The Israel Bond Omnibus (36 page)
Read The Israel Bond Omnibus Online
Authors: Sol Weinstein
“You can’t envision what it was like for me in those formative years with a tyrant for a father. Ah, phooey!” (He was Donald Duck, now, quacking irately at his rotten lot in life.) “And, thufferin’ thuccotash, thir (now he was an equally incensed Daffy Duck), from the very beginning every time I’d try to thpeak normally, that thtupid father of mine would dig his thumbth into my cheekth until my mouth ached. Thoon I wath afraid to even try thpeaking like a normal perthon. And e-e-e-e-ven wh-wh-wh-en he d-d-d-died (Porky Pig had taken over the narrative at this point) I was so used to speaking like this, mousketeers (Porky passed the ball to Mickey), that I continued on this way. I was ashamed to tell people I couldn’t speak like they could and afraid they’d laugh at me when I spoke the only way I could. Kinda awful, huh, Pluto?”
“Why did you become an assassin, LaBonza?” No harm showing a little sympathy to this strangest of human beings.
“Oooh, I thawt I taw a puttycat.” (It was Tweety Bird’s turn.) “Why? ‘Tause I hated my daddy ’tause he made my wife weal miserable. I wanted wevenge on a wotten world. I wanted to—hah! hah!—kill wots of wittle gway wabbits—I hate wittle gway wabbits —and kill even more people.” (Elmer Fudd muscled in.) “But, son, why are yuh—ah say, why are yuh askin’ me all these dadburned fool questions? You-all ain’t tryin’ ter put somethin’ over on old Torquemada, is yuh? Ah say, is yuh?” (Leghorn had picked up the ball.)
“Certainly not, LaBonza. It’s just that your story is so fantastic I want to hear all of it. Why the golden teeth and gums?”
“Jiminy Cricket! (Bond had no trouble identifying this one) I’m your conscience, Torquemada, so I’ll answer the gentleman’s question. It’s ’cause your father squeezed your cheeks so often your teeth softened and fell out. And, honest, Pinoke, so did your gums. So when you killed your first man you had the whole business done in gold so’s you’d be sumpin’ special, huh? Watch out, Pinoke, the Blue Fairy’s back!”
“Well, LaBonza, whoever put in that golden mouth of yours cheated you, buddy boy.”
“Ah,
mon ami,
if you are making ze fun of Pepé Le Pew, I keel you
très
slow and easy, a bullet in ze leg, ze hand, ze rib, ze elbow, ze ankle.”
Bond smiled nonchalantly. “Why should I make fun? I’m a damn serious guy when I face death, LaBonza. Now, look for yourself. Here’s a mirror. If you look very closely you’ll see you got the cheapest kind of gold. Maybe it isn’t even gold. Maybe it’s pyrite—fool’s gold. See for yourself.”
LaBonza grabbed the mirror. He turned it around and held it toward him, opening his mouth wide.
Bond tensed. If he had figured it out right he had one last chance.
As LaBonza’s mouth opened wide the sun flashed against the generous golden expanse, the flash ricocheting off the mirror into LaBonza’s eyes. He was blinded for one significant second.
Bond hit him low and hard, the impact with the man’s knees sending pangs through his sore shoulders. LaBonza was hurled back, back... and over the wall. His hands clawed for a grip on a root, lost it and he fell into space. Bond heard screaming oinks, quacks, tweets, adieus... then heard them no more as the black dot bounced off a ledge and plunged to the bottom of Mount Maidenhead.
“Adieu, yourself, Torquemada LaBonza,” whispered Israel Bond to the valley below. “You could have made the big ‘hit’ of your career if you’d finished me off. But you gummed it up!”
And now it really
is
over, he knew. This odyssey that started on warm friendly beaches,
segued
to the chill of a Moscow night and climaxed on a jungle mountain top.
Yet, he pondered, could any of it have been real? It had been an adventure peopled by a conglomeration of characters only to be found in the marred convolutions of a psychotic writer’s mind.
[20]
Had any of these menaces been more than cartoons? Any of them? Svetlova with the gash of a mouth, Dr. Nu, Herbie, IPECAC, Spector, Topjob and, finally, LaBonza, a true product of Disney, Lantz, Terry?
How could he put a fitting finis on this nightmare in keeping with its cartoonish genre?
His gray eyes gleamed, the smile forming as he knew what he
must
say. Somewhere in heaven Zvi Gates, all atremble, waited. Israel Bond said: “Th-th-th-that’s all, f-f-folks!”
ON THE SECRET SERVICE OF HIS MAJESTY, THE QUEEN
Dedications
These include residents of NATO countries unfortunately omitted in the dedications to
Loxfinger
and
Matzohball
. What does it take to merit a mention in these towering novels? The answer is simple: Most of the people cited are not only cheerful, obedient, trustworthy and kind and never leave a national park without spraying their campfire embers with soft Culligan water, but also have gone out of their way to promote sales, thus insuring a better way of life for my fine family.
