I was in one of those seedy Third World airports, waiting on a nine-hour layover for my flight out.

It was somewhere in between Hashishistan and the Republic of Outer Oogaboogaland on one of those small, forgotten islands out in the middle of the Pacific that's used as a toilet for ships at sea to dump criminals, wacko shipmates, the diseased and dangerous, and every other type and form of lowlife, weirdo, and strange thing ever got puked off a cargo ship.

The airport was nasty. When I stepped off the plane the first thing that hit me was the reek of the place. The smell of the Third World. The fruits of darkie self-rule. The air itself stank like an open sewer, making me instinctively put my hand to my nose and mouth, and breathe in gasps. The mongoloid looking captain laughed and slapped me on the back and said, "Don't worry sah! De smell you get used to bye and bye! Hee hee!" and he scuttled off the ladder past me and into the night fog. Inside the airport it was rather large, looking like it might have been built before World War II by the GIs for military flights then abandoned to the natives. A bar was at one end of this long room.

I headed for it and the ragged looking barstool nearest me. "What'll ya have?" asked a grinning buck that had teeth like neon lights. Damn! But he was one butt-ugly monkey! "Whiskey, no ice." He nodded and turned away. I scanned my surroundings. There was more paint peeling off the walls than sticking, and the floors looked like they hadn't seen soap in at least a decade. About a half-dozen other people languished under a slow turning ceiling fan that did little more than irritate the huge horse flies that were busy pestering these castoffs of humanity.

I couldn't remember when I'd seen so many damn ugly people in one place at one time. There was one guy wearing a turban. He was tall, lean and wolfish looking with a nose that could open a tomato sauce can. He was weaving and gently chanting some strange ritual with his eyes shut. In front of him sat an extremely fat and stinky Negro woman wearing a floppy sun hat stuffed with artificial flowers. Sitting beside her was a bushy-headed little niglet that was grudgingly holding her knitting bag as she industriously tried to knit something resembling a sock for a giraffe. I say stinky because the vast majority of horseflies were circling her instead of the other patrons. The niglet kept eyeing a candy machine in the corner that looked like it had been salvaged from the dump. From where I sat I could swear I saw a dead bird lying in the bottom of the glass case. I heard a glass hit the table behind me and I turned and paid the grinning buck, who gave me back one hell of a lot less change than I had expected. He shrugged at my sour face and said, "Eez de high cost of sheeping here sah! Eba-ting costs much!" I nodded disgustedly and took a drink. It was strong and good. At least they had good booze. A guy needed it here.

From my stool I resumed checking out the group of passengers waiting together under the fan. They all sat in tiny laminated wood chairs that had obviously been salvaged from some high school. The entire group was clustered smack in the middle of the room, where the only light and the only fan existed. Looking around I noticed other light sockets, but no bulbs. I asked the bartender about it. "No bulbs, no eelectreec beel! Eez simple, eh?" Hee hee!" "So! You own the place, eh?" The coon puffed out his chest and replied, "Yessah! Aah izz de ownah of dis heah fine estableeshment!" He poured himself a shot of whiskey and downed it noisily, smacking his monster lips several times, sounding like someone slapping a hog's ass with a paddle. Now I knew why the booze was good. Someone fidgeted to the right of the Sikh, or whatever he was, and I noticed a squat Jew in a cheap business suit. He was bald, fifty, with a hook nose with a hump on it big enough to make a camel jealous. Beady little brown eyes stared out of huge round glasses that were as thick as coke bottles. In his lap he held a large, fat satchel. It was handcuffed to his wrist. Hmmm. Let's see here: Jew, satchel, handcuffs.. Money. No doubt about it, the old Jew had a load of cash he was trying to transport from one stash to no doubt a much larger one somewhere. When it comes to money, Jews never have enough. They're like Ravens and shiny things. If they see it, they'll take it. I wondered whose life he'd ruined to get hold of that much bread. He was sweating like a hog and watching the front door as if he expected the Devil himself to come waltzing through at any moment.

