13-09-2019, 07:50 AM
Whatever Gets You through the Night Pt. 14
"Whoa, thought it was a nightmare.
Lord, it's all so true.
They told me 'Don't go walkin' slow.
The Devil's on the loose.'"
-John Fogerty, "Run Through the Jungle"
"DIETZ HAS BOMBS!" Contessa Helena de San Finzione shouted to the walls of her study. Mander was with her and had been looking at the photos when she got the call from Generalissimo Hernando Ramirez that she'd just ended. "Most likely, anyway. Scott had a crate of C-4 in his Nazi Loony Room, little over a third of it left! He also armed Dietz's crew, but that first one seemed more important. How's YOUR day going, Mander?"
"S'alright. Hanging out, lookin' at Twitter while Your Countessness were on the phone." Mander replied casually, sitting on the couch in front of the television that took up most of the facing wall. "Seeing if Joffrey the Orange's had anything to say yet."
Although the United States was considered an Ally of San Finzione, their 45th President was most certainly not. Before Helen had been born, back when he was famous for simply being a "businessman" as opposed to "a serial failure of a businessman," he came to San Finzione to meet with Count Vincenzo Ramon de San Finzione the First to discuss expanding his hotel and casino chain into the country. Because Vincenzo welcomed and encouraged healthy competition in San Finzione's primary industry, the Count met with him personally.
Vincenzo the First had been described by those who knew him as an excellent judge of character. Their meeting lasted less than five minutes and ended with the future President's limo leaving Castle Finzione with a security officer escort straight back to his plane and him being the first person since Count Ernesto did the same to Benito Mussolini to be formally and publicly banned from San Finzione. This only applied at first to his business interests as well, but after a few tries, Vincenzo extended it to any venture that he was reasonably sure the "businessman" had interests in.
Although he was, by no means, a spiteful man, hotels, casinos, and wines were synonymous with San Finzione long before the future President had chosen to enter those fields. Vincenzo took amusement when the future President announced that he was branching into some new product line. He'd then take some spare venture capital he had lying around and dip Società Finzione's toes into the same waters. San Finzione already had a Calcio team and Vincenzo didn't feel the need to push the joke all the way and create a new league; but apart from that, profiting where the businessman failed and ended up declaring bankruptcy each time.
"Let's see," Helen said, calculating time zones. "Midnight in Seattle is 10 AM in San Finzione, so DC would be 3 AM. It's 18:25 Tuesday evening here, so it's 11:25 the same morning. If he decided to extend the usual weekend golfing trip a day, he got back last night, so we've got another thirty-five minutes before he even wakes up and turns on what he calls 'news.' We've still got until 10 AM before he'll go on Twitter. Apart from specific people, neither of America's political parties have any particular issues with San Finzione except that Americans like to spend money here instead of sticking it in the politicians' pockets, so there's the occasional movement for 'Don't go somewhere foreign to spend your money. Stay here and give it all back to our corporate masters. You shouldn't be able to afford a vacation anyway.'"
Mander thought on this.
"So how do ya win people back?"
"Their friends who don't listen come anyway, go back with stories, and they start to realize just how badly 'Why don't we just FORCE the public to Buy American' always fucks up. Troy's doctoral thesis is something about the Hawley-Smoot Tariff and what a fucking bad idea it was and how it screwed the entire world and its long-term effects; he can give you the details. You probably don't want them, though. The short form is 'it was short-sighted and stupid and one of the major factors in the Stock Market Crash and the Great Depression.' Americans get tired of driving through the same hole in the same giant redwood every vacation and remember that we have everything but winter sports here. And that's only because we don't have a winter to speak of." She remembered the current crisis. "Fuck, Mander, we have THEME PARKS! People bring their kids!"
Mander nodded his understanding. He tried to keep her from worrying by steering the conversation back toward Troy.
"Jacking up import duties to the point of cutting yourself out of the Global Market and kicking all them countries depending on ya for trade right in the bollocks has consequences." He then looked around suspiciously before turning back to Helen. "Please do NOT tell him that I know anything about it!"
Helen agreed.
"Ok, I got one more story about this, though."