WILLIAM J. BLITMAN and NORMAN “RED” BENSON
In Memoriam.
ELLIE, DAVID (0010) and JUDY (007) WEINSTEIN
My fine family.
JOE E. LEWIS
Who once said, “Behind every beautiful woman is a beautiful behind.”
If the Pickled Plato is performing in your town, don’t miss him.
WILLIAM B. WILLIAMS
Of WNEW, New York. To the trade: Velvet Baze Velvel.
MERV GRIFFIN
Who gave me my first break on national TV. Merv, I still insist that within my Walter Slezak-type body is a Sinatra-type voice. Dare you ignore the commercial possibility of launching a Singing Spy?
NORMAN SHAVIN
Of the Atlanta Constitution; a geeter, a finer.
GODFREY CAMBRIDGE
Who, if the Bond film people ever decide to do Live and Let Die, is the logical choice for Mr. Big.
MAI ZETTERLING and SUSANNAH YORK
Who have been my constant companions in recent fantasies— mine, unfortunately. Ladies, do with me what you will.
JULIE CHRISTIE
Take what’s left.
TEX McCRARY
EARL WILSON
FRANK BOWERS
LEE J. MALTENFORT
Of
Bestsellers
.
JERRY AGEL
Of Books.
JACKIE FARRELL
Of the New York Yankees.
LEONARD KATZ
Of the New York
Post
.
FRANK FARRELL
WALTER WINCHELL
RON AXE & MIKE ROSENFELD
No female singer has the right to complain about the lack of good material if she has failed to record “Mirror,” lyrics by Axe, music by Rosenfeld. It may be found in Vicki Carr’s
Discovery 2
LP.
LAURA LANE
A splendid song stylist.
THE NESHAMINY “N” CLUB
Of Bucks County, Pa.
ED JOYCE
Of “Expertise,” WCBS, New York.
WALT CANTER
Writer and mensch.
JIM HARPER
Of WINZ, Miami, owner of one of the world’s greatest picture names. (“Jim Harper, I can’t ask you to go up against those rock ‘em, sock ‘em Cornhuskers with a knee like that. So we’ll lose the twenty-third annual Okra Bowl; better that than crippling a fine young boy forever.” Jim Harper flashed his pain-tinged smile and with the aid of a pneumatic drill the freckle-faced kid from Glenville began to chip the cast from his leg. “Can’t let the guys down now, Coach O’Brien. Tell ‘em to keep feeding me on good ol’ K-34 off left tackle. I’m gonna pack that pigskin across those chalk lines until....”)
RAY HASSON and LIZ TROTTA
Of NBC News.
DIZZY GILLESPIE
John, there’s still time to record an album of my modern jazz pieces. Don’t snicker; you didn’t think I could produce top-flight thrillers, either.
GEORGE SPOTA
Of the Martin Goodman Agency, New York; with gratitude.
JOHN CALLEY
Of Filmways and the 99¢ Royal Roost. Peewee Marquette, we never forgot you.
OSSIE DAVIS and RUBY DEE
Two elegant pros.
FLORENCE FRIEDMAN
Of Meyers Stationery & Book Store, Fairless Hills, Pa. Sell,
maideleh
. sell....
REGINA PRIOR
Secretary Emeritus to Johnny Carson.
CLARENCE PETERSEN
Of the Chicago
Tribune
, who looked into the heart of a weary traveler and found cholesterol.
SOL IMMERMAN and BARBARA HUNTLEY
Artistic geniuses of Pocket Books.
BERNIE GROSS and MAX HUDES
Of the Carnegie Delicatessen, New York.
HARRY and JOHN HOLLAND
REGIS PHILBIN
Nobody should look that wholesome.
BUDDY GOLDBERG
Manager of the Jay Leader Insurance Team of the Levittown, Pa., Western Little League, and his charges.
JESS CAIN
Of WHDH, Boston, an explosively funny, deeply disturbed young man.
ARNOLD BIEGEN
Of Booth, Lipton & Lipton, New York.
MELVIN L. KARTZMER
President, First Florida Consultants, Inc.
TEDDI KING and DAVID ALLEN
Fine pop singers.
JAMES J. SHAPIRO
Of Simplicity Patterns.
B. J. HARRIS
President of WQXT, Palm Beach, the “lebedicker from Louisville,” and his PAULA, ALAN JON, PAMELA JOY and PEPPIE JAYNE.
LEON BROWN
Of the Philadelphia
Jewish Times
.
NEAL HEFTI
Who, by his gorgeous reworking of blues, “Girl Talk,” deserves the chance to do the arrangements of my jazz pieces for an LP.
JACK McKINNEY
Of WCAU, Philadelphia; seeker of truth.
SGT. NEIL ROBINSON