29-03-2019, 05:51 PM
So Night Follows Day Pt. 02
"Politicians hide themselves away.
They only started the war.
Why should they go out and fight?
They leave that role to the poor, yeah."
-Black Sabbath, "War Pigs"
-
"Well, Cara." Sally of Sally & Cara; co-hosts and co-alcoholics of America's
favorite early-morning talk show, "Up Your Morning! With Sally & Cara," said to her partner, taking a sip of their ever-present wine. "Big doings going on in Seattle this week, huh?"
"That's right, Sally." Cara beamed straight into the camera. "Leaders from many nations and CEOs of international conglomerates are gathering there for the Summit for Trade, Racial harmony, Agricultural science, Non-violence, Global peace, Education about vaccines, Religious acceptance, and Sexual equality; or 'STRANGERS,' which begins today. A week-long conference where all of those important issues will be considered at length."
"That's very interesting." Sally read from the teleprompter. "But, yes. One
attendee was on our show recently: Contessa Helena de San Finzione."
"Oh, yeah, Sally!" Cara seemed to be just remembering, as her own instructions said. "We interviewed her just a few hours before that tragedy."
The most popular tourist video clip of the attempt on Helena's life played on the screen.
"Ooh," Sally said, as Velasquez's face filled the screen after kneeing the cameraman in the testicles, then dissolved back into her own. "Get well, Helena." She turned to Cara. "She told us we could call her Helena, right?"
"I think so. But yes, we'd talked to her just a couple hours before that stalker attacked her." Cara sensed the mood might darken, and instantly perked up at the camera. "And she'll be up there in Seattle this week!"
"Well," Sally said, taking another sip of wine. "With all of those vital issues
being discussed peaceably by so many important people, I'm sure everyone will welcome STRANGERS to Seattle."
* * *
The protesters filled the streets for blocks around the Washington State
Convention and Trade Center.
Riot security officer held them back from the line of limousines approaching the building. All of the slogans and insults hurled at them garbled into an endless argument about how every subject on their agenda would either save or destroy the world; with nothing in-between. Signs and banners lined the streets, mostly playing off the STRANGERS acronym: Don't talk to STRANGERS, STRANGER DANGER. One had a drawing of Yosemite Sam saying, "We don't cotton to STRANGERS here in Seattle, Varmints!" That one was her favorite, thus far. The Ultimados sitting in the back of Contessa Helena de San Finzione's limousine were wearing black suits and sunglasses instead of their usual uniforms.
"Oh, come on, guys." She said to them. "Someone put some work into that one."
She turned to look out the side window, and accidentally crushed her cigarette against it, sending hot coals scattering. The Ultimados put out any that got on the bottom of her dress and took care of the hole in the upholstery where the bulk of it had landed.
"Sorry." She said with a sheepish grin, taking out another cigarette. She
reached to light it, when one of the Ultimados produced a Zippo lighter.
"Allow me, Contessa." He said in Italian, lighting the new one for her. She
coughed a little on the exhale. Her expression changed to a serious one when she saw a protester in a gas mask throwing a coffee cup at the limo.
"Thanks," She told him. "You guys think this might go bad?"
"Just keep your vest on and stay in the middle of us, Contessa." Another told her. She'd noticed now that their fingers were resting on the trigger guards of the UMP40 machine pistols they had at the ready as they pulled up to the red carpet.
She started to exit the limo, when the man on her right side held out his arm, opened the door, and stepped out first. She almost went again when the second man blocked her off. One of the ones behind her motioned that it was her turn to get out now. She stepped out to where the first two were standing at attention and waited for the last two to leave the vehicle. They walked around her in a plus-sign formation as she made her way down the carpet, past the film cameras and reporters.
"Contessa!" A reporter's voice shouted above the other various questions. "Why is the summit happening in America, when America wasn't even invited?"
"They should try asking nicely next time!" She yelled back, without breaking
stride. The Ultimados led her into the lobby and away from the crowds.
