The Golden Jaguar

Penelope crouched at the base of a huge tree to rest. As far as she could tell it had been three days since she had become lost in the jungle. What had started out as a lark had turned into a nightmare. As she rested she reflected on the events that led up to her present predicament.

It was only a few months ago that she had met Rodrigo at an embassy function. They were immediately attracted to one another and had seen each other frequently since their initial meeting. Cafes, the theater, carriage rides... they enjoyed all that Sao Paulo had to offer. Then, one evening, Rodrigo made an intriguing revelation. While he was browsing through local antique shops he ran across a small, leather- bound chest, the kind of container in which a sea captain might have kept important papers. The captain's log. Navigational charts. Maps. The chest was lined with yellowed newspaper, the date on which revealed that it was quite old. Rodrigo bought the chest, and when he got it home and examined it more closely he discovered that the newspaper lining was torn near the front edge of the lid. When he attempted to repair the tear by gluing it he found that something had been slipped through the tear, under the lining. He was able to grip the item with tweezers and draw it out of its hiding place. It was, Rodrigo quickly ascertained, a map. A map that revealed the location of a cache of fabulous golden objects, carried deep into the jungle by Indians fleeing the advance of European adventurers.

Everything after that had happened quickly: their decision to search for the treasure, renting a float plane, soaring above the endless green canopy along the river that lay like a ribbon of molten pewter below them, engine trouble, a crash into the river and the struggle to get ashore before they were discovered by crocodiles and piranhas. Penelope had passed out from exhaustion and when she awoke she discovered that Rodrigo was missing. Since then she had slogged through the jungle looking for some way out of what had become purgatory.

"Damn!" thought Penelope. "If only I had changed out of these Jimmy Choo high heeled slingback peep-toe pumps before we rushed off to the jungle."
[Maddog]
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"At least I was on the ball enough to remember to wear waterproof mascara. I'd fit right in with all these jungle animals had I not," Penelope thought. It was bad enough that she was starting to smell like them. What was Rodrigo going to think if and when they ever found each other again?

What had happened to him, anyway? Not a trace of him could be be found when Penelope had regained consciousness. Oh, and the map! Rodrigo had told her he was going to keep it somewhere no one could possibly think to find it. Did that mean it was somewhere on the plane or was it hidden somewhere on his lovely body (and where would that be?) "Hmmmmm....." thought Penelope dreamily. "I'd sure like to go on that search."

"Wake up, girl!" Penelope told herself. "This is no time for daydreaming! You've got to get out of this jungle before something makes you its dinner tonight."

Before that last thought had left her head, Penelope heard a strange noise. "I've heard a lot of things in this jungle so far," she said in a whisper to herself. "But nothing like that!"

[Susan]
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It was a grunting, snuffling sound, followed by a rumble and a rustling of the jungle foliage. Penelope's heart pounded... Just then, several wild pigs emerged from the underbrush, snorting and milling about. One made a hacking sound, and barfed up a piece of orange fabric. Rodrigo had been wearing an orange shirt! And now, apparently, he was shirtless...mmm....

Penelope snapped out of her daydream again and realized Rodrigo could be in danger. Had the pigs devoured him? The pig that had been sick wandered off in the direction he had come from, and the others followed. Penelope thought, "will these wild boars lead me to Rodrigo, or deeper into these mysterious and perilous woods?"

[Gwen]
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Penelope breathed a sigh of relief that the wild pigs had ignored her. As soon as they had disappeared into the undergrowth she followed, hoping that they would return to the place where one of them had ingested the orange fabric. She tracked them, guided by their grunting noises, maintaining a safe distance behind them, for about two hours. The thick vines and low-growing vegetation made the going difficult. It was made even more arduous by the swarms of flying insects and the discomfort of her lacey, fru fru, gossamer, one hundred dollar Victoria's Secret undies, which had become sweat-soaked and were riding up like Custer's cavalry. Just as she began to think she could go no farther she stumbled into a clearing. She stared in disbelief. There, in the deepest, most remote jungle in the Amazon Basin, was Starbucks. She rubbed her eyes and looked again. It was still there. She could see it in great detail. "Surely," she thought, this must be a mirage or a halucination!" Through the plate glass window she could see naked people, Indians, with ritual tattoos and decorative scarring on their bodies sitting at little round tables. There were feathers in their tangled hair and many had necklaces of jaguar teeth around their necks. One or two had bones in their noses. There were paper cups on small tables, most of which had bows and quivers of arrows propped against them. As she tried to take it all in, she spotted a figure, paler than the rest, wearing the remains of an orange shirt. It was Rodrigo! Penelope rushed through the door and, enveloped in the aroma of expresso coffee, cried, "Rodrigo! You're alive!"
[Maddog]
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As Rodrigo turned to the sound of her voice, Penelope began to feel woozy. "That is some powerful aroma, must be a special Amazon jungle blend," she reflected as she wobbled in her stilettos. Penelope's stomach roiled and she started to sweat. Then, the bells hanging on the door to the Starbuck's tinkled pleasantly indicating the entrance of a new customer. Penelope turned slowly and stared. She shook her head and blinked in confusion. Through the door had come a tall, handsome man, dressed in a white suit and his apparent sidekick, a dark-skinned little person, also in a white suit. Just before she passed out, Penelope heard the taller man address her in an accented voice, "Penelope, welcome to Fantasy Island!"
[Caroline]
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Above the Starbucks din and the clamoring that was now going on in Penelope's head, just before she hit the ground, she could hear ...
(A-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh)
(A-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh, a-weema-weh)
In the jungle, the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight.....
[Margaret]
_____________________

