Part 1: Welcome to Birubegja!

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“Welcome to Birubegja!” a voice said as Donald Hiram stepped off the boat and onto the dock. Having been lulled almost to sleep by the sound of the water running past the ship’s hull during the journey, such a pronounced voice startled the Public Relations Specialist. He turned and saw the owner of the voice; a man roughly 5’10, of average build and slightly tanned white skin. The man had his arms outstretched and had a smile that looked either as a sincere happy greeting, or an attempt to display his dental work. He was wearing tanned khaki shorts with a white polo shirt and crocs for shoes.

“Uh, thank you…mister…?,” asked Hiram, in a curious and inquisitive manner.

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The man stopped short and looked slightly embarrassed. “Oh, please excuse me, I forgot that we had not yet met face to face. I am Alan Reese, El Presidente of Birubegja. I am very happy to finally have you on our island paradise. I am sure that, with your help, we can put Birubegja on the map, so to speak.”

Hiram offered a slight smile and began to take off his life vest, which covered his entire chest, as well as the pink water wings that Captain of the boat insisted he wear. Upon unzipping the vest, it showed his buttoned up short sleeved shirt and his red necktie.

Suddenly bedlam.

Out of everywhere guards seemed to swarm to his location, with firearms with red tips on them aimed at his person. Two of the guards immediately grabbed him and dragged him in front of El Presidente. Struggling unsuccessfully to free his arms, Hiram cried out, “What is the meaning of this? What did I do? Let me go!”

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Looking shocked, Reese just shook his head. “No, no, this will not do. Did you come to our beautiful island to insult us? Master-at-arms? Bring me the Scissors of Freedom!”

Suddenly horns blared out and a procession of people dressed as parrots filed out of a building decorated with assorted pairs of plastic safety scissors. The leader of the procession, adorned with a bleached white hat with cut marks on them, approached El Presidente with a golden plastic pair of safety scissors laid elegantly on a red velvet pillow.

“El Presidente, I present to you the Scissors of Freedom!”

“Good, good, thank you, Master-at-Arms J.R. Benjamin.,” said El Presidente, smiling. He took the pair of scissors in his hand and approached the still-frightened Hiram. “Now, now, this won’t hurt a bit.”

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Trembling, Hiram closed his eyes and prepared for the worst. Suddenly, he heard a snip, snip and then…nothing. No pain. No meeting his maker, not even seeing former live people that were no longer so. He slowly opened his eyes to reveal the smiling, almost annoyingly smiling, Reese standing before him with the ‘Scissors of Freedom’ in one hand and the entirely lower part of Hiram’s red necktie in the other.

“What in bloody heck did you do?,” cried Hiram, incredulous. “That’s a two hundred dollar tie!”

“My dear Hiram.” answered Reese, smiling as he threw the remains of the necktie back into the boat in which Hiram arrived.

“When anyone arrives on Birubegja, they must sever all ties. Now come…” said El Presidente, putting his arm around Hiram and leading him further down the dock towards shore. “Let me show you around the island and explain your role in our future.”

(Continued in Part 2)

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Published by Alan Reese

Greetings blog wanderers and seekers of truth, or whatever truth appears to be from the mind of a warped individual. You have reached the inner sanctum of some guy named Alan. Having graduated college sometime shortly after the Earth cooled, he finds himself in his late 30's and working out in the real world. His humor is dry and his outlook not so serious and somehow has picked up the nasty habit of writing about himself in the third person. He is married with child and loves his family, sports and, of course, his beloved video games...likelihood of his growing up? Not good. Are you an established site or magazine looking for a writer? Drop me a line if you are interested.

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