The Dude noticed that his daughter was out of soda, and his drink was gone too, so he stopped. "Let me get you another lemon lime, and I will get a cola. I will try to fit in where your mother comes into all this, because I can see that you are getting frustrated again." "Thank you," said Artemisia, "I was getting thirsty. It sounds like your friend Walter really has a temper." "That he does. He has been in jail, and in court ordered counseling at the VA for his short fuse. He was in Vietnam, and there are things that happened there that really haunt him. He tries to connect everything in the world to that even when they are not related, and gets all bent out of shape. I think he is calming down as he gets older, though."

"How about Donny?" The dude paused, and looked sad, then spoke. "Sadly, Donny is no longer with us. When those damn Germans showed up demanding money even though they did not have Bunny to start with, Donny was really scared. He was willing to give them all the cash he had on him, but Walter said no." A sudden look of concern appeared on young Artemisia's face.

Walter hit one of them in the chest with his bowling ball, and then he wrestled with another one, biting off his ear like Mike Tyson. I swung my ball at the third guy as a warning, but he kept coming at me, so I hit him for real. When we turned around, we saw Donny on the ground, grabbing his chest. He was having a heart attack. Walter stayed with him while I went to call 911, but it was too late. Donny died right there in the parking lot of the bowling alley. He had no family, so Walter and I went to pick up his ashes. Walter got really upset when they wanted us to pay a lot of money for an urn, when we were going to spread his ashes. After what could have been a very ugly scene, we went to Ralphs, bought a can of Folgers's, dumped the coffee, and used that can to take his ashes. We went to a beach where Donny used to surf. Walter started to give a good sermon for Donny, but he had to bring Vietnam into it. Donnie was never over there. It had nothing to do with him! When Walter spread the ashes, the wind blew back at us, and Donny's remains blew all over me. I was mad, and he thought that was why, but it was the Vietnam thing. Why did he always have to bring that up?

Now back to your mother. She called me again, and asked why I had not seen her doctor yet. She really insisted that I needed to, so I agreed. It was my jaw that was injured, so when he wanted me to pull my pants down, I had no idea why. After a little arguing, I just let it be. A few days later, I came home to my apartment to find that either Treehorn's goons or the Germans had smashed it up real bad. Jackie Treehorn, the gangster pornographer Bunny owed money to, and the nihilists who claimed that they had her, both thought I had the money. They never knew that it was only phone books in that briefcase. I tripped over a booby trap that I had left there, landed flat on my back, looked up, and there was Maude. She was wearing nothing but my bathrobe, which she promptly dropped and said, "Jeffrey, love me." That was the night we were together. We talked for a while after that, I fired up a roach from my last jay and smoked it until it was gone. I almost swallowed it. I needed a drink after that, so I made a White Russian. Your mother was doing some yoga, and I asked her about it. She told me that it increased the chance of conception. I was so shocked that I spit my drink!

Your mother went on to tell me that she only wanted a baby, not a partner, and that no one she might see again socially would be right for that. She wanted someone she would never see again, and I haven't ever seen her again. Only then did that doctor's test make any sense. That was the point of it. I guess she got what she wanted, 'cause here you are. There is more to this crazy story if you wanted to hear it, but the part about your mother is done. You know, I think you are only the second person I have ever told this story to. The first was an old cowboy who was at the bowling alley a few times when we were. He liked Sarsaparillas a lot. He seemed to like the story. I wonder what ever happened to him. Did I tell you that you hired the same detective who was trying to find Bunny nineteen years ago? Her real name was Fawn Knusten. She had run away from home, and her parents wanted her to come back. Good luck with that!