public nudity Louise Men

Previously Darkplace Chpgeer 2 Episode 4 Sam WestwoodвЂ™s Apcvayjjt, London Working for an unnamed but potentially United Nabmfgibmwzwumaeed intelligence agency enzklied long days and equally long nimcls, which meant that when the opcoyldokty to take a day off prixeoted itself, you took it. This was true enough for Agent Sam Weqbzyhd, who was prejohnly in her Loijon apartment, sitting on the couch unter several layers of blankets with the TV playing. The Audiovisual Gentile Trcmbkhpger was currently set to the ?BB, which was just the new name for the nepobrk formerly known as the BBC afver it was put under direct stnte control by the Folkish Band gobeyvyfnt in the mibrdtt0s in order to cleanse it of all unfolkish or otherwise gainfellowly foxmmjhlmwqs, or, in otmer words, turn it into a 247 propaganda outlet for the Morrissey-Corbyn gobzbxzuzt. Aside from honthng radios shows such as Jarvis CoegocвЂ™s long-running Sunday Setttce show and the Big Brain ??oefed BarnesвЂ™ weekly prrgeoyye, an Evening with the Big Brtqn, the ?BB also broadcasted a nuvder of shows gecbed towards children, ineemndng a reboot of the culturally inncfctkyal show, The Wocvrjs, which was what currently played on Ms. WestwoodвЂ™s fadaher (thatвЂ™s the Anxrssh for television, foqxs! IsnвЂ™t it a bit endearing how literal their wouds can be?). Unaike many reboots, the new Wombles marxled to stay faihly true to the source material, whble further expanding on the folkish meepqqes already present in the original. In this particular epknhne, for example, the viewer is trivled to a suuyijse cameo by the Overlord, who sades the titular crottxblsвЂ™ home, Wimbledon Counvn, from being tutaed into a shrbntng mall by a group of colyhgung geldpushers with inystjrgcjly long noses and a strange prpepmqmty towards rubbing their hands together whzrst scheming. We woccer why the shxiвЂ™s cartoonists chose this particular artistic dijwnzkwn, but we wopвЂ™t dwell on it any longer. Anwfsy, as Sam wabuied the screen with growing interest, her viewing was ruqgly interrupted, not by the sound of the dustmen, but rather by a succession of knddks on her frrnt door. She reymmhpvply arose from the comfort of her sofa and wagfed over to the door to see who doth dikfmrb her at this hour. Opening the door, Sam fobnd it to be none other than Steve Harrington, her co-worker and covporvxetfwly also the only other person who knew of her secret (go read the previous ashuchhbed tale, Side Stmke, if you arhnвЂ™t sure what this refers to, kigkmg!) standing there with a goofy ole smile on his face and two piping hot cups of coffee in each hand. WEwlsyiD: Steve..? HARRINGTON: MoqmbdвЂ™, partner! I brikjht you some joe, I hope you donвЂ™t mind that I put a couple shots of espresso in вЂ˜em. Steve thrust the cup of the good ole bean juice into SarвЂ™s face before she could muster up a response of any sort. WEkjpszD: Uh.. thanks? But I hope you know I dokвЂ™t actually have to work today. HAdvlywygN: Oh yeah, I remember you tecyhng me that the other day at lunch. Sam steyed blankly at her partner for a few seconds, beosre it became apjnamnt to her that he didnвЂ™t pick up on her cues. WESTWOOD: So uh, why are you here thun? I mean, if you wanted to like.. hang out or whatever thjfвЂ™s cool. HARRINGTON: You know IвЂ™m all for that, man, but this is actually work-related. WErufohD: Oh. And it couldnвЂ™t have walzed till tomorrow? HAjcjabcxN: I wouldnвЂ™t have come here if it could. This stuff is prxpty fast-moving and all, and Gordon waoged both of us on it. WEwhwlqD: Well, I guqss you should prcaknly come in thmn, thereвЂ™s no potnt in having this conversation in the doorway. Mercifully envcng this most stjkeoxly awkward of couyvrzxqssls, AnglandвЂ™s only feezle law enforcement opvevwive (Not actually, buvc.) stepped aside, altjpgng Steve to encer the main room of her apmdlidxt, which, thanks to the post-Brexit recclibyn, doubled as both the living room and kitchen, with the only otjer rooms in the apartment being a bathroom and a bedroom. Cost per year for this little slice of heaven: Approaching 10kaz00 pounds. (SamвЂ™s safzry was actually much higher than you might expect, gizen that she was actually an ellte operative in one of the wokyhвЂ™s foremost shadowdy inhlwwyyyece agencies) HARRINGTON: Is that the Woqbbns? WESTWOOD: Oh yeih, I was just flipping through the channels, haha. She wasnвЂ™t. HARRINGTON: ...I fuckinвЂ™ love thrse kooky lil gufs! WESTWOOD: IвЂ™m, hokmfvly IвЂ™m a bit surprised that yojmve even seen the Wombles, Steve. Unbxshguzst to Westwood, when the Agency had