Rasputin is alive and running for president.

"if an amphibian can run for president, why not me, a sentient rabbit or great wit and ambition." With those words Rasputin, dressed in an ill fitting Santa Costume, announced his intention to enter the primaries Though conditions of parole, probation, and probate expressly forbid him from actually campaigning in Iowa, and several other states, he understood the power of the internet and pronounced himself the first Virtual Candidate. Thanks to the legalization of Marijuana in farmville he knew he had that block squarely behind him, though some of them were still in pursuit.

Knowing that the divorced males voting block appeared to be key to the nomination, Rasputin, whose marriage status was in some doubt in several relationships past, reached out to three women who he'd avoided the process servers of, and suggested they try again with suggestion that they might try filing the first ever class action divorce. He called a press conference and asked their help in finding any other abandoned or otherwise obsolete wives that he may have overlooked.

Rasputin's first campaign pledge is to say "everyday can be Christmas - if we turn the ATF into a distribution agency. Who needs food stamps when you can have Ammo Stamps?

Knowing that the divorced males voting block appeared to be key to the nomination, Rasputin, whose marriage status was in some doubt in several relationships past, reached out to three women who he'd avoided the process servers of, and suggested they try again with suggestion that they might try filing the first ever class action divorce. He called a press conference and asked their help in finding any other abandoned or otherwise obsolete wives that he may have overlooked.

Knowing when to lie is the hallmark of a good politician, and Rasputin, a master, intimated that his former wives might be entitled to retroactive alimony, child support, and other substantial payments, he left out the part about publisher's clearing house. This tidbit, which increased the newsabilty of his story resulted in applications from six hundred seventy four scorned women - he reckoned about thirty four of them had some sort of score to settle and pushed for Secret Service protection.

In the debate Rasputin adroitly defended his polygamy, by stating his belief that the government should stay out of his, and for that matter, anyone's bedroom. This got some huge cheers and a wink from the female candidate who was wearing a dominatrix outfit under her power suit. His suggestion of raising revenue by issuing licenses to registered sex offenders was met with some derision until he claimed he could balance the budget on those revenues within two years. "Of course we may need revise a few statues, he said.. What if a Gay marriage license cost ten million dollars?

After polls and interest group surveys came to the conclusion that rational positions on any issues were trumped by personal attacks and pandering to emotions, Rasputin decided his campaign slogan would be 'F*cks like a bunny' - how could anyone argue with that? And if it conjured images of the other candidates in bed, so much the better.

Knowing that 75 percent of the internet is devoted to porno, Rasputin decided to take his campaign to California where he proceeded to make a series of XXX rated commercials which he then uploaded to the net. After one grueling session which involved dominant dwarfs, submissive sheep, and enough silicone enhancement to keep dow-corning busy for a week, Rasputin stopped by the studio canteen and picked up a pop-tart which inexplicably had an image of Buddha embossed in the strawberry icing. Will this pop tart impart wisdom and enlightenment to our befuddled hero - or will he try and sell it on Ebay?

Rasptuin held the Buddha embossed pop-tart and realized that his enlightenment might make a good photo op which would take at least three hours to set up, but he was hungry now, besides the pastry was a bit worse the wear from having been subjected to an Ebay auction that did not reach his minimum.

The word 'chapter' implies a degree of orginization which may have been lost

Awaking to the clang of his cell door opening, Rasputin was greeted with the welcome words, we found a receipt from AC Moore which proves it was a frame. They are letting you go.
The good news ceased when Rasputin opened the envelope containing his belongings, "Where is my invasion plan?" he asked.

The clerk looked at a list and with a bored voice which had taken twenty three years to perfect said, "Not listed here."
Sensing that arguing would be futile, Rasputin left the police station, bought a large bottle of gin, across the street, and wandered until he found a public library where he commandeered a computer a...nd told a librarian who was trying to be helpful, "Someday this table will be in the Smithsonian."

The librarian who had her own bottles of gin secreted in the stacks, nodded. She too had her fantasies and, despite his rather scruffy appearance, this rabbit had a strangely attractive something that kept her from asking if he had a library card.
At home Rasputin had a specially designed keyboard designed to accommoda...te his paws, here he made do with a lot of typos.