How long had it been since Penelope had passed out? She couldn't tell as she slowly gathered her senses. But as she began to focus, she realized that she had been placed in a rather ratty, overstuffed club chair, just like others she had sat in in hundreds of other Starbucks around the globe. "Yech!" she thought. She also found herself looking back at an array of faces, all of which were watching her intently.

"What happened?" she asked no-one in particular.

"You fainted when you came into the coffee shop," responded Rodrigo. "You had us worried. I'm sure that the combination of your exhaustion, the tension of having been lost, and the heavy smoke from the halucinogenic herbs the natives have been smoking must have gotten to you. In fact, I'm sure that the latter must have had something to do with you humming 'The Lion Sleeps Tonight' as you lost consciousness. After all, that's an African song and here we are in the bowels of the South American jungle!" He shook his head.

"How can there be a Starbucks here, of all places?" Penelope murmured, blinking to clear her head.

"Do you remember how Janet Reno dropped out of sight after the Clinton administration and her unsuccessful run for governor of Florida the following year? Well, she just wanted to get away. So she bought a Starbucks franchise in the Matto Grosso. If you look at the counter over there you'll see a tall, androgenous person. That's her. When you feel better I'll introduce you."

"And did I imagine Mr. Roark and Tatu?" she asked woozily.

"That's Ricardo Mantalban's little joke. He's been regular here ever since his Hollywood star status expired in the middle of an 'on location' shoot. The director and crew just packed up and left him. He pays a local Indian midget a latte or two to wear a white suit. It's his idea of humor."

"Nice to meet you," interjected Montalban. The midget had wandered off for another whiff of smoke.

"Rodrigo," Penelope said weakly, "as soon as I've rested a bit and had a few frappacinos with whipped cream and sprinkles we need to consult your map and decide whether to continue to pursue the treasure or try to find our way out of this verdant inferno and go home. We need a plan."
[Maddog]
________________
"Yes, we do need a plan," answered Rodrigo. "But first, I'd suggest you get a bath and some clean clothes. You're giving off a pretty gamey odor - one that even the smoke in here can't camouflage."

"Well! You're not smelling so pleasant either, Jungle Boy. And, we've got to find you a new shirt, although the whole ripped-shirt thing is reminding me of what you've got under there and what we could be doing instead of hanging around this coffee shop."
[susan]
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"For being such a "remote" location, this place seems to be pretty civilized. Next you'll be telling me that you've rented us a room at the Fairmont where we can get cleaned up, catch a few Zs, and fill our bellies with something other than pastries and liquid adrenaline," Penelope said laughingly.

"Well, actually it's a Motel 6 and dinner at McDonald's but it will do," Rodrigo said. "Let's get a move on before it gets dark. The natives tend to get restless after dark and I don't want to fall into a river of piranhas tonight. I heard the motel has satellite and I want to catch the Cowboy game!"

As they were walking out the door, Penelope traded one of the natives her Jimmy Choos for a few feathers and a necklace of jaguar teeth. She was sure that it would be an interesting conversation when the native brought the shoes home to his wife.

As they were walking out the door, Janet called to Rodrigo. Rodrigo returned to speak to barista Reno and then resumed walking out with Penelope. "What did Janet have to say and how did you get to know her, anyway?" Penelope asked.

"After we landed and got separated, I made my way through the jungle and found this place. Once I saw barista Reno, I thought she might be able to give me directions. Afterall, she directed the Justice Department. Besides, being the lone woman in a room full of men, it was only logical that she could tell me where to go."

"So," Penelope prodded. "Where are we going to next?"
[Margaret]
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Penelope and Rodrigo were taken aback to find that the Motel 6 and McDonalds that Janet Reno had referred them to were nothing more than a couple of hovels on stilts, made of sticks and grass. There was a faded sign in front of each. The hand-scrawled letters on the first sign said, "Motell Seis," and the second read, "Mackdonels." Penelope turned to Rodrigo and said, "I think we're still a long way from Sao Paulo!" She felt her heart sink.

