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From: George Kranz <5@mail.com>
Subject: Story: Hillary Clinton & Vince Foster (F/necro)
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 The following will be soon up on www.georgekranz.com ...  Go to
there!!!
    And don't forget to read the piece "JonBenet Ramsey Rides Again!!!!
    Please send feedback!

   All the stories are by me, and there is no advertising whatsoever.

www.georgekranz.com www.georgekranz.com www.georgekranz.com
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                   Something Fishy in Little Rock

     Being a hard hitting tough investigative reporter is not all
it's cracked up to be. Sometimes I uncover a story so vile and
revolting that I wish it never crossed my desk. Usually though it's
just such stories that need to be aired as a public service.
     One day last summer I was relaxing in my office, flipping thru
the mail, enjoying a maduro Arturo Fuentes Chateau Fuentes and my
fourth or fifth Old Fitzgerald 100 proof on the rocks, when a timid
knock on the office door caught my attention. Thru the peephole I
observed an enormously overweight fellow dressed in the fashion of
the Hasidim. I welcomed him into my office and bade him to have a
seat. To my surprise he accepted my offer of Old Fitzgerald on the
rocks and drained the glass promptly. He introduced himself as Slim
"Catfish" Jenkins. I challenged him on the veracity of his dress in
view of his name and his thirst for whiskey. He assured me the
dress was just a disguise. He told me it would soon become clear
just why he felt compelled to employ such drastic tactics. He
nervously drew attention to his empty glass which I promptly
refilled and told him to fill me in.
     He claimed to be a private investigator from Little Rock,
Arkansas and to have in his possession a videotape and copies of
documents that he said put his life in danger.
     "From whom ?", I inquired.
     "Friends of Bill.", he replied matter of factly.
     My curiosity aroused, I asked him if it were possible to
summarize the contents. He promised me I'd never believe what he
had to say, but asked me to be patient while he presented his
story.
     Slim settled back in his chair and began rambling. It turned
out that he had a cousin who worked in the Little Rock funeral home
that received Vince Foster's body and that this cousin had seen and
heard a few things quite out of the ordinary. Shortly after the
owner of the funeral home returned from the airport with the casket
this cousin claimed to overhear the Little Rock end of a phone call
from Hillary Clinton herself. He swears he was in the hallway
outside the owner's office when he heard the phone ring and that
the owner soon blurted out "Why yes Mrs. Clinton, how may I be of
service ?" followed by a long silence.
     The next thing this cousin remembers is the owner angrily
saying "If this is some kind of sick joke please get off the line
now before I report you to the authorities." There was another
longish pause followed by "Yes, yes, of course we have a fax
machine. The number's in the phone book. " which in turn was
followed by the receiver being angrily slammed down. On a hunch
this cousin drifted over to the coffee room where the fax machine
resided. He lit a cig and waited.
     In about 3 minutes the machine started to hum. He saw the
cover sheet with the Executive Office seal then the owner came into
the room. "It's for me, probably some crank. I'll handle it." The
cousin left the room. Later that evening, after the owner had left,

this cousin let himself into the owner's office and started rooting
around for the fax. He found the two page transmission under the
calendar pad on the desk. The one page body of the text was a brief
paragraph assuring the owner that Hillary Clinton had in fact
called and that at 8 A.M. the next morning two Secret Service
agents would drop by to communicate special instructions from the
First Lady herself.
     Slim paused here for me to refill his glass. I topped mine
off, lit another Arturo Fuentes, and told him to continue.
     He said his cousin got to work early the next morning and
personally answered the door at 8:05 A.M. His cousin had enough
sense to ask for identification, and showed the two agents into the
owner's office. Apparently the discussion was rather heated. He
remembers the owner crying out several times "This is
preposterous."
     After the agents left he remembers that the owner was visibly
flustered and short tempered. The owner issued instructions that no
one was to be allowed in the embalming room until further notice.
     Again the cousin stayed late after the owner had left. He let
himself into the embalming room and went over to the table where
Vince Foster's body resided. Nothing about the sheet-covered corpse
suggested the horror that was about to unfold. Upon stripping away
the sheet the cousin was stunned to find that Vince Foster had an
enormous erection. Closer examination revealed that a plastic
prothesis had been inserted into a cut made in the side of the
organ.
     The cousin replaced the sheet and went back to the coffee room
to collect his wits. I interrupted Slim here.
     "I suppose you have a copy of the fax transmission ?"
     "Oh yeah", he said, "better than that".
     I tugged at ny eyelids wondering how much whiskey I was
wasting on this jerk, and motioned him to continue.
     The cousin was hit about midnight with inspiration. Recently,
a video recorder had been set up in the viewing room to accommodate
customers that wanted a film record of part or all of the ceremony.
Acting on a wild guess that something was quite wrong in this
affair, the cousin placed a blank tape in the recorder, and set it
to start taping at 4 A.M. He came back to work at 9 the next
morning and noticed the tape still in the camera. Before leaving
for home that day he filched the tape to watch at home.
     "And I suppose you have a copy of this same tape ?", I asked
Slim.
     "You betcha", he said, passing me a tape.
     I went over to my VCR and took out the well worn copy of
"Facial Cumshots, Vol. 7" and popped in Slim's tape.
     I was totally unprepared for what I saw. At about 4:15 A.M.
the owner of the funeral home wheeled in Vince Foster dressed
neatly in suit and tie, resting comfortably in his casket. At 5
A.M. sharp Hillary Clinton enters the room with two Secret Service
agents. Having read of her secret romance with the recently
deceased, I was not surprised that she might want a few moments
alone to mourn out of the glare of the national press. She stood
silently by the coffin for a few minutes then asked the two Secret
Service agents to stand outside. She locked both doors to the room

from the inside and returned to the casket. I could not believe my
eyes when she unzipped Vince Foster's trousers and removed the
(artificially) erect penis. With great care, she hiked her dress
and slip up over her ample hips and climbed into the coffin. She
was not wearing any panties, which I understand is pretty common in
Arkansas. She positioned herself over the member and guided it into
herself with surprising agility. She began a slow up and down grind
that was truly charming to watch, even under these  awfully morbid
circumstances. Her breathing grew more rapid and a crimson blush
soon colored her cheeks. Beads of sweat were now forming on her
brow and her movements became more rapid. At 5:21 A.M. according to
the timer on the tape, she screamed at the top of her lungs, "Go
limp on me NOW you son of a bitch ! "  and then convulsed mightily
and fell face down on the poor corpse. She collected her breath,
gently kissed Vince Foster's cheek and climbed out of the coffin.
After rearranging her skirt she dabbed at her forehead with a
handkerchief and quickly brushed her hair back in place. She walked
calmly to the door where the two agents were waiting and opened it.
One of the agents escorted her out while the second checked the
casket. With only a moderate show of disgust, he placed the penis
back in the trousers and left the room.
     Slim guffawed heavily, and roared "Don't that beat all to
hell ! ".
     I vomited profusely, one half quart of whiskey and a sushi
lunch special decorating my carpet. Is this the truly awful state
that our country has sunk to today ? Have previous presidential
families ever behaved so disgracefully ? Slim "Catfish" Jenkins
sure as hell didn't care. We negotiated a price for my use of his
material and he left with same. I hope he has enough sense to get
rid of the Hasidic disguise before he gets back to Little Rock.
     Meanwhile, our president and First Lady have some serious
explaining to do to this reporter AND the American people. All the
same, I wouldn't be too surprised if an overweight Hasidim were
found floating in an Arkansas lake, along with an empty briefcase.


                                               George Kranz

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