Light Within You, which had been hurried into print while the action at the prison was still fresh in the public's mind. At that conference, Charlie also announced that henceforth he would refer to himself as Gabriel Sun, a new name that would commemorate the death of the bandit Charlie Marsh and his rebirth as a bringer of light.
Charlie's autobiography became an instant best-seller. It began in his deprived childhood, detailed the way poverty and abuse had made him a criminal, and explained how his experience with his Inner Light while saving Larry Merritt and Warden Jeffrey Pulliams's belief in him had restored his faith in the goodness of man. Charlie told the attending media representatives how he looked forward to holding seminars in the cities on his book tour so he could help troubled people find their Inner Light. There would be a nominal fee for attendance but, Charlie promised, the benefits to an attendee's personal and spiritual development would far outweigh the price of admission.
The seminars and the concessions that hawked Charlie's book, CDs featuring Charlie's words of wisdom, T-shirts, and other Inner Light paraphernalia produced a river of cash. Charlie had made a living swindling people out of their money, and he found a kindred spirit in Mickey Keys. The agent and his new client began sending the cash in the accounts of Inner Light, Inc., to secret bank accounts in Switzerland as quickly as it came in. Mickey, who had an accounting background, worked up a second set of books for the IRS, and Charlie and Mickey's real financial picture looked very healthy even as it appeared to be anemic in their ledgers.
Charlie held his seminars at each stop on his book tour. They were attended by members of the middle class who longed to be wealthy and successful, and people with wealth who were troubled by their success. If the opportunity presented itself, he would fuck any rich woman who wished to purge her guilt by servicing an all-wise and dangerous ex-con. On occasion, he would have sex with one of the less well off groupies who hung around his book signings. That's what he was doing after a very lucrative seminar at Yale University when he was startled in mid-thrust by Mickey Keys's unannounced entry into his hotel bedroom.
What the fuck! Charlie shouted, furious at being interrupted. The coed he'd been banging was as delicious as a peach and as tight as a drum.
Keys ignored Charlie and turned on the television. Watch this.
It better be great.
It's better than great, Charlie. Now, pay attention.
It was night on the screen. Flames could be seen flicking out of a few barred windows, and the spotlight of a police helicopter illuminated the prison grounds and the National Guard and state troopers massed before the high walls.
Why did you need to interrupt the best fuck I've had all year to show me a prison? I' m trying to forget prison.
You'll want to get reacquainted when you hear my idea. This is a shot of the Oregon State Penitentiary. Early this morning, a fight erupted between a Latino gang and members of the Aryan Brotherhood. When guards tried to intervene, several were taken hostage and the fight turned into a full-scale riot.
What's your point? Charlie whined, upset that his boner had begun to wilt.
We' re going to Oregon, where you will offer your services as a negotiator to help end the insurrection at the prison.
Oregon? I don't even know where the fuck that is.
The national press knows where it is. This is the lead story on every network and all the cable news shows.
Mickey, you don't know squat about this kind of shit. The authorities aren't going to let me anywhere near the prison.
Mickey smiled. That's probably true but you'll get tons of free publicity if they do. And if the governor won't let you talk to the rioters, you look like a good guy who's just trying to help. No matter how the riot ends, you come out smelling like a rose and you get tons of free air time.
What about the
Charlie's autobiography became an instant best-seller. It began in his deprived childhood, detailed the way poverty and abuse had made him a criminal, and explained how his experience with his Inner Light while saving Larry Merritt and Warden Jeffrey Pulliams's belief in him had restored his faith in the goodness of man. Charlie told the attending media representatives how he looked forward to holding seminars in the cities on his book tour so he could help troubled people find their Inner Light. There would be a nominal fee for attendance but, Charlie promised, the benefits to an attendee's personal and spiritual development would far outweigh the price of admission.
The seminars and the concessions that hawked Charlie's book, CDs featuring Charlie's words of wisdom, T-shirts, and other Inner Light paraphernalia produced a river of cash. Charlie had made a living swindling people out of their money, and he found a kindred spirit in Mickey Keys. The agent and his new client began sending the cash in the accounts of Inner Light, Inc., to secret bank accounts in Switzerland as quickly as it came in. Mickey, who had an accounting background, worked up a second set of books for the IRS, and Charlie and Mickey's real financial picture looked very healthy even as it appeared to be anemic in their ledgers.
Charlie held his seminars at each stop on his book tour. They were attended by members of the middle class who longed to be wealthy and successful, and people with wealth who were troubled by their success. If the opportunity presented itself, he would fuck any rich woman who wished to purge her guilt by servicing an all-wise and dangerous ex-con. On occasion, he would have sex with one of the less well off groupies who hung around his book signings. That's what he was doing after a very lucrative seminar at Yale University when he was startled in mid-thrust by Mickey Keys's unannounced entry into his hotel bedroom.
What the fuck! Charlie shouted, furious at being interrupted. The coed he'd been banging was as delicious as a peach and as tight as a drum.
Keys ignored Charlie and turned on the television. Watch this.
It better be great.
It's better than great, Charlie. Now, pay attention.
It was night on the screen. Flames could be seen flicking out of a few barred windows, and the spotlight of a police helicopter illuminated the prison grounds and the National Guard and state troopers massed before the high walls.
Why did you need to interrupt the best fuck I've had all year to show me a prison? I' m trying to forget prison.
You'll want to get reacquainted when you hear my idea. This is a shot of the Oregon State Penitentiary. Early this morning, a fight erupted between a Latino gang and members of the Aryan Brotherhood. When guards tried to intervene, several were taken hostage and the fight turned into a full-scale riot.
What's your point? Charlie whined, upset that his boner had begun to wilt.
We' re going to Oregon, where you will offer your services as a negotiator to help end the insurrection at the prison.
Oregon? I don't even know where the fuck that is.
The national press knows where it is. This is the lead story on every network and all the cable news shows.
Mickey, you don't know squat about this kind of shit. The authorities aren't going to let me anywhere near the prison.
Mickey smiled. That's probably true but you'll get tons of free publicity if they do. And if the governor won't let you talk to the rioters, you look like a good guy who's just trying to help. No matter how the riot ends, you come out smelling like a rose and you get tons of free air time.
What about the
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