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Worldwide open secret. Solely Mr. Dec heralds the true god in the entire history of the universe. Not even in the Truth, oy vey, Pravda, is Mr. Francis E. Dec Esquire's eight-page detailed letter exposing the worldwide deadly Communist Gangster Computer God and the worst deadliest enemy of the entire human race and the entire universe and the entire history of the entire universe namely the Communist Atheist Conspiracy with all of the Deadly Gangster unbelievable sophisticated Frankenstein Controls, the Catholic Church. These facts, like the below facts, cannot be found in the Communist Gangster Computer God concocted and manipulated so-called history and news media.

Communist Gangster Computer God, unbelievably staged like Hollywood scum-on-top Tsarina alias Great Dictator Franklin D. Roosevelt, the polio paralyzed legless drug addict idiotic suicidal Tsarina fag who had his unbeatable rival Will Rogers exterminated in an exploding ball of flame by a planted bomb here in safe USA airfield shortly after take-off at the end of Will Rogers' unprecedented renowned arduous 'round-the-world good-will flying trip with Wiley Post in his beautiful electronically sophisticated luxurious ultra-modern Winnie Mae airplane. Not only all stairways had inclines added for Tsarina Roosevelt's computerized wheelchair, but a football field sized glass house type building was built in sight of the White House for his medicinal piped-in pure warmed seawater into his gigantic suicide-proof two feet deep swimming pool where he waded naked with his nurses and had sodomy affairs. Ones very near to him have written popular books about his sodomy oy vey love affairs. Already in his third term he was a helpless and useless stretcher case incapable of even appearing at his fourth term convention.

This One World Communist who married his immediate cousin Eleanor Roosevelt like his runted sickly pock-faced grandfather, propagandized as a hunter and a sportsman, Teddy Roosevelt here from Oyster Bay Long Island, the Rosenfelt family another Computer God top secret camouflage for gifted Ethiopians as a big-time kid gangster politician Computer God even raised his age for historical purposes. Teddy Roosevelt was paid off with the Vice President knew absolutely nothing farce position title.

Repeatedly Vice Presidents have successfully waited and lurked to eliminate El PresidentZÿ oy vey. Below are a few examples. So the kiddish gangster Teddy Roosevelt lured midwestern Dope McKinley into New York for extermination like the lowly guttermouth big L.B. Johnson lured playboy sodomist eat-with-the-Mafia Jack Kennedy into his home town Dallas wide open. People say it was the three brothers Sam, Milton and Lyman Jacobsen who with the judges feloniously swindled the Governor of Texas out of the U.S. Senator election shortly before Lyman was fixed as the compromise choice for Jack Kennedy's Vice Presidential nominee.

Who ever saw a Lyndon married to a tiny runt Birdie under Computer God orders even Birdie now has changed her name for historical purposes to Lady Bird nu? And even her Ethiopian surname is now changed to Taylor. It was the scummy bum lowly gangster Lyman as PresidentZÿ who had the gigantic Tsarina swimming pool deepened several feet to a regular swimming pool and regularly had naked sodomy swimming parties with women personnel. GANGSTER MONKEY SEE, GANGSTER MONKEY DO. Now that the Pope John in the Vatican has a similar swimming pool to share with the endless numbers of nuns to help him forget his good old days as a married man naked in bed with high holy communion sodomy.

In not that world renowned untouchable felon gangster Tricky Dick Nixon whose daughter Tricia is married to Davy Eisenshanker Junior nu? Nixon was the sure loser to the fag queer kid Bobby Kennedy until he was lured into very distant Tricky's home town Los Angeles. Did not gangster Tricky Dick Nixon do more than feloniously watch Eyesight Television of Bobby Kennedy's extermination?

Abe Lincoln's Computer God alias for Abe Lin-Cohen's law partner was Stanton. Abe and the gangster courts feloniously conspired fabricated patent infringements to swindle thousands of dollars from C. McCormick Weeper Machinery Company. As president, Abe made Stanton a Cabinet member in order to automatically become President Stanton concocted a grandiose murder scheme to murder not only Lincoln but also the Vice President and Secretary of State. Secretly, Vice President Johnson overseered it. Lincoln was murdered and Secretary of State Seward was very seriously injured.

