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Many of you may not realize this, but writing is only a hobby for me. My real job is being a spy - just like James Bond.

And like Bond, I travel all over the world, gamble in the best casinos, meet the most beautiful women, and chase down the world's most evil criminals.

In fact, that is exactly what happened just last yesterday, when I drove to Atlantic City (in my Lamborghini) to play at Caesar's.

"This is some place," said the guy sitting next to me at the blackjack table. "The last place I stayed at was a real hole in the wall."

"Where was that?" I asked.

"Afghanistan," he answered.

Afghanistan? Stayed in a hole in the wall? Could it be that this guy wearing the white robes and sporting the long gray beard was...?

He was losing heavily and asked the pit boss if he could get credit.

"Of course," he was told. "We're always willing to extend credit to someone who is worth $25 million."

I immediately ran to the telephone and called the FBI.

"I know where Osama Bin Laden is!" I told them excitedly. "He is sitting at the blackjack table at Caesar's. But hurry up - he may not be there long, he's losing big time."

"How about you?" the FBI agent asked.

"I'm winning - why?"

"In that case we'll be right there," said the agent. "Those winnings are subject to federal income tax."

By the time I got back to the table, Bin Laden was gone - so I decided to go look for him.

I went down to the slots area to search and saw a woman holding the handle of a slot machine which had fallen off. She called an attendant to complain about it and was told, "It's supposed to come off - that's our 'Bobbit Slot.'"

Further wandering took me in to a room where people were playing Keno. A young woman hit for $100,000 and fainted. I raised her head a bit and when she came to, I said to her "Big breaths."

"Yeth," she replied, "and I'm only eigth-theen."

"Is there a doctor in the house?" I yelled.

"I'm a doctor," said one man, "but I can't help her. The hotel asked me to rush to the Royalty Suite. Apparently one of the women in the English Royal Family is feeling sick - they figure it must be British Mad Cow Disease."

I pushed on with my search for Bin Laden and went to the roulette tables. A woman was screaming, "Yes! Yes!" A few minutes later, she called out, "Wonderful!" Then, with the next roll of the wheel, "I did it again! I can't believe it! I'm in heaven!"

"You must be winning a fortune," I said to her.

"Me?" she asked in surprise. "I haven't won all night."

"Then what is all the yelling about?" I asked.

"That's my husband turning the wheel," she explained, "and I'm doing what I always do with him - faking it."

But where could Bin Laden be? Finally - it hit me: Craps! What could be a more fitting place for him to hide?

I rushed over to the tables and met a man from Roswell, New Mexico.

"You just missed him," the guy told me. "He got into a flying saucer and flew away."

"That sounds mighty weird to me," I said.

"Me, too," the guy agreed. "I can't imagine how he got past the Martian security people."

-

Note: I had a very difficult time convincing Helium to run this story.

"It's too unbelievable," they said to me. "Satires are one thing, but they have to have at least some basis in reality. No one will ever believe that you own a Lamborghini!"

Learn more about this author, Josh Wilde.
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