"Birthday present?" My birthday's not for five months. Probably tickets to a show she wants to see. Or a cyanide capsule.

Helen reached into her handbag and removed a small jeweler's box, the second-hand velvet packaging scuffed. "Happy birthday, honey."

Vin checked the box for a trip-wire before opening it. "Wow, a dive watch." Jesus, what the h.e.l.l am I supposed to do with this cheap piece of s.h.i.t? Looks like she bought it in a Vegas p.a.w.n shop. "Honey . . . this is awesome."

"Try it on."

"Absolutely, are you kidding?" He removed his $19,000 t.i.tanium Piaget Polo timepiece with the luminescent hour markers and sapphire back and strapped on the $159 plastic and rubber dive watch. "It's a beauty. Thanks, hon. What? No card?" Vin forced a laugh, giving her a quick hug as he rolled his eyes behind her back.

Nurse Kim opened the door. "Sorry to interrupt. I've got you in Room 4 next. Get this-the blonde in Room 6 wants to discuss whether she needs birth control for a.n.a.l s.e.x."

Sweat beads broke out across Vinnie's upper lip. "Jesus, Kim, can't you see my wife and I are sharing an intimate moment?" He leaned over and French-kissed Helen- -who pushed him off her, gagging. "Go. Examine your cheerleader. I'll see you at home."

Helen left Vincent's office, pausing outside Exam Room 4. The door was ajar, revealing the black cheerleader's nude body. The exhibitionist had her back to the door-completely oblivious-as she casually turned her dressing gown inside-out, confused over which opening to place her arms.

Helen slammed the door shut. Ignoring good-byes from the check-out nurse and receptionist, she exited to the waiting room as Nurse Kim called out, " Edna Dombrowski?"

"Right here."

"Exam Room 2." Nurse Kim waved to Helen and shut the door.

Instead of leaving, Helen selected a magazine from a rack, found a vacant seat close to the door and pretended to read-her left hand searching her handbag for the watch's control device.

VINCE LEFT HIS office, his heart still racing from "Warden Helen's" surprise inspection. Deciding it best to settle his nerves before moving on to the highlights of his day, he bypa.s.sed the Nubian cheerleader in Room 4, grabbing the chart off the door of Exam Room 2.

He knocked and enters. "Mrs. Dombrowski, what brings you by this afternoon?"

"Wow, that was fast. I have a date tonight, Dr. Cope, and I thought-just in case-I better make sure the yeast infection's completely cleared up."

"Sounds like somebody might get lucky. Let's get your feet up in the stirrups and I'll take a quick look."

"Dr. Cope, may I ask you a personal question?"

"Ask away."

"Do you think I'm a lesbo?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I've been s.e.xually-active for forty-six years and I've yet to meet a man who can bring me to . . ." she whispered, "o.r.g.a.s.m."

"How many men have you been with?"

"Three. The last forty-two years with the ex. But I'm available again, and I'd like to . . . you know-"

"Date women?"

"Why would I date a woman?"

"Well, you just asked . . . Never mind. Ever use a vibrator?"

"You mean one of those electrical devices? Oh my, no. I'm afraid of putting something mechanical down there."

"They're perfectly safe. My nurse, Wanda sells them. It might be a more private way to get the juices flowing."

"Walter . . . my ex-he was all thumbs down there. The man couldn't find my c.l.i.toris if I painted it blue and gave him a coal-miner's hat with a light on top."

Vincent laughed. "Well, don't give up on us yet. Sometimes a man just needs a little instruction. Okay, I'm going to put two fingers inside to feel around . . ."

ZAP!.

The neurological shock hit Vin like an invisible wave, turning his muscles to mush and taking his feet out from under him. He collapsed face-first onto the table between Edna Dombrowski's spread legs, his two fingers still buried three inches deep inside his patient's suddenly-tingling c.l.i.toris.

"Oh my goodness . . . oh my G.o.d. Dr. Cope, what was that?"

Still seeing purple flashing lights, Vince opened his mouth to answer- ZAP!.

"Unhhhh!"

"Wow!" Edna retracted both legs from the stirrups and crossed her heels, sandwiching Dr. Cope's left arm between her clenched thighs in a wrestling hold, pinning his hand inside her quivering v.a.g.i.n.a.

"Mrs. Dombrowski, let go-"

ZAP!.

"Oh my G.o.d, oh my G.o.d!"

