No kind of Trooble infatuates anyone
Fondled on August 22, 1999.
Tuesday, another man wearing a fez told me that an Englebee Trooble had once infatuated him. I of course had to kill him, for he was a liar: No kind of Trooble infatuates anyone, let alone a man wearing a fez. I left Egypt then, after being maddened by the existence of their so-called “Old Kingdom,” and headed for Afghanistan. That country, which I knew was in the wrong direction, may have contained some more information about the Englebee Troobles.
“¿Qué es un Englebee Trooble?” someone asked me as I stepped off the yak caravan at the airport, in Afghanistan. This made no sense. An Afghan speaking Spanish? I punched him, then myself, then the lead yak in the caravan, then continued on my way.