The True Last Words of Dutch Schultz

The manic ramblings of a dying gangster hold important secrets.

Any conspiracy theorist worth his salt knows about the last words of
Arthur Flegenheimer, aka Dutch Schultz. For those of you who don't know
about them, you can check them out here.
 These are the last words recorded by the court stenographer at the
bedside of the gangster as he lay raving and dying, and they have been
analyzed by more psychologists, criminologists, conspirologists, and
whackos than you can shake a stick at. Everyone's got a theory about
what they mean, even if their theory is that they're the nonsense
spouted by a dying man with a fever of 106.

The reason that the secret hasn't been uncovered is that the
stenographer didn't turn over all the notes he took. He only transcribed
 about 80% of Dutch's last rant. The remaining 20% contained certain key
 phrases that sounded like gibberish but were actually verbal artifacts
granting a certain power over the Cruel Ones.

Dutch was a candidate for the Godwalker True King, you see, and he was
an extremely bloody and violent competitor. His rise was marked by
numerous vicious killings and other cruel acts. As he grew more and more
 aware of the mystical aspects of his path, he became fearful of the
ghosts of all the men he had eliminated. He was convinced that they
would be waiting for him on the other side, and that they'd want
vengeance. Through some means still not completely understood, Dutch
managed to learn a few words in the language of the Cruel Ones.

These words are too powerful to be spoken in complete form by mere
mortals, and must be broken up and concealed in a human language to be
speakable by humans, wrapped up in mnemonics so that the mind will hold
them. Even so, the strain of speaking them puts incredible pressure on
the human psyche, and most people don't make it through a recitation
with their minds intact.

Their are ten words in the phrase that Dutch knew, and each must be
wrapped into a sentence with the word itself broken up and only hinted
at by strange mnemonic constructions: "A boy has never wept, nor dashed a
 thousand kin..." is probably at least part of one word, as is "French
Canadian bean soup." The original manuscript of handwritten notes that
the stenographer used to type up his edited version contains them all,
and adepts may be able to pick out the key phrases using random magic.
Even if the phrases aren't identified, the whole transcript can be
recited to make sure that all the words are spoken in the proper order.

Speaking the complete words aloud attracts the attention of the Cruel
Ones on the far side of the veil. Once someone has started with the
first word, they are doomed unless they successfully complete the entire
 phrase. Each word they speak unlocks powerful primordial pools of
memory and meaning in the speaker's mind, forcing a stress check on a
random meter for each word. The degree of the check is equal to the
number of the word, from 1 to 10. If, at any time, a check is failed,
the recitation stops, and the Cruel Ones gather in the soul of the
speaker, carrying him into oblivion.

If all ten words are spoken and the speaker remains in possession of
himself, he has the ability to order the Cruel Ones to destroy the souls
 of any person or people that they can name. This request doesn't have
to be verbal, or specific, but the group must be finite and definite:
the souls of everyone I have killed or have had killed is acceptable,
the souls of everyone who hates me is not. The Cruel Ones perform this
task, but then claim the soul of the speaker in payment. Now you know
why Dutch waited until he was dying anyway to speak the phrase.

**Copyright Rick Neal, posted on the official UA site on July 10 2002**