Chapter 1: Bookend Alpha
Non-Fiction sample...
6:3 Fucking Scientologists
Where were we? Day before the big fight, right? Okay...
I'll admit that some of the details are a little fuzzy but I think that Danny and I had gotten together on what was most likely a Friday. His family had already left town so us two wild and crazy guys hit the big town. As to the events of that night, I can only remember one important aspect: Our run-in with the scientologists.
Anyone who lives in or visits NYC knows that you won't get very far without someone handing you a flyer for something. On that night in particular we were handed a flyer for a free IQ test from some scientologists. Now Danny and I both think that we're smarter than we really are so we expect that having our IQ's tested will be like giving these people an early Christmas. "Come see
the boy geniuses." So we go and give these people their gifts right? Hey, not so fast. Why the fuck are we going to walk into the basement of some Scientologist church? Are you crazy? Sure John Travolta may be a member and we all loved those commercials for L. Ron Hubard's books in the 80's but that won't get me in the basement of one of their churches where they can anally probe me and put sharp things in my brain. Who has ever met a real scientologist anyway? Can they be trusted? Are they licensed to give IQ tests? Do you need a license to give an IQ test?
Who knows? Point is we were cocky and wanted to show our genius to the world but we were also cowards when it came to handing our bodies over to people that aren't scientists but scientologists. So we come up with a plan. We are going to leave a trail for the police to follow in the event of our (un)likely deaths. I couldn't call my mother and tell her where I was going or she'd kill me before the ologists had a chance. So we decided to call Danny's house where we knew no one was home and leave a very detailed message. What I wouldn't pay for a copy of that tape today but I believe it went something like this:
"Hey guys. This is Dan and Alan. It is (whatever) o'clock on (Friday?) night. We are about to enter the Church of Scientology located at (address). We were lured in by the promise of a free IQ test but may be kidnapped for strange testing purposes. If you haven't heard from us all weekend you'll know the reason for our disappearance. If this kidnapping does in fact occur, it will be a full three days before you learn of our whereabouts. We will most likely be dead. Please get these fuckers and put an end to their reign of terror. We loved you all very much. Wish us luck. Bye.
Probably not our best idea but, as we were about to learn, we weren't geniuses like we thought. Actually, that's a bit misleading. We never did take those IQ tests. When we hit the Church of Scientology we found that they wouldn't perform the full IQ test on anyone under 21. They could, however, give us a 10 page questionnaire that, when run through one of their computers (what kind of church has a computer?) would amount to a personality test. Truth be told, I remember them being incredibly accurate for both of us. The test outlined the traits we had and were likely to exhibit over the near future. The test, though accurate, did not warn me that I was less than 24 hours away from losing my virginity in a bathroom to a drug dealer's girlfriend. But there has to a margin of error for shit like that.