The words fell on Andrea's ears like rapid-fire raindrops. She was fucking at an incredible rate. All she heard were intoxicating sound patterns, like a hardsell commercial on TV coming over fuzzily at a distance.
The Guru yanked his cock out of her cunt, shoved her legs back up over her head the way you would to change a baby's diaper, and plunged it into her asshole. She wasn't quite ready and for a second she felt like she was taking a huge and uncomfortable shit but she adjusted-helping herself by reaching down with both hands and pressing two fingers hard onto her clit.
"And how about this one, friend Harry? Good old friend Harry, who always got all the chicks and flaunted them in my face? You used to rub their titties when you knew I was looking just to make me jealous! And where are you now? In the fucking Marine Corps! Ya still call me a faggot, dumbbuns? Let's see you go up ta any chick on the street and say, Pardon me, but I'd like ta fuck you up yer pretty little asshole, and get away with it! Look at this, Harry? Don't it make yer Manly Prick green with envy?"
He rolled Andrea over and fucked her ass from behind.
He slipped his cock out of her ass and into her cunt, back and forth, back and forth. She came twice.
Sean was fucking Sissy and watching her eat Mei Ling's pussy. The Guru's words might have been Chinese for all he knew but the din made him feel as if he were fucking in the middle of a battle field. He could smell gunpowder. The smoke was stinging his eyes. The bullets were whizzing around him and death was clutching after him but he was just fucking away laughing at it all.
"Whoooaaaaa!" the Guru screeched, "Its on the way! Its comin from a long way off, but its on the way… " He jumped to his feet and hauled Andrea up and draped her over the back of the couch, banging away at her like there was no tomorrow.
"And all you ignorant creeps put together! You stupid fuckers whining to each other about Enlightenment! Maharanji's the only who who's got the tiniest piece of the truth, and that dumb sonofa bitch doesn't even eat! He knows where I'm at but I've got one up on him because I know where he isn't at, which is inside a pussy with his goddamned cock right now! His peter's probably shriveled up like a fucking prune! Find 'em, feel 'em, fuck 'em and forget 'em! That's my motto! A pussy in every pot! Wheel and deal! A fool and his bunny are soon farted! This one today, that one tomorrow, fake 'em out of their pants, you steal and they borrow!" He flipped Andrea over onto the couch again and dove onto her. His cock found its way into her from the sacred height of three feet with the accuracy of a plumb bob.
"Riches in your britches, space in your head, the only Good God is the one that's Dead! Pants in your aunts and shenanigans-Phooey! My whole act is a lot of Hooey! Yipes! It's getting nearer! Hear that baby? No need to fear 'er!" His loins were pounding away like a jackhammer. His magical rap was carrying everything with him. "Fuck, you fishes in the pond! Fuck, you birdies on the wing! Fuck, you doggies in the pound! Fucking fucks up everything!"
His voice fell to a desperate whispering.
"This is stark raving, this is my craving, to choose and to use and never to lose, to have money that's funny and blabber my lines in a pitcher of honey that charges no fines, to cream 'em and ream 'em and blow 'em away like rain that'll come back on some other day-come back, come back, 'cause they can't stay away-they just gotta do it, they'll never resist, cause I've got the power and I've got the gist and there's nobody home upstairs to be pissed, so the end of the story, the end of the song, is you're all getting fucked by a ding-a-ling's dong!"
Andrea was dizzily cloud-falling in a rainbow-burst of furious storm-wind when the Guru's atomic missile-shot blasted her clear into the eye of the hurricane. Psilocybin mushroom-clouds blossomed in her bosom and tiny tinkling grade-school triangles winked funny noises out of her womb. Holy Hikers tramped the wilderness of Vagina Park carrying garbled messages to the Queen of the Quintessence and scribes scribbled scrumptiously to get them all wrong. Someone delivered a pizza to her shower-head at four-thirty in the morning but the Drano didn't like garlic. There was sumpthing to be done and the pump went to work. Frizzle-frazzle, frizzle-frazzle, clink-clank, think-thank, thunk.
When the humid haze of orgasmic euphoria cleared, every word the Guru had spoken stood wiggling before her flaunting its unmistakable meaning in her heretofore unpresented face. He was a phony and a cynic and as he himself had admitted, Maharanji had been right: the True Enlightenment of this cruise was the tangible enlightenment of the passengers' pocket books.
She was pissed. She was indignant. She was embarrassed because she'd been caught with her pants down, and embarrassed for everybody else who'd been caught the same way.
Baalow Nee was gazing out over the ocean dribbling Rheingold onto his toes when she came to. Sean was lying on the floor in a swamp of semen and cunt-juice. "Perfect," the Guru was saying. "Just what I needed. Never had such a good one. Ho-ho-ho, I'm all set to go back out there and dish up another steaming plate of bullshit to those brainless boobies."
Andrea leapt to her feet. "Oh no you don't. I've figured out what kind of ritual that was. It was the kind you can only have in private-it was a truth ritual!"
The Guru turned with an expression of mild surprise at her accusatory tone. "Of course. Look, do you think silly little Johnny Popper-which is actually my real name-can put on this mystical masquerade perpetually without blowing off some steam? For shit-sake, I'm only human. I think."
"I think you're fucking sub-human. Three million dollars in a Swiss bank account-yachts and limousines and champagne and caviar-and all those people believing that you've got answers to questions that are important to them…"
"Look, Andrea," the Guru said, "calm down. Have a beer." He motioned to Sissy who this time brought a tray of Heinekens and poured the bottles out into crystal glasses. "Why do you think I chose you to do this whole ditty with? Because I need more assistants. Because I'm offering to cut you in. You and your friend here. $50,000 a year to start. What do you say?"
"Baloney!" she screamed. "You're full of baloney!"
Sean did a double-take and the Guru looked like he'd been hit in the head with a rock.
"Baloney! That's what I said! Baalow nee is baloney!"
The Guru shook his head sadly.
Andrea grabbed a beer glass and knocked back a big gulp for emphasis.
Sean sipped slowly. "So that's the secret of your name," he mused.
"Of course. I should've thought it would be obvious to anyone, but to my knowledge you're the first one in the world to figure it out." He drew himself up with some dignity. "Of course I'm full of baloney. But I am also without question the greatest, most profound, and most charismatic religious leader in the world today. If I'm full of baloney, so are all the others. And as I promised, now that you've gained the ability to pronounce my name correctly, you have gained true enlightenment. You've got it in a plain brown delicatessen wrapper. Unfortunately, there is no room aboard the True Enlightenment for those who have already gained true enlightenment… "
"Why you seamy son of a bitch… "
But instead of completing her sentence Andrea fell promptly and deeply asleep, and before Sean could figure out why she'd slumped gracefully to the floor and closed her eyes, he did too.