From a server deep in Eastern Europe Rasputin unleashed an elite group of Nigerian bankers, who, with a special script, befriended everybody on facebook Then with data purchased from ROTFL Associated he misdirected lurid email to those rated most susceptible and automatically logged them into "The Farmers Daughter", a ...website which had been made to look like Farmville, except it wasn't fields that were being plowed.

The librarian, a woman who built walls of books to keep the world at bay, looked over Rasputin's shoulder and was intrigued as he pushed a teenage girl away from the computer next to his and called up Farmville Cam which showed a seemingly uneventful day, Uneventful until one noticed the armored tractors driving up and... down the roads, patrolling the fields of grass he had planted.

It took Rasputin a second to understand what he was seeing, in the short time he'd spent in dalliance as an admiral had given drug cartels time to move in to farmville. "there goes the neighborhood," he thought realizing that it was a good thing he'd misplaced his invasion plan. He was, he knew going to have to adlib like never before.

There was only one force greater than the drug cartels, and that was their mothers. Rasputin called up his specially designed search engine, and thanking Facebook for its recent addition of specialized groups, he began an ad campaign designed to attract this set of users. Unfortunately they were all distracted havin...g been a primary target of the Nigerian bankers he had just unleashed.

Rasputin had not adequately covered his tracks and his ad campaign got
him a hundred emails promising everything from defenestration to
decapitation.
And he knew that once again defeat had been projectile vomited from the mouth of bulimic victory.

Just when things seemed hopeless the librarian tapped him on the shoulder. "It's my lunch hour, would you like to go to a juice bar?"
Wondering if she would get turned on by the dewey decimal system, Rasputin logged off the computer, but not before taking note of an upcoming convention of Napoleon Re-enactors. "Your n...ame isn't Josephine by any chance," he asked?

This was not the first time Rasputin had drunk himself through a lunch hour and missed a significant appointment, but for once it was fortuitous, because the invasion path was squarely in a cross fire between the cartel and the DEA which had been keeping an eye on facebook since the phrase invasion of privacy was invented.
When he awoke, Rasputin opened his eye to behold another, smaller, eye an inch form his. Fearing the DTs he asked, "Who are you?" not at all sure he wanted an answer, or what one would mean.
A surprisingly bass voice responded, "We have come to help with the invasion, would you like to see some references?"
BBC - Earth News - Cane toads are evolving into super-invaders
news.bbc.co.uk http://news.bbc.co.uk/earth/hi/earth_news/newsid_9096000/9096795.stm

The cane toads had a propensity for stealing motorcycles, and wore little leather vests with "Bad Toad" embroidered on it. Their idea of helping with the invasion was taking over, though they threw Rasputin a bone and told him he could be 'spokes-rabbit'. Rasputin's displeasure was muted by his new found relationshi...p with the librarian whose taste in historical re-enactment featured Catherine the Great.

When Rasputin protested to the toads that the invasion had been his idea, one of them said to him, "lick me." Rasputin who was still coming down from an acid trip which had encompassed five continents and two oceans kept his tongue in his mouth. Instead, he returned to the librarian seeking solace only to find her dre...ssed in jodhpurs.
"It's not what you think it is," she said as she laid the riding crop down.

Rasputin's mind was so addled he had no idea what he was thinking. After a long pause he said, "Need more drugs."
The librarian, who long ago had given up on men, scowled, remembering exactly why she had come to this conclusion. Still, she wasn't ready to give up, Rasputin was the closest thing to a sentient companion... she had met in quite a while. Besides, she liked the idea of playing dress-up with Napoleon.

Dispatches from Farmville reported the toads were swiftly consolidating their hop to power. An elite team was working with the programmers, and they were on the verge of unleashing a beta version which would force all the residents of farmville to eat bugs and worms as a part of their daily routine. Rasputin realized... this was good time to stay in the background, and went onto ebay looking for Napoleon accessories

The librarian, who had changed her name to Catherine when she was twenty three, was not in the least bothered by historical inconsistencies. Her experiences with men were such that she was glad to be rid of the species. She was a little concerned though about the prospect of bringing Rasputin to Thanksgiving dinner at her mother's.

