Please note: The following is 100% fiction.  All character are fictional.  Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.

Holy Cripes!  It's TED Farkel.  I should have known that a brain-dead money making scheme like Maharaji's Magic Boxes would get TED to come out of the woodwork angling for a way to bring revenue to TRAC.

TED, I've got to tell how about eDrek.  Ok?  Now get ready.

He's DEAD, TED. DEAD!  Yes, he's better than DEAD.  He's pushing up daisies.  He's at the bottom feeding carp and crawdads.  Kaput.  Finito.

And, TED, it's all your fault.  Well, that's what Roger's ex-wife, Chastina, wants me to say.  You see, TED, Roger and Chastina eDrek were driving home one night from a real wing-dinging party at the Rez. Rog had had one too many cognacs with Prem and the Jag was just a little too powerful and a little too fast as it headed down Trancas.

Besides, just between you and me, TED, Chastina was on Rog's case about not paying enough attention to her.  And in Southern California and Malibu more than anywhere else, a man paying attention to his woman means jewelry, boob jobs, botox, tummy tucks, shopping sprees on Rodeo Drive and weekend get-aways to either Cabo or the San Juan Islands in the Puget Sound depending on season.  Well, Rog wasn't doing enough of that and Chastina was sick and tired of the excuses.  And Chastina was giving old Dreky boy an ear full.

And, the problem, TED, was that Drek was broke.  He was dead broke and he owed everybody in town including Raja Ji.  Seemed that fancy stereo that Drek had to buy Raja Ji as an incentive for Raja Ji accepting an invitation to visit TRAC was not as good as Raja wanted.  Drek tried to save some money by buying last year's model at a closeout sale.  But, Anne Johnson knew the score about stereos and she gave Raja Ji the wake up call.  Well, we all know what audiophile quality gear costs, right?  Yeah, you could buy a forty acre farm in Shaft.  And Raja Ji was just trying to keep up with the Joneses who happened to be Prem Rawat and that puts it even further out of reach.

Drek was up the wall and he couldn't even afford the payments on Chastina's BMW and when that got repo'd that was about all she wrote.  Well, not that Chastina didn't have wheels anymore.  Oh, no, that wasn't about to happen.  She went straight up the hill to Hertz in Thousand Oaks and rented a new Dodge Magnum with her credit card.  "He's not going to get away with this", she said.

It seemed that eDrek had over extended himself trying to put together the Holy Family Action figure set.  The advances for R&D and all the monthly trips to TRAC took a heavy toll on both eDrek's wallet and his liver.  And then there was that neck injury that eDrek suffered when trying to wrestle David Smith away from those 55 gallon drums he was beating on all night long that was keeping everybody awake for days and days.  The pain never went away and Dr. John Horton was over-prescribing powerful pain medication because he knew that eDrek would not accept a simple "Practice Nectar technique as much as you can" remedy.

eDrek and Chastina were hurdling down Trancas Canyon Road headed for the new Starbucks there for a triple shot latte with soy milk to keep old eDrek awake for the long trip to Marina Del Rey so they could spend the night aboard Drek's yacht, the Serendipity.  The plan was to motor down to San Diego to catch the Superbowl in style and then off for a week or so down in Mexico near a sleepy little cove near Puerto Vallarta where the surfing was always good.  And what a great place it was because there were no shops for Chastina to spend money at.  But, let’s get back to that Starbucks where Drek was determined to get to before the cutoff hour of midnight.  This Starbucks was well situated Hotspot and Drek needed to get a bet down on Saturday night's Lakers game.  That stubby pit bull of a lawyer for Kobe was at the party and she was pretty optimistic that the whole Eagle, Colorado rape case was going to simply go away like it never happened and that made Drek feel really good about Kobe and Lakers beating Shaq and the Miami Heat.

The Jaguar was a fast and powerful, but the handling was not that of a Porsche or even a Mercedes.  Everyone was buying them because they had become affordable.  Chastina was in non-stop mode and the complaints came like spewing out like angry hornets out of the nest one after another after another.  On and on she went.  Drek was trying his best to stay on Holy Name and do the Nectar technique that Dr. John had suggested he do.  Holy Name, Holy Name, Holy Name.  Pushed on a swing.  Pushed on a swing.  So hum, so hum, so hum.  But, the cognac and pills got the better of him and Drek in perfect premie fashion took his hands off the wheel of the Jag and started talking with his hands and out from his mouth came the following:

“Chastina, I'm telling you for the last time.  I'm doing the best I can.  I'm not perfect, for Christ's sake.  I leave perfection to Maharaji.  I'm just Drek, that's all I am, baby.  Why can't you understand that? Why can’t you just let me be?  Why can’t you just have some trust and faith that we’ll get the grace and everything will work out?”

And then it happened.

Yes, the end came for Roger eDrek when the Jag missed a turn and headed out into space with that nauseous roller coaster feeling you get in the pit of your stomach. The car with Roger and Chastina went off the side of the hill and down into the canyon.  Because Drek wanted to always have faith in God he never wore a seat belt and with the sunroof open he just popped out of that car and flew like a bird until he smacked into the side of a Eucalyptus tree.  When his head hit that tree it sounded just like dropping a bowling ball onto the wooden lane.  But unlike a bowling ball Drek’s head broke open just like a Honey Dew melon and out poured his life, his blood, and broken pieces of his brain. Meanwhile, on the inside where it really matters Roger saw a flash of brilliant light that lasted just one tiny fraction of a nanosecond and then it was over.  But for Roger that light was all that he could have ever wanted.  The Light.  Thank god for the Light.

The car continued to roll down the hill until it was finally slowed down by the deep brush.  Chastina, without a scratch on her, got out of the car and screamed, “Roger, fuck you, you bastard.  I hate you!  I'm the one who hates life and who wants to die.  And now look what’s happened!  You son-of-a-bitch!”

So, TED, that’s the story.  And in Roger’s will he had asked that I take over his website and I have.  It’s funny because I was never a premie and I only knew Roger for that one year he went to college before he dropped out and got Maharaji’s Knowledge.  But, after reading everything about Roger I’m sorta glad that he’s dead.

And Chastina is doing ok, too.  It seems that one of the enterprising Malibu premies who worked at the Rez made his spending money by selling premies life insurance and Roger was always such a sucker for that kind of thing that he was able to leave Chastina with a pretty good sum.  And upon her huge windfall Chastina was quickly approached by one of the inner circle women who was always working with the big donors.  Chastina saw it for what it was and quietly slipped out of town.  And now Chastina is spending most of her time in Italy in the loving arms of a very attractive young soap opera star there.

But, now, TED, if you really think there is some money I think we could take a meeting.