When they entered Motell Seis they found an old Indian seated on the floor. Correctly assuming him to be the proprietor, Penelope asked about accomodations. The old man assured her that she and Rodrigo would have the best he had to offer. He gestured to a couple of piles of filthy rags on the floor. "Sleep there," he said. And, pointing to a gap between the sticks on the side of the hut, he proclaimed, "River view."

"Is there a bathroom, anywhere to bathe?" Penelope asked, dreading the answer. The old Indian handed her half a bar of yellow soap, hardened over years of non-use, and gestured toward the river. He gave her a gapped-toothed smile and said, "If someone use bathroom, be sure to bathe upriver."

Penelope tiptoed down to the edge of the river. Slipping out of her clothes she waded out into the murky, sluggish water. She could feel the mud of the river bottom ooze up through her toes. In spite of the warmth of the water, she shivered. Something unseen brushed across her thighs. She stifled a shriek. She thought she caught the movement of something reptilian slip into the water in the forest of tree roots across the river. "Bathing," she thought to herself, "is an overrated activity."
[Maddog]
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Penelope began to feel movement in the water and began to itch. She stepped out of the water to find than she was covered in leeches!! She called to Rodrigo, secretly hoping he wouldn't hear her, because really, what's less sexy than leeches? When she got back, she told herself, she was calling TLC. Surely her ordeal would earn her a shopping spree in New York with Stacy and Clinton...

"Penelope?" Rodrigo was calling her. "Penelope, are you o--AAAAAAEEEEIIIII!!!"

OMG! Rodrigo screamed like a little girl! This, along with his preference for bright orange shirts and green tea frappucinos was making Penelope question why she stayed with Rodrigo, other than that he was hot.
[Gwen]
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The sound of Rodrigo's scream attracted the attention of the old Indian innkeeper. In a single glance he took in the cowering Rodrigo and the leech-afflicted Penelope. "One moment," he said. In a few minutes he returned with an iguana hide flask. "Drink this," he directed.

Penelope took a deep drink. "Mon dieu! Sacre bleu! Holy goat s--t!" she gasped. "What in the name of all that's holy was that?" As she spoke she noticed that the leeches began to drop from her body. She also began to aquire a strong buzz.

"I cannot reveal the ingredients," the old man replied. "The formula was entrusted to me by my father, who was the tribal shaman, medicine man, guru and chief for many years. It is enough to know that there is no leech that can withstand its effect on their victim's blood."

It seemed to Penelope that she could suddenly see things in more detail, as if everything were in high definition. She turned to Rodrigo. "Has it occurred to you that all the natives are naked?" she asked. "And, come to think about it, so am I. I feel as if I'm on a Nature Channel special about the rain forest."

Rodrigo, having regained his composure, nodded. "You know," he said, "I did notice that, too. I read that, some years ago, National Geographic wanted to do a spread on these jungle tribes. They were concerned that some of their readers might complain if there were nudity in their pictures - however anthropologically accurate it might be - so they distributed athletic supporters to all the male tribe members. That didn't work, though. They were all so intrigued with the elastic that they made slingshots out of them instead of wearing something they thought was so silly."

"Well," said Penelope, "I've had more jungle than I hope to see in several lifetimes. As soon as I find the Versace frock I left down by the river I'm leaving with or without you. Give me the treasure map. If you don't want to go with me, I'll Fed Ex you your share when I get back to Sao Paulo." Brushing past a mute Rodrigo, she stalked off back toward the river.
[Maddog]
_______________________

Penelope fumed as she ran along naked with the jaguar teeth slapping against her cool skin . "What the hell am I doing here?" she thought.

By nature a quiet, type-A personality, Penelope secretly longed for adventure, romance...hot sex with a yummy man who spoke with a latin accent. However, she never thought of herself as the woman to be cast in such a fantasy. Yes, she regularly worked out, using her Chuck Norris endorsed Wonder Machine 2000. And she used the shampoo and conditioner the t.v. promised would give her shiny, fruit smelling hair and get her laid, too. But, she was still just Penelope with her dowdy wardrobe, her sensible shoes and her companion, Bob, the cat. That all changed, however, when she went to the embassy function. There she met Rodrigo, Senor Yummy. "Why, oh, why couldn't I have had fantasies about an accountant from Laramie, Wyoming," Penelope wailed as she reflected on her predicament. "Then I wouldn't be in such a pickle."

Just as Penelope neared the river, she heard heavy breathing. She turned to the sound and saw that Rodrigo had caught up with her. He looked rather pale, as if he might pass out from the exertion. Penelope was seeing Rodrigo in a new light. No longer did she think of him as Senor Yummy, her latin lover extraordinaire. She now saw a wheezing, weenie who couldn't even come to her rescue in the river nor comment on her high definition sexiness in her current naked state.