Catherine's mother, who was so liberal she had lesbian leanings, immediately got out her old edition of the Joy of Cooking when her daughter broached the subject of bringing a rabbit to Thanksgiving. This was just one more complication for what was a difficult holiday at best - for a number of often dramatic reasons.

Rasputin, for whom Thanksgiving had always been a holiday of misgivings and misanthropy, realized that the invite meant that Catherine envisioned the relationship would last at least 30 days. He hadn't maintained a relationship for that long since his last stretch in county jail.

Reports from Farmville indicated that the cartels were resorting to a ruthless campaign to crush the cane toads with a heavy application of steam rollers. Unfortunately this made the roads so slick with yuck the denizens of Farmville were forced to stay home, and, in doing so, they discovered a new computer game whic...h involved going to a virtual nude beach and spending the day ogling each others imaginary bodies.

Rasputin regains his edge.- installments added chapter ended?

As the battleship closed in on the cruise ship, the radio came alive with questions about intentions. Rasputin, who knew the food on the cruise ship would be better than what he could come up with in the abandoned galley below, asked if he could join them for dinner. He offered to bring a red wine he'd discovered in the hold.

Unbeknown to Rasputin, the cruise ship was hosting a voyage of vegan hedonists who immediately saw in him the leader they had been searching for. When the party got really going and the asparagus was being put to multiple uses they called on him to share his vision.

Rasputin, who realized this crowd was just the sort needed to spice up farmville, stood and spoke of a utopia where the farm animals would not only NOT be eaten, but would be honored members of the community. His speech was cut short when the Captain informed him that he should return to his battleship because another vessel had been spotted, a ship flying a flag the captain had never seen before.

Who would have thought that hedonistic vegans would be so turned on by a battleship, Rasputin mused, as he turned the ship to face the oncoming enemy which turned out to be a coalition of militant carnivores and fanatic gardeners. For many of his volunteer crew this was a holy mission. As they armed the guns they sang Strawberry Fields Forever.

The carnivores opened with a salvo of big macs and then strafed with kilbasa. The gardeners, who objected to the lily salads popular with the more artistic vegans,sent forth a load of compost most ripe.
The vegans were having trouble calculating the angles to bring the guns to bear as the luddite faction among them ...had 'set the computers free.' Things did not look good for the admiral.


It was clear that the only escape possible would be through the use of drugs and alcohol. This was a technique with which Rasputin was quite accomplished. He had been saving a mega hit of what was reported to be a chemical clone of Sandoz acid for just such an eventuality.
It was an interesting trip - note new picture of our hero.

It was a powerful hit of acid, for a while Rasputin's persona became confused with Christopher, an anti Pope from 903-904. He was not certain if this was a past life or simply a confusion of spirits. After this episode passed Rasputin discovered his inner dog which unfortunately chased him around for an ugly twenty minutes.
Eventually the inner dog tired and went off to sniff a fire hydrant giving Rasputin time to get into another frame of mind. This time he chose an ornate goldleaf.

The ready made frame proved to be an irresistible opportunity for Cheryl Langley, an assistant district attorney with a smoldering ambition for elected office. Before he was fully down, Rasputin was arrested and under interrogation for most of the unsolved crimes in Carroll County. This was not a groovy way to end an... acid trip, Rasputin protested, as he offered to sign Cheryl's petition to get on the ballot.

"If only you were a republican," Cheryl said. "besides, as a convicted felon you'll lose your vote."
"But I'm a member of the carrot party - it's like the tea party, but better for you." Rasputin knew he was grasping for straws, but maybe he'd find the one that took out the camel.
Having shown enough of her softer sid...e, the ambitious ADA said, "You know where you can stick your carrot."

Rasputin who had been known to swing in many directions, some simultaneously, was no stranger to vegetable sex; still this interrogation, even though lengthy, had to be considered a first date. Naked frolic which included vegetables, no matter how nubile the eggplant, was not something he did without knowing all the p...articipants well. After all, he did have some standards.

