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Forever Mastadon ~ Episode 217

…Stealing a plane is a Federal offense, even if it’s in the name of God…

Blue Ridge Angel-001

In his spare time, since and leading up to the star status assigned him by the other 34 living, breathing and exceedingly thankful passengers who were aboard The Blue Ridge Angel when she crashed (no bigger fan than Rev Billy himself), Ace Bannion goes over the repairs made to that fated plane with the ever mercurial, yet reliable Agent Daniels.

“She looks as good as new Bannion, but it pays to land on 3 good wheels.” Know-it-all-smart-ass. “How much did you pay for this beauty, it looks like a C-47?”

“Not a bad guess for a dirt-hugger like you, but it’s actually a BT-67 refurb actually and we actually stole it.”

“Stealing a plane is a Federal offense, even if it’s in the name of God.”


“65 grand of Hurst Publishing money, bought and paid for, I’ll have you know. Too bad I had to scrape up the belly.”

55th St.-001

“Hey, at least no one was killed, right?”

“All I know is, I never want to read the numbers on a house from an airplane cockpit again!”

“You won’t be bothered much longer, I promise you,” Daniels knows his nemesis well and knows of what he speaks. “My good friend Pentateuch is in for a rude surprise at that baseball stadium. He will be expecting to have his usual unabated fun, but Graham is preparing a recipe that will set him back for a good, long while.”


“Are you saying that we can kill the Devil?” Ace is hoping for the best.

“No. You found that out in Italy, right? I love that Constance woman, but I could have told her she was wasting her time trying to blow him up.”

“She loves you too, but hindsight does not replace her revengeful satisfaction… or that fantastic Italian getaway I might add,” fond memories. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to pry that woman away?”

“Away from what, may I ask?”

“From whom, Daniels, haven’t you been paying attention? All I need to tell you is: Worth Moore is the finest lawyer north of the South Pole!”

“Wow that would make him pretty good.”


“Worth Moore is the finest lawyer North of the South Pole.”

Episode 217


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Forever Mastadon ~ Episode 117

…She opens the door, revealing a dust covered Agent Daniels…

Look closely and you won’t see

“There is nothing Ace, not a damned trace of that building………it is like it wasn’t there all along,” she hands her binoculars to him.

“You must be crapping me! It is one huge dusty nothing; zero debris, like it was vaporized!” he stands amazed.


Stunned silence.

“You know this shouldn’t surprise me AB, not after all that other weird stuff I’ve seen.”

“It appears that we succeeded in annihilating an illusion.”

“No 39th floor, no building… no revenge, I’m not feeling the love here.”

“Shadow boxing is good practice for the real thing CC, so now we know that not everything is as it appears.”

Suddenly there is a knock at the door.

“Could that be Polizia Locale?” asks Ace in his best Italian. “Better open the door.”

She does so revealing a dust covered Agent Daniels.

“At least we know the dust was real!”

“And you are???”

“Bannion, Ace Bannion.”

“I assume you are the one with the demolition skills,” the Daniels/Cephus points at the remaining crater. “I certainly did not expect you to pull it off, Constance.”

“How did you know we were going to blow the place into eternity?”

“I have my ways,” a good G-man doesn’t show his entire hand. “Eternity would be nice, but this will do for now. It will take him a while to relocate, but he will.”

“Who is he, may I ask?”

“You haven’t guessed by now?”

“The Devil, the real deal?” Ace remains skeptical, despite Connie’s background stories.

“You may choose to ignore him, but Satan is real and he is looking to devour mankind’s collective soul.”

“How does he fit that on his business card?”


“It is his calling card you want to avoid. If he leaves that, it means he has already done his dirty work.”


Tune in tomorrow

Episode 117


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Forever Mastadon ~ Episode 70

…Speak of the Devil…

“Why do I have this atrocious feeling that this Libby situation is not finished?” Pentateuch, the merchant of immorality, has been fighting an eternal battle, the battle for a world of unbelievers. The denial of God’s existence is almost secondary to his other mission: ‘If mankind does not believe that I (the devil & his minions) is real and walking among them, they a like ripe fruit from low hanging branches.’ “You tell me he has died, froze to death, instead of being locked away?”

“We didn’t think he would be exposed to the cold for so long,” Canisso proves just how imperfect evil can be.

“Do you not think the Divine One will seek to avenge this innocent man’s death? This wasn’t just an ordinary human, Canisso, he was about to tell the world that they have been lied to, the fraud of all time. After all, what is ten billion years among friends? To those of us who are ceaseless, the passing of time is of little matter, a million, so what. But to a human, it is maybe 70 years, most of which is spent clinging to their precious life.

