NO

"Mr. Nielson, I you have 1-week to bring all the payments up to date."

"Oh, sure. Absolutely. Here, let me bend over and just pull the cash out of my ass. Ooops. There isn't any there. Sorry, unfortunately I am physically unable to comply. Perhaps I haven't explained it clearly enough. I. AM. IN. JAIL. I have no access to any money that you all think that I have. I can't work because I am in jail, so I can't get any cash that way either. You keep thinking that I have all this money laying around in my cell. Ask the guards. They check it every week. You keep ordering me to pay shit, but don't give me the opportunity to do it." I admonished.

"Mr. Nielson, you can have your lawyer access your accounts and transfer the funds to your ex-wife."

"First off, as you can clearly see, I do not have a lawyer. Second, what accounts? You keep talking about these phantom accounts, but where are they? I keep trying to explain it to you that I am dead broke, but you refuse to believe that. Third, even if these phantom accounts did exist somewhere, do you seriously think that I have the access information in my head? I would need access to my financial records to get bank account and routing numbers in order to access these phantom accounts. That's all moot anyway, because there are no accounts. If you believe that these accounts somehow exist, would you be so kind as to show me the account info for them?"

"What happened to all the money from your checking account, savings account, and investments then?"

"I told you that last time. It was a couple very bad investments. I took a chance and got wiped out."

"What about the money from the sale of your company?"

"The company was in bad shape because of those investments. I had to sell it cheap and use the payments to cover expenses. There isn't any money left over."

"Mr. Nielson. Do you actually think that this court believes that hogwash?"

I shrugged. "I really don't care. If you think I'm lying, show me the account information where I'm hiding all that money. What I think is that SHE stole all the money and is trying to screw me over while she is screwing her boyfriends."

"That doesn't even make sense!" Shouted her lawyer.

"It makes as much sense as keeping me in jail where I have no access to money, then demand that I make all of these payments you all want." I responded.

"Mr. Nielson. Are you aware that I can keep you in jail until you pay?" The judge asked.

I just looked at her like she had just grown a third eye. "OK. I'll play along. Go ahead and keep me where I am unable to abide by your orders as you keep making demands that are simply impossible for me to accomplish. That sounds logical."

Three months later, the house had been foreclosed on. Wanda had lost her Lexus because she couldn't afford the payments. She was now living with her parents because she couldn't afford an apartment for her and the girls. She was working 30-hours a week at the diner. They were begging the judge to let me out so I could start making some sort of payments.

Loverboy had been released from the hospital and was in physical therapy. He was spending hours every day trying in vain to clear up his financial situation. The only good thing was that no new credit card accounts were being opened in his name. That's because his credit rating by this point was so low that no one was willing to issue any more credit cards in his name. He only had minimal insurance coverage on his car, so he didn't get anything from that. Since he didn't work full time at the gym, he had personal health care insurance with very high deductibles. It was going to take him years to pay off his medical bills.

I had finally gotten a lawyer. She had made a deal with the judge to let me out of jail so I could get a job and begin making payments. I had to surrender my passport, because they were still convinced that I had money somewhere and I was a flight risk. I was a good boy and went to work at the local Taco Bell. By this time, I was living at the ranch with Howard and Cheryl. I was being watched in case I had a stash of cash laying around. Of course, I knew that and had easily figured out who was watching me. They couldn't come onto the ranch property, so they had to do their surveillance from the road. Little did they know that most of the cash was already in my possession.

I did that for the next three months. Wanda used a court order to attach my wages from my job. I didn't care. I was making minimum wage, so she didn't get much. Over that time, I was finalizing my plans. Howard had emptied out my apartment while I was in jail. He had divided up everything between my extended family. A couple of weeks earlier, several packages had been shipped from my extended family. Those packages had all been addressed to the same location. Several of Cheryl's family members had been over to visit at different times. We even had a few barbeques with them, as well as most of my extended family a few times. What the surveillance didn't see was that the guests would go over to the sheds behind the house and take some packages back to their vehicles throughout the day. Over the next couple of weeks, those packages would be repackaged and shipped away.

