Paul Harvey posted:

The senator stepped off of the "members only" elevator onto the plush
carpet of Russell Office Building hallway.  The Department of Redundancy
fillibuster had dragged on for hours longer than anyone had expected and
he was desperate to get out of the confining costume and stretch all of
his legs.  Slipping into his inner office through the private entrance, he
got the flesh-covered latex mask over his protruding mandible and clear of
his antennae before the door had even clicked fully closed.  The suit was
next.  As he got older the discomfort of keeping one of his three pair of
legs bound to his body all day in an Armani wrapper became more and more
intolerable.  He strectched all six legs (and his wings for good measure),
and felt like he could
finally relax.

A buzz from the intercom broke the spell.  Irritably, he extended the claw
on one segmented forefoot and toggled the device on.  "What is it Louise?"
he snapped.

"There's a man here to see you, Senator.  Your four o'clock appointment
from the Agave Processors Association."

The thought of squeezing his giant mutant roach body back into the
confines of his Senator suit was more than he could face.  "Tell him
something came up.  Tell him I won't be able to see him until next week,
and then reschedule him."

"Excuse me, Senator.  The gentleman just said something very odd.  He
said, 'Tell old Jeembo that he don't need to bother with the mask and
suit.  I know all about him anyway'.  Do you know what he means or should
I just call security?"

"N-no," the shocked senator stammered.  "Send him in.  I'll see him." 
Jeembo!  No one had called him that since...No.  It couldn't be.

His fears were confirmed before the visitor was even through the heavy oak
door.  The lobbyist was preceded into the office by a stench that hammered
the giant insect at every olfactory sensor on his abdomen.  He turned and
confronted the low-slung, corpulent form in the doorway.

"Well, Dupree.  You found me."

"Of course I find you, Jeembo.  It wasn't so hard."

The senator was amazed that the reeking mock-lobbyist had ever made it
past the Capitol Police and into the building.  Sure, he was wearing a
suit, like any lobbyist.  But what a suit!  Instead of the standard
navy-blue pinstripe, this was a flaming scarlet number modelled on the
sequined nightmares that old time country and western stars wear.  Only
instead of glittering depictions of cacti and roses, the upper part of
this suit was covered with pre-Columbian style human figures, all sewn in
rhinestones and sequins, and depicting couples performing twelve different
sexual acts, each one associated with a sign of the zodiac.  The whole
mess was topped with the familiar black sombrero that the senator
remembered from their previous meeting.

The odiferous presence plucked the senator's vinyl "human" mask from the
polished desk and squinted at him through bloodshot eyes.  "So.  I see you
alter the headsack I give you, Jeembo.  Nobody ever pull that one before."

The bug sensed danger.  This was the tightest spot he'd been in since his
last encounter with the mysterious drifter, in that grain elevator outside
of Omaha (where they had both been seeking refuge from the pounding heat
of a Nebraska summer).  Gingerly ,working one leg and then another (and
then another), he inched his way toward the relative safety behind the
massive desk.  "It was my mandible.  You didn't count on my chewing my way
out."

"Mebbe you just need a heavier guage!" shouted El Dupree, grabbing a #32
from his greasy sash and hurling it deftly across the room and over the
monster's antennae.

As the darkness settled around him, the senator felt somehow soothed,
liberated.  After all, the frantic activity on Capitol Hill could be
enough to drive anyone to distraction.  Seen a thousand times over through
compound eyes it had left him verging constantly on sensory overload.  Now
there was only darkness and muffled sound (although the odor remained,
bypassing the headsack through his abdomenal vents).

"Tell me, Dupree" he whispered.  "How did you find me.  Was it because I'm
the only giant cockroach in Congress?"

"Only?"  El Dupree smiled.  Scooping up a handful of fine cigars from the
humidor on the senator's desk the sweating sage oozed out the door and
headed for the House chamber and his appointment with the Speaker.