"Penelope, wait!" Rodrigo gasped. Sucking in some air, he rushed on. "I want you to have the map, no Fed Ex promises attached. These past few months have been fun but I have to be honest. I tried the Latin lover thing and it's just not me. I have decided that I want to run naked with the natives and drink lattes with Janet Reno." He handed her the map, blew her a kiss, waved ta-ta and wandered back into the jungle.

Penelope just stared after him. "When I get home I am canceling my Cosmo subscription. All their advice about the power of fantasizing and look what that's gotten me!" she said to no one in particular. Then, she turned around and collected what was left of her dress. Seeing that it was rather shredded, she quickly ripped it up further and made a few adjustments.
Fortunately, she was a big fan of the HGTV network back home and had learned a thing or two about making something old look new. Soon she was sporting the latest in Versace jungle wear, accesorized with her jaguar teeth necklace.

Somewhat clothed, alone and holding a treasure map, Penelope planned what to do next.

[Caroline]
______________________
Penelope glanced at the map in her hand and made the decision to follow the river. As she turned to begin her trek, she thought she heard someone say her name. Shaking her head, she was sure she was starting to go crazy. But wait, there it was again...

"Penelope! Pen...el...op...eeee!!!"

Suddenly, the ground started to shake. She started to shake. Back forth, back and forth, she was forcefully shaken.

"Penelope! WAKE UP ALREADY!"

"Whaaa?!??" responded Penelope groggily. Slowly, she woke. She looked around and saw that she was in her apartment. In bed. Tangled up in her sheets. Naked. She recalled her dream and shuttered. "Thank God that wasn't real," she said to herself.

"Must have been some dream!" Her roommate said. "No more late night vodkas for you, especially the night before a convention. Now, hurry up! We're going to be late for our flight if you don't get moving."

"Where are we going again?" Asked Penelope, still in a fog from her nocturnal fantasy.

"Are you serious?" Her roommate replied. "That really must have been some dream... We're going to Laramie. For the convention? The accounting convention? Hello, Penelope. Let's get moving!"

[susan]
________________

It took several hours for the effects of the leech-killing potion to wear off. In her semi-consious state, Penelope halucinated that she was at home, but it wasn't home, it was a crude jungle dwelling. She felt relieved that her roommate was there, only to see her turn into an old Indian crone with a toothless smile and tangled hair. She escaped to Laramie in excited anticipation of meeting a hot accountant but just as she approached a handsome bean counter he was snatched away by a crocodile. She tossed and turned with her grotesque nightmare until she finally regained her senses. Even though she was in the jungle where the temperature was a hundred degrees and the humidity was seventy percent she found that she was covered in a cold sweat.

When she was able to stand steadily, the sympathetic tribespeople fed her a nourishing meal of grilled beetles and crude beer. It wasn't long until she felt sufficiently recovered to resume her journey. Janet Reno was kind enough to advance Penelope a fifty-dollar Starbucks gift card which she in turn bartered for a battered, old canoe. Soon, she was on her way up river, hoping to find one of the landmarks indicated on the map to confirm that she was headed in the right direction.

Later, as Penelope paddled up the sluggish, murky river, another canoe containing two Indians passed her going the opposite direction. Moments later, one Indian addressed the other. "Now there's something you don't see everyday."

"What do you mean?" asked his companion.

"A white woman in a designer thong paddling along in a leaky boat."

"Who'd a thought!" the second Indian said.
[Maddog]
___________________

As Penelope paddled furiously, getting nowhere fast, she tried to keep her somewhat muddied mind on the goal. She might not have the man but she had the map and X marked the spot of the secret location of the cache of golden objects. To keep her mind off the piranhas leaping around her, just waiting for her canoe to capsize, she tried to picture what the golden objects could be. Of course, her mind went straight to jewelry, beautifully crafted accessories that would compliment her designer frocks. Maybe she could make a fortune selling her treasures on eBay.

While Penelope was distracted by her musings, a big black water snake snuck it's way into the canoe. As it started to wind its way around Penelope's ankles she was ripped from her reverie. Penelope screamed, and the canoe ran aground. She scrambled out and started hurdling tree roots and other foilage like Marion Jones. Out of breath, she stopped to get her bearings.

She heard the trees rustling and twigs snapping and turned to see a dark skinned man wearing a loincloth, holding a vine in his hand. Although her first thought was Tarzan, she quickly corrected her thinking since Tarzan was raised by apes in Africa. Who was this mysterious man and was he friend or foe?

He spoke abruptly. "Woman. Many speak of a white woman wearing little clothing running around the jungle. I am Nazrat. Who are you and why are you here?"

Although not warm and fuzzy, he seemed to be more friend than foe. In a tenative voice, Penelope said, "I am Penelope and I am searching for a hidden cache of golden objects. I have this map but am lost. Can you read a map?"