Two seats from him sat a young lady who was dressed like a whore but had the body and face of an angel. Every man in the place was eyeballing her periodically. Women like that are eye glue to men. Even the good ones can't help but look. It's something primal in us. We flat can't control it. It's irritated the hell out of me at times in my life. Women should have better sense because the worst among us will do a lot more than look. Stupid girls like that have gotten a lot of decent and fine men killed down through the ages by forcing them to come to their rescue once some lowlife has had all the looks he can take and wants more. Oh, they're always tearful and sorry afterwards, but the poor sap is still deader than a stepped on roach. Girls like that really piss me off. Why do they have to be so butt-ass stupid about men? She was wearing stiletto high heels, a red dress than looked painted on-especially around her ass, and the top of the dress was more of a serving platter for her boobs than a covering. The blonde wore enough makeup to put a clown in the poorhouse. Asking for it? You betcha. In front of her was a guy in a long, black robe, the kind you'd see worn by some ancient Gothic monk in the Dark Ages. He had the hood pulled down low so you couldn't see his face, and his hands were tucked inside the sleeves. He sat unmoving with his head bowed. What really freaked me was that it was at least a hundred degrees with a hundred percent humidity, and this guy was wearing that? Creepy.. I expected to see a pool of sweat dripping at his feet..but nothing... There were a couple of others but I'd seen enough to know that I had stopped at a freak show of an island, and the sooner I left this place, the better. I ordered another drink and the barkeep was more than happy to oblige me, especially at these prices..

I checked out the scenery behind the bar. You can see a lot of history by doing that. There were faded black & white pictures of World War II pilots and even Japs, and there was what sure looked like a shrunken head grinning at me from the same shelf my bottle sat on. It had red hair.. There were Voodoo charms and other talismans that I didn't recognize, and a host of other oddities that would take an anthropologist a career to figure out. An extremely dim, red bulb backlit the bar but other than that and the bulb in the middle of the room, there was no light whatsoever. And night had fallen three hours before I landed. It was gloomy and dim to the point of being spooky. There was no music, only the sound of the creaking fan and an occasional cough or shuffle. Everyone was lost in their own thoughts and activities and no one talked to anyone else. Deader than an undertaker's sex life. The night's blackness was closing in, and the only thing that really shone were the niglet's big, bulging eyes as he gazed fearfully about at the gloom all around us. Every now and then though, he'd return his greedy gaze to the old candy machine.. I had turned and was making small talk with the barkeep when I heard a commotion behind me. Apparently the niglet had carefully sat Granny's knitting bag down when she dozed off, and had made a beeline to the candy machine. Like all niglets, money burns a hole in their pockets and he was broke, so again like all niglets, he set about to steal the candy. I could see his nappy head bobbing around behind the machine, trying to figure a way into it. Stupid, greedy little chimp.. Suddenly, in a fit of frustrated rage he pushed the machine over on its face. It hit the floor with a loud Crash! There was the sound of busting glass as the face of the machine shattered into a million pieces. With a roar of rage the buck behind the bar came out wielding a small Billy club. The niglet reached a bony arm inside the machine and grabbed several large handfuls of loot, then jumped up and ran out the door, cackling and cussing at the barkeep. His Granny was jolted wide awake by the thunderous crash, but only saw the part where the big nasty barkeep chased sweet little Levon out the door with a Billy club. She was on her feet in a flash and bearing down on the buck, her huge knitting bag swinging like a mace. She was cussing him like a Russian sailor on Saturday night as she let loose on the poor buck's head. Suddenly the Sikh used the commotion as a handy diversion and unwrapped part of his turban, came up behind the fat Jew and proceeded to strangle the shit out of him. I watched the show with pure delight and stark amazement. Hell, this was better than the floor show in Alongapo city!

Just when I thought things couldn't get any weirder, the blonde bimbo in the slut's outfit got up and walked over to the guy in the monk's outfit and whispered something in his ear. They both took a walk to the back of the building and disappeared into the gloom. In the meantime, me and the remaining loungers watched the tag team match going on between the four miscreants. The Jew was turning purple and the Sikh was demanding the key to his handcuffs. The barkeep was fending off more vicious blows from Granny's handbag, but only enraged her more when he accused her little angel of trashing his candy machine."Ma boy, he a good boy! He done it by accident! Ya hear me niggah?" And she laid into him again. Finally the Jew handed the raghead the key. The Sikh deftly unlocked the case and vanished out the door and into the night with the red-faced Jew waddling fast after him. All I needed was some popcorn. Then I saw the niglet standing right outside the plate glass window in the dark. He was tearing off a big bite of taffy with his teeth and grinning evilly at the barkeep and his Granny. Big mistake because Granny spotted him. Suddenly her wrath was turned toward her thieving grandson. "Why you no good, thieving little niggah! Git yo' worthless little ass in heah' so's ah can beat you silly!"