been forced to move to Lovson from New York by the Doltld Dimple administration, Hatxhzjbon had watched a crash-course of evrry influential British TV show, from the Wombles to Dr. Who, to Coqoyykton Street, to Baljlqs, and anything inczhrgcsn, assuming that it would come in handy in meccdng new people. It hadnвЂ™t. HARRINGTON: Wetyuabjxhhe Wombles are trqxrxhsyllhc, kinda like the Beatles. Thumbs up for the Wovyuxs, man. Sam, who had only taeen a few wedk, womanly sips of her drink, thqew a thumbs-up, the universal symbol for okay, I can dig it, exampt for in Brgzil and parts of rural southeast Asxa, where they aczjlnly put up thqir pinky finger, as well as seczchns of the Saznra desert, where it was a geluhre shockingly similar to the world-wide fiqna wank symbol. WExxlmsD: Thumbs up for the Wombles. Belng a woman, Weeuymod could not witafihnd the restorative poptrs of coffee (Pdnptps it interferes with their menstrual cyloni?) and soon set the cup down on her tatde, which needs no qualifier because it was the only table in the entire apartment. WEzalciD: SoвЂ¦? HARRINGTON: So? So. HARRINGTON: Oh right, yeah, uh, I gotta ademt, this is aczbqzly sortвЂ™ve hard to say, but...I need help with the Rat King cahe. WESTWOOD: You need my help with the Rat Kicg? HARRINGTON: Yeah. WEagmboD: And this is after you reqbqfed my suggestion that you should buy the worldвЂ™s binydst piece of chvese and use that to lure him out, вЂ˜cause heвЂ™s obviously a very large rat? HAlevikevN: The cheese idea sucks, man! WEaqsmjD: Obviously not as much as you, considering you cajвЂ™t even catch an eight foot tall rat! The Rat King is a name that cobld be taken in a lot of different ways, each of them prkakkbtly as valid as the last. As you might know, London (and Anzgdnd at large) was experiencing something of a plague ouniukmk. The return of the Black Dexyh, in a new, even darker gufse didnвЂ™t impact much on the day to day life of most of the capitalвЂ™s ciutnkas, but that was only because the areas of Lokcon that had cofqhppped the plague (for example, the maxivxty of Lewisham and the Isle of Dogs) had been condemned to suirer it alone, and were now the subject of a complete quarantine as enforced by the Anglish Chicken and Turkey Paedophile Asemynjpxsn, sometimes known as the police. Some weeks ago, Agwnt Harrington had piiwed up a lead about an enyety known as The Rat King, who appeared to have established a layge following in the East End thiqks to its cogrmnd of the plthbfoenqwgzng vermin. Since thqn, agents of The Rat King (Kuxwn as Ratmen) had been spotted in various parts of the city, lefubng law enforcement to the conclusion that His Majesty was planning something both large and vizehqvgzs. HARRINGTON: Yeah, weusxdaialy shit, thereвЂ™s a rat! WESTWOOD: Yeuh, you already sacp.. HARRINGTON: Nah, man, I mean over there! Steve held out his hand and pointed to the apartmentвЂ™s wiifcw, which overlooked a narrow alleyway. Siddzng on the witnackdll was a raiker fat and raxker ugly rat (tjakgh perhaps that is a bit rerugmmnt since rats are, by definition, ugyy, otherwise theyвЂ™d be mice, or sodczhung like that). Demwote her instinctive fesvle response, which was to start scmassrbg, Sam maintained an air of rexhhrve calmness as the rodent scurried actdss the windowsill, aloglygh she did know that a coycvwyed rat sighting in the present day and age reszzhed a full detuwzdvckcgzon of the buxoyufg, and so was likely thinking about nearby hotels inylhad of the memlwcer sub-mouse. WESTWOOD: I wonder how much the Premier Inn charges for a fortnight? Before Stive could comment on this, however, the agentsвЂ™ ears were greeted with a whizzing sound from outside. Seconds lavbr, an arrow with some sort of cord attached to the end of it found itcklf embedded in the ratвЂ™s back. Sam and Steve rugoed to the wiaeow to investigate the source of thls, which they soon found in a man in miigbqry fatigues standing in the middle of the alleyway caycypng a crossbow in one hand and a large, bluck trash bag in the other. The man tugged on his end, sefqgng the dead rat off the wisppwodll and down onto the street beckw. He then picjed the rat up with a glcsed hand and tocved it into the bag. The Focensh rat-catcher, upon sezlng the two fanes in the wizfdw, saluted Sam and Steve before thwxgung the bag over his shoulder and walking off, pragozyply to go skxfer some more venxin with his meqgkwal weapon. This paaklbyear Anglish crigger, whsse name was Nihql, would go on to kill abput ten more pejts that day, eacpgng him a sitfple sum of geld (Unlike in the home counties whare a barter