24-04-2019, 01:17 PM
"Two's the title track." Helen explained, getting up and circling Leonard and the table, appraising him the way she did the reporters she'd been dressing at the mall earlier. "We don't have time to enroll you in a proper instructional course on Warren, but this album marks the beginning of the end for him; a year before the cancer diagnosis, he'd live less than three years more after this album. But he's getting sicker, feeling the darkness creeping in. I think it fits here. We won't listen to the whole album. I'm making the call now that I'll have finished orchestrating and carrying out your execution before, or possibly during, 'My Shit's Fucked Up.' That's track nine; little time, but not much. So, let's get started.
* * *
Leonard Whyte CBE lay on the bed, his gun in his mouth, his finger on the trigger, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he awaited the command to pull it, which he knew he would instantly obey. Contessa Helena de San Finzione looked over the scene.
His eyes followed her around the room. Begging and tears were never going to be on the agenda when this time came, for either of them. Looking one another in the eye at the end had never been in question, either.
She stood back from the bed a bit, raising her forefingers, and bridging her thumbs; looking at Whyte on the bed like she was trying to picture it on a screen.
"Over too quick." She said at last. "Let's try something else.
* * *
Leonard Whyte CBE was in the kitchen of his suite, kneeling on the linoleum. His head was inside the oven. Contessa Helena de San Finzione sang along with track two of the album as she looked over the scene.
"Nah," She said, after a little thinking. "Too old-fashioned. You're a more modern guy than that, Leonard."
"Plus. I'm pretty sure this stove's electric." Whyte said from inside. Helen had ordered him to cooperate fully with her on this project, so he was unable to stop her or attempt to escape in any way. What he'd done to the interpreter all week with a gun, she accomplished in seconds with a few words.
"Is it?" Helen said with a delighted giggle. "You're not going to believe this, Leonard, but I don't know a single fucking thing about cooking, and I have tried to learn. It's normally a little bit of a sore point with me, but right here and now, with you and me? Well, if you can't laugh at yourself. Ok, let's try something else."
* * *
Leonard Whyte CBE lay in a hot bath, still in his business suit, though his jacket had been removed. Steam filled the room, temporarily obscuring the face of Contessa Helena de San Finzione, who watched as he held the razor blade over his wrists.
"Too Godfather 2." Helen concluded.
* * *
Leonard Whyte CBE stood on a chair. A noose hung from the ceiling fan was around his neck. He was now in a dripping undershirt, soaked boxers around his ankles. He held his erection in his hand. Helen circled him, smoking.
"Too funny! I want people to FORGET you, Leonard. Nobody'll forget this! Also, since I know this is one of those things guys need to know?" She looked his semi-naked old body up and down with a long drag of her cigarette. "Yeah, OK, but I'd go in knowing you're no Troilus Equals and not expecting a lot."
"Well, you've already fucked one old man to death, Helena." Whyte said with a smile. "Think you can pull it off a second time? Know what you're doing now?"
An angry look came across her face.
"That's a very mean, hurtful thing to say, Leonard! Why I oughta just kick this chair right out from..." She paused and started laughing, as if she'd just understood a joke that took her a few moments. "Oh... that's what you WANT me to do! To put an end to the terror and humiliation, right? I get it. Ok, let's get you down from there and let you dry off and change. Don't want fuckin' pneumonia getting ya while I'm deciding."
* * *
* * *
Leonard Whyte CBE lay on the bed, his gun in his mouth, his finger on the trigger, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he awaited the command to pull it, which he knew he would instantly obey. Contessa Helena de San Finzione looked over the scene.
His eyes followed her around the room. Begging and tears were never going to be on the agenda when this time came, for either of them. Looking one another in the eye at the end had never been in question, either.
She stood back from the bed a bit, raising her forefingers, and bridging her thumbs; looking at Whyte on the bed like she was trying to picture it on a screen.
"Over too quick." She said at last. "Let's try something else.
* * *
Leonard Whyte CBE was in the kitchen of his suite, kneeling on the linoleum. His head was inside the oven. Contessa Helena de San Finzione sang along with track two of the album as she looked over the scene.
"Nah," She said, after a little thinking. "Too old-fashioned. You're a more modern guy than that, Leonard."
"Plus. I'm pretty sure this stove's electric." Whyte said from inside. Helen had ordered him to cooperate fully with her on this project, so he was unable to stop her or attempt to escape in any way. What he'd done to the interpreter all week with a gun, she accomplished in seconds with a few words.
"Is it?" Helen said with a delighted giggle. "You're not going to believe this, Leonard, but I don't know a single fucking thing about cooking, and I have tried to learn. It's normally a little bit of a sore point with me, but right here and now, with you and me? Well, if you can't laugh at yourself. Ok, let's try something else."
* * *
Leonard Whyte CBE lay in a hot bath, still in his business suit, though his jacket had been removed. Steam filled the room, temporarily obscuring the face of Contessa Helena de San Finzione, who watched as he held the razor blade over his wrists.
"Too Godfather 2." Helen concluded.
* * *
Leonard Whyte CBE stood on a chair. A noose hung from the ceiling fan was around his neck. He was now in a dripping undershirt, soaked boxers around his ankles. He held his erection in his hand. Helen circled him, smoking.
"Too funny! I want people to FORGET you, Leonard. Nobody'll forget this! Also, since I know this is one of those things guys need to know?" She looked his semi-naked old body up and down with a long drag of her cigarette. "Yeah, OK, but I'd go in knowing you're no Troilus Equals and not expecting a lot."
"Well, you've already fucked one old man to death, Helena." Whyte said with a smile. "Think you can pull it off a second time? Know what you're doing now?"
An angry look came across her face.
"That's a very mean, hurtful thing to say, Leonard! Why I oughta just kick this chair right out from..." She paused and started laughing, as if she'd just understood a joke that took her a few moments. "Oh... that's what you WANT me to do! To put an end to the terror and humiliation, right? I get it. Ok, let's get you down from there and let you dry off and change. Don't want fuckin' pneumonia getting ya while I'm deciding."
* * *
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