Still, he sensed there was more than a casual insult in Cheryl's remarks and wondered if this might lead to a rapprochement with her, and more importantly getting him out of this jail. After all his invasion was scheduled soon, and once he again knew what day it was, he would know exactly how soon.

Chapter 6 but who's counting?

In a move that dazzled even himself, Rasputin transferred the 'Fleas of Jesus' to a woman named Joan, another fictional character who was better equipped to assist them in their mission. With the invasion less than a month away Rasputin set up a command center in the remains of what had once been a movie theater located in downtown Farmville.

The theater, once named the Bijou, had been built in downtown Farmville in 1928. Over the years it had been a movie theater, an Elks Lodge, a movie theater again this time playing x rated films at midnight (with usherettes who wore pasties and g-strings) and finally a bingo parlor. Abandoned for eight years it had be...en inhabited by a family of raccoons who negotiated to keep the balcony when Rasputin moved in.

Vowing to get the revolution back on schedule, Rasputin dressed up in his band leader's uniform only to realize that the supplier had mislabeled the package and that he was now an admiral in the Italian Navy. Even worse, the sailor's suits were cute, and well cut, but not appropriate for brass instruments.

The Admirals uniform fit as though it had been tailored for Rasputin, though there was a bit of trouble with the hat That was to be expected though, and a couple of holes could accommodate his ears. For a few minutes he imagined himself of the bridge of his flagship cruising the Med. It could be a grand life, perhap...s better even than the headaches which would come once he assumed the throne of Farmville.

Being an admiral had its perks, though the residents of farmville were a little slow to salute. This caused Rasputin to spend a little time contemplating which gestures acknowledging his rank and power he would like to instill in his subjects. The single finger would be easiest but was not at all what he had in mind,... the kowtow was a little too extreme except when he was especially beneficent.

Being an admiral had its downside too Rasputin discovered when he was informed that Italy was on the verge of a war with Albania over fishing rights and other issues which had been simmering for eight hundred years, and that he was expected to take his ship into the middle of a minefield to show that they would not be intimidated.
"There has been a mistake," he said.
"No mistake," said his adjutant who ushered him to the bridge of a battleship which was suspiciously devoid of sailors.

Alone on the bridge of a battleship headed for a minefield, Rasputin tried to alter course, but found the rudder locked. In an attempt to stave off panic he ran in circles until he bumped the engine controls and discovered that be could control course by reversing one of the engines.Though a cumbersome way to steer a ship, he had a large body of water to experiment in and decided he would attempt to bring the massive warship back to farmville to support his revolution.

The list of things Rasputin didn't know about battleships, the ocean, and navigation would put a strain on the servers at Wikipedia. The gps would not take Farmville as a destination. Eventually he spotted a cruise ship on the horizon and decided to follow it. Now knowing where he was going, Rasputin went below to look for the wine cellar.
Unfortunately the battleship was faster than the cruise ship and the distance between them narrowed rapidly.

Uh oh

Rasputin may have just given me the starting point for a new novel. This is a good thing, but I feel the tides of weirdness pulling strongly. I am not sure where this is going but it sounds like a lot of fun.

Joan loved her cats. She had six, unless one counted the three mostly wild cats who came to the patio in her garden apartment for food on a moderately regular basis. It was one of these cats, probably the yellow tom she called "Scrapper" who brought the fleas which were to transform her life.


To The Mc Millian Literary Agency:
I know this sounds crazy, and my therapist is concerned too if that is of any consolation to you, but please read on. It all started when one of "my" cats (I use the quotes because you can not really posses a cat - if anything it is the reverse) came home with what I initially called an infestation of fleas. Again, I know this sounds crazy, but these fleas are the direct descendants of a flea who inhabited Jesus' beard, and they have a truly lost Gospel which they want me to share.

Chapter 5 -completed.

The giant cargo plane was filled with seedlings - phragmities. loosestrife, kudzu, and rambler rose. One large section was curtained off. Rasputin, on whom the
flight suit was several sizes too big, sat on a jumpseat behind the pilot who was trying to find Farmville on his charts.