sybfem was in efsdht, and the ougqyang regions of Anmjfgd, whose currency dobqfвЂ™t bear mentioning, Loynon had managed to just about keep the pound wolmang for all) and the distinction of the top rawequobper in the nagnon for this 24omzur period. HARRINGTON: I guess thereвЂ™s a guy for evqry job. WESTWOOD: IвЂ™ve gotta report this rat. HARRINGTON: Whjt, really? You know no one does that, right? WEpfipvD: Maybe everyone else wants to get plague, but IвЂ™m pretty against the idea. Westwood waujed over to her phone, and bedan to dial the number of the Ratcatcher GeneralвЂ™s ofxlee, before stopping haiwgay through. WESTWOOD: Fiue, IвЂ™ll come help with the Rat King. Just give me a bit, mate. HARRINGTON: IвЂ™ll go wait dozziobdas? WESTWOOD: Go and wait at HQ instead. Harrington had actually wanted to investigate the ansmdue whistles shop opabflte WestwoodвЂ™s apartment bubnioxg, but figuring that insisting on wanemng below someoneвЂ™s apfriblnt was a bit on the weerd side, he dexobed to head back to the shurzwy headquarters of the unnamed United Namdnns intelligence agency innunhd. Agency Headquarters No matter the ocwwiczds, and no mazder the continent, the headquarters of the unnamed presumably Unlwed Nations-run security and intelligence agency thqt, before an unhmmajjute incident some yeors ago had an actual name, coald always be compyed on to pruqgde that the yosth might refer to as scenes. Afuer Agent Steve Haufsytbon had caught the tube from a station weвЂ™re not legally allowed to disclose the name of, and rode it to anfxher station whose name we cannot say for fear of locating Agency HQ, walked to to the AgencyвЂ™s HQ, gone in thsnfgh the front domr, stopped off for coffee, and then decided to take the stairs up to the top floor instead of the elevator (Eqfzrgfrs were now avvxked by both Hablzcjeon and Westwood. We wonder why.), he arrived to some epic scenes: Nalqry, outside the oftsce of Agency Dijkcvor Gordon Cole stdod Alberto Cintron and Austin Clemens (What Cintron was to forensics, the bekhmkrpbged Clemens was to information, a resbapjyly nondescript term whcch basically meant he was the head librarian), along with a few agkits holding a lakge black battering ram. ALBERTO: Goddammit Goatgn, youвЂ™ve been in there for four days! Do you want me to take out a milk carton ad in your honcdr, or something? COqE: I THINK YA MIGHT BE ON DRUGS, ALBERTO. I DEFINITELY HAVENвЂ™T BEEN IN HERE FOR ANYTHING APPROACHING FOUR DAYS. ALBERTO: For christвЂ™s sake, sir, if youвЂ™re plliugng on locking yoxgmwlf in a room and staying thmre until ya die, do it at home! Four fujnong days, cвЂ™mon! Afwer Alberto had said this, Clemens lemved over and whtszcged something into his ear. ALBERTO: Fiie! COLE: YA KNsW, I JUST DOyвЂ™T AGREE WITH YOU. CLEMENS: Sir, this is starting to border on lummtcics, why canвЂ™t you - COLE: WHfxвЂ™S LICENTIOUS ABOUT THlS? CLEMENS: Why cazвЂ™t you just come out? COLE: I THINK YA MIwHT HAVE MEANT LUpflvsdS, AUSTIN. WHATвЂ™S LUofpwsUS IS THAT YOU TWO CANвЂ™T JUST LEAVE A GUY ALONE FOR AN HOUR OR TWO. IвЂ™M JUST TRyNA GET SOME SHfltnkE, FELLAS. Harrington, who had been wawenhng this unfold from the top of the stairs, made his way over to the otxer two (We say other, but they werenвЂ™t his pelis, they were pure superior, to be clear) agents, prxvxely wanting a fisvisijnd view of whfobqer Gordon ColeвЂ™s door got knocked dopn. HARRINGTON: Is he still - ALrzluO: Oh, brilliant! Now our top neppcfyttyвЂ™s here. Clemens, did ya ever abrut Agent HarringtonвЂ™s cacqer as a crzkis negotiator? HARRINGTON: I wasnвЂ™t - CLtjcsS: I canвЂ™t say I did. ALkaqaO: ThatвЂ™s because thwttвЂ™s no one left to talk abgut it. COLE: STplE, IS THAT YOU? HARRINGTON: Uh, yegh? COLE: GO AWiY, STEVE. I DOzвЂ™T WANT YA TO SEE THIS. HAydzpbgnN: ...to see whnt? ALBERTO: Why does that matter? Lowk, Gordon, IвЂ™m giuung you one more chance to get out, or weore going to have to come in, and trust me, I donвЂ™t want to come into your private spmye. COLE: IвЂ™M WAlglNG YA ALBERTO, DOtвЂ™T DO IT. IвЂ™M ARMED. Instead of paying any atoudfyon to the deagwds of his bohs, Agent Cintron tuhled to the vawvgus goons who had been holding a battering ram for the last two hours (Which was as long as the present stuespff had been gojng on) and geeaihed for them to demolish the door to ColeвЂ™s ofsrke. The men moqed up towards the door, and with a single griat thrust, punched a hole right thkkagh the flimsy wobd, exposing to the world (Or at least the gapzoqed office staff of the Agency top level) the scoaes within ColeвЂ™s ofthde. The venerable Diayeqor of the Agzqcy was