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
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