Part 1 is here. To recap: Detective Bryan is reeling from the death of his wife and unborn son and the collapse of his friendship with his best friend, the black commissioner. He’s also beginning to unravel a quasi-global conspiracy involving Today Show Host Matt Lauer and the mayor of his city. There’s also something going on with a mysterious boat.
“Wait, who is the mayor again?”
“Why it’s none other than socially conscious rapper Talib Kweli.”
“The real-life rapper?”
“No, this guy just has the same name. Different people. None of these people are the same as their real-life counterparts. This is a work of fiction and similarities to real-life people are purely coincidental.”
“Good, cause Ron Howard is a fucking asshole.”
Not my boat, Bryan thought. What could it mean? Only one way to find out. Bryan went to the docks. He remembered reading on Altavista that before Amy got pregnant with Bryan’s baby boy Dexter she had bought a boat and docked it at the Santa Marinara Marina. Could it be there?
Bryan walked to the docks. It was night out, the sky was as black as Bryan’s heart ever since he lost his darling Amy and his baby boy Dexter, with whom Amy was pregnant with.
Bryan looked up into the sky, pointed at the moon, and growled, “One day I’m going to blow you up.”
He walked down to lot 3K where Amy used to dock her boat, before she died, Bryan thought, along with my baby boy Dexter, with whom Amy was pregnant.
Bryan walked around the stern of the boat and looked for any sign of struggle or malfeasance. He didn’t see any of them. Everything seemed more or less as it was. As Amy left it.
Suddenly out of the corner of Bryan’s eye he saw the unmistakable glint of Talib Kweli and Mos Def’s 1998 collaboration Black Star on CD. Bryan was shocked. Suddenly it all made sense.
It wasn’t a gambling ring after all. It was far worse than that. Human trafficking, racketeering, jaywalking, the whole nine yards. Whatever there was to be done they were doing it. And Amy found out. She found out about everything. The money, the cocaine, the ghost at the bottom of the well, the death of Buddy Holly, the invention of Bifocals, and their greatest lie, Benjamin Franklin. And she left this copy of Black Star to let me know. It all made sense.
“Thanks Baby,” Bryan said as he kissed two fingers he had made into a peace sign and held them up to God.
Bryan was too late. The black commissioner was dead. They had gotten to him first. Just like they had gotten to Amy, just like they had gotten to his baby boy Dexter, with whom Amy was Pregnant. They’d even taken the black commissioner’s MacBook Pro with Retina Display which, coincidentally, had the only evidence left to exonerate Bryan for the crimes of the mayor, for which Bryan had been falsely arrested of, in a conspiracy between the mayor’s office and Today Show Host Matt Lauer (not the real person) who, by the way, was an active member of the Illuminati and MENSA, even though neither had any active participation in this current plot.
Bryan lounged on his recliner. He was reading a book when his turtle, Rupert, waddled up.
“Hey Rupert,” said Bryan, “You’re my best friend.”
Rupert craned his head, as if to say, “You’re my best friend too Bryan.”
“I’ve gotta solve this case,” sighed Bryan, “Do you want to watch Frasier after this is all over?”
Rupert shrugged, as if to say, “Well I have to get stamps, but after that, yeah, let’s watch Frasier.”
“Sure thing best friend.”
“You’re a sexist pig,” the new female character, Susan Anthony, said to Bryan while he dunked a basketball.
“Honey, men invented the cotton gin. You complain about the patriarchy all the time but look where it’s got us. Macbooks. iPhones. Apple Earpods. We’re living in the future, sugar, and men made it.”
Bryan pointed out the window to a bridge and screamed, “You didn’t build that.”
“What you call feminism, I call man-hating,” Bryan added, telling it like it is.
Susan didn’t respond, but merely applauded, having had her entire view completely changed. She would later thank this kind, strong man for showing her the light. Secretly, she had always been waiting for a strong man to just tell her the truth.
Bryan pulled out his police-issued Colt Pistol thingy and said: “Come out with your hands up!”
Socially Conscious Rapper Talib Kweli responded with a laugh and screeched: “So you have me cornered Mantis. What now? You have no evidence. Nothing to tie me to the case, just suspicions. How would it look-a suspended cop bringing in the Mayor and mastermind behind 1998 LP Black Star? Don’t be ridiculous. Do you really expect me to come with you?”
“I don’t expect you to come.”
The world went silent, just like Black Star after they released their first LP.
“I expect you to die.”
Bryan fired his gun twice. Once for Amy, and once for his baby boy Dexter, with whom Amy was pregnant with.
“You can’t leave! I love you. You’re my world. I learned so much from you,” Susan begged of Bryan.
“Shut your mouth. There’s nothing left for me here. Everyone I’ve ever loved has died and if I stick around you’ll die too.”
“You can’t leave Bryan! I’m pregnant.”
“Flush it out. Bryan is dead. He’s up in the sky with his baby boy Dexter and his darling wife Amy.”
“If Bryan is dead who are you?”
“Call me…. Mantis.”
Someone vaguely European walked out of an international business conference in Frankfurt. He took out his Apple EarPods and smiled a mischievous grin. His cropped blonde hair and white sunglasses nearly covered his heart of darkness. He walked to his favorite European coffee shop and ordered a quad Americano; no cream, no snakes. There was something mysterious about this man. He seemed to be waiting for something.
His phone rang. There was something familiar about his ringtone. As if it was from a 1998 LP featuring Mos Def and another rapper.
He answered it in a dark voice.
“Hello? Is it done?”
The voice on the line responded. The Europeans smile creased and he said:
“And he has no idea? He thought it was the real Kweli?”
The voice said something, causing the European to laugh.
“He didn’t find the jewels? He thinks it’s just human trafficking? He thinks it’s over?”
At this point the European broke out in convulsive laughter.
“Oh my. This hasn’t even begun.”
The voice on the phone started to laugh as well.
The European finished, “Thank you Mr. UN Chairman, that’s all the information I need. Begin plan Omega.”
It is begun.