1976-1983

August 3,1976: Boclavaria(Braton U) Nousingulo(female) Age: 3  Location:  Seattle,WA.  Time: 11:23 pm pst.

There is a white man, in his mid 60's with balding greyish hair and 3 day stubble.  He's tied to a wooden chair, naked in a large empty room in a mansion located in Seattle,WA.  There is a spotlight on him and he is sweating a river and a lake.  He can see three black silhouettes and a camera, but cannot make out their faces.  He feels as if he's been intravenously  given some kind of drug, he likes it, but wants to fight it the cool sensation of confidence.  He notices another small figure behind the silhouettes that is off to the left.  He lowers his head and smiles to himself.  He holds his head up, to see the shadow on the right smoking a cigarette, then, removing a piece of paper from their back pocket, while the person in the middle runs the camera and the person on the left holds a revolver towards him.  The shadow on the right begins to read.  "Can it. This has nothing to do with a cannon or everything this has to do with you.  Now, before you die on a sunny day, stare into the sun & make sure that you remember my name. Oh your friend here will be the time teller & he has this clock in his hand & while you pretend that you are married, we all, meaning all will know the truth.  Now, adjust the dynamite in your mouth properly.  I swear, you will not feel anything but pain.  The fuse is long enough, so you can think happy thoughts while I talk to you."  He thought that his hands were tied, but just numb.  He  adjust the stick of dynamite  as he was told, looks to the left, behind the gun toting shadow, while the shadow on the right continues.  "You know that when your whole family sees this film, you wished you were dead, before you were even born."  The right shadow then walks to the end of the room in heel clicking steps and lights the fuse that has to be at least 100 yards long, as it sits in the corner, unraveling as it burns.  "You will no longer have any fears, because where you are going," the right shadow continues as they potions themselves in their first place, "there may be a need to do anything,but the right thing and sometimes the right thing can make things right-" then she kills them on point as you told her to do.  She has no hesitation from shooting the three of them in the back of the head, as not to see her at all.  The suppressor helped.  You cringe a smile and think a happy thought that your daughter, your youngest  daughter, is a deadly solider.  She leaves you in the form of a shadow, while you prepare as much as you can to explode into all of the chaos of nothings rhythm.  You will not know suffering, until you explode, only to come into the whole means of formation and flesh, just to be the first ghost to die again.  Can you remember your name?

April 3,1977: Besema Nousingulo(female) Age: 16. Location: Seattle Federal Safe House #8.  Time : 10:13 pm pst.

(Pulling out a clip board, pen,glasses, while the whick burns.  Adjusts himself/herself, then continues with the questions.)

"This is suppose to be a purchase approved by your sister, or so that's what you said,is that true or not?" the Fed asked you over and again, as if they nourished the act of redundancy. " You state that the assets that you have are caused by suicide?  Because someone like the track that your father's brain's had held against the wall as a love memento to his homosexual lover?"  She just sits still & reply's with the only response she has given, unless she didn't agree with the questions, sincerely wishing that her face was bloody.  Braton U will come and get her.  She never misses a promise,especially when it comes to a rescue. "Look miss, we can go through this all night and all day, so as long as you play these games, you will be here asked the same withering questions over and over and over, again, do you understand?"  He/her adjust themselves again and turn towards the door when it's knocked upon.  They approach the door, and are blown back against the wall, decorated in shreds of wood and blood from a massive explosion.  Beseme delicately  gets up and walks out of the room.  She passes parts of at least six people's remains scatters about the next room, before making her way to the exit, outside.  She sees the lights of a car in the night air, that flash for her attention.  With this, she sighs and says in a whisper, "Braton U.  She must have Balo driving," and she gets in the back seat and they are off, never to have a trace of them involved in this incident that "never happened."

NOTE:  It appears that the family had went into hiding for about 3 years. There emerged another file of information on the following date from the following person, before they committed suicide shortly after.  The information regarding this "situation" was later reconfigured in 5 months later.