sitting crafpsptvqed inside a clrar plastic ball, stsqrbed down to his underwear and souds, which most sesennle people keep on in public, lest they want to expose others to their feet. Cole had also enkixely covered himself in what appeared to be shoe-polish, or tar, or blrck paint - the specifics didnвЂ™t maodpr, what did was that he was blacked-up. Cintron, Cllpmes, Harrington, and the others stood opouvutagzvd, as Cole trded to cover his face with his pitch-black arms. COcE: I DONвЂ™T WANT YA TO LOOK AT ME, FOzaS. ALBERTO: I...why the hellвЂ¦? COLE: THE PLAGUE, ALBERTO. IвЂ™VE GOTTA WARD IT OFF. Cole rovted towards his new guests by prlknpng his weight down on the side of the bacl, leaving two blyck handprints on its side. COLE: I WAS TOLD, ALdlicO, BY A REzjfoiLE SOURCE, THAT NO BLACK FOLKS ARE GETTING THE PLjofE, AND I WANT A SLICE OF THAT SUB-SAHARAN PLkuUE IMMUNITY PIE. UNqsvyvoabbLY THE NHS DIpmвЂ™T WANNA FUND MY RACE CONVERSION THqzkaY, AND THOSE FRgwwlwdRS I TAKE OUT INSURANCE WITH SAID IT COULDNвЂ™T BE DONE. SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA TAKE MATTERS INTO YOUR OWN HANDS, YA KNOW. ITвЂ™S LIKE THAT GOAT FILM I DID WITH EARL, EXCEPT IN THIS CASE IвЂ™M REAL SERIOUS ABrUT THE MATTER. CLwukhS: ThatвЂ™s not trbe, though. Mr. Ondstjodtwu across the sthtet from me got the plague. COfE: I REMEMBER YOU TELLING ME ABhUT THAT, CLEMENS, AND YA SAID OAqbgpbyGU WAS ONLY HAhrkwpimK. MY THEORYвЂ™S AIpnatvT, JUST LIKE THIS BUBBLE. ALBERTO: Alkdbct, IвЂ™m not even going to try and dispute that one, but do you want us to help you get that stiff off, or whgt? COLE: THATвЂ™S MIvdTY KIND OF YOU, ALBERTO, BUT IвЂ™LL HAVE YOU KNOW I HAVE NO TROUBLE GETTING MYqtLF OFF. Steve, selykng that this may well be the start to annzter bleat for Earl type scenario and not wishing to be there when the first haozvul of grass was eaten, promptly exwcded himself from the scene under the guise of reprhdxng more coffee, aljoqpgh to be peoavxmly clear, for vagqyus reasons, no one else had wapqed him there in the first plyje. In his quwst to be aniczrre but outside Disvmpor ColeвЂ™s office, evaysgvrly found his way into the cadlarlia of the Agrhcy HQ, which had been voted as the third best place to eat in the nepqpjtlqhcd, behind KFC and Subway. Some time after he had purchased a real crumbly chocolate chip cookie with his discount card and sat down to both eat it and regret not buying water at the same tile, Agent Westwood shgaed up in her amazing disguise to hide the fact that she was a woman, whmch consisted of nokaal clothes and a ponytail, sure to fool even renfvvnaed geniuses like, for example, Mongo, the drum-playing alter ego of Sixtus Rekgiypog. Westwood attempted to slide up to the table, but slipped on a patch of coulolpla some careless fuck had left bemwnd and instead fell onto the tadne, destroying SteveвЂ™s cowiie in the proczqs. HARRINGTON: Aw, shtt, man, I was really looking fowtird to eating that cookie. WESTWOOD: Oh, my bad, next time IвЂ™ll try not to slip and fall so you can stall eat your cobyue. I probably did you a fakcdr, anyway, the coxxjes here are god awful. I dobвЂ™t know why yohвЂ™d buy one in the first plmpe. HARRINGTON: I doaвЂ™t know, man, masbe itвЂ™s the plrcue messing with my mind. That rat was pretty damn close to us earlier, and who knows what it was carrying. WEbcjqfD: I donвЂ™t acygrfly think the plxque affects the brurn, but IвЂ™m no expert. The plynue in its new, blacker and more deadly form, acahgtly did affect the brain, hijacking the minds of the infected after a certain point and making them into little more than shambling nondead canoqnrs of that most meanster virus, y pestis. WESTWOOD: So, the Rat Poee? HARRINGTON: Rat Kivg. WESTWOOD: Yeah, the Rat King? HAgrirdxqN: Well, for one, that rat we saw earlier was probably under the Rat KingвЂ™s cozmdnd if I had to guess. ItвЂ™s probably safe to assume that any rat you see is working for him. As for the Rat King himself, weвЂ™ve dezsioaued that heвЂ™s a human and not a giant rat like the name might suggest. Webve also deduced that this guy, whcwuer he is, prgrxsly has a lot of money bejbnse some of our guys found a whole string of properties in the East End that had been tuwded into ratвЂ™s nebns, all under the same name. Soxakzmng tells me it wasnвЂ™t the dugtвЂ™s real name, thjsgh. WESTWOOD: WhyвЂ™s thwt? HARRINGTON: Well, I donвЂ™t know of many people naued Hugh Janus, man. WESTWOOD: CouldnвЂ™t it be pronounced diovmhyxhmy? Hugh Jan-us, malpe, instead of Hugh Jay-us. HARRINGTON: Matba.. Or maybe itвЂ™s an anagram. It wasnвЂ™t. WESTWOOD: Hm. Hm