THE ABRIGDED VERSION OF THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JAJA BEBE, PART II: HOW IT ALL BEGAN* (1920-1933)
When the 18th Amendment was put into effect in 1920, starting Prohibition, there was great commontion among the commoners and uncommoners of the US. Many screamed, other held their mouths wide open in shock until they passed out from forgetting to breathe. I myself died from the shock. Some were convinced that either the world was about to end, or that it was about to begin. Some finished their wills, finally making a decision on if the majority of their wealth should go to the children of their first ten wives, or their second ten, which they had been putting off since before they were born. But almost immediately people decided to make their own whiskey and ale. For most people, the 18th Amendment caused them to break the law, but it caused me to break the law in a more "productive" way. I became an alcohol smuggler.
My first attempt to smuggle drugs was on March 4, 1920, and I did it alone, except for my pet hyrax, which entertained me during the mission. It went extremely well for my first time, and if had screwed up, or even gone only moderately well, I might not be a drug smuggler today, and then I would not be a raving fanatic either. Here's how it went: I drove to Canada, getting 37 speeding tickets as I went, and then purchased ten bottles of Southampton's Ale. Then I returned to the U.S. There was no one checking your baggage back then, so I was confident I would have made it. Unfortunately, I was still somehow caught by a policeman. I bribed the policeman into not turning me in, promising I would return the bottles. I managed to drink a few sips of beer before I returned the bottles, though. As you can see, my first ploy went extremlely "well", and it would only get "better" in the future.
Excited by my success, I decided to seek out a team of alcohol smugglers that I could join. Quite soon (after just over a year, in 1921), I found it: a team of about 100 people called "Smugglegogs Anonymous". I asked them if I could join, but they said that I was too unstable and unpredicable to join, and besides, I would only be a hindrance to them. Eventually I pestered them until they let me join, but they still game me the lowest rank possible (professional footwarmer). But slowly, I made it up through the ranks, by a combination of bribery, threatening, and making up stories of how I killed eight wild boars in one day, and by 1924, I was the second-in-command of Smugglegogs Anonymous. The leader, Smark Wartz, hated and despised me, but just before he fired me, he realized that the majority of the members of Smugglegogs Anonymous were completely loony, and left immediately so that he could escape with his sanity. Then I became the new leader. The first thing I did was fire the few people that seemed halfway sensible, and made a new motto, "ick vartpah karrzz" which shows that our team does not mean anything, just like the motto. Last, I changed our name to "the Smugglish team".
In 1925, a man wearing ragged toothpaste tubes and with a fake moustache and beard asked to join us, and immediately I knew he was special. For one thing, he was at least as crazy as me. For another thing, he was mysterious. He said that his name was Angus, and he would give no last name or any information about himself. I immediately let him join, and he became my left-hand man (I already had a right-hand man, who was Norse Callsworthy, the father of Beige Callsworthy). As the years went by, I only found one thing about him, which was that he worked in a used bookstore store north of Elsewhere, the next Great City, where they sold used bookstores. He never told me how old he was, though I guessed that he must be in his seventies. He still works for the Smugglish Team, and he still looks the same age.
As the years went by, the Smugglish Team grew, expanding to 200 people. In 1933, when Prohibition was repealed, I declared the the Smugglish Team had achieved its purpose, and I was disbanded for "confidential reasons". Now that I could have whiskey legally, I went back to my usual routine of drinking 800 bottles a day.
*Wait a minute, there's no reason for me to add a footnote here. Bye.
When the 18th Amendment was put into effect in 1920, starting Prohibition, there was great commontion among the commoners and uncommoners of the US. Many screamed, other held their mouths wide open in shock until they passed out from forgetting to breathe. I myself died from the shock. Some were convinced that either the world was about to end, or that it was about to begin. Some finished their wills, finally making a decision on if the majority of their wealth should go to the children of their first ten wives, or their second ten, which they had been putting off since before they were born. But almost immediately people decided to make their own whiskey and ale. For most people, the 18th Amendment caused them to break the law, but it caused me to break the law in a more "productive" way. I became an alcohol smuggler.
My first attempt to smuggle drugs was on March 4, 1920, and I did it alone, except for my pet hyrax, which entertained me during the mission. It went extremely well for my first time, and if had screwed up, or even gone only moderately well, I might not be a drug smuggler today, and then I would not be a raving fanatic either. Here's how it went: I drove to Canada, getting 37 speeding tickets as I went, and then purchased ten bottles of Southampton's Ale. Then I returned to the U.S. There was no one checking your baggage back then, so I was confident I would have made it. Unfortunately, I was still somehow caught by a policeman. I bribed the policeman into not turning me in, promising I would return the bottles. I managed to drink a few sips of beer before I returned the bottles, though. As you can see, my first ploy went extremlely "well", and it would only get "better" in the future.
Excited by my success, I decided to seek out a team of alcohol smugglers that I could join. Quite soon (after just over a year, in 1921), I found it: a team of about 100 people called "Smugglegogs Anonymous". I asked them if I could join, but they said that I was too unstable and unpredicable to join, and besides, I would only be a hindrance to them. Eventually I pestered them until they let me join, but they still game me the lowest rank possible (professional footwarmer). But slowly, I made it up through the ranks, by a combination of bribery, threatening, and making up stories of how I killed eight wild boars in one day, and by 1924, I was the second-in-command of Smugglegogs Anonymous. The leader, Smark Wartz, hated and despised me, but just before he fired me, he realized that the majority of the members of Smugglegogs Anonymous were completely loony, and left immediately so that he could escape with his sanity. Then I became the new leader. The first thing I did was fire the few people that seemed halfway sensible, and made a new motto, "ick vartpah karrzz" which shows that our team does not mean anything, just like the motto. Last, I changed our name to "the Smugglish team".
In 1925, a man wearing ragged toothpaste tubes and with a fake moustache and beard asked to join us, and immediately I knew he was special. For one thing, he was at least as crazy as me. For another thing, he was mysterious. He said that his name was Angus, and he would give no last name or any information about himself. I immediately let him join, and he became my left-hand man (I already had a right-hand man, who was Norse Callsworthy, the father of Beige Callsworthy). As the years went by, I only found one thing about him, which was that he worked in a used bookstore store north of Elsewhere, the next Great City, where they sold used bookstores. He never told me how old he was, though I guessed that he must be in his seventies. He still works for the Smugglish Team, and he still looks the same age.
As the years went by, the Smugglish Team grew, expanding to 200 people. In 1933, when Prohibition was repealed, I declared the the Smugglish Team had achieved its purpose, and I was disbanded for "confidential reasons". Now that I could have whiskey legally, I went back to my usual routine of drinking 800 bottles a day.
*Wait a minute, there's no reason for me to add a footnote here. Bye.
posted by Jaja at 2:19 PM
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