Nazrat looked at the map and then turned it over. "This map says made in China. I don't think it is going to lead you to the treasure you seek."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Penelope shouted. "That Rodrigo is a nimrod! Now what do I do?" she wailed.
[Margaret]
____________

Penelope couldn't believe what the stranger had said. All of her frustrations suddenly welled up inside her and she could feel her hands become fists and her jaws clench. "Gimme that map!" she exploded. Before he could react she snatched the map from the stranger and examined the back. "This doesn't say made in China! It's just some kind of undecipherable gobbledegook, probably the name of the person who made the map! Was that your idea of a joke, or are you illiterate? I don't know who you are, Mr. Rat, but I don't think I want to!"

"Naz," the stranger said. "You can call me Naz."

"No. I don't plan to hang around. Where did I leave that bleeding canoe?" Penelope spun around on her heel and marched back toward the river.

"Wait!" called Nazrat. "We got off on the wrong foot. It's just that you can't kid the local Indians. They're a very serious bunch. Their only interest, as far as I can tell, is head hunting. So I guess the sight of a white woman made me a little reckless. Let me make it up to you. C'mon over for dinner; it's too late for you to get back on the river today anyway."

Penelope turned and eyed the man suspiciously. Perhaps she could enlist him as an ally in her search. It wouldn't hurt to have someone to do the heavy lifting. "Where do you live?" she asked.

"I have a comfortable tree house about a mile from here," he responded. "It's just me and the monkeys. One of them, Sergei, is trained cosmetologist. Thank God for that," he added. "I wouldn't be able to do my bi-weekly full body wax by myself. Without it the natives could mistake me for a large, tailless monkey, swinging from tree to tree. I'd probably wind up on the business end of a poison dart." He looked at Penelope's feet. "You could use a pedicure," he added. "Sergei does pedicures, too."

Penelope paused, then responded cautiously, "Well, OK. But no more bad jokes... or any other kind of funny business. Got that, Mr. Rat?"
[Maddog]
______________________

Penelope couldn't believe that she agreed to follow this Tarzan wanna-be back to his home nestled in the remote reaches of the Amazon jungle for a spa treatment given by a primate. What was she thinking?

As she followed Nazrat through the jungle, Penelope mused, "Did I get bitten by some kind of bug that has impaired my judgement? Am I so driven by my lust for this hottie that I will follow him anywhere? Good grief! Who am I?"

Then she did a mental head slap! "I am in the Amazon far from home! I can be anyone I want to be! Who am I? I am an adventuress in a sweet little thong, sweat glistening on my tight bod, accompanying this chiseled, dark skinned hunk to his home! Wonder Woman, Xena, Lara Croft, step aside. Here comes Penelope!"

Before she knew it they were nearing Nazrat's tree house, which was good given that Penelope had not developed a fondness for things that crawled, slithered and scampered along unseen. Lost in her thoughts and her view of Nazrat's tight loin-cloth covered (just barely) tush, Penelope crashed into him when he stopped suddenly. "Well, here we are! Home, sweet, home!" Nazrat said.

As Penelope brushed the leaves and dirt from her thong, she looked up and couldn't believe her eyes.
[Caroline]
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Penelope was standing in front of a 50 foot tall Velvet tree. Although she had never seen one in person, she knew exactly what it was. The large green leaves that were dark green on the top and purple on the bottom with veins running through each leaf. It was covered with purple fruit and beautiful white and pink flowers. Not only was this tree that Nazrat called home beautiful, it was also one of the landmarks on her map!

Surely Nazrat knew of the cache of golden objects she sought. How could he not if his home was a landmark. But before she began grilling him she was going to get that pedicure. She could think so much more clearly when her toenails had been buffed and polished. She was hoping, too, that Sergei would use the hot stones and parafin wax. Once you had those treatments, any other pedicure was inferior.

As she stood there, Penelope wondered how they were going to get up to Nazrat's penthouse in the Velvet tree. Heck if she was going to do any climbing. Just then, something akin to a dumb waiter came zipping down the side of the tree.

"Hop in and hang on," Naz said. Penelope was hanging on for dear life as they shot into the air.
[Margaret]
__________________

Penelope stepped out of the basket onto a platform fashioned from woven limbs. At the back of the platform was a door to a large tree house. "How does that thing work?" she asked, gesturing toward the elevator basket.

"Monkey power," replied Nazrat. He held out a small object that hung from a thong around his neck. "When I approach my home I simply blow on this silent dog whistle and my little friends gather to pull on the rope. They'll do anything for the day-old low-fat blueberry coffeecake that I occasionally get down river at Starbucks."

"Very clever... and exploitative, I might add," Penelope commented. Then, "I suppose it's too much to hope that you have something to eat other than grilled insects and tree bark," she asked.

In a few moments, she found herself sitting in a jungle version of an Adirondac chair while her host rubbed two sticks together to get a fire started. As she waited she gazed about the room. On a shelf at the back of the treehouse she noticed a small decorative object. Intrigued, she stood, reached over and picked it up. It was quite heavy. She stepped into the fading light to get a better look. It was a jaguar. She turned it over to examine it. It was black, but as she looked she noticed a scratch on the underside. The scratch caught the light and flashed bright gold!