Automatic President Harry "Shimmelman" Truman in terror, gave political concessions to Congress to enact abolishment of the automatic succession to the Presidency by Cabinet members. For cheap conspired felonious party fix Gangster Nixon gave Presidency to known felon Gerry Ford another Computer God alias the wide open life long felon bribe extortionist forgerer and check launderer Gerry Ford.

David Eisenscheimer or Eisenshanker another runted Negroidically befreckled semi-illiterate cowardly yokel kid, also Jimmy Carter who shared the sodomy drunk beds of the military academy with Niggers under secret Computer God orders upon graduation. CIA changed even his family gravestones. Camp David in Maryland was named after him, for him, and by him, including the Division of SS Secret Service troops who even tended his playboy giant golf course. Here David Eisenshanker hid in cowardly terror and watched World War Two on Eyesight TV. His historical name, Dwight Eisenhower. As president for months he was dying, in a coma, useless and helpless. Oy vay.

Sneak shameless hangman rope gangster government leaders into Frankenstein living death eternal slavery, I now go to death for your lowest deadly felony crime against me. Frankenstein Earphone Radio parroting puppet gangster slave do not dare to repeat any part of this truthful message. For like Mr. Francis E. Dec, Esquire, you too are expendable and you too can be beaten bloodily by the gangster police and dragged in chains into a windowless telephone booth type prison cell and put into maximum security insanity prison for undetectable extermination, and by the lowest gangsterism, namely, the law, character assassinated for life as an insane, criminal menace to this worse Gangster Communism. Now that your terrified, trembling delirium has subsided have your computer subdivision play out my letter, and you, reread my letter FOR YOUR ONLY HOPE FOR A FUTURE. Francis E. Dec, Esquire, 29 Maple Street, Hempstead, NY.

Worldwide Communist Gangster Computer God scum-on-top staged like Hollywood with plastic pale stand-in actors with Communist Gangster Computer God speed recording, instantaneous, simultaneous edited simulated voices implanted for all TV and news media microphones in any known language. Unbelievable con artist gangsterism solely for the overall plan. Worldwide eternal Frankenstein living death slavery. Yokel felon King Jimmy Carter slime from the academies which Mr. Dec intelligently refused unsolicited acceptance to the most elite academy from here in Niggertown and even insidious con artist gangster divorcZÿe Pope John, they both speak Spanish and even Portuguese. Solely Mr. Dec exposes False God Sodomy and Gomorrah of you Worldwide Computer God parroting puppet gangster slaves. Make copies for yourself you hangman rope gangster scum-on-top. Laugh your mad giggle now.
 
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https://youtu.be/F2Z2CklSxM0

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https://youtu.be/F2Z2CklSxM0

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A Study in Scarlet, Chapter VII, cont'd.

This last statement appeared to me to be so startling, that I could hardly believe that he was in his sober senses. There was the dead dog, however, to prove that his conjecture had been correct. It seemed to me that the mists in my own mind were gradually clearing away, and I began to have a dim, vague perception of the truth.

“All this seems strange to you,” continued Holmes, “because you failed at the beginning of the inquiry to grasp the importance of the single real clue which was presented to you. I had the good fortune to seize upon that, and everything which has occurred since then has served to confirm my original supposition, and, indeed, was the logical sequence of it. Hence things which have perplexed you and made the case more obscure, have served to enlighten me and to strengthen my conclusions. It is a mistake to confound strangeness with mystery. The most commonplace crime is often the most mysterious because it presents no new or special features from which deductions may be drawn. This murder would have been infinitely more difficult to unravel had the body of the victim been simply found lying in the roadway without any of those outré and sensational accompaniments which have rendered it remarkable. These strange details, far from making the case more difficult, have really had the effect of making it less so.”

Mr. Gregson, who had listened to this address with considerable impatience, could contain himself no longer. “Look here, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” he said, “we are all ready to acknowledge that you are a smart man, and that you have your own methods of working. We want something more than mere theory and preaching now, though. It is a case of taking the man. I have made my case out, and it seems I was wrong. Young Charpentier could not have been engaged in this second affair. Lestrade went after his man, Stangerson, and it appears that he was wrong too. You have thrown out hints here, and hints there, and seem to know more than we do, but the time has come when we feel that we have a right to ask you straight how much you do know of the business. Can you name the man who did it?”

