbergen.  They walked the streets around the sighting and discovered Johann walking out and heading for a building, an apartment house that had his name embossed on mail boxes in front.  Returning then to London, they reviewed their photos and surveillance and they made a plan.  The women, including Harry’s girlfriend, Mary Southern, stayed behind as all three men took off to fly their newly renovated Spitfire.  They cleared their plans to fly and act with RAF and they approved, so long as no connection could be made between the RAF and the Avengers.  Harry had just chosen this as code-name for the brave triumvirate.  The Spitfire had been entered in an exhibition south of Munich where the planes of WWII, the Fokkers, Spitfires and the Messerschmitts, had been convened.  Japanese and Russian planes were scheduled to be there, as well.  The plan was simple.  They would make some natural maneuvers but get lost, just south of Haufbrauhaus, and greet Johann directly with the Spitfire’s guns.  They knew that Johann walked the three blocks to the Haufbrauhaus and he would have to cross a widened boulevard at exactly 2:05 pm.  The Spitfire took off on the scheduled runway at exactly 1:55 pm.  Our Harry was the co-pilot to Jon and Sam was navigator with his maps and fancy instruments.  They spotted Johann and his girl-friend at exactly 2:05 and Jon pulled up the plane.  He said, “The woman isn’t in the planning that we did.  She’s innocent!  We’ll try again, tomorrow.”   It did not work because the woman still was there with Furstenbergen and Jonathan pulled up again before they pulled the triggers to the Spitfire’s guns.  They left the aeroplane displays, returning to their London flat to discuss the situation.  The RAF contacted Q at Inner Circle and the reply was that they would take care of it.  Exactly one week later, the papers showed a “freak” explosion, destroying Haufbrauhaus and the New Hamburg Hotel, simultaneously.  German papers, some supportive of the Neo-Nazi movement, were perplexed but could not blame the Brits because the operation by the Inner Circle was clandestine and extremely well-disguised.  No reports were ever written by the Inner Circle.  About a week or two went by and a report was leaked to newspapers regarding the mysterious death and disintegration of some very prominent Neo-Fascists in New Hamburg and Old Munich, caused by unknown terrorists.

The group in London, Harry, Jonathan, our Brandy, Lorelei, our Sam and Harry’s girl-friend were overjoyed.  They felt that justice had been done.  They prayed for God for His forgiveness.  And, they celebrated their survival with some dinners and some extra time in Jonathan’s huge bed.  Harry and his friend arranged to move to London.  The group of eight good friends had purchased Bellingham’s old castle in the south and lived happily and safely, ever after.

THE END

© izzy sommers, md

Welland, Canada

August 6, 2013