“And up until now, they have been properly bamboozled, choosing to believe their flawed science, rather than the Word of the God who made them.”

“God made us too, Master.”

Upon reflecting on that not small fact, Pentateuch reverts to his defiant nature, “We were His Angels also Canisso, but we seized the power to be His equal, while the others chose to hang around and worship Him.

“The meek shall not inherit the Earth if I have anything to do with it.”

What a bold stance to take, be it brave or delusional.

“Who among “them” would be willing to sell their soul Canisso?” the Dark Deceptor refers to that pesky CCI bunch, which has not gone away. “One of them must lust after money, power, ecstasy, something.”

“That cabbie Eddie sure would like to be some sort of hero or famous or both.”

If anyone pf them can be had, Pentateuch will test them, tempt them, take them for his own.


Episode 70

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Religious Artifacts

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Gordon B. Hinckley

“Cultivate an attitude of happiness. Cultivate a spirit of optimism. Walk with faith, rejoicing in the beauties of nature, in the goodness of those you love, in the testimony which you carry in your heart concerning things divine.”

― Gordon B. Hinckley

William Shakespeare

“The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.”

― William ShakespeareThe Merchant of Venice

Simon Van Booy

“The beauty of artifacts is in how they reassure us we’re
not the first to die.”
― Simon Van BooyEverything Beautiful Began After


Birds of a Feather (Start Ch 11)

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Birds Of A Feather

Chapter Eleven



Every war is won or lost by first fighting battles; sneak attacks, ambushes or crusades, campaigns. And depending on which side you are on, sometimes it doesn’t feel very good.

Now for Pentateuch, it is one thing to be put in his place by the Divine One, Canisso’s untimely demise being an example. It is something that he has had to accept as a precondition for his status as chief Earthly foil. But to have been pricked in the side by mere humans, as is the case with the recent loss of his handy habitation in Rome, is utterly unacceptable.

What puzzles him the most is how those pesky gnats were able to locate his papal perch in the first place. It is not like he is the owner of a worldwide franchise: a SATAN’S PLACE sign hanging on the front of each of his lairs.

Being known, unwelcome byproduct of his infamous misdeeds, is not a situation that he is comfortable with. The fewer human beings who see him as real the better; he can prowl and devour much easier with mass ignorance.

The other nagging issue is, if he has squashed the threat to his Great Deception, then why it feels like the battle continues to rage on is a mystery, even to his darkened doorsteps.

He really misses that Canisso guy, having had good confidence in the area of creature loyalty. He is not the first company casualty in the course of human history, of those devoted to Pentateuch, but as it applies to the Great Deception, there is no replacing Canisso.

Come to think of it, most of his current problems seem to revolve around the proximity or lack of said and the one named Cephus. The Divine One didn’t strike him down at Tolentine like He did Canisso, nor was Cephus at Via Catone the night of the annihilation as he was expected to be.

“Establishing a strategic base with both the requisite temperature control and placement near religious confluence is critical, Cephus. Find me another one before the day is out.” Because of the eternal heat of his primary dwelling place, where this fallen angel must spend the majority of his time in the company of dead non-believers, he has found it necessary to regenerate his countenance in a refrigerated environment while spending time “above” the Lake of Fire. “I have had that building since before my faithful Petrarch’s corruption had to give way to that tepid reawakening. I so long for another dark age! ” The age of forgetfulness was a fertile playground for nearly a millennium. He attempts to add a historical frame for his cause, into the soul of Cephus.

And Pentateuch has a singular way of summoning his subjects, lacking the omnipotence of the Divine One. It is definitely off-worldly and without a physics elucidation, and can be directed at a single person; hearing things that are inaudible to everyone else.

Daniels/Spencer/Cephus has that exclusive receptor and though it startles him every time, he generally responds, in accordance to his nefarious duties. Considering the recent setbacks suffered by his current manic manager, James/Daniels has been removed from his “Spencer/Cephus” cloak by the home office, in a preemptive attempt to save him from harm. They cannot remove any telepathic traces that remain, but he can jettison three of his five names, “The Rogue” expiring along with his Vatican and Hades tags.

The Dark Deceptor is calling, but no one is home. Daniels girds himself, while aftershocks are being felt around the world, even in places without continental faults; Geiger Counters chatter in the wake of a big planetary belch.

Possessive to the core and persistent to a (with) fault, Pentateuch reaches out to his new favorite mischief-maker Langston Cannon. Considered a charlatan and a madman by his critics, this inspired individual has begun to express himself in print. He has left his mark in the genre named Science Fiction, but that is fiction is the purest sense. He wants to be recognized as a pioneer in real science and in his book Dianetics: The Modern Science of Mental Health he steps into the burgeoning field of “self help” literature.

