The bureaucrat at the Federal Department of Corrections, your typical Affirmative Action hire with roots on some slaveholder's plantation in Mississippi, could not believe what he was reading. Of course, he could barely read the letter, which began: "I, Rabbi Dovid Schmoigerman Goldman, hereby am konfessing det I am fraudmaching every day 898522448522 welfare chekkelach fin der Government of der United States fin Americhke of which I is no longer a subjekt, having declared independence mayn Republik fin Creedmoor a yohr tzurik. I am volunterily returnink to you tzen hinnert fin mayn chekelach for exchange a sentence and title deed fin der greatest of all prizzens, Elkatraz."
"Betweena, look at dis, sista! Dis Jew rabbi wanna go to Alkatraz!" Yes, this bureaucrat's supervisor's name really was Betweena Rock, and the story went that when a passing motorist saw an abandoned baby left alongside a boulder located a stone's throw from an interstate highway in Florida, he left her at the hospital, saying only that "I found her between a rock and a hard place!"
"Alkatraz? Man, you be crazy! Dat place be closed for yeers!" "No, he be crazy! Dis letter be comin' from Creeeeeeedmooor, over dere in Noo Jack City!"
"Well. dere ain't much we can do wid no prizzoners from Creedmoor kuz you'z gotta be crazy to live dere, an' no way we can get no confesshun outa no crazy man! Trow dat letter in da garbage, man, and less go take anudder break!"
"OK, sissa!"
However, the two bunglers were, as always, completely incompetent. Of course, they did not read the entire letter. It ended as follows: "If you mach nisht kyne enser to me immediate, I go anyway to Elkatraz and conker it for myne Independent Republik!"
By this time, everyone in Creedmoor was well aware that the Admou"r was in no way a legitimate psychiatric patient, and that his antics were designed only to allow him to commit Federal, State and municipal crimes on a level unheard of in the annals of such misdeeds. So, he was not restrained anymore, but rather free to leave the premises via a hole in the fence of his "Kiryas Naye Creedmoor," a/k/a the former recreation area of D-ward.
So, dressed as usual in a tinfoil bekeshe and shtreimel, the Admou"r was whisked to a limousine that originated from a printing press in Rego Park that might have well been renamed "Three Dollar Bill's Printing," and registered to "Va'ad Hanarronim d'Creedmoor, Rego Park Branch." All of a sudden, the bekeshe was replaced by an Armani suit, and the Admou"r took a first class seat on a flight to San Francisco.
Upon his arrival, he was met by yet another limousine, registered to "California Friends of Creedmoor," which was stocked with no fewer than twelve forty pound bags of a substance sold at many garden stores and referred to politely as "organic fertlizer." Of course, this is the very foundation of Creedmoor, and the Admou"r, now once again dressed in tin foil, was very pleased to be traveling with it in his limo.
And above Alcatraz Island, a helicopter was dumping loads of the same substance onto the island, with notices that Alcatraz was about to be occupied by the Creedmoor Liberation Front, an anarchist group that does not recognize the sovereignty of the United States of America over Alcatraz.
Now, San Francisco is a very liberal minded place, and anarchy is often a cause of the week there. So, when the tour guides who now populate Alcatraz smelled the fertilizer and saw the leaflets, they were immediately sympathetic as they figured an environmentalist-anarchist protest group was taking over the island.
So, their leader, Lilac Blossom Prunepit-McCall, the daughter of 60's protesters who raised her on a commune not far from Haight-Ashbury, decided to surrender to the Creedmoor forces, and she simply left the keys on her desk and the door to her office wide open.
And the Admou"r arrived on the island bearing yet more manure, which he spread around the office so as to pass once again for an escaped mental patient. He also busted open the safe and removed cash paid by tourists who had come to see the former prison.
But now, the gates to the prison would read "Velkom tzi Elkatraz! Mir accepten food shtempelach and Creedmoor gelt! Shacharis 6.30 PM, Mincha 8.30 PM, Maariv iz a Tzioini plot and is ossur here!" "Velfare Office to your Right! Skedule a Yechidis on your Left (never mind that the sign pointed to a Porta-Potti; the Admou"r's plans were far past the level of simple phony rebbeschaft and actually included the construction of a large duty free shopping mall and money laundry, now that Alcatraz was no longer US property but rather belonged to the Republik fin Independent Creedmoor)."
But first and foremost, a box from a major computer company had to be opened; it contained a state of the art server hooked up to a brand new laser printer. And it took the Admou'r's expert team little time to insert the Photoshop graphic used to print the famous currency of Creedmoor - the food shtempele, in 3, 7, 11, 2658, and 89625 shtemp denominations, now bearing the legend "Elkatrez Is Ours!"
Meanwhile, back in Washington DC, experts were stymied. There was little that could be done when a certified mental patient, whose Independent Republic had just been given a "Destroyers of Zionism" award by the Islamic Republic of Iran, took over a prison to which he should have been sentenced in any case given his massive fraud schemes.
And to celebrate, the Admou"r invited two of his best friends for yechidus. Their names are Moshe Aryeh Friedman and his dear partner in removing Israel from the map with a Ginsu knife, the one and only Mahmoud Ahmedinejad.