She took a drag and began.
* * *
"Whoa, thought it was a nightmare.
Lord, it's all so true.
They told me 'Don't go walkin' slow.
The Devil's on the loose.'"
-John Fogerty, "Run Through the Jungle"
"DIETZ HAS BOMBS!" Contessa Helena de San Finzione shouted to the walls of her study. Mander was with her and had been looking at the photos when she got the call from Generalissimo Hernando Ramirez that she'd just ended. "Most likely, anyway. Scott had a crate of C-4 in his Nazi Loony Room, little over a third of it left! He also armed Dietz's crew, but that first one seemed more important. How's YOUR day going, Mander?"
"S'alright. Hanging out, lookin' at Twitter while Your Countessness were on the phone." Mander replied casually, sitting on the couch in front of the television that took up most of the facing wall. "Seeing if Joffrey the Orange's had anything to say yet."
Although the United States was considered an Ally of San Finzione, their 45th President was most certainly not. Before Helen had been born, back when he was famous for simply being a "businessman" as opposed to "a serial failure of a businessman," he came to San Finzione to meet with Count Vincenzo Ramon de San Finzione the First to discuss expanding his hotel and casino chain into the country. Because Vincenzo welcomed and encouraged healthy competition in San Finzione's primary industry, the Count met with him personally.
Vincenzo the First had been described by those who knew him as an excellent judge of character. Their meeting lasted less than five minutes and ended with the future President's limo leaving Castle Finzione with a security officer escort straight back to his plane and him being the first person since Count Ernesto did the same to Benito Mussolini to be formally and publicly banned from San Finzione. This only applied at first to his business interests as well, but after a few tries, Vincenzo extended it to any venture that he was reasonably sure the "businessman" had interests in.
Although he was, by no means, a spiteful man, hotels, casinos, and wines were synonymous with San Finzione long before the future President had chosen to enter those fields. Vincenzo took amusement when the future President announced that he was branching into some new product line. He'd then take some spare venture capital he had lying around and dip Società Finzione's toes into the same waters. San Finzione already had a Calcio team and Vincenzo didn't feel the need to push the joke all the way and create a new league; but apart from that, profiting where the businessman failed and ended up declaring bankruptcy each time.
"Let's see," Helen said, calculating time zones. "Midnight in Seattle is 10 AM in San Finzione, so DC would be 3 AM. It's 18:25 Tuesday evening here, so it's 11:25 the same morning. If he decided to extend the usual weekend golfing trip a day, he got back last night, so we've got another thirty-five minutes before he even wakes up and turns on what he calls 'news.' We've still got until 10 AM before he'll go on Twitter. Apart from specific people, neither of America's political parties have any particular issues with San Finzione except that Americans like to spend money here instead of sticking it in the politicians' pockets, so there's the occasional movement for 'Don't go somewhere foreign to spend your money. Stay here and give it all back to our corporate masters. You shouldn't be able to afford a vacation anyway.'"
Mander thought on this.
"So how do ya win people back?"
"Their friends who don't listen come anyway, go back with stories, and they start to realize just how badly 'Why don't we just FORCE the public to Buy American' always fucks up. Troy's doctoral thesis is something about the Hawley-Smoot Tariff and what a fucking bad idea it was and how it screwed the entire world and its long-term effects; he can give you the details. You probably don't want them, though. The short form is 'it was short-sighted and stupid and one of the major factors in the Stock Market Crash and the Great Depression.' Americans get tired of driving through the same hole in the same giant redwood every vacation and remember that we have everything but winter sports here. And that's only because we don't have a winter to speak of." She remembered the current crisis. "Fuck, Mander, we have THEME PARKS! People bring their kids!"
Mander nodded his understanding. He tried to keep her from worrying by steering the conversation back toward Troy.
"Jacking up import duties to the point of cutting yourself out of the Global Market and kicking all them countries depending on ya for trade right in the bollocks has consequences." He then looked around suspiciously before turning back to Helen. "Please do NOT tell him that I know anything about it!"
Helen agreed.
"Ok, I got one more story about this, though."
She took a drag and began.
* * *
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