BACK IN THE waiting room, Helen Cope was in a state of panic. Hearing the dueling screams of her husband and the older woman, she had accidentally dropped the control switch, and now the red light refused to power off. Flipping the jammed device over, she tried to remove the batteries-only to discover the back panel was screwed into place.

"AHHHH!" EVERY THREE seconds a surge of electricity coursed through Vincent Cope's frayed nervous system- "Wahhhh!"-stimulating Edna Dombrowski's genitalia, her o.r.g.a.s.m building into a forty-six-year-old towering wave of frustration-nearly ready to burst.

"Edna, let go!"

Lost in the moment, Edna panted like an overheated dog, her eyelids fluttering. "Deeper to the right-more to the right! Oh, G.o.d, oh my G.o.d . . . yes! YES!" She grabbed the gynecologist by the hair. "Don't you dare move, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d!"

HELEN STOMPED ON the device. Smashed it against the arm of her chair . . . and still it wouldn't power off.

THE RECEPTIONIST AND Nurse Kim listened outside the door of Exam Room 2. Down the hall, the cheerleaders stood outside their respective exam rooms in their dressing gowns.

"I don't know what's going on in there, Dawn, but I'm gettin' me some of that."

EDNA DOMBROWSKI BUCKED like a wild bronco, screaming in ecstasy-each contortion pile-driving Vinnie's face into the paper-sheeted table cushion as she climaxed for a second and third time.

HELEN RACED OUT the front entrance to her car. Placed the jammed device beneath the left front tire. Opened her door, started the engine, shifted into reverse-and backed over the cursed controller.

THE SCREAMING COMING from Exam Room 2 stopped, dying into moans of delightful giggles. After a minute the door swung open, revealing Edna Dombrowski, her graying hair down and wavy, her cherub cheeks bright pink b.a.l.l.s on her smiling face.

"Book me again for next week ladies-same Bat time, same Bat channel."

Vinnie pushed past her, his hair resembling Don King's, the smoldering dive watch dangling from his singed left wrist. Blinded by purple spots, he never saw the scantily-clad women waiting for him at the end of the hall. Instead, he staggered past them, entered his office, and collapsed in his desk chair.

THE LOCATION OF Zev's free seminar was located on Palmetto Park Road less than a mile from Vin's office. As Jacob turned into the parking lot, he realized that he must have driven by the domed single-story building at least fifty times in the last three months without giving it a second thought.

There were more than a hundred new students attending the free introductory seminar-men and women, old and young, black and white and every shade in between. Jacob was greeted by a volunteer who seated him at one of a dozen tables inside a conference room.

The lecture began at eight p.m. sharp, led by a man in his forties, his dark beard as thick as Jacob's, his hairline receding.

"Good evening. My name is Solomon Jian and I am one of the teachers at the Centre. Tonight, our goal is to give you a basic introduction to an ancient knowledge that hopefully you can take home and make use of in your daily lives. The word, Kabbalah means 'to receive'; the question is to receive what? What do you feel you need in your life. On your tables are paper and pens; I want you to write down five things that you want to receive in this lifetime."

Jacob wrote down: Love, success, happiness, money, and health.

The teacher continued, "Now I want you to circle the one you want the most."

Jacob hesitated. What good was money or fame without health? What good was health without love? He circled love, then crossed it out and circled happiness.

"Okay, what we're going to do is list on the blackboard the most important things within each group. Just call out from each table."

"Health."

"Love."

"Peace."

"Happiness."

"Money."

"Prosperity."

"Success."

Solomon Jian wrote each item on the blackboard, adding check marks when an answer was duplicated. "Very good. Believe it or not, throughout the world, people always want the same things. There is a reason for that. As emotional creatures we want to feel. As for money, we aren't really interested in acc.u.mulating physical dollars; we want what these physical dollars can bring us. Maybe being rich means having security. Maybe it means less stress. A nice home. A new car. We want money for things we are lacking.

"Religious people love to use words like, 'I hope.' The big difference between a religious person and a spiritual person is that religious people pray to G.o.d for help while spiritual people already know G.o.d is in the equation but recognize that they have to do something from within themselves in order to get what they want.

"To achieve what you desire out of your lives, you have to accept certain rules. In the game of life, you need to learn these rules. Without rules there is chaos. You can take the ten best basketball players in the world and put them all on a basketball court with a ball, but if they have no idea how to play the game there can be no fulfillment. You can't win in the game of life without knowing the rules. Kabbalah is all about learning the rules.