My time was spent either working or at home. I never went out. Taco Bell eventually had to get a restraining order against Wanda, because she was constantly coming into the restaurant to harass me about the money I owed her. It became disruptive. Sure, they could have simply fired me, but a slip of cash to the Manager changed her mind on that. When I needed to meet with my lawyer, she came over to the ranch. We had a lot of meetings. Oh, I didn't tell you about my new lawyer? Of course, I did. She was representing the interests of the new owners of my former company that day in court. Once she completed that, I hired her as my lawyer. She's a real shark, too. Well, I prefer to think of her as a barracuda, especially when she is skinny dipping in the pool. She's sleek, lean, and will attack suddenly when I'm sitting naked on the edge of the pool. She also has a voracious appetite. [GRIN] What do you mean that it is unethical for a lawyer to sleep with their client? I did say she is a lawyer, right? An ethical lawyer? You're kidding, right? Lawyers believe scruples are what you use to pay in Russia, and morals are large paintings on walls.

OK, so you are probably wondering about my money. Yes, I actually did sell my firm. No, I didn't sell it to myself. I was not going to give Wanda any chance to stumble upon any information that she could use to take any part of the firm. I was getting rid of it. Besides, I wanted the cash. Since the sale occurred overseas, and the money never entered United States of America jurisdiction, it was not subject to US laws. The only way that Wanda could touch it was if I brought any of the money into a US bank. With the judgements against me, she could claim it. That simply was not going to happen. It was a LOT of money. Added to that were my investment accounts that were in the $10-million range. Cash on hand from the safety deposit box, checking and savings accounts, and my safes with cash in them equaled around $200,000. Some of the cash I had used for my plans, but I still had around $150,000 on hand. I wasn't going to be taking any of the cash with me.

So, it was a beautiful Saturday afternoon. We were having another barbeque with the extended family. All the preparations were complete, and everything was set. The party was a lot of fun. I helped Howard with the grill and smoker. Julia, my lawyer was there as well. Later in the afternoon, one of Cheryl's uncles walked up to me. He expressed his gratitude for me helping Cheryl and Howard out and was glad that we had finally reconnected. We talked for a bit, and he pulled an envelope out and handed it to me. I passed it over to Julia so she could put it in her briefcase. Later in the evening, I made an announcement. I announced that the lienholder for the ranch had declared that the mortgage for the ranch had been paid off, and that Howard and Cheryl now owned the ranch free and clear. That caused a huge celebration. We partied our asses off that night.

It was late that night when the guests started to leave. Julia couldn't stay the night, because she had a flight to catch the next morning. She left with a group of six other cars. Oddly, her flight was out of an airport in the next state. She had packed previously and had everything in her leased car when she came to the party. She never went to her rented apartment; instead, she went straight to the airport. No one witnessed the man climbing out of the back of her car in the parking garage and, no one took notice of the man casually walking 50-feet behind her as they made their way to the international terminal. Michael Nielson couldn't travel outside the US, because he had surrendered his passport to the court.

Mitchel Nelson's passport never even garnered a second look. No one even gave a second look as they held hands in adjoining seats as they flew first class to Mexico City. Julia Davis suddenly disappeared there. Instead, Jamie Nelson joined Mitchel Nelson for their connecting flight to Ecuador. It was two days later when Greg and Samantha Cooper reached their hacienda on the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica. They were now multiple members of the Mile-High Club. Oddly, an old Chevy pickup that resembled the one which disappeared from the ranch owned by Howard and Cheryl was waiting for them at the hacienda.

Two weeks after the barbeque, a bench warrant was issued for Michael Nielson. He had failed to show up to work two days after the barbeque. He was fired for no show- no call. No payments to his ex-wife have been received since. When Howard and Cheryl were summoned before the court, a lawyer in a $5,000 skirt suit showed up with them. She successfully argued that the couple had no responsibility towards their cousin. He simply rented a room from them, and he disappeared one day. They even produced their own suit against him for back rent. All the information that they could give was that he drove off in his old pickup one afternoon and just never came back. Of course, no one actually believed them, but there was no proof to the contrary.

