Culture War by Walter Knight Page B

lit a cigar and blew smoke across the
desk.
    “ You certainly are not
Italian,” commented the spider commander.
    “ It warms my heart to see
us spiders and the human pestilence able to work together in such
harmony,” added the commander’s military intelligence officer. “Do
you shine his shoes, too?”
    “ Would you like some sweet
tea?” asked the spider commander. “It’s a hot day out, and you came
so far to see me.”
    “ Maybe later,” said Juardo.
“We’re here to talk business. I want to put a hundred slot machines
in the lobby of the Marriott Hotel. The manager has already agreed,
but he said I would need your blessing.”
    “ Denied,” said the spider
commander. “The governor wants casino gambling scaled back because
you human pestilence suck too much money from our communities. You
are a negative influence and a menace to society.”
    “ I will pay you two percent
of all slot profits,” offered Juardo. “You don’t have to do
anything except kick back and get paid.”
    “ I said no,” repeated the
spider commander. “There is no casino gambling allowed anywhere in
the Arthropodan Sector of the New Gobi Desert. The governor will
not allow it.”
    “ This offer comes with
protection,” explained The Nose. “Without protection, things
happen. Bad things, even to marine commanders.”
    “ I see,” said the spider
commander. “A hundred slot machines is a lot of slots. You have
that many?”
    “ I am part owner of the
Riverfront Casino Hotel & Resort in New Memphis,” said Juardo.
“I will fly in the machines from there. They can be operational by
tonight.”
    “ Get off my desk!” ordered
the spider commander, now irritated. Eight Legs Roman jumped up.
“If you don’t put that cigar out, I’ll have you shot!”
    “ You had better be more
respectful,” warned The Nose. “Do you know who you are talking
to?”
    “ The first thing you did
upon entering my office was to make threats,” said the spider
commander. “If you knew anything about Arthropodan culture, you
would already know that was a big mistake.”
    “ He apologizes for his
rudeness and any misunderstandings,” said Tony the Claw. “This
human pestilence is new and merely trying to make an
impression.”
    “ I’ll speak for myself,
spider breath,” said The Nose. “We made you a fair offer, and you
had better accept it, or you will have health issues. We don’t need
you. This visit is just a courtesy. You’re just a two-bit tinhorn
want-to-be desert despot. So, don’t be getting all uppity on
us.”
    The spider commander drew his pistol and shot
The Nose in the nose, killing him instantly. It was messy.
Arthropodan marines burst into the office, pointing assault rifles
at the gangsters.
    “ You Mafia thugs are all
under arrest,” announced the spider commander. “I have little
tolerance for your ilk. Be glad I didn’t have you all summarily
executed.”
    “ Sir, we are but
respectable businessmen,” argued Juardo. “I am a member of the New
Memphis Chamber of Commerce and the Rotary Club. Can’t we work out
some kind of arrangement?”
    “ At present you have
nothing I want,” replied the spider commander. “Until that changes,
you will rot in a dank, dark dungeon.”
    “ I’ll tell you what I do
have,” said Juardo, reaching inside his vest pocket and removing a
letter. “I have a message from your governor.”
    The spider commander read the letter, which
said, ‘Please cooperate with my friend, Saviano Juardo, and his
associates in our effort to create an economic prosperity zone in
New Gobi City. Together we can guide an already robust economy to
new heights. Sincerely, Arthropodan Governor of the North
Territory.’
    “ Now, are we all on the
same page?” asked Juardo.
    “ This says nothing about
allowing you to take over the Marriott Hotel and operate casinos in
New Gobi.”
    “ The governor can’t put
that in writing or risk being recorded,” explained Juardo. “But
when you