CSI: American Carnage (Wednesday, July 10, 2019)
BENEATH THE PLAINS – The silvery moon looms over miles of stunted corn, lending a hazy glow to the stricken crops. Bands of rabid raccoons snarl and attack each other near a few browning trees, and the raspy caw of crows crackles through the air. But beneath the ground, within the vast central plains complex, the lights are bright in the Atrium of Alarm. The Dark Ones sit before several screens displaying video feeds from East 71st Street in Manhattan, Palm Beach, Stanley, New Mexico, and Little Saint James Island. The Paris feed is down, for unknown reasons. My brother, the elder says, turning to his right, we seem to be entering a climax of sorts. His brother says, Please, don’t use that word, my brother, it is disconcerting. Apologies, the elder says, sipping his green tea. It is only that the Crafty Reprobate is in a pickle, canned in fluids of his own making. The younger says, My brother, that is disgusting. Please. I spent time on his airplane, they say, but I know nothing about anything and I know no one who knows anything or will know anything or could know anything about anything. The elder says, Yes, yes. I know, my brother, and none of our associates, not the arrogant vassal Greenspan nor the vassals from Saudi and Israel, not to mention the Eastern Despot and the Clinton vassals, the Lying Jezebel and so forth; not Bloomberg nor Cuomo, nor the thespian Baldwin, the singer Buffett, nor the insufferable toady Kissinger. None of them, not any of them knew or suspected a thing or knows anything now. Yes, they called him crafty. Yes they called him a deviant and a reprobate. But no one knew why. And what difference did it make? We are speaking of a man of wealth! The Gambler Showman used to host stripper parties in Palm with him, but that was all in fun, he says. And besides, everyone in Palm knew. Knew him, I should say. The younger brother is silent a moment. He says, Stripper parties? Dear god. It appears that photographs were seized, they say. They say that a compact disc contains photos of encounters between prominent vassals and the impoverished and destitute prostitutes recruited by the Reprobate. The elder says, I believe we and various Council members and associates may rest easy, my brother. They say that the legal firm of Kirkland, which has trained and nurtured so many of the greatest legal minds in the world today, remains focused on the Reprobate and stands ready to protect our interests, and the interests of all who share our interests. I say that metaphorically. The younger says, I have heard the same my brother. Kirkland is populated by those who understand our interests. At that moment, his eye is caught by movement on the video monitor. Look, my brother, it appears that there is activity on the island! On the Little Saint James screen, a group of workers can be seen carting pieces of furniture, carpet, and drapes to the center of a great lawn. A truck backs up and thousands of pages of documents are tossed onto the pile. A goggled workman in overalls climbs to the top of the mountainous debris, pours some kind of liquid, slips and slides down, and then tosses a match. The whole bursts into flame sending a billows of thick black toxic smoke into the air as the brothers watch in silence. – Wednesday, July 10, 2019