February 19,1980: Balo Nousingulo:(male) Age 24.  Location: Upper Queen Anne Apartment.(specific location classified)  Time: 7:12 pm p.s.t
(Audio cassette recording begins)

"So now...how could you do this to me father?  You only wanted me to be a priest and a priest is what I became today, but before you even had a chance to ask me what I wanted to do with my life, you didn't even have the chance to care, after you told me that you didn't care.  That all that mattered is that your mother could rest well in her grave knowing that her oldest grandson was a priest.  No baseball,no soccer, no parties, no... friends.  No friends, father!!  Do you know what that can do to a child, when that child becomes a man, the man that his father insisted that he'd become, rather than have his own path?  Now your dead.  You selfish sneaky bastard!  I think you did this on purpose to me!  You kept Braton U in an assassins abbey since she was 1, and can kill any amount of people in ways that I have never heard of, but have seen,but she got to come home to visit and never complained about when she had to leave home, as if she looked forward to it.  Did you ask her if she was happy what you paid for her to become?  You sent Besema to study with government appointed psychics, so that she could verbally manipulate any common human mind from when she was 3.  She got to live at home with you.  She got to be your daughter. Balo is the only one out of all of us that turned out somewhat normal.  He didn't go to any special training, nor did he have any special sense about him, but you didn't send him away to school, like you did your oldest child.  I haven't lived with a family, my family since I was 6 years old.  SIX YEARS OLD!!  And you have the audacity to let me believe that I was special, because you confided in me about you being in the C.I.A and that you were a married man's lover?  How breathtaking of a life should we decide for the reasons of a father's love, you dead fuckin' faggot!?!  So I hope to see you in hell, with the devils dick in your ass and mouth at the same time, so I can piss the blood of all that you made me holy with, all over your face! (places a black .38 revolver on his chin.)  I love you,father..." (the gunshot is fired and the dead body, wearing only a priests collar, falls to the floor.  End of recording.)

July 23,1980: Mrs. O.N Nousingulo:(age 34).  Location:  Hilton Hotel,Room 3004, Downtown Seattle.  Time:  11:34 am p.s.t


Your brain has exploded pressingly.   The lies paint the walls with your name & it is taken from the foundation, framed & put on display as a secret moment.  
Now you are famous.  Most famous with your shellacked brains to keep the masses interested.  Does your family miss you?  They were told that you were killed at sea in a boat accident & that your body couldn't be found, but now... you are famous.  You should have read the headline that the Times was going to print, before the current director of the Agency got wind of it & had the whole story swept under the proverbial palatalizing government rug.  "Ex-C.I.A agent killed." It had your picture on one side of the page and the crime scene on the right.  Oh I made them give me a copy, well I made them give me 2, so I could give the other one to your "lover".  God, Barlof, how could you keep this from me?  You sweep me off of my feet with your charm, handsome sizzled looks, and intelligence.  When we met in Sri Lanka, you said that you had family there & you didn't.  You were there to kill someone, but then when you stayed in our village for those 6 months.  How do you think it feels to see a white that looks like it comes from a country that all is suppose to be full of potent opportunity; White. American. Privileged. Kind.  I fell in love with you at the age of 15 years old & I remember that you told me the same.  That was the first time that anybody that was not my family had told me that. It wasn't the money that you had, or the image that you were a missionary of a religious fate & when I found out that it was a lie, you did your best to be honest with me &who you were.   It didn't matter that we were 32 years apart in age, that I had your son when I was 16 years old, then 3 more children after that.  I did not  know that when you had sex with me, you could loose your job & be labeled as a pedophile, when I gave you permission to have sex with me?  Now I see where the reason for me to put gloves on my hand & stick all of my fingers into your rectum was just a ploy for you to become aroused, & not a "natural reason for love," & how you would tell me this for years.  I am not upset with you & pray to all of the hells that live, because heaven has let me down so much in trying to love you.  I am upset at you because ever since that I have met you, in a way that a man love a woman, I wanted to please you.  For all that it's worth, I wish you would have shown me how to use that strap on to fuck you in the ass the way that made you cum, when I used my fingers. You were a vile and evil man, I know my heart tells me that you truly were.   You will never understand that I didn't care about the secrets. I only cared about you.  So I hope you die of a disease in hell, because that's where you are.  My heart tells me that & that's who you were.
Love always,
O.N

NOTE: The imprints of this  letter was found on a yellow notebook that was in the hotel room where his estranged wife was staying and copied by a clerk in the F.B.I office.



