Let me get this off my chest.  I write two Pulitzer quality columns on Elvis and the Queen.  Do I get any honour in my own family?  Not a bit.  That sullen bastard servant mike has ridiculed my work, telling me it had “the stamp of congenital idiocy and mental illness upon it.”   He went so far as to tell me I might as well start reading and, even worse, believing the Book of Morons to learn about the adventures Jesus had in America.  As so often happens with prophets, I’ve no respect in my native land.  When I told mike that, he suggested I shouldn’t count on much respect elsewhere either.  What can I say?  The man’s a prick.

But I refuse to let the injustices I suffer keep me from continuing my story.  I liked Zanzibar.  I got upset when we left.

In the first place, even though Lucky was pressing hard to get started, Danny and Saul were meticulous.  Mosaad insist nobody should run around killing enemies of Israel willy-nilly. Useful killers prepare.  So, everybody waited on Wolverine getting the CV-22 scheduled.  

One moonless evening, Lucky woke me at about 01.00.  She threw me in her carryon.  We headed to the beach.  Imagine my total horror.  She was moving into the ocean to get on some kind of Zodiac boat.  You may know them as inflatable craft that are little more than floating swimming pools.  She entered the faux boat..  Danny and Saul entered with two other Israeli brutes, bodyguards for them, no doubt..  Be assured, these two monsters looked nothing like the weenie Woody Allen at any age.  There were two coxmen to run the craft.  We headed into the dark, placid ocean.  

Perhaps 3 hours passed before the boat halted.  The coxmen had used some weird navigational equipment to guide us in the dark.  

I aggravated Lucky when I turned her carry on into my personal urinal.  What could I do.?  Every relationship has its ups and down.  Perhaps 3 hundred feet from us or, more likely, a 100 meters, the sea exploded as a Dolphin 2 Sub surfaced.  Lucky had to drag me onto that sub.  If you think about it, why would a hydrophobe want to be anywhere near a sub?  Besidies, everybody knows subs are crewed by bitter insomniacs who have or will have bad marriages.  

Once boarded, I didn’t get the idea that the Israelis had spent a lot of money to make the sub commodious enough to suit me.  About 20 minutes after we were all boarded, I heard the commander issuing commands in Hebrew, a tongue that is gibberish to me.  Then, as I trembled in Lucky’s strong arms, I felt the Dolphin diving. I squirmed, and then Lucky’s voice entered my ears, “Master yourself, darling, or I’ll burrito you.  Must you behave like a pussy in a Celine novel.  Be braver than Bardamu, sweetie.” She then had the cheek to smack my bottom to demonstrate the sincerity of her command to self-master..

It was an outrage, but I was too terrified to defend my honour.  After a short bit, Lucky suggested (insanely) being inside a sub was no worse than being in a house during a torrential rain.  A sub?  No worse than a house?  Didn’t she know I had seen Das Boot more than 4 times.  I also had clippings of the Thresher’s implosion.  And then there was the Kursk’s sad end in the Barent Sea in 2000, and I’ve just mentioned disasters we know about.  In 2005 or so, an American sub managed to run into a mountain.  That’s right! a freakin’ mountain.  My wise fear was the expression of the purity of my scientific knowledge +  judgement.  Yes, sometimes knowledge + judgement = fear.

Whether I liked it or not, we were underway.  I was trapped.  Fear had reduced me to a puddle of fur and pee. 

I gathered that a Dolphin 2 taxied at most 10 commandos. We were to rendezvous at some point off the Somali coast to join additional Israeli killing machines on a disguised vessel.  The Point of rendezvous was where the CV-22 would land on the larger ship’s helipad.  We then would be off to Victory or Doom.  

Anyway, we reached the rendezvous point.  How long it took is beyond my reckoning.  To cope with the pressure of being on a sub, I found a spot in the torpedo room, perhaps the quietest place on a sub, to sleep. Of course, lot of noise started once the sub surfaced.

I went and found Lucky.  Her sarcasm irked me.  Did I get any lovey-dovey strokes when I hopped into her lap?  Of course not.  Instead, she led with “Done hiding, darling?”  She should have just kept her mouth shut.  Perhaps I should have opted to befriend Danny and Saul to spite her. That’s my life: Could’ve, Should’ve, Didn’t.