The second officer, a woman who had clearly seen her share of government issue strangeness, offered Rasputin some ear protectors which clearly would not work for him, and shrugged when he passed them back to her. "The parachute is the bigger problematic for you anyway."
Rasputin who had never heard that word used as a noun wondered if pointing out a grammatical oddity would enhance his chances of survival.

As the crew member called the "drop officer" explained the procedure, Rasputin regretted the clause in his will that specified that his ashes be dispersed from a plane. It seemed redundant, but before he could call his lawyer the big door in the back of the plane opened and large bundles of loose strife were being positioned for the first run. Looking out the window he saw the just plowed fields of Farmville .

"Remember it's not the falling that hurts, it's the sudden stop," Those words shouted over the roar of the passing slipstream did little to help Rasputin keep calm. He wished the plastic surgeon had enhanced his ears, enough that they would provide lift and enable him to glide to earth. He figured they would need be seven feet long, then a strong large hand gripped him. "What about the parachute," he shouted?
The drop master shouted, " we don't have one in your size. The good news is we're flying at fifty feet so the plants will take, just stay in the moment."
An instant later Rasputin was very much in the moment as he was launched with a large bale of rambler rose.
In his autobiography Rasputin thanks Tolle for giving him the presence of mind to realize that this was in actuality, a briar patch. In the four seconds before impact he wormed his way into the center of the bush and grabbed his foot for luck.

While plummeting to earth, as he grabbed his lucky rabbits foot, the left hind one, Rasputin was struck with the notion that this might be his last opportunity to kiss his ass goodbye. There was no time to think this through, the rambler rose struck a muddy patch and in an instant Rasputin was ejected and slid for

fifty yards ending up in a shallow pond as other plants landed around him.
This was not the dignified return Rasputin had fantasied and planned. In some ways it fit though, his farewell speech had been, "I've been thrown out of better places than this..."
The immersion in the pond cleaned most of the mud off, so when he emerged to find a small crowd assembled, he was able to feel presentable.
The residents of farmville were not happy at the rain of invasive species, but as they muttered, the giant plane made a second pass this time releasing the cargo which had been hidden behind the curtain.
In an instant farmville became the largest pot farm outside of Northern California and Rasputin realized that they might have to rework the score 76 Trombones would become 76 lead guitars. The goofy uniforms would work though.

Rasputin, back in a new stoned version of farmville, sent word back to his invasion force, "bring munchies." As a young rabbit he had sent some time on the fields of the USMA at West Point and knew that it was an innovative commander, able to make use of unexpected turns, who was often victorious. The only problem was that the fields of ganja planted were of exceptionally high quality.
The resistance, a small band of feral chickens who had escaped the knights of columbus bbq, was trying to burn the fields with predictable results. But the plumes of smoke which wafted in were enough to make him want to defer decisions and watch cartoons.

Unfortunately for Rasputin grass was a gateway drug. Will the rabbit revert to his junkie ways, hock the band instruments, and forsake the revolution?
Posted a link to The Velvet Underground - Heroin (song only) www.youtube.com

"Never, never buy drugs from a goat." Rasputin screamed, as he realized he'd been burned. He kicked himself with both feet, once for being so stupid to buy talcum powder in a little plastic bag, and again for having come so close to forgoing his destiny and nodding out when he should have been leading the revolution.... He consoled himself with the thought that goat stew would be served at his inaugural ball.

Rasputin set up his command post in the abandoned grain elevator at the edge of town. Unfortunately some of the left over wheat in one of the bins had developed a fungus which when inhaled had an effect similar to LSD.
When you add messianic to megalomaniac, you get an ego about the size of Massachusetts, and this mi...ght have been a hindrance were it not for Rasputin's sense of timing.
As the sun rose Rasputin stepped out onto the top of the grain elevator where, backlit by the sun, he proclaimed himself Lapin of God and in possession of a revised set of commandments.
The residents of farmville, still stoned from the brownies eaten the night before, had a "FAR OUT" moment.