"Uh, I like your little jaguar," Penelope called to Nazrat. "Where did you get it?"

"After we eat and you have your pedicure I'll tell you about it. It's an interesting story. Meanwhile, I have something for you. Here."

"What is this icky stuff?"

"Well, far be it from me to stare at an unclothed woman but I couldn't help but notice that you are covered with pink polka dots. Unless it's some kind of strange cultural body art I assume that you've been the victim of flying jungle insects. This will repel them. It's a salve made of pureed river slugs. You may have seen one or two. They're a gelatinous grey color and about the size of a bratwurst. One word of caution, however. It has a distinct odor that may attract scavengers. They have a nose for anything that suggests carrion."

Penelope tried not to gag. "I'll try it later. Let's try to eat and get back to talking about where you found the jaguar."

"Better yet," responded Nazrat, "I'll show you tomorrow."
[Maddog]
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As Penelope wandered around Nazrat’s penthouse, waiting for the promised dinner and pedicure, she wondered, "Who is this mysterious man?"

In actuality, Nazrat, nee Fred Smith, was an aenemic, sundeprived, accounting geek from Laramie, Wyoming. Twelve years ago, sensing that his life lacked adventure and spontaneity, he took a sabbatical and signed up for an archeology dig for amateurs in the Amazon, a dig that was to be led by the famous Dr. Wingnut, archeologist extraordinaire. “What could be more adventurous?" he thought.

While exploring the Amazon on a break from the dig, he came across a souvenir hut run by tribal natives selling treasure maps. These particular natives and their small community were struggling to compete financially with the nearby tribe that owned the property on which the Starbucks was located. By selling the maps and the dream of finding treasure, the natives got the unsuspecting tourist to help support their economy.

Little did the natives know that one of the maps they had sold was the real thing. The catch was, however, that the map was actually comprised of two pieces, separated long ago. To find the treasure the mapholder first had to find the person with the other piece of the map (the other map, of course, had been hidden for years in the leatherbound chest). On a lark, Fred bought a map and began to follow it. Once he came across the velvet tree, he began to wonder if he didn’t have the real map. So on a whim, Fred decided to ditch the dig, abandon his accounting job altogether, shed his tie and tighty whities and trade it all in for a loin cloth. He let his hair grow and the sun darken his skin. He made friends with the monkeys and adopted the moniker of Nazrat after his jungle hero, Tarzan. He had been searching for the cache for years, determined to find it. Little did he know that the naked truth was staring him in the face and looking quite ravenous.

As Penelope continued to wonder about her host, she drew the map Rodrigo had given her from her bikini-like top. She carefully unfolded the ratty piece of vellum, holding it up for a better look. She turned to face the setting sun and the rays of light lit up the translucent paper. Suddenly, she heard a startled gasp.

"So that's why I have been searching the jungle for more than a decade. I only had part of the information!" said Nazrat.

When Penelope looked at him questioningly, Nazrat explained, "Our maps fit together to make one. I realized the true nature of the map when I saw you holding yours up to the light. If we take our two maps and hold them up to the light and then slide one on top of the other until we get a perfect fit, the location of the treasure will be revealed!"

[Margaret and Caroline]
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"But first," Nazrat continued, "I need to know the answer to another, equally baffling mystery."

"Whazzat?" Penelope asked.

"Where did you get that bikini-like top in which to hide your map? You didn't have it a little while ago."

"Oh," Penelope responded. "It wasn't a bikini top. It was the map itself. There are no pockets in a home made Versace-remnant thong, so I folded the map into a top just to have someplace to put it. Running around in the all together has it's drawbacks. Where in the heck do you put things?"

"Gee, I never thought of that," Nazrat said. "I've always had my monkey friends to carry stuff for me when I have to go somewhere."

"Be that as it may," Penelope interjected sternly. "Let's talk about this treasure thing. You were going to tell me where you found the jaguar. I won't be coy... I think it's solid gold and is perhaps part of the golden cache that brought me, however unadvisedly, to this crummy rainforest." She paused and thought about her situation. It seemed as if, after all she had been through, she was about to hit the jackpot. And, as a bonus, she had found Nazrat, aka Fred Smith. An accountant! She couldn't believe it! "Wow!" she thought.

