9th Letter; video
[Franz is sitting in his darkened office. As usual, he casts a gentle glow across it. Though it's late at night, he seems to be drinking coffee.]
I can't believe it's only June 15th. Can wedding season be over now, please? [siiigh]
I'm from a time and place that doesn't exactly value morals or good taste. I'd be the first to admit that I've grown up half-blinded by all the tasteless, needless displays of wealth my friends' families were displaying near-constantly. I thought I was desensitized to the shallow, gaudy behavior of the over-privileged and under-intellectual.
I was wrong.
I was wrong and I have seen the face of despair. [Franz shakes his head, his hand over his face.] It is a grown woman with an unconvincing boob job and an orange spray-tan who is crying but can hardly show the expression through all the cosmetic surgery.
Why Franz, you're saying, how can you be so heartless? People who are mostly silicone still deserve to be treated with some human compassion, damn it! And you're usually so charming, whatever could you have done to break this woman's heart?
[A long, pendulous pause.]
I told an adult film star she couldn't ride a unicorn into her wedding ceremony. Not for the first time. Probably not for the fifteenth. My boss, wisely, has refused to speak more to her on the subject and is actually quite busy doing very important non-unicorn related things such as getting citizenship for newcomers. I'm beginning to suspect the club GM is an endangered species of human-sized vole that disappears into a set of clever exit tunnels at the sound of a bridezilla's spiked heel clicking in our entranceway.
[The following tirade is punctuated with some rather dramatic hand gestures. One might consider them sassy.] She came to my office tonight, this ridiculous harlot! She tried to sweet-talk me when I said there was no way to procure a unicorn, that it was simply impossible and besides, riding a horse in the dress she'd pick would ruin the line and possibly put her at risk for an indecent exposure lawsuit. And she said to me, simpering through a thick caked layer of makeup that surely cost more than a month's rent at the Newcomer Apartments - "Oh, but I've heard you can make miracles happen, everyone's said such wonderful things about you. It's my big day, can't you do this for me?"
She said this semi-pouted, attempting to drag my gaze down to the two-melons-in-too-small-a-bowl sight of her cleavage. I'm traumatized.
So I said to her, "Ma'am, with all due respect, it's not as if you're having a white wedding. Even if I found you a unicorn, you wouldn't even be able to see it, and neither would all the friends you're trying to impress. If you wanted to have a special communion with unicorns, you might've considered it before going into porn. Siren's Port may be filled with amazing supernatural things but as far as I know the Core hasn't given anyone the ability to get their virginity back."
That's when the histrionics started. I've ruined her big day. I'm a terrible person. I'm only doing this to her because I'm so sad and lonely and miserable in my own love life, and I just couldn't understand. [eyeroll]
I thought I might be in serious trouble, but just then her fiance called on her cell. She stormed away on important business - I believe it was an argument over whether or not they should have the cake decorated in gold leaf or to just take that gold and chuck it at the nearest homeless person and tell them to use it to protect themselves against the Darkness.
I officially loathe weddings.
I can't believe it's only June 15th. Can wedding season be over now, please? [siiigh]
I'm from a time and place that doesn't exactly value morals or good taste. I'd be the first to admit that I've grown up half-blinded by all the tasteless, needless displays of wealth my friends' families were displaying near-constantly. I thought I was desensitized to the shallow, gaudy behavior of the over-privileged and under-intellectual.
I was wrong.
I was wrong and I have seen the face of despair. [Franz shakes his head, his hand over his face.] It is a grown woman with an unconvincing boob job and an orange spray-tan who is crying but can hardly show the expression through all the cosmetic surgery.
Why Franz, you're saying, how can you be so heartless? People who are mostly silicone still deserve to be treated with some human compassion, damn it! And you're usually so charming, whatever could you have done to break this woman's heart?
[A long, pendulous pause.]
I told an adult film star she couldn't ride a unicorn into her wedding ceremony. Not for the first time. Probably not for the fifteenth. My boss, wisely, has refused to speak more to her on the subject and is actually quite busy doing very important non-unicorn related things such as getting citizenship for newcomers. I'm beginning to suspect the club GM is an endangered species of human-sized vole that disappears into a set of clever exit tunnels at the sound of a bridezilla's spiked heel clicking in our entranceway.
[The following tirade is punctuated with some rather dramatic hand gestures. One might consider them sassy.] She came to my office tonight, this ridiculous harlot! She tried to sweet-talk me when I said there was no way to procure a unicorn, that it was simply impossible and besides, riding a horse in the dress she'd pick would ruin the line and possibly put her at risk for an indecent exposure lawsuit. And she said to me, simpering through a thick caked layer of makeup that surely cost more than a month's rent at the Newcomer Apartments - "Oh, but I've heard you can make miracles happen, everyone's said such wonderful things about you. It's my big day, can't you do this for me?"
She said this semi-pouted, attempting to drag my gaze down to the two-melons-in-too-small-a-bowl sight of her cleavage. I'm traumatized.
So I said to her, "Ma'am, with all due respect, it's not as if you're having a white wedding. Even if I found you a unicorn, you wouldn't even be able to see it, and neither would all the friends you're trying to impress. If you wanted to have a special communion with unicorns, you might've considered it before going into porn. Siren's Port may be filled with amazing supernatural things but as far as I know the Core hasn't given anyone the ability to get their virginity back."
That's when the histrionics started. I've ruined her big day. I'm a terrible person. I'm only doing this to her because I'm so sad and lonely and miserable in my own love life, and I just couldn't understand. [eyeroll]
I thought I might be in serious trouble, but just then her fiance called on her cell. She stormed away on important business - I believe it was an argument over whether or not they should have the cake decorated in gold leaf or to just take that gold and chuck it at the nearest homeless person and tell them to use it to protect themselves against the Darkness.
I officially loathe weddings.