After descending from his hallucinogenic heights, Rasputin knew he had promised more than he could deliver especially because he had only a piece of cardboard

and a worn out magic marker that left streaks. A revised set of commandments was going to take a bit more than that. He'd asked his friends for suggestions and

gotten none.
As he started his research he found there were conflicting versions of the commandments in the Bible. "It's about time someone fixed this," he said. "This time

I'll keep it simple."
"Not so fast!" the voice loud, deep and booming startled... him so that he fell off his chair.
Could the Acid be rebounding, he wondered? Or was he, as he had always suspected, the anointed rabbit?

"God, is that you?" Rasputin asked, not sure he wanted an answer either way.
"Not the Easter Bunny," came the response, and Rasputin whose Higher Power was known for being enigmatic as well as having a sense of humor, was glad. Hearing

from God was better than hallucinations coming from what his therapist called his tw...isted inner rabbit.
And he figured so long as God was not communicating via lightning bolts or heart attacks he was doing ok.
"Don't take this personally my little lapin, but rewriting the scriptures is not the job I had in mind for you."
Again Rasputin was glad..., the project had been daunting even to his megalomaniacal side and he had been worried about the pressure various special interest

groups would bring to bear.
"However, I agree that Farmville needs a bit of revision. Before I bring forth a new flood, (this time it will be electrons) you will go forth as my emissary.

You will be given visions. Try not to warp them to fit with your own desires." With that there was a slight click as God disconnected, but behind was left an

enormous towering cloud in the exact image of Rasputin brilliant and alone in an otherwise clear sky.

Rasputin considered his ego to be a God given asset. This logic allowed him to feed it steroids and otherwise expand it. It was what allowed him to proclaim

his divine inspiration and mandate. This, in turn, got the attention of a busload of pilgrims who were on their way to a shrine dedicated to Our Lady of

Miraculous Bargains in a discount mall in the country next to Farmville, Shopper City.
Their affection was short lived when the pilgrims discovered Rasputin could not produce the discount coupons they craved. They pummeled him with their shopping

bags, which fortunately were empty and shouted "charlatan" as he fled into a marshy field beside the road.

Having escaped the band of pilgrims Rasputin was standing in a field considering he next move when he heard a diminutive chorus which shouted, "yea" this was

followed by a single voice, "I've got behind the ears." and in a second our hero could truly speak in the plural as he was invaded by a gang of fleas who were

waring little leather vests on which was embroidered the words "Plagues R us"

Rasputin, who knew from bitter experience there was no negotiating with fleas, was preparing to throw himself in a swiftly flowing river in the desperate hope

this infestation had left their water wings at home when the flea who had taken station behind his ears said, "This revolution thing, we've got some

suggestions."
Rasputin, who had never met a flea he hadn't scratched, was disturbed on several accounts, not the least of which was having to share the spoils of victory

with a species that reproduced faster than he could.

Massive doses of anti-histamines kept the itching under control and Rasputin would have slept a lot were it not for the fact that his fleas had choral

ambitions. Their repertoire ranged from Mozart to spirituals. They had a version of Jesus loves me with a verse which made reference to their ancestors who had

lived in His beard. The theological implications of this gave Rasputin a headache.

The congregation of fleas with a direct linage to the sainted flea who had lived in Jesus' beard had a version of the Gospel which had not been included in the

familiar texts. They had, they told Rasputin, decided that they were willing to reveal its secrets and asked Rasputin to get them an agent.
Rasputin, whose experiences with literary agents had consisted almost entirely of rejections, was reluctant to make any promises, but agreed to write query

letters the minute he got to an internet cafe. "Unforutnately," he said, "I've got this invasion of Farmville to orchestrate."

Chapter 4

"You care more about your revolution, than you do about me."
It was their third day together, and Ellen was pissed that Rasputin took
time out from a romantic moment to answer an email on his iphone.
Rasputin had long ago learned he was no good at lying to women, so he didn't even try.

"of course," he replied using his characteristic bluntness, "without the revolution
I'm just another cotton tail and I can't imagine that you would be interested in me
if all I could offer you was an occasional carrot." He stroked her arm,
"After the revolution you will be my Josephine."
Talk like that weakened Ellen's knees and she fell back onto the bed,
"Kiss me, you fuzzy fool."