"The first rule we must learn is that what we truly desire in our lives is lasting, endless fulfillment. Physical things will never make you happy. They may be fun for a while, but the happiness won't last. You can buy a new car or home, but it won't make you happy. You could go out tonight and buy a red Ferrari, and for a while you'd be happier, but after a while you'd lose interest in that, too. Am I telling you not to be rich? No. Just don't expect it to make you happy. Happiness is not a physical feeling, it can't be bought.

"We make decisions in our life by using our five senses. Our senses give us information that we've come to accept as reality. We recognize things in our life through our five senses. We see, touch, smell, taste, and hear. Do our senses ever mislead us? The next rule we need to understand is that we can't trust our five senses. We see a blackboard and it appears solid to us, but if we examine the atoms that make up the blackboard we would see great expanses as vast as s.p.a.ce itself. We meet someone special, our senses tell us it's the right person, we get married, but the marriage ends in divorce. What happened? In life, it's not about the senses, it's about our consciousness.

"Kabbalah teaches us that there are actually two realities . . .two universes. There is the one percent universe which is the physical world of the five senses, and the ninety-nine percent universe which we call the Endless World. Creativity comes from the endless world. Mozart wrote his symphonies by tapping into the ninety-nine percent. This is where miracles come from. Remaining stuck in the physical world is like being stuck in the mud. To get out of the mud you need to tap into the ninety-nine percent. Are we training you to be psychics? No. But we are going to teach you how to access the energy of abundance found in the ninety-nine percent the Creator's energy -- what we call the Light.

"There is a very easy way to tap into the ninety-nine percent-it will sound easy, but it's tough to do. The one percent world deals with blame. The ninety-nine percent means taking full responsibility for whatever happens in your life. Nothing happens suddenly; everything follows the laws of cause and effect. Blame is the cause. Responsibility is being the effect. When you take full responsibility, you are now in control of your life. And yet nothing is more painful. My marriage isn't working, my wife doesn't make love to me, she's always yelling at me to pick up my clothes-blah, blah, blah. Stop blaming. Take full responsibility for fixing it. It's not about blaming the other person. It's not about being right. You hate your job; don't blame your boss-do something about it. If you are always blaming someone else for your misery, you'll always be in the darkness. You want a life full of love, don't blame the other person, give love. And stop with the guilt . . . it only brings you down. Guilt is nothing more than self-blame, stop doing it. It's not about being right, it's about being happy. You can have all the money in the world, it won't make you happy. I've met billionaires who were miserable, blaming their ex-wives for taking a hundred million dollars in the divorce, blaming their kids for not loving them, blame . . . blame . . . blame. At the end of the day, you have to take responsibility for your life."

FREAK-OUT FRIDAY.

Nancy awoke to the dog barking at the birds. She rolled over, checking the alarm clock-7:12 a.m. "Jacob, wake up, your dog needs to go out. Jacob!"

"Whaa?"

"Let your dog out and get ready for work."

"My dog? You're the one training him . . . how about training him to use the toilet?"

"I'm sure he'd get less pee on the seat. Come on, get up!"

Jacob rolled out of bed. He staggered out of the bedroom only to be bull-rushed by the hyperactive German Shepherd as he attempted to escape into the hall bathroom to empty his own aching bladder. "Easy boy . . . watch my toes-oww! Okay, okay-outside."

The spinning tan and black dervish of fur-covered muscle leaped at the gla.s.s door until Jacob could unbolt the lock and release him.

Unable to hold his own urine any longer, Jacob stepped outside and peed on a shrub.

"Jacob!"

"Sorry. Must have been the asparagus." He finished, then tossed Sam his ball for ten minutes, hoping to wear the dog out before they returned inside.

"Hey, boy, what's that around your neck?" Jacob unhooked the collar, inspecting the two metal prods. "Nancy, what's with Sam's new collar? Is this some kind of tracking device?"

She emerged from the bedroom, already dressed for work. "It's a shock collar."

"Shock collar? You're shocking my dog? Why are you shocking my dog?"

"It's for his advanced training."

"How advanced does he need to be? Are we sending him to college?"

"Relax. Spencer said it doesn't hurt the animal, it just hits them with an uncomfortable jolt which deters the negative behavior."

"Where's the control?"