"Listen, Hardy, you're the storyteller, and you know what it's like to be strapped for cash. Suppose you were an impoverished aristocrat, down to your last Breughel, and you needed the money but you couldn't bear to part with the thing – say it was a gift from Breughel himself to your great-great-grandfather for saving his life while on a bear hunt – how would you go about pretending the picture had been stolen, so you could claim the insurance, while actually keeping it safe somewhere?"
"If it was my great-great-grandfather Breughel gave it to, I must come from a mightily long-lived family," objected Hardy.
"Spare me the relentless literalism," said Arthur. "Just add however many greats you need. Would you hire a professional thief to do the job?"
"Only if I wanted to open myself up to blackmail. Why do you want to know? Are you planning to write a best-selling novel about art thieves? Do I have a literary rival?"
"No, it's more in the way of a thought experiment."
"I see. You mean a friend of a friend wants to keep a picture to themselves that would otherwise make a nice little present for Our Leader?"
BPE, and Tommy finally gets his come-uppance:
ZOE: Don't go, Tommy.
TOMMY: I'll be right back.
ZOE: Please?
TOMMY: I'm bursting.
He gets to his feet. ZOE flings herself on him and slams his arm down against the table. With her other hand she drives the knife several inches through his palm and into the table. TOMMY screams.
ZOE: You mustn't go, Tommy. I've never been able to tell anyone what it's like to be me before. I feel so much better about myself now. Eating people's brains is a valid lifestyle choice and I shouldn't be ashamed of it.
TOMMY: Zoe! You are not a fucking zombie! You're a live human being and if you eat me you'll be sent to prison for the rest of your life.
ZOE: Unlife.
TOMMY: Oh, Jesus! Look, Zoe, if you kill me, you won't get to go on Tell It Like It Is. You won't get to be famous. Don't you want to be famous?
ZOE: Don't make me laugh. How could I be famous? It's not like I'm pretty. No one would want to see me on their TV screen. I'm nobody. I haven't got any talents. I'm not special at anything. When I was a little girl I used to dream of being famous. Everywhere I went photographers would follow me. When I took the rubbish out to the bin they'd be hiding behind the garden wall, when I went to Sainsbury's with my mum they'd catch me at the checkout. Smile for the camera, sweetheart! But I've grown out of that. Now I know no-one could ever be interested in me. I don't want to be famous, Tommy. I want to be you!
TOMMY: But you can't be me! I'm me!
ZOE: If I eat you, I'll be you. I'll have you inside me everywhere I go.
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ninetydegrees
no subject
on 2009-11-18 10:17 am (UTC)"Listen, Hardy, you're the storyteller, and you know what it's like to be strapped for cash. Suppose you were an impoverished aristocrat, down to your last Breughel, and you needed the money but you couldn't bear to part with the thing – say it was a gift from Breughel himself to your great-great-grandfather for saving his life while on a bear hunt – how would you go about pretending the picture had been stolen, so you could claim the insurance, while actually keeping it safe somewhere?"
"If it was my great-great-grandfather Breughel gave it to, I must come from a mightily long-lived family," objected Hardy.
"Spare me the relentless literalism," said Arthur. "Just add however many greats you need. Would you hire a professional thief to do the job?"
"Only if I wanted to open myself up to blackmail. Why do you want to know? Are you planning to write a best-selling novel about art thieves? Do I have a literary rival?"
"No, it's more in the way of a thought experiment."
"I see. You mean a friend of a friend wants to keep a picture to themselves that would otherwise make a nice little present for Our Leader?"
BPE, and Tommy finally gets his come-uppance:
ZOE: Don't go, Tommy.
TOMMY: I'll be right back.
ZOE: Please?
TOMMY: I'm bursting.
He gets to his feet. ZOE flings herself on him and slams his arm down against the table. With her other hand she drives the knife several inches through his palm and into the table. TOMMY screams.
ZOE: You mustn't go, Tommy. I've never been able to tell anyone what it's like to be me before. I feel so much better about myself now. Eating people's brains is a valid lifestyle choice and I shouldn't be ashamed of it.
TOMMY: Zoe! You are not a fucking zombie! You're a live human being and if you eat me you'll be sent to prison for the rest of your life.
ZOE: Unlife.
TOMMY: Oh, Jesus! Look, Zoe, if you kill me, you won't get to go on Tell It Like It Is. You won't get to be famous. Don't you want to be famous?
ZOE: Don't make me laugh. How could I be famous? It's not like I'm pretty. No one would want to see me on their TV screen. I'm nobody. I haven't got any talents. I'm not special at anything. When I was a little girl I used to dream of being famous. Everywhere I went photographers would follow me. When I took the rubbish out to the bin they'd be hiding behind the garden wall, when I went to Sainsbury's with my mum they'd catch me at the checkout. Smile for the camera, sweetheart! But I've grown out of that. Now I know no-one could ever be interested in me. I don't want to be famous, Tommy. I want to be you!
TOMMY: But you can't be me! I'm me!
ZOE: If I eat you, I'll be you. I'll have you inside me everywhere I go.