Over the next several years, Greg Cooper operated a small charter fishing boat. His wife, Samantha ran their small cantina. They were well off in the small village. Their hacienda was one of the larger ones with several luxuries. They occasionally had guests visit for periods of time. Harold and Cheryl were there often, as well as other family members of Howard and Cheryl. It was a simple, yet pleasant life for both Greg and Sam. They loved each other fully. They spent most evenings entertaining guests in the small cantina, or in their lavish hacienda. Being both wealthy and pleasant to all around, they were both quickly accepted into the small community. Whenever a need was found in the community, they donated generously. It should be noted that Greg continually played the stock markets whenever he was not on his boat or in the cantina. He even set up accounts for some of the locals and assisted them in their finances.

It was 17-years after the last barbeque that Michael and Julia had attended at the ranch (officially. Greg and Samantha had occasionally over the years managed to sneak in and attend several of them). Michael Cooper was taking a break with his younger sister Julia at the cantina where they worked helping out their parents. Michael was 17-years old, and Julia had just turned 16. They were talking about plans for the weekend when two slightly older blonde-haired blue-eyed girls walked in. There was something slightly familiar about them. The girls looked around, then zeroed in on the siblings. In matching steps, the identical pair marched with determination in their direction.

"Hello." The girl on the right began. "Would you be so kind as to inform the owners of this establishment that we are here to see a Michael Nielson and a Julia Davis, please?"

"Well, I can let my parents know that, but I assure you that they have no idea who those people are. Our parents are the owners, and I've never heard them ever even mention those names. I've been around this cantina my entire life, and I assure you that there has never been a Michael Nielson to Julia Brown here unless they were a tourist eating her once or twice." Michael answered. "Who should I tell them is asking?"

The twins looked at each other briefly, then the one on the left spoke. Tell them that it is Kayla and Kathy Nielson. Michael's daughters and your half-sisters."

"First off, our parents are Greg and Samantha Olsen, not Michael Nielson and Julia Brown. Second, what makes you think that we are even the slightest bit related?" I asked.

"Yes, we know what names they go by now. It took a lot of hard work and a bit of money to figure that information out. How we know that we are related is that you, Michael, are the splitting image of your father's pictures from 20-years ago. Also, Julia there looks very similar to her mother from the same time. Granted, we are not related by blood, but the courts have ruled that your father is legally our father as well."

I had just come into the back of the cantina carting a couple of Tuna that we would be offering as the Catch-of-the-Day. Sam had met me in the doorway with a kiss. Just as I swung the fish onto the counter to begin cutting them up, Michael came through the door.

"Hey, dad. Uuuummm, there are two blonde girls that just came into the cantina. They are looking for a Michael Nielson and a Julia Brown. They say they are your daughters."

Well, to say I was shocked would be an understatement. Sure, we weren't overly subtle about our names when we got out of dodge, but I thought we were pretty well covered by the time we got here. Well, I guess that I should go talk to them. There really wasn't much of a threat. I'm pretty sure that the Statute of Limitations has run out for anything I was guilty of by now. Besides, it wouldn't be a bad idea to find out what kind of trouble I might be in for if they had any designs on revenge for me. With that thought in mind, I looked over at Sam/Julia and shrugged before turning and walking towards the cantina dining area.

I noticed the twins right off. They were almost carbon copies of their mother when she was their age. Sam/Julia followed me as I made my way over to the table where they were talking to my daughter. Shooing the two kids away to take care of the few customers in the dining room, Sam and I sat down opposite the twins. At the very least, it should be an interesting conversation.

"Hello, Dad." The one on the left greeted. "Nice to finally meet you."

"Hello Kayla and Kathy. I'm not sure which is which, but since you are here, you should probably be aware of why I'm not really your father." I replied.