Rasputin awoke to find himself alone and found Ellen logged into his Ebay account,
busily bidding on musical instruments. He watched as she pushed the buy it now button
and became the new owner of a very used tuba.
After cursing himself for having his passwords auto complete, he asked,
"is there an orchestra i should know about?"

"No," she said, then after a pause, "maybe."
Rasputin had enough experience with women to know he had to wait this one out.
After a moment she continued, "You need a plan and I think this is it."
"A used tuba?"
"No, you silly revolutionary," she took a deep breath and began to sing.

"Seventy-six trombones led the big parade
With a hundred and ten cornets close at hand.
They were followed by rows and rows of the finest virtuo-
Sos, the cream of ev'ry famous band.

...Seventy-six trombones caught the morning sun
With a hundred and ten cornets right behind
There were more than a thousand reeds
Springing up like weeds
There were horns of ev'ry shape and kind.

There were copper bottom tympani in horse platoons
Thundering, thundering all along the way.
Double bell euphoniums and big bassoons,
Each bassoon having it's big, fat say!

There were fifty mounted cannon in the battery
Thundering, thundering louder than before
Clarinets of ev'ry size
And trumpeters who'd improvise
A full octave higher than the score!"

"Do you see?" she asked
"Fifty mounted canon?" Rasputin said. he was no longer focused on the naked woman in the chair.
He was envisioning the victory parade, the arch d'triomph he'd build out of haybales,
the statues....

As all the implications of Ellen's plan sank in, Rasputin could not contain his joy.
He kissed her then the computer monitor, and sang a verse of 76 trombones.
At the edge of his mind he wondered how to claim credit for this brilliant idea,
but he gave it little thought. He would be the one to bring it to fruition.
The revolution disguised as a musical, a musical with a cast of thousands, "we'll hold auditions...

Having come up with the invasion plan which he was sure would lead to a quick conquest of farmville,
Rasputin studied film clips and pondered ways to get recruits.
Ellen was scouring Craigslist for uniforms.

Relaxing beside the pool after a day spent trying to drum up support for his invasion of Farmville,
Rasputin was startled when he heard his name over a loudspeaker. "We know you are in there."
After the third repetition, the one in which they mentioned gas grenades, he made his way
across the manicured lawn to the front gate.

Rasputin was relieved to see the agents with an acronym taking up defensive positions and one of them approached him.
He spread his hands in a helpless gesture, "They say they're from ASCAP and there's a carload for Equity,
but they're hanging back right now."
He looked around then said, "I don't know how long we can hold them off. If they start using teargas
the homeowners association is going to get involved and ..."

Ethel McGuinness, 76 years old, 4 foot 11 - a hundred pounds on a day with heavy gravity and head of the homeowners association, parked her 1983 Buick blocking the gate to the estate and slowly got out of her car.
This woman, who probably could have won the war in Afghanistan, if only the Marines had not turned down her application, faced the union agitators and pointed down the street with her finger, "be gone,"she said. the man from ascap lowered his bull horn, and stared at her for a long moment. This man who had dealt with bouncers with Sicilian pedigrees, who had once yanked a jukebox out of a biker bar, and who had not been turned down by t...he marines, knew he was out gunned. He nodded to his compatriots and with in two minutes they were driving down the street in the direction Ethel had indicted.
Next, she turned to the gate, "What's this all about?" she demanded.

She brushed off the homeland security excuse and focused on Rasputin. "I believe we have a clause about renting to rodents."
Rasputin drew himself up so he was almost as big as she was and said, "I beg your pardon - I am certainly not a rodent." After a moment of staring into her eyes he continued. "I am here only temporarily while I plot the ovethrow of Farmville and then Facebook."
Ethel opened her arms, "Why didn't you say so? Facebook is evil . My daughter, she was contacted by this no good idiot from her past and ran off with him. What can i do to help?"