As they gazed at their combined maps, held up to what was left of the daylight, Nazrat began to tell Penelope about where and how he found the jaguar. Somehow, she felt, his narrative would provide a vital clue that would augment the information on the maps.
[Maddog]
__________________

As they settled into Nazrat's faux Adirondac chairs made of dried vines, Penelope gazed at the monkey man. Her mind raced. "Could this be it? Could he be the one? Surely it's kismet... my soujourn in Sao Paulo leading to Rodrigo leading to the map leading to our decision to seek the treasure leading to the crash into the river leading to Rodrigo's departure leading to my decision to go it alone leading to finding this beautiful man. Well, OK, he's a little short for me, but so what. When we go out I'll just wear flats and crouch a little bit." Before he launched into his story of how he'd acquired the golden jaguar, she began to inquire about his background, his life as an accountant, his ambitions. She learned that his favorite reading material was the U.S. federal tax code - any of the twenty three volumes, plus annual additions and amendments - and that, were he to have two male children he would name them LIFO and FIFO. Accounting was in his blood. In fact, he divulged, he had even taught Sergei (who seemed to be the brightest of his simian companions) most of accountancy's Generally Accepted Principles. He was doing a stint with one of the Big Eight accounting firms as a member of the Enron auditing team when he suddenly found it expedient to leave on the archeological dig in the Amazon. His archeological pursuits seemed to mirror his success as an accountant in that there are virtually no archeological sites in the Amazon. There were no advanced Indian societies in the jungle, and anything built of sticks and thatch were long ago turned into mulch and reabsorbed by the rain forest. His favorite fictional character was The Count on Sesame Street, and when Penelope asked him what he would be if he weren't a human being, he answered enthusiastically that he would be a Texas Instruments 735si electronic programmable calculator.

Penelope worried a little bit about the revelation that Nazrat needed to have Sergei give him a full body wax every other week. Or was it twice a week? She couldn't remember. She wondered what he would look like without that particular cosmetic enhancement. But that was a minor impediment to true love. She had always believed that everyone had a soulmate, somewhere. After all, her friend Stella, who thought she had found her one and only on a space mission only to see her heart broken, had at last found, and married, her heart's delight: her employer at a detective agency. He was a middle aged, ex-prize fighter who drank too much and whose business was perpetually on the rocks, but it didn't matter. He was the one. "So what," Penelope thought, "does a little body hair matter when love's involved?"

Penelope snapped out of her reverie as Nazrat began his story of how and where he found the golden Jaguar.
[TA]
_____________________
Penelope gazed at Nazrat, lulled by his raspy voice, a result of smoking in his years as an accountant and then more than a decade of trying to perfect his Tarzan-like bellow. He was just getting his story going when Penelope's pragmatic side grabbed her and yanked her back into reality. "What were they going to do if and when they found the golden jaguar's companions?" she thought.

"Wait!" Penelope yelled, startling Nazrat. "Have you thought about what happens once we have the cache in hand? We can't exactly take the treasure over to Janet at the local Starbucks and trade it for a life time supply of coffee and pastries. Besides, the pastries tend to be a little on the dry side. And do you really think that we can bring it to the Archeological Society of the Amazon and expect them to smile, thank us and then offer us a reward that will keep us comfortable for the rest of our lives far away from this God-forsaken jungle? What's more, despite what the cable home decorating shows suggest, redoing your tree house in gold accents will not change our lives, not for the good at any rate. I don't trust those monkey friends of yours. I think they would sell us out to the first local, headhunting Indian or blood-thirsty tourist who mentions the cache of golden objects. So, my little, hairy love, just what are we going to do when we get to X marks the spot?"
[Caroline]
______________________

"Damn!" exclaimed Nazrat. "And us with no pockets!"
[Maddog]
________________________

"Let's not worry now about what we're going to do when we get there," Nazrat suddenly told Penelope. "We've got to get there first. Speaking of which, we need to get moving. My story will have to be told enroute."

"Well, whistle for your monkeys, then, and have them lower us down. But how are we going to make our way through the jungle at night?" Inquired Penelope.

"Funny you should ask," replied Nazrat. "Here, put these on."

"What are these?" Penelope asked.

"They're Discovery Night Vision Goggles with Dart Launcher - just in case we get attacked. I found a great deal on them online at the Discovery store. I'm sure they'll work great - everything at the Discovery store is completely authentic."

Penelope put on her night vision goggles (with dart launcher) and adjusted them. She scanned the area around them and screamed...

[Susan]
______________
with excitement. About 200 yards ahead was another landmark on their combined maps. On the side of a large stone was some crude graffiti. There was a big arrow and the words "Tesouro, desta forma." Apparently the ancient tribespeople were advanced in their use of paint that was invisible to the naked eye.

"Thank goodness for these night vision goggles," Penelope said. "Gotta love the internet and, of course, Fed Ex who can deliver anywhere!"

As the pair headed in the direction the arrow pointed, Penelope wondered if Nazrat was ever going to get on with his story about finding the golden jaguar. This whole jungle thing was a lark (her BFFs back home would never believe her) and Nazrat was certainly the little, hairy man of her dreams, but she was missing her Jimmy Choos and her closet full of Versace outfits. It is such a faux pas to wear the same outfit, or lack thereof, everyday. And her hair! Georges was going to be more than a little miffed at what her hair had been through.

