Entrepreneur

In some small town, west of the Ozarks, two deputies held a prime suspect of Missouri. Deputy Clarence Monroe and Deputy Clyde Buckley. They were young men, but not bright enough to earn themselves a spot in the big leagues of police authority in the backwards state of Missouri. That bar isn’t even particularly high, which should act as a good indication of Buckley and Monroe’s capabilities - or lack thereof. So, naturally, sheer dumb luck nabbed this suspect.

It took them a minute to confirm this was him. They didn’t want to make a false call and waste other officers' time. They had done that on several occasions, and another fuck up would probably land them doing security at another Dave Mathews concert.

“It looks just like him. Description and everything, Clarence.”

“Hmm…ok. Well, I guess I’ll call it in.”

“Now hang on. Maybe we should talk to him. Ya know? We get him to confess about whatever he had done, that’s a promotion! No more security at Dave Mathews shows.”

Monroe sat there for a moment, picking his teeth from the hotdog he just ate. He too hated Dave Mathews Band. Who wouldn’t?

“I don’t see why not. I read online you just repeat what you think they did until they just say they did it. Right?”

“Only one way to find out.”

While both deputies pondered a method of coercing a confession, the suspect remained calm in his cell. He stood, facing the inner wall of his confinement and began introducing himself.

“What’s he doing?” Clarence said.

“I think…he’s practicing introducing himself? Like for a job interview or something.”

He continued to mutter until Buckley showed some authority.

“Hey asshole! What are you doing?”

The man turned around, surprised that people were even watching him. Almost clueless to the circumstance. Half of his head was shaved while the left half had long curly black hair. His mustache was perfectly trimmed. It would take a microscope to find a mustache hair out of place. Gliding along his upper lips, curling around his flushed red cheeks. His teeth were from a dentist advertisement, and his eyes were the brightest blue. He wore a suit that appeared to be self-made. Incredibly tight around the genitals but loose bell bottom fitting. Lime green was the color. And the shirt was from the 1970s or prior. Nothing about his appearance made sense. Then he said his name.

“Hello, my name is Diego Borg.” Borg sounded like “boooorg” and his smile grew larger until he finished his pronunciation.

“Please come. Sit. We talk and you let Diego learn about you nice men. Yes?”

They forcefully turned him around and escorted him into a room for their interrogation.

Now, the reports only gave the description. The hair, the mustache, and the hideous lime green suit. This was the suspect. They had a name, so all they needed was a confession and they could call this in.

“Ok Diego…why don’t you tell me why you were trying to rob the governor’s house?”

“Me?! Diego? No…. I no steal. I am smart businessman. Entrepreneur like Elon Musk! Yes…Like Mr. Musk.”

Clarence and Buckley looked at each other. He had a strange accent. Almost like he was Russian but not quite. The way he said certain things had a twang to it like he was from the south but also overseas at the same time.

“Ok we aren’t playing games here pal! You tell us what the hell was going on and why you were in there!”

“I will explain my…passion! Yes? See, good business is from the heart. Passion. Did you know about this? This is crazy! Inspirational… I tell you, I tell you…Mr. Musk, when he go to college, he make his apartment, into night club! Genuis! So much money!"

Before they could interrupt, Diego continued.

“Anyway, I was born in France. As little boy, I always loved Napoleon Bonaparte. A real man! A hero! Someone who made France really cool. Anyway, I read in Facebook that when they find him, Napoleon, they bring him back. You know, to bury. Then before they bury him, someone stole his penis!”

“His what…”

“His penis!”

“Ok, I think we should call this in.” Buckley said.

“Now hang on here. Let’s see where this is going.”

“Are you serious? About Napoleon’s dick?”

This gave Diego the verbal que to continue in his story.

“Anyway…I think to myself, wow. A penis. What is that? Why? Then I realize…I see the money. I see what Mr. Musk knows! A business plan…how much would people pay for a dead penis? A penis of your lover. A penis of a celebrity! So, I come here, to America to make my dreams come true! To be the Penis Seller.”