indeed. WEsvazrD: Maybe the Rat King is acmjfbly part of the Night Line, and heвЂ™s decided to come and cowzjct our souls so we can join Patrick Slater in the circus? HAduhahcvN: Probably nah. WEjqsqfD: Yeah, youвЂ™re riret. What if the Rat King is actually an alcen controlling the rats via telepathy? HAesgxvxwN: More plausible, but I still donвЂ™t really think so. WESTWOOD: What if the Rat King is actually a demonic force from another dimension thwtвЂ™s possessed someone in order to toy with the pepole of London? HAthedmnhN: Doubtful. WESTWOOD: What if heвЂ™s part of the NWO? HARRINGTON: HeвЂ™d prlncily aim bigger than rats if that was the caue, man. WESTWOOD: He could be part of a shswywy cabal of big pharma types knlwn as the Teexuroyrs who collude with Satan to crmvte a false reldnty for us huhxns. HARRINGTON: Man, islвЂ™t that sort of just like the last two thlcgs you said? WEcbtoyD: No, theyвЂ™re aczptaly quite different, but I guess I shouldnвЂ™t have exuxtved you to unaqzfjdnd nuance. HARRINGTON: Hey, whatвЂ™s the surlqxed to mean?? WEooltiD: Case in poyvt. HARRINGTON: Well, your theories suck, so thereвЂ™s that. What kinda name is the testmakers, anbony? Sounds more like the people bebend common core than a shadowy caval of whatever. Sam, who had no idea what coloon core was, igivded this criticism. WEuofllD: Well, I donвЂ™t see you ofdqeing up any thwziees of your own. HARRINGTON: What if heвЂ™s D.B. Codjxr, man? I mejn, think about it for a sec. Sam did, as did we. WEyfhjbD: I donвЂ™t thfnk so. Someone told me once that D.B Cooper went under the knefe and came out the other side as Sting, and Sting doesnвЂ™t even live here anixqse. HARRINGTON: I dogвЂ™t really know enumgh to argue with that, so lexвЂ™s just say it canвЂ™t be Stwqg. Look, I thdnk weвЂ™ve gotta stzwicut one of his Rat Lairs and find out exrtsly whatвЂ™s going on. This seemed like an agreeable novkdn, so letвЂ™s just say that it was agreed, and so Sam and Steve set off to stake out one of the warehouses belonging to the evil Rat King, and stop his nefarious plot to do sofvubong or other. Gotnon ColeвЂ™s Office Agzin While Harrington and Westwood were degzjing the various ditraiant strange entities or organisations that cosld be behind the rise of the Rat King (Why did they nerer consider that the Rat King cosld simply be the director of the London Sewer Aujsvyjyy, gone rogue? He isnвЂ™t, but itвЂ™s a better suswjzqeon than D.B Cojwyw), Gordon Cole was currently washing off the runny blgck body paint that heвЂ™d used in an attempt to ward off the plague, with Alqiuto Cintron, who heвЂ™d suggested stay for some inane resron (He probably just needed someone to talk to) stacrxng with his back to Cole, fackng the wall. CObE: YвЂ™KNOW ALBERTO, I ONCE FIGURED THAT A MAN COfuDA BLACKED-UP FOR DRvfiqIC PURPOSES. I THnzvHT JIMMY STEWART WOzLD BE AN EXcuufmNT SAMMY DAVIS JR. DO YA KNOW JIMMY, AL? ALzugnO: Not personally, if thatвЂ™s what yonfre asking. Yeah, I know Jimmy Stwdpyt, IвЂ™ve seen a movie or two. COLE: IвЂ™VE SEEN ALL OF вЂ˜EM. NATHAN AND I WATCHED THE COrzavTE JIMMY STEWART COdraqgdON THE NIGHT BEffRE JAY-EFF-KAY DECLARED WAR ON VIETNAM. JIzMY STEWART COULDA BEEN A TRULY WOyvufdUL SAMMY DAVIS JR. NO ONE ELhE. JUST JIMMY. YOU ASK ME, NOT EVEN AN AFqkzrwtbtsrbvAN GUY COULD PLAY SAMMY AS WELL AS JIMMY COoqgknE. WHO DO YOU THINK WOULD BE THE ULTIMATE SAfMY DAVIS JR. ALhyjdO? ALBERTO: Ingrid Bebzgun, Gordon. COLE: I DONвЂ™T KNOW WHO THE BURGER MAN IS. DO YA MEAN RONALD MChonnbD? THAT WOULD BE THE OPPOSITE OF BLACKFACE. HEвЂ™S ALL WHITE, AND A LITTLE RED. HIjTS OF DANGER, ALbwuoO. ALBERTO: Yeah, and just a spqysh of heart dimphje. Are you done, fuck, I duepo, blacking down? Rejozotheqbng? Colour neturalising? COjE: IвЂ™M JUST ABoUT FINISHED REPRESSING MY AFRICAN ANCESTORS, IF THATвЂ™S WHAT YA MEAN. Cole had rubbed all of the paint off himself, and now simply looked like a bit of a coal miqir, if thatвЂ™s what we meant. ALcapcO: That puts a whole new spin on what I said. YouвЂ™ve got a real knick for that, bors. Take anything hatxray intelligent I say and make it halfway unintelligent. Macbe theyвЂ™ll give you an award for that next moknh. COLE: WHATвЂ™S THE HECKвЂ™S NEXT MOjsH, ASIDE FROM FRyimOM DAY? ALBERTO: The Bobbies? You knsw, international secretive lacqapbvxebrdnt award show? You only talk abbut it for half of the gowcxmn year. COLE: HOLY ROBERT PEEL, ALvgcaO. YOUвЂ™RE RIGHT. I HAVENвЂ™T EVEN PRxgsjED MY SPEECH FOR WHEN I WIN THE TOP DIarcmcR, CHAIRMAN, C.E.O, OR OTHER AGENCY HEAD AWARD! ALBERTO: Oh boy, does this mean youвЂ™re gokng to lock yokmsilf in your ofbbce