“I cannot help feeling that Gregson is right, sir,” remarked Lestrade. “We have both tried, and we have both failed. You have remarked more than once since I have been in the room that you had all the evidence which you require. Surely you will not withhold it any longer.”

“Any delay in arresting the assassin,” I observed, “might give him time to perpetrate some fresh atrocity.”

Thus pressed by us all, Holmes showed signs of irresolution. He continued to walk up and down the room with his head sunk on his chest and his brows drawn down, as was his habit when lost in thought.

“There will be no more murders,” he said at last, stopping abruptly and facing us. “You can put that consideration out of the question. You have asked me if I know the name of the assassin. I do. The mere knowing of his name is a small thing, however, compared with the power of laying our hands upon him. This I expect very shortly to do. I have good hopes of managing it through my own arrangements; but it is a thing which needs delicate handling, for we have a shrewd and desperate man to deal with, who is supported, as I have had occasion to prove, by another who is as clever as himself. As long as this man has no idea that anyone can have a clue there is some chance of securing him; but if he had the slightest suspicion, he would change his name, and vanish in an instant among the four million inhabitants of this great city. Without meaning to hurt either of your feelings, I am bound to say that I consider these men to be more than a match for the official force, and that is why I have not asked your assistance. If I fail I shall, of course, incur all the blame due to this omission; but that I am prepared for. At present I am ready to promise that the instant that I can communicate with you without endangering my own combinations, I shall do so.”

Gregson and Lestrade seemed to be far from satisfied by this assurance, or by the depreciating allusion to the detective police. The former had flushed up to the roots of his flaxen hair, while the other’s beady eyes glistened with curiosity and resentment. Neither of them had time to speak, however, before there was a tap at the door, and the spokesman of the street Arabs, young Wiggins, introduced his insignificant and unsavoury person.

“Please, sir,” he said, touching his forelock, “I have the cab downstairs.”

“Good boy,” said Holmes, blandly. “Why don’t you introduce this pattern at Scotland Yard?” he continued, taking a pair of steel handcuffs from a drawer. “See how beautifully the spring works. They fasten in an instant.”

“The old pattern is good enough,” remarked Lestrade, “if we can only find the man to put them on.”

“Very good, very good,” said Holmes, smiling. “The cabman may as well help me with my boxes. Just ask him to step up, Wiggins.”

I was surprised to find my companion speaking as though he were about to set out on a journey, since he had not said anything to me about it. There was a small portmanteau in the room, and this he pulled out and began to strap. He was busily engaged at it when the cabman entered the room.

“Just give me a help with this buckle, cabman,” he said, kneeling over his task, and never turning his head.

The fellow came forward with a somewhat sullen, defiant air, and put down his hands to assist. At that instant there was a sharp click, the jangling of metal, and Sherlock Holmes sprang to his feet again.

“Gentlemen,” he cried, with flashing eyes, “let me introduce you to Mr. Jefferson Hope, the murderer of Enoch Drebber and of Joseph Stangerson.”

The whole thing occurred in a moment—so quickly that I had no time to realize it. I have a vivid recollection of that instant, of Holmes’ triumphant expression and the ring of his voice, of the cabman’s dazed, savage face, as he glared at the glittering handcuffs, which had appeared as if by magic upon his wrists. For a second or two we might have been a group of statues. Then, with an inarticulate roar of fury, the prisoner wrenched himself free from Holmes’s grasp, and hurled himself through the window. Woodwork and glass gave way before him; but before he got quite through, Gregson, Lestrade, and Holmes sprang upon him like so many staghounds. He was dragged back into the room, and then commenced a terrific conflict. So powerful and so fierce was he, that the four of us were shaken off again and again. He appeared to have the convulsive strength of a man in an epileptic fit. His face and hands were terribly mangled by his passage through the glass, but loss of blood had no effect in diminishing his resistance. It was not until Lestrade succeeded in getting his hand inside his neckcloth and half-strangling him that we made him realize that his struggles were of no avail; and even then we felt no security until we had pinioned his feet as well as his hands. That done, we rose to our feet breathless and panting.

“We have his cab,” said Sherlock Holmes. “It will serve to take him to Scotland Yard. And now, gentlemen,” he continued, with a pleasant smile, “we have reached the end of our little mystery. You are very welcome to put any questions that you like to me now, and there is no danger that I will refuse to answer them.”
 
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