As they trooped onward, she started to sing...

The jungle is alive with the sound of music
With songs they have sung for a thousand years
The jungle fills my heart with the sound of music
My heart wants to sing every song it hears...

Nazrat stopped abruptly. "What is that noise coming out of you, woman? Do you want to wake the dead? Besides, some of the jungle creatures are less than friendly when they have been rudely awaken from sleep."

"Ok, ok," Penelope said. "Just trying to keep up our spirits as we forge ahead. So why don't you tell me how you found the golden jaguar and I really don't want to hear some story about how you found it in a souvenior hut."

"Actually, it was the darndest thing. I was swinging around on the vines, playing tag with Sergei, and lost my grip. I rocketed to the ground and landed on what I thought was a rock. It was actually the jaguar. I still have a jaguar-shaped bruise on my left buttock. Wanna see?"

"We don't have time for this!" Penelope exclaimed as Nazrat grinned wolfishly.

She went on, "Do you remember where you found the jaguar? Maybe it's close the next landmark on our map! If we don't get a move on, we'll never finish this story! Afterall, I'm thinking of writing a book about our adventures."
[Margaret]
____________________

"As a matter of fact," said Nazrat, "we're pretty much standing on the spot where I fell."

Penelope looked around but there was no evidence of treasure. "Rats!" she thought. Dejected, she slumped down onto the rock with the mysterious markings and put her head in her hands. Suddenly, she became aware of a strange sensation. Her first thought was that the exertion and disappointment had made her a bit woozy, but quickly she realized that the rock upon which she was sitting was moving. At first the movement was almost imperceptible but it clearly was increasing. Penelope jumped to her feet just as a fissure in the floor of the jungle opened and the rock tumbled down into the abyss.

She and Nazrat peered over the edge into the blackness. It was impossible to tell how deep the pit was or what might be at the bottom, so Penelope illuminated her goggles. Nazrat followed suit. The light weakened as it plunged into the earth but there was just enough illumination to catch the glint of gold. "Naz! uh, Fred!" .... Look!" Penelope gasped. "I think we've found the treasure!"

Nazrat climbed a nearby tree with an alacrity a monkey would envy and, with a knife he carried tucked under the thong around his waist that held up his loincloth, cut free a stout vine. Back on the ground, he anchored one end of the vine to a tree and dropped the other into the hole. Without discussion, he and Penelope climbed into the void. After what seemed an eternity and at the very moment Penelope felt that her aching arms couldn't support her any longer they reached the bottom. There, laid out before them was a vast store of golden objects. In the light of their goggles it gave the cavern into which they had descended a soft metallic, yellow glow.

Penelope stared at the vast treasure, slack jawed. She felt as if she had to pee. She'd done it! She'd found the fabulous hoard of gold that had remained hidden for centuries. She was rich! She glanced at Nazrat. He looked stunned. Soon, the reality of their situation began to sink in. Here they were, down in a hole in the middle of a trackless jungle, looking at a couple of thousand pounds of gold. And not a pocket between them. "What are we going to do now?" she wailed, as much to herself as to Nazrat.

Nazrat smiled. "Not to worry, my mosquito-bitten little cabbage," he replied. He raised the whistle on the thong around his neck to his lips. Eyes bulging and cheeks inflated, he gave a mighty blow. Suddenly the cavern was filled with monkeys.

The events that followed seemed almost a blur: slogging and canoeing back to Starbucks for stale blueberry coffee cake for the monkeys and to borrow clothes from Janet Reno (all Janet could spare was a scratchy wool suit... without undies between her and the tweed fabric, in the jungle with sauna-like humidity and one hundred degree heat, Penelope longed to be back in her birthday suit) and Ricardo Montalban (Nazrat looked very natty in white); the monkey safari through the rain forest to the trading post where they were able to make radio contact with the airplane rental company; the rendezvous with the plane and loading the treasure onto the aircraft; and, at last, the flight back to Sao Paulo.

Leaning back in her window seat, Penelope slipped her hand under her tweed jacket and scratched. Turning to Nazrat (she couldn't get used to calling him Fred) she said, reflectively, "..............
[Maddog]
___________________
"Do you think Sergei is enjoying the goggles we left him?"

"Absolutely," Nazrat replied. "But there's going to be a monkey uprising if he doesn't quit shooting his cousins in the ass with those darts."

"No offense to Sergei, but I won't mind if I never see another monkey again," Penelope sighed as she settled in for the ride.

A look of panic crossed Nazrat's face... "She has no idea just how much like a monkey I look like when I haven't kept up with my wax treatments," he thought. "Then again, with my new found wealth I'll be able to afford permanent laser hair removal."

Nazrat turned in his seat to gaze at his lover as she began drifting off to sleep.

"Whatever our souls our made of... hers and mine are the same," he thought.

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

~Finis~

[Susan]