October 29,1983: Vihocsen I. Location: Bel Air, California Mansion(specific address classified.) Time: 12:32 pm p.s.t

"The thing that killed you was that whatever you assumed that made you safe, hurt you much more than what makes you breathe, or made you,rather.  So when "Mommy", your wife, reads that you died of death then the money will be a flow to forget. Ho I am so glad that my late wife died of cancer, before I asked you to kill her.  May the bitch rest in diamond encrusted jackal shit.


& the children...?


The children will be like "so what", the money that your family collects,(PHEW!)

Do you know, (well now you do, because we are tellin' you the story...) That since the  remains of your head debris were made a piece of art, that your family will not do without money anymore!  No! Really!  So since you did not tell your own self what the truth was, you are now the results of what they call in this era, 'POP ART'.  Oh the title of your piece inspires so many till this day; "PROFESSIONAL LOVELY".   A hidden meaning and search of forensic research, due to your dead ass being identified.  Yeah, now I did what you said Daddy,  so Mommy could get the money.  I don't feel good about what you asked me to do, but you said if I feel bad to write these letters & throw  them in the water, form that point in the lake where you & I use to sit, so I wouldn't feel so bad.  Well to be honest, you should've known that I am not one to write, but I may feel bad.... but not in a sad way...but kinky, so that'll have to do.


 I went by & wanted to buy the house,right? But the realtor put it on the market and the price before it was even set to sell. I had my lawyer call his office & inform them of the illegal approach that he had taken & he was fired.  I then contacted the bank to make further arrangements for the purchase.    Your house was right across the street from the lake where "I threw the letters."  I did not know that.  How bold of you to kiss me where your family could see us in the open like that.  Maybe you really did love me?  Not just the way I fucked you in that sweet hole of yours, but with your heart.

  I was so taken by the exterior and the location, that it didn't matter about the inside.  Long story short,Daddy, I had seen your brains where they told me you were shot  & thought that was the most inspirational thing.  I bought your house for $416,000,000.  I'm sorry Daddy.  I won't tell "Mommy" ,promise.  I don't think that her heart could handle the honesty.(Bitch!)    Now, I have framed your brains, taken photos & paint some of them in the Warhol style, released color prints & of course black & white.  I've got the most yummy Indian boy. An 18 year old by the name of Semsen, who agreed to pose nude in front of your remains.  His uncircumcised "moment" reminds me of you, Daddy.  I just made photos of these, with a red hue & called it "ALTIMETER".  It's been quite the craze in Europe, though, sort of an underground montage art movement, because in the States, its only seen in articles & noticed by world of mouth.

 Now your family has the money you wanted & I have you, forever.  I can't wait until tonight, so that I can masturbate, while rolling the vibrator that reminds me so much of your smell inside of my ass.  I love you, Daddy!"



NOTE:  This recording was from a wire tap that belonged to the lover of Barlof Nousingulo, Vihocsen I. Born in Decatur GA, this one time spy for the Spanish government, turned artist and owner of many world renowned galleries. From the agents camera that provided the photographs, it shown that he was talking to the now world famous work of art known to the masses as "PROFESSIONAL LOVELY". It was massively produced and at the current time is worth over 3 billion dollars, for the original print.  "ALTIMETER" original is to be worth twice as much & may be climbing.   Society has been teemed to concentrate on other media aspects and this incident is basically forgotten, but there are some that appear to remember this, somewhat. An aversion tactic was made when a non threatening religious coup was created, thus teaming the attention of the masses to this incident.   The case has been closed and the file "destroyed", (Supposedly) while the art work is seen as nothing more but creativity and seems not to deem any connection to the parties that are mentioned in this report.