The Church Of Spiritual Engineering that Pentateuch has suggested and the Scientology vision of L. Dick Cannon both remove Christianity from the equation, which is an ideal platform for agnostic perpetuation.

Individuals with demagogic-al tendencies are especially susceptible to suggestion and Pentateuch is well aware of this man’s aspirations and the need for publicity. Without proper publicity, idealistic materials can die on the vine. One useful tool that is ready to be availed, in the toolbox of trouble, is Hollywood. They need a popular medium to offset all the negative pushback from medical professionals. If they can recruit and educate a movie star to publicly endorse Cannon’s imaginary “engrams” or the “auditing” that cures people of all negative experiences, they can gain a lasting foothold in society.

The Dark Deceptor has appeared to Cannon before, using his most clever human recruitment guise, the appearance of the corporate executive D. Joseph.

“I have arranged for your book to be placed in the view of several actors in Hollywood and one in particular, Orson Wells. He seems to be curious about your theories.”

“Oh yes, Macbeth is masterful, a delicious cross between Wuthering Heights and Frankenstein, love his work. I saw his Dr. Faustus in New York back in ’37 I believe. The ol’ devil would be proud!”

‘Foolish blind stupid human,’ inaudible mutterings.

“He had a difficult childhood, an alcoholic father and mother who died when he was only a boy.”

“That is a perfect candidate for an auditing. He can be rid of all that negativity and I will lead him to see the light.”

“Excellent. I will be monitoring your progress.”

Neither would Cannon understand why he needs to be watched or what role Winters might play in his church.

“Do you have a telephone where you can be reached?”

“I will find you,” unwise, sightless, and dense.

“I have  chosen to give Satan a platform to push a fictional agenda. But what God does (in this book) with a few short sentences, Pentateuch takes pages + he requires the help of Earthly minions, instead of Angels.”


33 North LaSalle, a Devil of an Address (Ch 3 pgs 45)

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33 North LaSalle, Chicago

Eddie, for his part, escorts his road warrior brother back out to his truck, “My cousin Jimmy drives for England Trucking, part of the million mile club, but he drives forth and back to New York twice a week. Do you drive in Ohio? Make sure you watch out for the speed traps……”

Once the initial shock of discovering Fanny safe and sound, the requisite debriefing are out-of-the-way, Constance leaves her in Martin’s care for the remainder of the day. The excitement meter needle needs to return to normal levels.

Eddie is re-gathered for the task of taking her to 33 N. LaSalle St. She is going to see what she can find out about World Agnostica. What is their deal?

“That building at 33 LaSalle is one of the last skyscrapers built before The Depression. I don’t get many fares from there, bankers are cheapskates.”

“That’s a bank building, interesting?”

“I don’t know if you know, being an outsider, but 39-whatever means you’ll be going to the 39th floor?”

“Thanks for the tip Eddie,” she looks up at the top of the building. “If I’m not back in 30 minutes, call the Coast Guard.”

“The Coast Guard is another name for the sissy’s navy. I don’t think they have guns on their boats……..”

“I was only kidding. Instead of waiting, let’s park the car and you come in with me. I may need the back-up, but stay 20 feet behind me.”

“If anyone asks me what I’m doing, I’ll tell them I’m here for a mortgage on my house.”

“Meet me on the 38th floor and don’t talk to anyone.”

He visually zips his mouth shut.

“You’ll need a lock for that.”

The right elevator takes Constance up to the #39 she had pushed, noticing that it wasn’t as worn as most of the others. After several stops and starts on the way, she alone disembarks at the final floor of the building. She steps out into an incomplete level, without form or function; no carpeting, no paint, no lighting and not a single non-believing soul to be seen.

She begins looking into each of the six doors on the floor starting with 39660. Empty. 39661, empty. 39662, 39663, 39664 + 39665 all empty, yet spotless, floor to ceiling. Before she gains access to the last, Eddie pops out the left lift. “They saved on furniture!”

“Nothing here, but I feel like I’m being watched.” She looks back at where she’s been. “Look at my footprints, they last for three seconds then disappear.”

“Footprints, do you see the water vapor coming out when you speak?” Eddie is getting the creeps.

“Do you hear that,” she asks reacting to the sound of whispering?

“Hear what? I had a grenade go off inside a building at the Battle of Verdun. Didn’t see the kraut who tossed it, but it bounced into another room, my ears still ring some.”

“It’s like a half-dozen people came up with you. The chatter is non stop, but I can’t pick out any single words. It’s babbling.”

“I’ll take your word for it. Can we leave?”

“I have one more office to check.”

“With Fanny safe at Martin’s house, Constance & Eddie D. tackles a building that may give up some clues……or something else???? The Devil?”