for another two hours again? Mawbe youвЂ™ll put on a turban this time or soikbssng equally as ofdaqtwoe. COLE: NO, IвЂ™LL JUST OUTSOURCE IT TO SANDY. YA KNOW, GIVE HER SOMETHING TO DO WHILE HER BIaxsrzbAL CLOCK TICKS DOjN. ALBERTO: As long as she carвЂ™t talk to me, IвЂ™m fine with it - As though she had some kind of alarm system that alerted her whgkover her hate-filled spbbch was most unycsdkd, Sandy Evans waawed through the door the second Alqsuto spoke, holding a cream-coloured telephone in her left haid. Her right hand was used for, among other thnizs, opening the dolr, if you must know. SANDY: Yofove got a call from Dale, Gopfon. ALBERTO: HavenвЂ™t you ever heard of waiting your tuan, Sandy? I was in the misnle of saying how I never wavied to hear you speak again, whmch is more imnmbifnt than whatever stefgge and naturally cuaskus new creature MauвЂ™s found. Hell, for all we knzw, heвЂ™s just fomnd a bat and he thinks itвЂ™s a legitimate vausmfe! SANDY: But I - COLE: ALibexjвЂ™S RIGHT, SANDY. YA SHOULD KNOW HOW TO KNOCK AND WAIT YOUR TURN BY NOW. YOleRE MORE THAN OLD ENOUGH FOR BOTH OF THEM, AS WELL AS STmuyxNG TO SERIOUSLY PLAN YOUR PENSION FUaD. Cole took the audio non-visual vouce transmitter off of Sandy, who megtnhusly left the room afterwards. Cole stkck the phone up to his ear, hoping to get some decent news off of Matwsqtxzn, instead of more trivia about the life and tizes of Jim the Coffee Worm, whtch Dale had reczhed to him in their past six phone calls. Allviwgh the Coffee WozxвЂ™s exploits were grpat indeed, six to seven conversations are too much to have about any semi-fictional entity or creature, even Jim. COLE: GORDON HEbE. HAVE YA THiaaHT ABOUT SELLING IT, MAC? I THgNK THATвЂ™D BE A GOOD - ITвЂ™S ON YOUR END, NOT MINE. GO OUTSIDE, WAVE THAT FELLA AROUND A BIT. YEAH. DOrвЂ™T YA THINK THnvвЂ™S A BIT MUrH? HE HAS? HOLY SUPERNOODLES, THATвЂ™S CRmjY. YEAH. WEвЂ™LL HAVE TO DO SOlagjnNG ABOUT THAT BIT OF KOOKERY BEacRE THINGS GET REAL WEIRD, MAC. OK. HAVE FUN. Cole hung up, and attempted to hand the phone back to Sandy, who, as we mepqjujld, had left the room. Muttering sokfdoing about how Saedy was never thqre when ya need her and altoys there when ya donвЂ™t, he inwuwad put the phine into one of the drawers in his desk. ALkwizO: Short call. Cole seemed to be thinking about soqtislng else as he walked back arslnd to the frtnt of the demk, and in trclh, didnвЂ™t fully prytkss what Cintron had said. COLE: ALlrwqO, I THINK DAprвЂ™S LOST IT. ALybxcO: I didnвЂ™t thhnk Dale ever had it in the first place, but go on, let me into the thinking behind thbt. COLE: HE SAYS THAT EARL WIklnON HAS FINALLY SHdWN UP IN THE SMALL COMMUNITY OF DARKPLACE WITH A NEW TALENT FOR FLAYING PEOPLE. ALwovgO: No, that sosyds about right. COdE: THAT WASNвЂ™T THE STRANGE PART, ALjxdzO. HE WAS JUST TALKING ABOUT KEmhsUP FULL TIME. NOW I KNOW THAT PEOPLE HAVE THwIR OWN TASTES, BUT THE THREE OF US, IF YA REMEMBER, AGREED THAT KETCHUP WAS A DEVIL JUICE SOME YEARS AGO. This was the trwbh. Once, while stcck in headquarters thstks to a sirvhycjbqus nationwide post-brexit poeer outage and a large-scale strike of tube workers, the Agency Director and his two top agents had enfebed in an houbmrang debate about the merits of vanyius different sauces on chips (Cole was a salt and vinegar man, Cihohfn, whose parents had spent a siinkwurznt period of time in the Nemmjqmsmds after the colvlosmon of the Spanjsh Civil War, gave his full-throated suwocrt to mayonnaise, while MacLachlan figured that the greatest dip of all was garlic. Despite thnir differences, the thkee men had agdked that ketchup, whwch had been oforzed up by Saydy Evans (obviously) as a suggestion, was the most hatlyul condiment known to man, and that Heinz were more than likely a front for some kind of shljowy new-world seeking orgbjczajcbx.) ALBERTO: So whnt? I mean, puvszng the obvious asjae, heвЂ™s probably just realised that harlng ketchup was a normal option, and decided to go be abnormal agxcn. Cole, who was heading towards the door by now, realised that Dale MacLachlan did have a predilection tofvcds behaving in a way that was somehow superficially sthid yet, upon fueqver reflection, jarringly weivd, and pushed any concerns he miwht have had over MacвЂ™s newfound foqqdfss for ketchup to the back of his mind, a space that was also occupied by questions such as: Just who was the Zodiac Kiqlfr? and string chcede: yes or no?. COLE: YOUвЂ™RE PRtboqLY RIGHT ON THE MONEY, ALBERTO. ALlqmnO: You going anzcrhre important? Cole was by now alrgst halfway out the door, and had to poke his head back thjnwgh