This may sound like some kind of crackpot cock-and-bull story, some crazy cockamamie confabulation I just conjured up, some pap-smeared piece of paranoic poppycock, but this morning—as my neighbor’s colossal cock was crowing—a cockeyed hooker from Bangkok (disguised as three peacocks) sweet-squawked her way into my apartment and surreptitiously planted a microscopic listening device on my toilet’s ballcock; and as I was eating my cock-a-leekie soup (which, in case you’re unfamiliar with haute cuisine, is a yummy Scottish dish made with chicken and leeks), a fiendish cockatoo—under orders from the FBI—implanted an infinitesimally tiny microtransmitter on my cochlea (so now the government can transmit messages, via radio signal, directly into my head . . . sometimes somewhat insensitive messages, such as “The Jews didn’t kill Jesus—you did!”), while a vicious cockapoo (a cross between a cocker spaniel and a miniature poodle)—under orders from the CIA, who are so cocksure that I’m a “menacing, malevolent, iconoclastic antiestablishmentarian”—implanted some kind of mood-altering microcomputer on the cockles of my heart (so now the government even controls my deepest feelings); and this evening, while I was sipping a cocktail, a diabolical cockroach—under orders from the LSD (Lesbian Sex Department)—installed a minuscule microprocessor on my coccyx (for reasons that elude me) . . . and at this very moment, on ABC World News, Peter Jennings is reporting: “A young and nubile ABC intern, whose name is Sue Cox—a woman who seems to think she’s the cock of the walk—is inexplicably tearing off all her clothes in a maniacal frenzy, and—wait—she’s just bum-rushed the news desk—ugh” . . . and it soon becomes clear, as the intern wrestles Mr. Jennings to the floor, that he isn’t wearing any pants—and his rather large penis appears to be more than slightly tumescent . . . and now, the intern is screaming, “I swear, in the name of all things pink and moist, that I’ll molest this man, right here and right now, on live TV, in front of millions of viewers, unless some sesquipedalian American writer can use the phonetic sound kok in an inordinately long, insanely convoluted, mock-paranoid sentence twenty-one times—making at least one reference to the ubiquitous Worldwide Communist Gangster Computer God—while only being implicitly vulgar!”
