Damn, she's gorgeous, - Flora admitted, despite the sting of embarrassment and a twinge of dislike toward the bossy She tried to push down her gloom by imagining sheep jumping over a funicular.
Too bad Manu and Vanna can't swing by to loosen things .. and help me deal with this beast.
Suddenly, the subwoofers cracked and spat out a piercing ultrasonic squeal. Flavius jumped from his seat and shrieked:
Who's there?! Is it for me? First, you try to poison me with this food, and now you torture me with sound?! Me?! What did I do?! I won't go down! – Dropping the bag he'd been clutching, he bolted
toward the ramp, snatching up a slipping ginger wig and leaving behind a couple buttons from his soft shirt.
Before anyone could recover, before Flora could even react, a voice blared from the speakers:
One- two! Mic check! We're ready – and you're about to feel how ready! Let the fiesta begin! – Lorenzo shouted cheerfully, signaling Camillo to launch the backing track on the laptop.
The well- known melody kicked in — but in a funky reinterpretation — and the two singers started moving slowly near the mic stands. They were miming doves flying out of their hands, and then sliding their palms along the floor, as if making ripples on water. Usually loud and boisterous, Lorenzo sang softly for once — but with a confident bass not normally his own — while the massive, burly Camillo blasted the yacht with his falsetto:
If it hadn't been for Cotton- Eye Joe, I'd been married long time ago!
They performed it in a jazz style. Unfamiliar. Beautiful. But Leilani still wasn't impressed.
— Excuse me, but are folk songs really the way you greet influential guests?
Flora ignored her. She had bigger things to worry about — like whether the creators of that song were gonna sue her for using it in the film. Once again, she regretted deciding to upload this whole film — which by the looks of the runtime was turning into a full- blown series — almost without editing.
Still, the cocky girl's remark didn't go unnoticed.
Leilani was annoying more than just Flora now. Evelyn had had enough — she jerked the camera up and down like she was smashing it on the girl's head — then, collecting herself, snapped:
— You lost your mind, sweetie? Want me to give you a tour of the yacht to clear your head a little? Huh, beauty queen?!
That cold steel tone sobered the assistant up quick. Leilani visibly deflated. Flora braced for a catfight, but the girl just quietly stood up and started pulling something out of the iconic package.
What emerged was a bottle of Krug Clos d'Ambon…, wrapped in its signature black foil. Flora bit her tongue in sheer awe.
Damn! Where'd she get the cash for that kinda luxury bubbly? Holy crap!
Okay, that was the kind of thought someone obsessed with money might have… but Flora was currently fangirling just as hard.
Evelyn's surprise wasn't because of the price tag or the fancy label — she had no idea this was luxury- grade stuff (though Flora made a mental note to maybe hit the brand up about the product placement — might get a bit of cash outta that). What stunned the aunt was the artwork.
What the hell did you do to the bottle?!
There was a tiny, neat little nose drawn on it. Below — a big bushy mustache. Then buttons, suggesting it was wearing a jacket. Right under the neck — a thick monobrow.
Who is this?! And why the hell ain't he got pants?! — Evelyn fired off, full speed as
What do you mean? — Leilani snapped — This was your idea!
Flora and Evelyn just looked at each other, flabbergasted, and then threw up their hands.
What do you mean - no- ? After one of your employees contacted me about the meeting (read: Manu showed up and explained who I was supposed to play), I got another call an hour later. There was this terrifying hissing sound, like a cobra, overlaid with a human I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. I was so shaken I actually remembered the exact words: She is from the ones who recruited you and seeks to feed on the innocence of your soul. Find the most expensive wine or other consciousness- draining drink in the tavern and give it the appearance of a living being, then bring it to the Ball of the Forsaken. We have spoken.-
Then they just hung up. I was pretty freaked out, but figured it must be from your crew. You're all creative types — dramatic behavior comes with the territory. — She paused, catching herself speaking way too proper, and corrected in a sharper tone: — and all this crazy crap of yours gets monetized well enough, so let's move it. The business world awaits. So does Kumys.
WHO?! — Evelyn My colleague, — Leilani pointed at the champagne — Forgot to mention, that same
person told me to call him that. I googled it. Apparently it's a fermented milk drink popular with Turkic and Mongolian people.
Wikipedia really is Always something new. — Evelyn deadpanned, as they all stared at the bottle — now revealed to also have sharp little elven ears drawn on it.
Deciding it was her moment, Flora stood up and offered everyone a tour of what she called the already prepped attractions and contests. From a pallet stage, clearly stolen from some department store's warehouse, a jolly medieval tune about ale was playing, and Evelyn loudly gasped — how the hell did these kids even know all those songs?
Seizing the moment, the director looped her arm through Leilani's and started showing her around, whispering on the way:
You're playing your role perfectly! To which Leilani replied: That'll be a thousand bucks for my services. Blushing hard, Flora offered:
Maybe Manu can pay you?
I already owe him money…
Now financially cornered, Flora wasn't so eager to throw herself into the presentation. She forgot she had real professionals ready to take over!
First, they walked up to a contraption with a dangling punching bag. Next to it sat Peyota, playing the finger knife game — with the toes of her left foot. Judging by the bloody smears, she was losing badly, cursing out her foot in rich, juicy bursts.
The moment she saw the - evaluation committee- approaching, she quickly yanked on her sneaker and jumped up with:
Dang, here comes a bunch of crybabies ready to whine bout their weak- ass
Excuse me? — Agent's assistant blinked, and Evelyn puffed up, barely holding in a laugh, thrilled for the chaos to come. It came faster than expected.
Without another word, Peyota lunged at the frozen girl and dragged her to the bag. She hit a button to release the latch, then grabbed Leilani's arm and — like a seasoned puppeteer — swung it at the bag. The punch was… unimpressive. Not that Flora would've done better, as she had to admit to herself.
Then the (former?) gangster chick stepped back and threw her own punch with full force — the bag nearly flew off. The numbers on the score screen shot up. The offended assistant turned away sharply and snapped:
Great way to welcome potential clients! One more stunt like that and your contract's as gone as your fingers. Mamacita, Am down to four — Peyota winked, clearly referencing her one- woman war with herself.
Hope you're enjoying the visit, — Evelyn giggled. — Do drop by
So this is how you treat business partners… — Copy said coldly, suddenly right beside Flora jumped — where did she even come from? That uncanny talent for sudden appearances must've been standard for business people like her. Copy kept scolding the amateur: You're filming contract negotiation So act accordingly. Even with noobs like her, — she waved vaguely at Leilani, — and especially with fools like that one. — She gestured toward Flavius, who came sprinting over, practically leaping onto the swaying deck and yelling:
You wanted to show me something?! Well, let's go! What are we waiting for?
Somehow, everyone got swept up in his manic energy and followed him to a fenced- off area where Vanna was already waving excitedly.
Over here, folks! The party's just getting started!
Arkham… — muttered Copy, and Leilani jumped in:
What now? More of your twisted games?