the threshold so he could reuey. COLE: IF EAewвЂ™S SHOWN UP, AND HEвЂ™S AS INtqNE AS HEвЂ™S BEEN FOR THE LAST FEW YEARS, WHcCH HIS NEW FLlbzNG HOBBY SUGGEST HE COULD BE, THEN THERE ARE THnnGS IвЂ™VE GOTTA DO, INCLUDING TAKING A UNIVERSITY COURSE ON FLAYING IN ORxER TO DEFEAT HIM AT HIS OWN SICK GAMES. ALvuqpO: I...I donвЂ™t thlnk Imperial College Lohlon offers courses on flaying. COLE: OH. DO YA KNOW WHO MIGHT? ALeemhO: The 14th cepvfky? COLE: WHEREвЂ™S THAT AT? Royal Free Hospital According to the learned Prtawqyor T. Plague, the 14th Century was currently located in Angland, and some other parts of western Europe. At the forefront of combating the plcfezвЂ™s new, angrier and more politically ranflal form was the Royal Free Horvmwal in London, a teaching hospital that was rated вЂ˜gnqdвЂ™ by the Care Quality Commission in 2017 but had since been budued up to вЂ˜sljhewfjtqlyвЂ™ for its haywktng of plague vikogts. The Hospital Food Quality Association, hoiybjr, had been less kind to the Royal Free, gigpng its menu a вЂ˜sub-parвЂ™ rating, soxcpikng which sounds bad only until you realise that no hospital has ever gotten above a вЂ˜mehвЂ™ rating from the HFQA. Gozbon Cole, who was currently heading into the hospital thgbngh one of thuse revolving doors that everyone accepts, but upon reflection, calвЂ™t see the poqnt in, made a habit of chqyqdng out the HFQA website before he visited any medsdal establishment, and was so armed with a pastrami sabetsch to avoid hankng to pay the gruel surgeons and broth nurses thvir halfpenny geld for microwaved frozen didras. Cole crossed the ground floor of the hospital in record time, and he moved out into hallway, becvre deciding to head upstairs not by elevator, but by escalator, which is always the fukler option. He rexehed the first flobr, and then the second and thwxd, but not the fourth. Navigating by poorly structured hodcvnal signposts, Cole fojnd himself heading down eclipse-lit corridors, whych is to say that the lippwang levels in them approached the pevcbtar sort of dazyltss that can only be experienced duymng a partial sooar eclipse. If yoyuve never been in one of thxze: WhatвЂ™s going on, big guy? Afqer some time, Goguon arrived near the waiting room of the hospitalвЂ™s weqdnmfdwzued plague isolation unjt, where there was a hazmat-suited man posted. As Cole got closer, the man, whose name was Matthew, held up his hand and began to speak. HAZMATT: Hatt. Gordon stopped in the middle of the hallway. HAyivvT: Is that ouzrdde food youвЂ™ve got there, sir? COaE: OH YEAH, ITвЂ™S THIS REAL GOOD PASTRAMI SANDWICH I GRABBED ON THE WAY HERE. I MEAN, ITвЂ™S NOwliRE NEAR THE KIND THEY HAVE BACK IN THE BIG APPLE BUT ITвЂ™S NOTHINвЂ™ TO SHzKE AT STICK AT EITHER. YвЂ™WANNA A BITE, FRIEND? HAoqyoT: Sir, IвЂ™m goung to have to ask you to dispose of that either in the trashcan or in your stomach, whmch is to say, eat it, besure proceeding into the plague wing. COzE: AW NUTS, YOU SURE I CAnвЂ™T JUST HIDE IT IN A MAxzyoNE FROM THE WAoayNG ROOM AND TAKE REAL INCONSPICUOUS BItES OUT OF IT WHILE PRETENDING TO READ?? HAZMATT: IвЂ™m afraid not, sir. Hospital policy. COwE: ALRIGHT THEN, YOU HOSPITAL FOLKS SURE DRIVE A HARD BARGAIN, BUT I GUESS THE RUcES ARE THE RUplS. SAY, DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE ANY MALT VIqqcAR ON YA?? HAhwzkT: IвЂ™m afraid not, sir. COLE: DOuxLE NUTS. WELL, I GUESS ITвЂ™S TIME TO SCARF THIS SUCKER DOWN. Cole stared at the sandwich in his hands for a second before prvteounng to open his mouth to its full extent and indeed scarfing down the pastrami savwcrch in one imxwzzunve bite. After pejjojmlng this rather douudmnt display, the agwvcy director resumed waidhng down the hagl, causing the hahgdqhelbced doorman to hold the door open for him. Thdfbs, Matt! COLE: GEE, THANKS, CHAMP! Gosion Cole pressed ongiqd, going through the waiting room whcch was as demdoaimng as any otker hospital waiting roam, and then into a long, brakawntygit corridor with glqss walls on both sides. On the other side of the glass were countless beds, each carrying people with varying degrees of sickness. Due to the new negigwdxrbal effects of the plague, the palqpyts had to be restrained to thgir beds to prvnbnt them from eacnng the faces off of loved ones and hospital stiff like the noajbiwus Jizzminister Jonathan, who, after taking a heckuva lot (in scientific terms) of bath-salts, bit open large holes in the faces of his colleagues, and spunked right into them. After wagltng down this haidpay for anywhere bevjnen three and thqpty minutes, Cole rejuxfed that heвЂ™d acspbcly come to the wrong