Fantasy Whatever Gets You through the Night by TMaskedWriter

[Ramesh_Rocky]

Whatever Gets You through the Night Pt. 06

"I can pull a rabbit

out of a hat.

I can pull it out,

but I can't put it back.

I can make love... disappear.

For my next trick, I'll need a volunteer.

Step right up!

For my next trick, I'll need a volunteer."

-Warren Zevon, "For My Next Trick, I'll Need A Volunteer"

Note: This story is dedicated to Stan Lee, a great Jewish writer. It involves Nazis, whom he wrote many comics about punching and killing. Steven Spielberg, who's made a movie or two about fighting Nazis is also involved. In the words of Tolkien, "I have no ancestors of that gifted race,"

Nazis are bad and evil, and they will be portrayed as such. There are NOT good people on that side, and as La Contessa would say, "nothing you do to them is wrong, because they don't steal nice and polite like you and me; they live, eat, and breathe fucking people over." If you have an issue with that notion, this story is not for you, and you'll be wanting the little X in the top-right corner. I don't really want YOU reading my work, anyway. If you have a problem with a writer putting their own politics into their Political Thriller Murder Mystery, keep your precious little opinonlet to yourself; we've all heard it before, save time again: Top Right Corner, Big ol' X.

* * *

"I never asked for this."

Gino Giovanni, the young actor playing Count Vincenzo Ramon de San Finzione spoke to the grown men gathered in the cave with him. Cigarette smoke rose up to the roof of the cave from the actors' cigarettes, but also from the one held by Contessa Helena de San Finzione. She sat next to Larry Compton, the assistant director whom she'd informed of his promotion.

"Three months ago, my father was explaining wine exports to me. Two months ago, the Nazis murdered him and my mother. And an hour ago, I stopped crying about it. I have been too busy being a grieving child to claim my birthright. But claim it, I do. And I'll take it back from the bastards who stole it all! You are the ones who rescued me from sharing their fate. You are not the ones who started this; they are. But you told them that I was whom they must deal with to finish it! General Schell started this, and I WILL finish it! I ask that you finish it with me!

"You, who rescued me from certain death. You, who have lost loved ones to keep me hidden from the SS. You who had faith that the San Finziones of old would show their descendant the way. Now, they have. And I ask that you join me in seeing it to the end. We shall finish this together, you and I. My finishers... my... Squadra de Ultimados."

The Resistance fighters cheered. Even though the young actor was approaching his 20s, Helen cheered as well. The director yelled "CUT," said the take was good, and called shooting for the day. The cast dispersed and the crew began shutting down the set.

"We can edit out your cheer, Contessa." Compton turned to her and said. "I thank you again for the promotion. And I'm still sorry about how it's come about. Eliot was a nice guy."

"Yeah, he was." Helen responded, never being entirely sure how to handle condolences. She hadn't really had time to mourn her mother before being whisked into the foster care system. And a cup of Propappou's cocoa that evening took care of any bad feelings she might have had left about Wade's death that afternoon.

"I have to say, though." Helen told him with a drag of her cigarette. "This Gino Giovanni kid's going to make it big. He looks just like Vincenzo!" She muttered the last part. "At the wrong age..."

Larry started to roll his eyes, then remembered who he was talking to and stopped, trying to cover the gesture by pretending to scratch an itch on the back of his neck.

"He tried to fight the studio for you on that." He informed her. "Personally, if I thought anyone could pull it off, it would've been Eliot. If you knew him, Contessa, you know he was obsessed with Spielberg." Helen nodded at that. "HE might have been able to direct an 11-year-old through that scene and make him believable. I know my limitations."

"My husband was an unbelievable man, Mr. Compton. I'll try harder not to micromanage because you'll be crowded now. Until we can catch Eliot's killer, you'll be getting security officer protection. That's an order from La Contessa AND your boss."

"Thanks again, Contessa. This script's brilliant!"

Helen nodded.

"It took a lot of time to find the right one."

"I'd love to see more of the writer's work, but I can't find anything else by this Juliessa Skankeko."

"It's her first work, and it's pronounced 'Julie is a skanky cow.'" Helen replied with a long drag. "Our studio hasn't been around long enough to lose a director before. Either through firing, quitting, or..." She took a shorter drag. "This. I've hired them, but I've never promoted someone to the job. Head back to the studio, I've already informed them; they'll know the procedures."