Awkward Silence filled the room until Diego spoke again.

“I know. You say, ‘Diego you pretty crazy man. Big dreamer huh!’ But I also know how to be like Mr. Musk. First, always, must be awake at five AM. Then, shower very cold. Cold is good. Makes you strong. In cold shower, I think to myself about the dream. Celebrities, sports figures, actors, all who die. What about their penis? Wouldn’t people want to buy Tom Cruise penis? So, I needed money. Mr. Musk said the best way is if people just give you money. Investment.”

Diego nodded his head while looking back and forth between Clarence and Buckley, who then began to nod in agreement. Almost of their own free will.

“I come here. I find a nice area of people from looking on the Facebook. Ok? See, free marketing. Facebook very free. So, I make profile here. I make friends. I see them online; I look at their sad pictures. Women mostly, and men who lost a man in their life. I think to myself, maybe I say hello? See about them? They agree to be friends and we meet. Now, these people become my investors. I talk to them I say ‘Oh I saw this sad picture. Who is this?’ Then they talk and talk and get sad. And it's sad time yes but, remember. The money. So, I ask them, ‘How was the love making?’ ”

Diego winked at the officers as he made a gesture with his hands that could only be interpreted as a long penis or giant banana.

“They tell me, “Yes Diego oh my god. Soo good. I miss their penis!” I only hear, money, money, money! I tell them, what if I get that penis for you? Would you like to be able to buy that penis? Then they say ‘How?’ and I say ‘With small payment, we get it.’ Now, I make a smarter move like Mr. Musk. I pay lawyer to write agreement for the investor. You, see? This is how you become billionaire.”

The officers were enthralled in this wild explanation of a business plan. But this Diego had a lawyer? Maybe they were in over their heads. Instead of a confession, they were getting an entire company pitch.

“I get the money. I need a little more. Bigger investors you, see? I hear governor has lots of money. I think even bigger like Mr. Musk. I think if I get governor on my side, I get a break from tax, no? So, I go to his house. Very nice house. Good sign of money. I go to knock, but feel the door is open. This to me, from where I am from, means ‘come in.’ So, I did. And I say “Hello! Mr. Governor! It’s me, Diego Borg.” And I don’t hear anything but some music and heavy breathing. So, I go to room, and I see governor.”

Diego smiled and clapped his hands together.

“Friends…I thought I did it. I make it big. I find investor who is rich and supports the penis seller business. The room had three glass jars. I almost cried; I could not believe it! Ever since I was little boy, I thought about Napoleon’s penis. It was in a glass jar, perfect. Every, single thing about it. It made me realize that my dream must come true. And the governor was having a young man do the thing to his mouth.”

Diego pretended to eat a banana…or something else.

“I try to say, ‘Mr. Governor if you like that, wait until you hear about my business.’ He got all mad and said to leave. I go but I know, never give up. Mr. Musk says to be rich you must work all the time. Very hard.”

Diego adjusted his blazer and reached his hand out to shake the officer’s hands.

“I see two smart guys here. Two guys who want to be big rich, yes? Tell you this, you give me forty dollars now, in two years, worth two hundred thousand dollars. I come here to America with dream, I have now over three hundred thousand dollars. Four months! Can you believe? In year I will be millionaire. You can too. So, what you say?”

The officers were convinced that this investment would pay off big.

“How can we be sure about this?”

“Smart man! Well, these forty dollars, gives you percentage of company. Like stock. You become stock guys. Very rich.”

“Sounds like a deal to me.” Clarence didn’t hesitate and Barkley forgot what they were even doing talking to this man. He just heard two hundred thousand dollars and forgot all sense of priorities.

Diego Borg managed to call an Uber. He began introducing himself to the driver as he got in the passenger seat. Barkley and Clarence were now investors. Owners of their very own “Cock Stock.”