Walk up glass stairs with everyone looking at me and don’t know just throw that fucking door wide open on its expensive cantilevered modern art hinge and hear something pop in the mechanism so it hangs there—

“Hi Director Desirée baby it is BAAAAANJOOOOOO! Are you pleased to see me don’t answer that I can already tell that you are.”

“Oh goodness! Mr. TELEMARK what are you doing here?”

“O I am sorry you must be super busy I really came to say hi and let you know everything is shaping up supercoolio for the EVENT I am putting on at Kircheisen and I am of course not under arrest.”

“I was sure that you were—”

“That is my art Madame Director and I am not the first and greatest of exponent of Ambiguitionism for no reason. In doubt and dismay and the sense of a world gone mad—that sense which touches the edges of our minds at all times in this runaway century—that is where I live. I am Banjo Telemark and that is my truth now show me yours.”

“I—I am not sure I have one ready.”

“Perfect! Please tell Hans the bulldozers will arrive tomorrow by helicopter he should be ready. And some other stuff. O do you know who I talk to at the Swiss Air Defense Force to let them know there will be fireworks?”

“Well yes but the Air Force they do not fly during the nighttime it is against noise regulations.”

“…I love this country Madame Director. I truly do. Ciao! Baci!”

“…Yaawuhhh. Baci. Yaaawh. Absolutely. Quite.”

—

Since I am out anyway this will be an opportunity to return Bruno’s coat. It is not nice to keep things people have loaned you and if it rains he will need his enormous coat and Charlie would be cross with me. Plus I like Bruno I do not want him to be wet. I am an international villain bajillionaire murder kingpin bank robber that does not mean I have to be a prick.

Plus there is just something I would like to ask no big deal but I would quite like a few bags of Z-Vat and some user instructions maybe a little help practical assistance in exchange for an intro to Mr. Friday and a serious motherfucking upgrade to their revolution if they’re serious about it.

So I go to the Black House to return the coat.

—

I open the door on a scene from a horror movie and not one of those nice black-and-white or early color ones where the horror is basically a woman in a nightdress shouting fuck but one of the modern ones which are a lesson in trauma anatomy and the audience is mostly medical students and snuff perverts.

Leclerc has been here.

Charlie will be—I don’t know what this will do to her I honestly do not. It’s on another order of things.