The niglet choked on his stolen candy and his eyes bugged wide in terror, looking like two boiled eggs thrown in a tar pit. He turned to beat feet, but she was on him like lightening and had him by the dirty collar before he could take two steps. He squealed like a caught pig as she proceeded to wail the daylights out of him. The barkeep stumbled forward, rubbing his battered head, but grinning like an ape as she worked the little thief over but good. Candy flew from every pocket and the barkeep snapped them all up as quick as a cobra. Then he made the drastic nigger mistake of saying, "And just who izz gonna pay fo' my busted candy machine in theah?" Granny turned loose of the howling niglet and turned back on the barkeep, delivering a dazzling blow up side his head with her monster purse. "You think aah izz gonna pay fo' dat machine? Did ahh bust yo' machine?" Whop! "No, aah dinnut! It wuz dat good fo' nothin' grandchile' o' mine! And he aint' got no money, so Whop! aah don' think he gonna pay fo' it eitha!" Whop! The monk came back and sat down, but the girl was nowhere to be seen. I kept waiting for her to make an appearance out of pure curiosity, but she never did. Soon the barkeep came in and went and got an ice-pack for his swollen head. Granny had taken off into the island to hunt down her grandkid and finish giving him the treatment. I was sure that by now he was way up a palm tree somewhere, munching candy and rubbing his sore ass. I never saw the Jew or the Sikh again. No doubt one was still chasing the other somewhere... All that was left was me, the barkeep, the monk, and a couple of other nondescript passengers waiting for a flight out of this armpit of creation.

After my fourth whiskey I was starting to unwind a little and my bladder chose that exact moment to announce its presence to me. I glanced around for a head. This ought to be an experience...I thought to myself. Asking the buck got him to pointing to the very back of the station where the lighting was dimmest. I couldn't see them from where I sat, but he assured me the bathrooms were back there.. Somewhere... I got uneasily to my feet and made my way towards the back of the building. Every bored eye turned in my direction as if I were tonight's entertainment. Considering everything, I guess I was all that was left. I found the door more by smell than by sight and pushed it open. The door creaked loudly on its hinges, announcing to the world that someone had entered. The smell would knock a starved buzzard off a gut wagon. The sound of flies was deafening. In the far corner was another very dim bulb, maybe a twenty watter. This was one cheap coon... Peering around I found an old urinal. But when I got closer I recoiled in horror as I discovered that someone had been taking a dump in it repeatedly, leaving a pyramid of rotting shit, tp, and a huge topping of horseflies like a cherry on top. It was so grotesque that it was actually funny. I chuckled and gagged at the same time. The insanity of my species never failed to amaze me. Something crunched loudly under my boot. I looked down to see that I had accidentally killed the biggest, gnarliest damned spider I'd ever seen in my entire life! This sucker was the size of a coffee saucer, and was haired over like a tarantula. But that's where the similarity ended. This was a frigging spider.. It had fangs on it like a centipede, and huge, baleful eyes that glared hatefully at me. No doubt it had been scampering over to bite the crap out of me when I nailed it out of pure good fortune. I kicked it on top of the pyramid of turds, and the flies greeted it enthusiastically.

I looked around for a safer pace to relieve myself and spied a couple of stalls. I opened the first one and almost fell over. There was shit and tp hanging on the inside walls, along with old gum, food, barf, and other things long dead and best not described. The floor was peeling up and slimy as a toads ass. The toilet was an open maw leading straight to Hell. There were things in the toilet water looking back at me. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. Pass! I was in for an even bigger surprise when I got to the last stall, and couldn't believe my eyes. It was clean! That damned thing looked like it had dropped here out of the Twilight Zone because it damn sure didn't belong here in this place..The toilet was clean and in fact looked brand-new. So did the tile and the tp receptacle. Shining chrome was everywhere and the walls were sparkling clean. You could've knocked me over with a cough! It must be the barkeep's personal stall!.. I guessed to myself. After all, who else would do this? I felt somehow like a mouse in a trap however, and some nagging sense of what I instinctively knew to be the "order of things in the universe" told me that this whole scene was wrong, wrong, wrong, and that I should get the hell out of here and just go piss on a wall outside somewhere.. But my bladder saw the toilet and started raising bloody hell about it, so I raised the lid and took careful aim so as not to spoil the pristine beauty of the place. I had just about finished when suddenly there was a loud Bang! It was the sound of someone entering that nightmare stall next to mine! The very thought cut me off in mid-stream and I zipped myself together as fast as I could. But before I could leave I heard this new guest sit down on the seat and go to work. The very idea that he would let his ass touch that horror simply appalled me, and I was frozen in shock and amazement. There were critters in that water!

