I drive an Illuninati (part II)
The new Illuminati x-t-r-a 23 comes in both a stylish black and also in another shade of black and shouts to the whole world “I am globalism, baby”
Ericka’s phone chirps from under her bed. She rolls off, and feels around for it blindly. Many rings later, “Hello?”
"Hey Ericka, it’s Jack" slightly giggling.
“Where are you Jack?”
“I’m standing outside your window watching you, I mean waiting for you.”
“Really?”
“Let’s see, you have a freaked out look on your face and a red skirt that matches it. Now give me the what’s what?”
She waves at him though the window.“Treeder" she says in a relieved but breathy voice “you’re a bastard.”
“So you were saying something about Skyfox. Is he going to kill me, again?” Jack asks with a near giddy tone.
“Yes, every 23 seconds” she said. “But not now, or the next time…. Because I have a plan”
“All right let’s hear it.”
She opens the door and Treeder walks in and makes a bee line to the refrigerator. Swinging it wide open he says, “What’s with all the malt liquor, baby”
Meanwhile @ 11 Turin, the epicurean, is waxing poetic at the bar much to the writers annoyance. “poeta est agricula.”
“He’s also out of work” replies the writer.
“Yes your correct young man, He’s both happy and liberated”
“Turin, you mean he’s hungry, and liberated from his dinner.”
“More drinks please, kind barkeep and keep um coming. The poet is happy, and as a farmer he is hungry, thus he is sustained by the fruits of his creativity and his love of life”
“Try paying for the drinks you ordered with your creativity, fruitpie the epicurean.”
Turin leans away and begins scribbling something onto the cocktail napkin.
“Who’s playing the next show barkeep” the writer asks.
“(CoqNoir)” he says mixing a something black into something stylishly black.
“Impossible!” says the writer.
“Were you expecting someone different?”
“No, not really.”
Slugging back another beer, Jack asks “So what’s the plan to keep me breathing, Ericka?”
“Turin has been working the details @ 11 and when we meet him I’ll tell you"
“What’s with all the cloak and dagger” Jack asks, watching Ericka fold an elaborate cloak around a rather plain dagger. “Just the standard girl scout stuff, Jack. Finish your beer. We are late enough as it is.” They both start laughing.
Ericka’s phone chirps from under her bed. She rolls off, and feels around for it blindly. Many rings later, “Hello?”
"Hey Ericka, it’s Jack" slightly giggling.
“Where are you Jack?”
“I’m standing outside your window watching you, I mean waiting for you.”
“Really?”
“Let’s see, you have a freaked out look on your face and a red skirt that matches it. Now give me the what’s what?”
She waves at him though the window.“Treeder" she says in a relieved but breathy voice “you’re a bastard.”
“So you were saying something about Skyfox. Is he going to kill me, again?” Jack asks with a near giddy tone.
“Yes, every 23 seconds” she said. “But not now, or the next time…. Because I have a plan”
“All right let’s hear it.”
She opens the door and Treeder walks in and makes a bee line to the refrigerator. Swinging it wide open he says, “What’s with all the malt liquor, baby”
Meanwhile @ 11 Turin, the epicurean, is waxing poetic at the bar much to the writers annoyance. “poeta est agricula.”
“He’s also out of work” replies the writer.
“Yes your correct young man, He’s both happy and liberated”
“Turin, you mean he’s hungry, and liberated from his dinner.”
“More drinks please, kind barkeep and keep um coming. The poet is happy, and as a farmer he is hungry, thus he is sustained by the fruits of his creativity and his love of life”
“Try paying for the drinks you ordered with your creativity, fruitpie the epicurean.”
Turin leans away and begins scribbling something onto the cocktail napkin.
“Who’s playing the next show barkeep” the writer asks.
“(CoqNoir)” he says mixing a something black into something stylishly black.
“Impossible!” says the writer.
“Were you expecting someone different?”
“No, not really.”
Slugging back another beer, Jack asks “So what’s the plan to keep me breathing, Ericka?”
“Turin has been working the details @ 11 and when we meet him I’ll tell you"
“What’s with all the cloak and dagger” Jack asks, watching Ericka fold an elaborate cloak around a rather plain dagger. “Just the standard girl scout stuff, Jack. Finish your beer. We are late enough as it is.” They both start laughing.
posted by Nicholas Holt at 10:02 PM
1 Comments:
Cool it on the Girl Scout wise cracks. They might put something funny in your thin mints. And I guess Henry Ford knew global when he made all those cars black, eh.
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