ht 3.109 wi. 6.

510
get disappointed.
It�s time for a trip to Home Depot to purchase
three pieces of genuine marble floor tiles; twelve
by twelve inches square.
Afterwards, I walk next door to Service
Merchandise and purchase three steam-emitting
clothes irons.
Now, you�re probably wondering, what the
hell am I going to do with these items? Well,
hang tight.
A quick trip to Publix grocery store nets me a
pound of Columbian coffee and more spray
starch. Speeding home, I�m barely able to
contain my excitement in hopes that this new
idea works just as I envision.
? ? ? ?
Alexia greets me at the door when she hears
my truck pull up in the driveway. �Hi, babe.
Whatcha got there?�
She�s smiling for some unknown reason. It�s
a smile that just won�t go away. I find out the
reason in the next few minutes. She literally
drags me into the bedroom for an afternoon of
wild sex. She does a striptease act, revealing to
me her bikini-model body.
I watch with intense enthusiasm. I can�t
enjoy it fully as much as I�d like to, though,
because my thoughts are lost on my new idea
for ageing the counterfeit.
However, as she touches me with her warm
soft body, pressing her perfectly shaped breasts
against my face, I slowly wrap my arms around
her waist; then move my hands slowly down the
subtle curves of her tiny butt. It�s firm, yet her
skin is silky soft.
I kiss her entire front side as delicately as she
can stand; then I kiss harder as her moans
become louder, more erotic. I lift her onto the
bed and Zorro realizes he�s about to be crushed
if he doesn�t get the hell out of the way.
Zorro the voyeur Himalayan cat sits on the
rock-bed under the plaster and metal palm tree
as he watches us. We make passionate love for
about an hour. I�m soaked in sweat. I�ve got to
take a shower before I get back to work.
�Thank you, babe,� she says with a glow on
her face and those eyes that could melt polar
ice. �That was very nice.�
�No, thank you!� I�m floating with pleasure still
as I take my goodies from the shopping bags.
I go to the kitchen and remove a nine by
fourteen-inch glass baking dish from the
cupboard and fill it with half a gallon of tap
water. Then I add two tablespoons of the
Columbian coffee.
Next, I spray the entire contents from the two
cans of starch into the mixture. Alexia brings me
a banded bundle of twenties, which I place in
front of me.
Within a few seconds the iron achieves its
maximum heat capacity. I slide a pair of latex
gloves onto my almost-trembling hands.
The counterfeit bill is placed flatly onto the
center of the marble tile�s smooth surface. I
place all my fingers on the bill�s perimeter
edges.
With a light downward pressure I crumple the
bill towards its own center, thus making a small
wad (or ball) of paper half the size of a golf ball.
Now, because this is ordinary paper, it stays
crumpled into this wad. It does not unfold itself
as a genuine bill would. As soon as I have ten
bills wadded-up, I begin to unfold them and
flatten them moderately.
The next step is to dip the wrinkled bills into
the solution, which is now thoroughly mixed in
the glass pan. After ten seconds I remove the
saturated bills. One at a time I place them onto
the marble tile and sweep the hot iron once
across the backside and once across the front.
This method leaves the bill thoroughly dried,
flat again, and somewhat worn looking. The
wrinkles have become permanent. And it�s
because of these wrinkles that it is now very
difficult to detect the absence of raised ink,
which doesn�t exist as it would on a genuine bill.
Just as I expected, the starch seems to
thicken and stiffen the paper. Though stiffening
is an unwanted byproduct of thickening the
twenty-pound paper, I�ll have to live with it for
now.
To take away some of the stiffness: and give
the bill more of a genuine feel, I have to drag the
bill across the sharp edge of my marble slab:
front side as well as the reverse of the bill.
The final phase of my ageing process is also
a discovery through the process of
experimentation. I take a bundle, which has
already been wrinkled, dipped, ironed, and
edge-dragged; then toss them into a very large
clear plastic container with an airtight lid.
But, before I seal its top into place, I sprinkle
two tablespoons of talcum powder inside the
container. While shaking this see-through
processing plant, side-to-side, up-and-down, I
watch as the talcum powder fills the pores of the
paper and dissipates as the paper absorbs
nearly the entire two tablespoons worth. It turns
each bill slightly white.
Next, I take the bills out and remove the
excess powder by means of whacking ten or
twenty of them at a time against my denim pant
legs. This entire process works impeccably.
When blind-feel-testing, Alexia, myself, Joey
and David, we�re all hard-pressed to distinguish
the counterfeits from the genuines. The feel of
the bill is perfect.
And by sight� that�s a winner too!
Now that I�ve discovered the winning
process, I make a mental note of the formula.
Afterwards, I throw out all the oils, lacquers and
other crap that Joey had purchased earlier. I
have no need for them now.
? ? ? ?