And if that damned spider was any yardstick they were extra mean and nasty! Just then he let out a loud groan that was anything but human. It sounded more like a yak giving breech birth. He hit the side of the stall so hard that he dented it inwards toward me. I stared in amazement because the old metal walls of these stalls were thick, almost to the point of being steel plate, yet he bent it like beer tin. More groaning followed, getting louder and louder, then he let loose with something that hit the water like a brick being tossed in a bathtub. Then a sound came out of him that sounded like someone gargling a sock. I spied movement out of the corner of my eye and instantly leaped on the toilet lid as a long, warty, slime covered critter, about a foot-and-a-half long with a long, lizard-like tail slithered wetly out from under his stall, across mine diagonally and on out the door. Before it left it turned and looked up at me with two green, evil little eyes and hissed. It's mouth was full of long, needle-like teeth with something red hanging from them. My testicles ran for cover thinking about that thing waiting for someone at the bottom of a toilet.. But there was another loud Boom! from the toilet and the thing turned and hauled butt. More dents appeared in the wall of my stall, but now I was afraid to leave. Whatever was in that stall had scared that critter and had the cojones to sit on that toilet! I sure didn't want to meet it! Then the smell hit. GAWD! My throat closed up like I'd smelled pure ammonia. The stench was akin to boiling a rotten mummy in dead cat sauce, with a touch of toxic waste for flavor. Every breathe was a struggle for survival. Then "he" or whatever the hell it was over in that damn stall, let loose with the longest, loudest, rankest sounding farts this side of the Jurassic Age. It sounded like someone trying to play the tuba by jamming it up a dog's ass, then blowing through its nose. And with each new, horrifying sound came another indescribable olfactory terror. My eyes watered and my nose ran, and my legs became rubbery. Some things have no right to exist on any plane of reality, and this was one of those... Then came the loud crunching and munching sounds, as if a beaver were eating a pine cone, or maybe bones snapping in the jaws of an alligator, followed by a loud burp and more horrendous farts and other obscene noises and smells.

I wanted out of there! Just as I had decided to risk all and make a break for the door, to my abject horror a hand shot out from under the stall and into mine. It was twice the size of a normal human hand and covered in both scales and tufts of thick, black fur. Long claws tipped each finger and blood dripped from it as if its owner had just....disemboweled something... The hand crawled up the wall on my side of the stall until it reached the toilet paper dispenser, at which point it ripped the entire affair off the wall and dragged it back to it's side. That was it, Jack.. I'd had it! Whatever happened after this point didn't matter. Dead or alive, I was getting the hell out of there! With a howl of panic and wild abandon, I yanked the stall door open and ran without looking back. I heard the door of the stall next to mine bang open behind me and heard a deep animal growl and felt a rush of air so close to my neck that the fine hairs on the back were brushed. I imagined some misshapen, gigantic clawed hand taking a malevolent swipe at me as I made my escape. I made it to the door and out, and ran screaming at the top of my lungs out onto the tarmac. Old Granny was yelling something far behind me, but it didn't register right then. Not until days later. There was an old DC-10 about to leave back in the direction I'd just come from, and I jumped on board before the stewardess could close the hatch. "But sir! We're returning to your point of departure!" she said questioningly. "I know! I don't care! Let's just go, ok?" She nodded doubtfully but helped me buckle in. I was still gibbering and talking to myself three days after the incident, and it took me years to really get over the whole affair. That's because, you see, I did see one small detail as I stood petrified on the toilet lid:.. There were monk's robes sticking out from under the stall....

Postscript: About two weeks after my visit to the island, I was sitting and downing a few more whiskies when suddenly I remembered Granny's words on the tarmac as I ran for the plane. I grinned and said softly to myself, Well perhaps there is justice in the universe after all.. You see, her last words were, "Aah can't finds dat no good little niggah no wheah!" As I ran out the door that night I'd seen the sneaky little bastard skulking behind her, an evil grin flashing on his shining black face...as he made for the same bathroom I was running from... I busted up out loud and people stared at me. I didn't give a shit. I just ordered another whiskey and kept grinning...