* * *
"Politicians hide themselves away.
They only started the war.
Why should they go out and fight?
They leave that role to the poor, yeah."
-Black Sabbath, "War Pigs"
-
"Well, Cara." Sally of Sally & Cara; co-hosts and co-alcoholics of America's
favorite early-morning talk show, "Up Your Morning! With Sally & Cara," said to her partner, taking a sip of their ever-present wine. "Big doings going on in Seattle this week, huh?"
"That's right, Sally." Cara beamed straight into the camera. "Leaders from many nations and CEOs of international conglomerates are gathering there for the Summit for Trade, Racial harmony, Agricultural science, Non-violence, Global peace, Education about vaccines, Religious acceptance, and Sexual equality; or 'STRANGERS,' which begins today. A week-long conference where all of those important issues will be considered at length."
"That's very interesting." Sally read from the teleprompter. "But, yes. One
attendee was on our show recently: Contessa Helena de San Finzione."
"Oh, yeah, Sally!" Cara seemed to be just remembering, as her own instructions said. "We interviewed her just a few hours before that tragedy."
The most popular tourist video clip of the attempt on Helena's life played on the screen.
"Ooh," Sally said, as Velasquez's face filled the screen after kneeing the cameraman in the testicles, then dissolved back into her own. "Get well, Helena." She turned to Cara. "She told us we could call her Helena, right?"
"I think so. But yes, we'd talked to her just a couple hours before that stalker attacked her." Cara sensed the mood might darken, and instantly perked up at the camera. "And she'll be up there in Seattle this week!"
"Well," Sally said, taking another sip of wine. "With all of those vital issues
being discussed peaceably by so many important people, I'm sure everyone will welcome STRANGERS to Seattle."
* * *
The protesters filled the streets for blocks around the Washington State
Convention and Trade Center.
Riot security officer held them back from the line of limousines approaching the building. All of the slogans and insults hurled at them garbled into an endless argument about how every subject on their agenda would either save or destroy the world; with nothing in-between. Signs and banners lined the streets, mostly playing off the STRANGERS acronym: Don't talk to STRANGERS, STRANGER DANGER. One had a drawing of Yosemite Sam saying, "We don't cotton to STRANGERS here in Seattle, Varmints!" That one was her favorite, thus far. The Ultimados sitting in the back of Contessa Helena de San Finzione's limousine were wearing black suits and sunglasses instead of their usual uniforms.
"Oh, come on, guys." She said to them. "Someone put some work into that one."
She turned to look out the side window, and accidentally crushed her cigarette against it, sending hot coals scattering. The Ultimados put out any that got on the bottom of her dress and took care of the hole in the upholstery where the bulk of it had landed.
"Sorry." She said with a sheepish grin, taking out another cigarette. She
reached to light it, when one of the Ultimados produced a Zippo lighter.
"Allow me, Contessa." He said in Italian, lighting the new one for her. She
coughed a little on the exhale. Her expression changed to a serious one when she saw a protester in a gas mask throwing a coffee cup at the limo.
"Thanks," She told him. "You guys think this might go bad?"
"Just keep your vest on and stay in the middle of us, Contessa." Another told her. She'd noticed now that their fingers were resting on the trigger guards of the UMP40 machine pistols they had at the ready as they pulled up to the red carpet.
She started to exit the limo, when the man on her right side held out his arm, opened the door, and stepped out first. She almost went again when the second man blocked her off. One of the ones behind her motioned that it was her turn to get out now. She stepped out to where the first two were standing at attention and waited for the last two to leave the vehicle. They walked around her in a plus-sign formation as she made her way down the carpet, past the film cameras and reporters.
"Contessa!" A reporter's voice shouted above the other various questions. "Why is the summit happening in America, when America wasn't even invited?"
"They should try asking nicely next time!" She yelled back, without breaking
stride. The Ultimados led her into the lobby and away from the crowds.
* * *
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