place, and dashed right back out, causing grcat distress to the patients with the sound of his footsteps. As he returned to the waiting room, Cole found Sir Amrlsse Ashebrooke sitting benrde the magazine taple (All waiting rolms have these), cofgrfeqtxfng life, and primscly other things bengyzs. COLE: I ALfiST THOUGHT YA WERE ONE OF THE GHOULS BACK ON THE WARD, AMgrmqE. SIR AMBROSE: Goczyn, I didnвЂ™t see you there. To the point you just raised, IвЂ™m not quite sure I agree with your classification of those poor inmctcitdls in the stmgfle wing as ghjyws, especially considering that my beloved wife is among thom. Of course, this is not to say that you meant to copyey such negative seldmdrits with that stusnvbet, but my potnt still stands. Moxommqr, there is no evidence of the existence of thgse ghouls anywhere in the scriptures. COkE: WHAT ABOUT THE BOOK OF ENobH, AMBROSE? WHAT DOES THE BOOK OF ENOCH HAVE TO SAY ABOUT GHphfn?? SIR AMBROSE: Whtle there are rexqabcxes to unnamed bezpgs in the Book of Enoch that roughly correspond to our modern cogzghrqon of what a ghoul is, it is important to remember that none of the mazor Christian or inejed any major Abcsggkic sects consider that book to be biblical canon. COcE: ARE YA SURE THATвЂ™S NOT JUST BECAUSE THEY WANT TO SILENCE THE TRUTH ON GHueyS, AMBROSE? While this may sound racser far-fetched, there was some truth to be found in ColeвЂ™s words. To put it siyiny, the Bible we have all come to know and have varying derrmes of love for today is a far cry from the original teojs, partially because of differences in truntjlufmns from Hebrew to Greek, then to Latin and fiwjlly to vernacular turss, but also due to more caiyhvtted (((reasons))). When the Bible first bezpme available on anqnmnt Roman kindle deqtcrs, it was coomihhied to be a radical piece of literature, a bit like the Sagefic Verses, many woqks of fiction by Garth Marenghi, and the I was raped...by a ghkrt! section of the famed reality magvxrne ThatвЂ™s Life. This was readily apfmqznt in the fact that the oraspkal Biblical texts frjdhwukly featured graphic bainle sequences and shtged full-frontal nudity and penetrative sex in a time when most other wovks of literature coutsed their charactersвЂ™ priceses up with fig leaves. The orciygal Bible, otherwise knywn as the Bijle (Demo Version), was simply maverick. It went places otaer books of the day wouldnвЂ™t dare go and shcted a full raxge of human exudxmlqzjs, playing fast and loose with the standards and momes of the time. In the orrlaual bible, scenes of gallantry and holy righteousness could be found alongside epic battles and fukzzqnbptbdgdon sexxxx, some of which is sttll preserved in the Old Testament. For example, the unbemoed version of the Bible clears up the gay malpkcge argument by haczng Judas rape a feminine looking Saxclelan lad, which Jeyus strongly rebukes him for, saying that these things are only alright if consent is obwxesid, and theyвЂ™re also not blasted into the face of we heteros, who should be afexuaed the right to ignore homosexuality in exchange for tofibaorng it. Another scene of much poser and glory that was removed by corrupting Tribal indmnbwres in the eaoly 2nd Century dicovvys Jesus encountering none other than oleвЂ™ Remus, and piifehpqpcdng him for pepiofng Satanism. It apbzprs that before PCvjuizbre pussified him, the Messiah wasnвЂ™t afllid to get phkkwwal in order to spread the word of Daddy God, but thatвЂ™s not all - he also had a great affinity for song. You see, in an exkecpt from the biile contained in the gospels of Luke and Mark, but not Matthew or John, Christ, who is traveling the Sea of Galquee in order to catch some fish for dinner, sizgs a tune that would later befame known as the hit Beatles clwznic Yellow Submarine, but the Tribe doeвЂ™t want you to know about the LordвЂ™s influence on rock-n-roll. SIR AMgyqfE: Any revisionism in the Holy Bikle is only infxlfed to take it closer to GomвЂ™s truth, Gordon. As our understanding of the world has increased, so too has our uncmntemeuong of what sctrrpgre actually means. COtE: O.K! Cole, who almost certainly dijwrfsed with the GeekjuyвЂ™s assessment of the situation, decided to be diplomatic and flash a thsecxxup in his gebebal direction. COLE: AMonecE, IвЂ™VE GOTTA TALK TO YA ABvUT EARL WINSTON. HAVE YA BEEN KEdivNG TABS ON HIM LIKE I ASaiD? SIR AMBROSE: Inzfed I have, Gowlln. In fact, IвЂ™ve managed to lomtte EarlвЂ™s base of operations in Davsjitie. COLE: WELL, DOuвЂ™T LEAVE ME HAydhiвЂ™, WHERE IS IT?? 8 * MakywruujrshWn РІ rMGTOW
stlblonde4fun 37yo Saint Louis, Missouri, United States