"Oh, yes. We are fully aware. Thanks to the FOIA, we were able to get all of the transcripts from your many court appearances. Obviously, mom wasn't exactly thrilled with that, but once we turned 18, we could file as adults without having to get her permission."

"OK, so obviously you know the whole story. You also seem to understand my position on it. Yet here you are. You went to a lot of trouble and expense to find me, then actually travel all the way here to see me. Why are you here?"

"Oh, it's very simple, actually. We are here to bargain with you for your freedom. Technically, you are still on the hook for a boatload of child support and maintenance for our mom. That means that you can actually be arrested if you ever go anywhere with an extradition treaty with the US. Now, we all know that there is an extradition treaty between Costa Rica and the US, but it is more trouble than it is worth in your case. Still, if you were ever to actually enter the US, you could easily be arrested." Kayla stated.

"Here is what we propose." Kathy picked up. "We want to go to college. Our grades are good enough for some scholarships, but we still need funds to make up the difference as well as living expenses. If you finance us for the rest of it, we will petition the court to relieve you of the rest of your responsibility."

"What about your mother. I'm not sure that she would be so forgiving as to give up all the money that she is owed."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that. If you agree to our proposal, she won't be in any position to cause problems. In fact, she won't even be in the US to fight for anything."

I suddenly got a bad feeling about this. I dreaded asking this next question. I just knew that I was REALLY not going to like the answer. "Uuuuummm, so, where would she be?"

I really didn't like the smirks that Kayla and Kathy got at that. "Oh, she will be in Costa Rica managing this cute little cantina on the coast, so the owners have plenty of time to visit relatives and enjoy their lives."

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!!!! "Please tell me that she isn't waiting right outside." I begged.

"You're in luck. I can honestly tell you that she isn't right outside." Kayla answered.

Just as I was about to sigh in relief, I heard a voice behind me. "Hello, Michael."

Kathy crushed my relief. "Nope. She is inside right behind you."

I turned around and faced the one person on this planet that I never wanted to see. "Hello, Wanda."

It was four years later. Julie and I were sitting in the stands watching Kayla and Kathy graduate from the University of Arizona. Michael Jr. and JJ (Julie Junior) were sitting beside us. Sitting beside me on the opposite side from Julie was Wanda. We had given her vacation time from running our cantina so she could come with us to watch her daughters graduate. Yes, I paid for their education. I was rich, and I could easily afford it. Besides, I had been getting pretty tired of having to sneak into the country to see my relatives. Wanda realized that she was never going to get anything from me, so she decided that living nice in Cosa Rica was a lot better than struggling in the US. She wasn't rich, but we paid her a decent salary. I also began helping her invest. She even managed to get a really nice guy she ended up marrying.

Oh, and the Dishonorable Judge Marie Matthews? I actually laughed my ass off. A few years after I had made my escape to Costa Rica, Judge Matthews wife (of course that man-hating cunt was a lesbian) was caught cheating on her. The judge had adopted her wife's three kids when they got married. Since they were married, Judge Matthews was stuck paying Child Support, Maintenance, as well as maintaining house payments for her now ex-wife. To add to the humiliation, her ex-wife quickly moved her boyfriend into the house and continued to fuck him. Whenever they were seen out in public, they acted like a typical married couple, except they never officially got married. I did hear a rumor that they finally set a wedding date. It will be a week after their youngest son graduates from college. Judge Matthews is required to pay child support and maintenance until the child graduates from college, or until her ex-wife remarries. Odd timing on the marriage; it will be exactly 1-week after all of Judge Matthews financial obligations to her ex-wife are satisfied.

End.

Peter Pig wasn't feeling well, so he went into the hospital. His wife, Petra Pig was worried about him, so she went in every day to check on him.

The doctor met her just outside his door one morning and said "Good News, Mrs. Pig. Your husband has been cured."

Petra Pig's spirits were lifted, and she ran into the room as happy as could be. Her happiness turned to horror as she looked on the bed. Her husband had indeed been cured. There sat two whole hams and five pounds of bacon.