A Tale for the Modern Attention Span
Daedalus Bolt sat at the end of the bar drinking a beer and a scotch, watching the clean-up crew clean-up around him. (Daedalus spends so much time and money at Chez Pussy, he’s treated like a de facto owner. After the other customers have gone, he’s allowed to walk behind the bar and serve himself as much as he likes.)
While sitting there he thought, She’s still in the building.
After the incident, some of the girls had taken her to the back and she hadn’t yet emerged. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see her, but he wasn’t about to disrupt his nightly routine due of her presence.
He was in the process of trying to coax some fire from his solid gold zippo when he heard the rasp of a disposable lighter behind him. He turned and Trixie Testosterone held a flame up to his cigarette.
“Thanks,” he said, leaning in.
Daedalus exhaled a massive plume of smoke.
“So you want to tell me what the fuck that was all about?”
“What do you mean?” Daedalus asked innocently.
“Fuck off. I’m talking about that psycho attacking me and you know it.”
“What makes you think I can tell you anything?”
“Well, for one thing you told the bouncers he was your brother and—even more intriguing as far as I’m concerned—he called me ‘Chastity’, which is exactly what you called me the other night. So what gives?”
Daedalus sighed. “Well Chastity, I’ve been wanting to ask you the same question for a long time.”
She sighed back with relief. “Finally. Someone who knows who the fuck I am.”
“What do you mean?”
“As far as I’m concerned I dropped out of the sky two years ago. I don’t remember anything about my life before then. I found myself in a city out west with no money, no job, and no idea who the fuck I was.” (Though it was difficult for Daedalus to suppress his astonishment each time his former sister-in-law used profanity, he managed.) “I got a job in a club out there, and ever since I’ve been working my way around the world in shit holes like this, waiting for someone to tell me who I am.”
“I’m surprised no one recognized you until now.”
“Why? Was I famous?” Trixie asked eagerly.
“I knew it!”
“Then again,” Daedalus said musingly, “the people who would have recognized you for your accomplishments are not the type to frequent a place like this.”
“But you recognized me.”
“I am a special case: A wealthy alcoholic who forgoes the jet set in favour of seedier companionship.”
“You prefer the country club to the country club,” Trixie punned.
“So if you know me, does that mean I was rich too?”
“Yes, you were very wealthy,” said Daedalus. He flicked his cigarette against the edge of the ashtray, clearly relishing the drama of his announcement. “You see, the man who assaulted you, my brother, is one of the wealthiest men in the world and you, Trixie Testosterone, were once Chastity Bolt, his wife.”
Trixie almost swooned off her barstool. “I was married to that asshole?”
“And I was one of those tight-ass society bitches, always drinking fucking tea and planning charity balls?”
“You were their queen.”
“No fucking way,” she said incredulously. “Oh brother-in-law, I've got to hear more of this shit. But not here. Let’s go back to my place.” And then Trixie Testosterone grabbed the hand of Daedalus Bolt—a life form she once despised more than any other—and led him out the door.
Continue reading: Episode 17: In Which a Bolt Gets Screwed