25-04-2019, 06:01 PM
Susan here. We were gathered around the living room table. Troy had dragged out a board game, and the drinks had switched from coffee to hot cocoa. I've noticed a distinct "hot beverages preferred" theme with Helen, and that they vary with her mood. Cocoa, I've observed, is the most positive one so far. I'm told it was what Propappou always made for her.
"So, I have two questions I have to ask, Helen." I had to ask Helen. "The question that Rita answered that tipped me off to her. I have to know what your answer would have been: Why wasn't America invited to STRANGERS?"
Helen took a sip of her cocoa and looked me in the eyes.
"We tried to make the President a special invitation that would explain all the issues to him in a way he'd understand, but then, SOMEONE broke the crayon."
When we all stopped laughing, I asked my second question.
"The Bank Robbery Quiz: What was your answer to the 'Why don't we do it' question?"
"Helen cocked her head and smiled.
"I never answered that question. When he asked how I'd do it, I just stood up, said 'Why the fuck would I tell you my plan, Troy? You'll just try to stop me.' and ran into the bank. I was already in the vault when Troy caught up with me. After I made up for the assignment, we came out and spent a whole ten minutes talking to the manager and the cops clearing it up. By then, most of the cops in Anchorage were like 'Yeah, that's The Parker Girl, this kinda thing happens,' anyway."
Everyone who wasn't Troy laughed at that. Then he joined us.
From across the street, we heard My Generation start booming from the speakers and all concluded that Mander must have made it back. Helen had said that she didn't have much for him to do now until the Auction, so he had some free time, and had been catching up with some guy named Bluey back at the hotel.
"Bluey's agreed to stay as Your Countessness' prisoner at the 'otel." Mander told us when he stopped by. "Told 'im it'd show good behavior if 'e 'elped maintain the illusion 'at Your Countessness is still occupyin' the suite insteada bein' 'ere. Orderin' room service, gettin' some pay-per-view, chargin' a couple things to the room. Ya know, makin' it look like someone who don't care 'bout money's really stayin' there."
"Top notch service, Alfred." Helen said with a grin. She turned and whispered to me. "And yes, I'm aware that he's up to something when he turns up the Cockney."
"Who's Bluey?" Troy asked.
Helen looked down her nose at Mander and replied in the tone of a 19th century Victorian landlord introducing the thugs he's brought along to help collect the old widows' rent.
"Another reliable gentleman such as himself." She dropped the accent. "Whose taste in porn I'll trust won't be too weird when I get my bill."
"Oh, don't worry about that." Julie said with a smile. "Wait til you see some of the freaky shit you ordered while you were in the bathroom a couple of times."
I smiled at that. Helen tends to pick the porn that her hotels air, too. Another of La Contessa's personal touches.
Troy had still been setting up the game and was asking Mander if he wanted in when there was a commotion outside. Mander took point as we all made for the front door, his hand on the gun at his side.
Out on the street, which was more visible now that most of the Ultimados' vehicles had been put into storage until Troy could find some local charities that could use them; four Ultimados dressed in ripped jeans and plaid flannel shirts were accosting a man who'd just gotten out of his car in front of our house. (The Ultimados were better dressed for Seattle today, because Julie and I took the opportunity while shopping yesterday to pick up a few less-conspicuous outfits for some of them. We'd distracted our nerves while awaiting word on Helen from the command center last night by giving some of the ones not busy taking orders from Ortega some 'How to Blend into the Crowd in the Northwest' fashion tips.)
"So, I have two questions I have to ask, Helen." I had to ask Helen. "The question that Rita answered that tipped me off to her. I have to know what your answer would have been: Why wasn't America invited to STRANGERS?"
Helen took a sip of her cocoa and looked me in the eyes.
"We tried to make the President a special invitation that would explain all the issues to him in a way he'd understand, but then, SOMEONE broke the crayon."
When we all stopped laughing, I asked my second question.
"The Bank Robbery Quiz: What was your answer to the 'Why don't we do it' question?"
"Helen cocked her head and smiled.
"I never answered that question. When he asked how I'd do it, I just stood up, said 'Why the fuck would I tell you my plan, Troy? You'll just try to stop me.' and ran into the bank. I was already in the vault when Troy caught up with me. After I made up for the assignment, we came out and spent a whole ten minutes talking to the manager and the cops clearing it up. By then, most of the cops in Anchorage were like 'Yeah, that's The Parker Girl, this kinda thing happens,' anyway."
Everyone who wasn't Troy laughed at that. Then he joined us.
From across the street, we heard My Generation start booming from the speakers and all concluded that Mander must have made it back. Helen had said that she didn't have much for him to do now until the Auction, so he had some free time, and had been catching up with some guy named Bluey back at the hotel.
"Bluey's agreed to stay as Your Countessness' prisoner at the 'otel." Mander told us when he stopped by. "Told 'im it'd show good behavior if 'e 'elped maintain the illusion 'at Your Countessness is still occupyin' the suite insteada bein' 'ere. Orderin' room service, gettin' some pay-per-view, chargin' a couple things to the room. Ya know, makin' it look like someone who don't care 'bout money's really stayin' there."
"Top notch service, Alfred." Helen said with a grin. She turned and whispered to me. "And yes, I'm aware that he's up to something when he turns up the Cockney."
"Who's Bluey?" Troy asked.
Helen looked down her nose at Mander and replied in the tone of a 19th century Victorian landlord introducing the thugs he's brought along to help collect the old widows' rent.
"Another reliable gentleman such as himself." She dropped the accent. "Whose taste in porn I'll trust won't be too weird when I get my bill."
"Oh, don't worry about that." Julie said with a smile. "Wait til you see some of the freaky shit you ordered while you were in the bathroom a couple of times."
I smiled at that. Helen tends to pick the porn that her hotels air, too. Another of La Contessa's personal touches.
Troy had still been setting up the game and was asking Mander if he wanted in when there was a commotion outside. Mander took point as we all made for the front door, his hand on the gun at his side.
Out on the street, which was more visible now that most of the Ultimados' vehicles had been put into storage until Troy could find some local charities that could use them; four Ultimados dressed in ripped jeans and plaid flannel shirts were accosting a man who'd just gotten out of his car in front of our house. (The Ultimados were better dressed for Seattle today, because Julie and I took the opportunity while shopping yesterday to pick up a few less-conspicuous outfits for some of them. We'd distracted our nerves while awaiting word on Helen from the command center last night by giving some of the ones not busy taking orders from Ortega some 'How to Blend into the Crowd in the Northwest' fashion tips.)
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