Insert Chassis Albuquerque: December 2016

Albuquerque V. Honest Al's

Honest Al's Rental Cars
143 East Boulevard 

New York 


Good afternoon, 

Please excuse me, I’m terrible with names – I don’t even recall my brother’s - and am unsure who to address this to and your letter of FINAL DEMAND was mostly red in overly large bold letters; incidentally, the use of such literary devices is something we writers often frown upon, sentiment is it cheapens the literary tone of whatever it is one is attempting convey. 

Anyhow, to point: I am aware your invoice to me for car rental was due the 17Th October and it is now one month later. I am sorry to have to be the bearer of bad news but, obviously upsetting for me, due to a number of frauds committed on myself and having issued a instructions to my solicitors to take action against the perpetrator I am therefore unable to make payment for the bill due to yourselves for this period of car rental. 

This is obviously upsetting for you

The News.

The celebrity of any kind of fame is just someone being sodomised by the many.
"Singing TV star Famous Vintage was found dead yesterday evening. Sources closes to the reality star said he’d been exhausted after a long series of failures, TV reruns and Pizza joint performances…” the TV news presenter was saying. They cross to a police interview.
“There are very serious flaws in the different eyewitness testimony of events from that night. We do not currently have all the answers collated into a clear, succinct format that will help resolve these inconsistencies. But PCP will do that to the otherwise normal people, make them feel they are invincible and we are obviously growing increasingly concerned about the effects of drugs and money on famous people and the correlation that exists between the two,” the police said.


"That's him there," the CIA Director said, nodding over his coffee in Albuquerque's direction. "Chassis Albuquerque, take a close look, Northfields, that's an anarchist. Jesus Christ! Look at him, out here, mixing with the people, in public - my god! This is dangerous, any moment we could have some kind of overspill...!

Invoice S11034

The new Director, I don't know where he'd learnt to be a person but he could certainly use some revision. I’m not saying he’s an immigrant but with the nose and eyes of a foreigner raising questions about his ethnic background you’d have had some really good results  animal testing him, why within weeks of his taking command of the company the persecutions had begun.
Further, I’d just fallen asleep in the toilet the other day updating myself, how unprofessional when the shadow of his smudgy, distorted face pressed through the glass opaque cubicle toilet door looking for answers only I had apparently.
“Johnson, we have accounts on the line and they have a query regarding invoice S11034 - invoice S11034, do you know it…?"

Other Me Makes A Break For it...

The first time I ever travelled back in time wasn't for scientific reasons, it was to a few minutes earlier - my wife and I had had an argument and, as usual, she'd managed the last word. Funny that, but with a time machine, well, all that shit could change because probably for the first goddamn time in history a man could have the last word. So fucking around with time and potentially fucking up history irrevocably with time distortion crossover felt a risk any man should take, any.
Time travel, pretty goddamn specialist, I'd picked up this particular time machine for just a few bucks from an online auction site

Filter Drift...

My body is flooded with chemicals, I am fully harmonised, I'm not worried.
"Have you started going to gym again?"
"Not yet. But I've started seeing a therapist and this might be extended to a second meeting."
“What's she say?”
I went off the record.
“She says technically I’m fucking lazy. I did learn something interesting, though - the word psychology, you know what it means? The study of the soul. Very deep, right?"
"I don't think it means that, not any more. And she's explained what you are, a minor writer of minor standing?"
I nodded. She's aware I've sold very little of my work, particularly my best, most recent work reviewed and well regarded by many people other than my wife and close, personal acquaintances, The Sundial Salesman. I was talking to myself in the mirror, in the 3rd person. I often talk to myself, tell myself things are going to be alright. But then another voice interrupts and says:

Discoverability & The Art of Funnelling.

I was at a book expo recently, several things happened – firstly there were a lot of angry authors, most of them Indie, you know, self-published? They were up in arms like the Paris mob who’d stormed the Bastille, beheaded the mayor and then walked around with his head on a stick – a clear warning to the ruling French establishment.
These Indie types hadn’t beheaded anyone - yet, but I could tell they were pretty close, their main grievance was over the issue of “discoverability”, crucial for Indie authors such as ourselves.
They had a traditional publisher backed into his cubicle.
He looked scared.
And he was right to be.

The Customer

"World of Books, hello…?" a woman's tired voice says.
"Hello? Is that World of Books?" Albuquerque asks; his phone call is embarrassing, torturous ritual.
"That's what I said, World Of Books - what number did you dial?" the woman replies.
Albuquerque does not cut deep with her but making some austere effort at great personal cost to himself, trying to disarm her and sound at least a little gracious he asks: "Nice to talk you, what part of China are you from?" and falls at the first hurdle.