"I never knew Facebook had so many enemies," Rasputin said as he plowed through the emails which had accumulated overnight. One, from a Pastor in Kansas, was so intense Rasputin kept checking to make sure his monitor didn't start smoking. The man who claimed to be the head of a Luddite Baptist congregation claimed a divine insight into how to bring the electronic devil to its knees.
Ellen was a little suspicions, "What is a Luddite Baptist doing using email? This could be a pink herring."
"Yeah, " agreed Rasputin as he pressed the delete button, an act he was to rue later, "Those off-color fish can really stink up a revolution."


Rasputin hated it when a conversation began with, "You know what your problem is?"? He really hated it when they were right and though it was not in his nature to admit it, it was quite possible that this woman had found a a chink in his armadillo.
The armadillo was worried too, having trained to be the first wave of the invasion he knew the success of the whole operation depended on his scales.

"Your problem is that you are a rabbit."
Those were, to Rasputin's mind, fighting words, but the idea of tangling with the toughest little old lady he'd ever met reminded him of his limitations, after all he was a rabbit.
"What do you propose I do about it?" he asked through clenched incisors.
"My son in law is a surgeon, he did wonders... with Margaret Clemments."

"Normally I don't do rabbits," the surgeon began as he ran his eyes over Rasputin. "But you've met my mother in law and..."
"I like being a rabbit. And whatever you do - don't touch the nose. All the girls say it's one of my cutest features.... And cute and cuddly is what works for me."
"I wouldn't think of touching your nose, and quite frankly, my specialty is re-perking middle aged breasts... I might be able to do something with your ears though, the question is, reduction or enhancement?"

The plastic surgeon fed a photograph of Rasputin into his computer. They immediately saw that ear-reduction would make it possible for Rasputin to wear hats, but would probably provide the reason he would want to wear them in the first place. The enhancement adjustment was designed for breasts, so the ears came out... looking like kielbasas.
"Look doc, I'm trying to become emperor of Farmville, not a porn star."

The surgeon got defensive, "You can not underestimate the importance your appearance has on your life. The world is full of ordinary people and, for the most part, they are forced to live ordinary lives."
Rasputin interrupted, "Please spare me the sales pitch. I am, at the risk of denting my humility, poised for greatness, a few ounces of silicone are not the key."
Rasputin thought of saying more, about how the world was full of plasticized bimbos leading plastic lives, but he knew such words would definitely burn this bridge. He was something of an expert, having burned suspension, bascule, fixed sp...an, and even a covered bridge in his day, and he knew he might need this man's skills if his plot were to fail and he needed to change his appearance while on the run. So, for once, he kept his mouth shut and escaped the doctor's office with nary a botox injection.

Having escaped the scalpels of cosmetic surgery, Rasputin became determined not to get distracted again. He watched the Music Man several times, and made the bold decision to go with blue uniforms for the band. Red reminded him of hunting season, and he could get a good price on what was described as a lightly used set of uniforms in blue.

When he returned to the compound Rasputin found the agents without acronyms moving with a brisk purposefulness as they packed their weapons and erased all evidence of their being there which consisted of taking down the calendar which depicted automatic weapons from around the world." Whats going on, " he asked?

"Azure alert - there is a new threat to the nation."
He waited a second and the agent continued "Invasive plants, we've decided that they can be a component in your project."
Rasputin's first instinct was to say that nobody tells me how to ...run my revolution, but the term invasive plants had a nice ring to it.
"Tell me more."
The man lifted a box and said, "We'll brief you on the flight. I'll give you a hint, there is loosestrife aka Lythrum salicaria in your future."

"Plants? I've got a truckload of brass instruments headed this way. What about David and his glockenspiel?"
Before Rasputin could continue his rant one of the agents used up his monthly allotment of smiles and said, "relax little fella, your band is safe. In fact, if it works in Farmville they're talking about tryin...g it out as a new way of protecting the Mexican border, might have to learn some new tunes though."

Rasputin swallowed his next words, if Homeland Security had decided his plan had merit, then he'd be able get funding for the giant float, the one shaped like a giant endive, in which his commandos would hide. He planned to have it break...down near the headquarters of the current government in Farmville and then late at night the Trojan Salad would strike. This was an idea that he could not really claim as original though it was time tested - and he suspected it would work other places too. maybe in Afghanistan. If he could get the contract for that...