Hello again and welcome back to the inner monologue of Rosalina Vimentah. You should remember who I am from previously so there's no need for an introduction again.
As we communicate in whatever form this is, I am currently sat within the the recently renovated chambers of the Toovian town hall in all their hideously floral glory and I'm mid way through the “Young invest/ventors day for fabulous teens!!!” - I did NOT come up with that name – which, long story short, is a afternoon where gifted teens can present project ideas to wealthy business people like myself, to see if they have any potential.
You get the idea right? Kick start some young genius, show off local talent, bring some money into the area. This is several atmospheres below my pay grade but it was this or go to Duncan's fucking afternoon tea party and I'd rather wax all my fur off than watch that man's spittle barely miss me – repeatedly – so here I am.
Fortunately, I am in somewhat decent company, at least on one side. I am currently sat at the back of the hall with pleasant sunlight warming my back, stationed at a table thats overseeing the entire floor. To my left sits one of the more enjoyable men in my life.
“1 to the 2 to the 3 and to the 4, someone hasn't painted the top of that door.” He sings loudly and points to the far door at the end of the room as it swings open. He's right too, the very top of it shows bare wood grain. “Someone's done half a job but I bet they had a full smile. Shameful.”
This is Xenvar Le'Poauve but everyone calls him Le'Xen. Which makes no fucking sense but he likes it. He's funny, charming, attractive and makes smart business decisions, which makes him tolerable. Unfortunately, he loves jazz music, which means we're bitter enemies.
To my right sits the venerable and fat necked Marram Zuckcuz. A far too serious and rather dark human male who definitely has paid poor people to sell their organs to him. I really don't know why he's here or how he gets away with this but never-the-less, he's been glaring at these kids like he wants their spinal fluid and its honestly giving me the creeps, so I'm leaning a little closer to Le'Xen and he's being quite accommodating...
OH-MY-GOD. WHAT IS THAT?!? The doors have flung open and there's a team of teenagers dragging a bloody coffin into the centre of the hall... they're scratching up the hard-wood floors too! The awful thing is making this terrible screeching noise as they decimate the lacquer on the floor and its making all the staff nearby shudder.
“I swear I've heard you play this one at your place, Le'Xen...” A give him a cheeky wink and I see him pop a slight smile. You know it was funny Le'Xen, don't be coy.
“Well this would sound like music to your unrefined ears, wouldn't it Rosa?” He winks back and relaxes in his chair a little. Well played but I won't let this go.
The teen team finish dragging their coffin of all things into the middle of the floor and three of them stand in the centre of the room, waiting for us to inquire about their invention of business. Kids, I can assure you, you did not invent death. That was actually Marram.
“Welcome young inventors!” Le'Xen calls out with slightly wavering passion, he's trying, bless him. “May I ask why you've brought such a dark item into this wonderful hall today?”
“Hell yeah ya' can!” The middle one calls out, his voices cracks slightly. To his side, the slightly smaller girl gives us a thumbs up. The guy on his right stands there with his arms folded, I think he's trying to look tough but he looks like his mum has asked him to do the dishes and he's threatening to kill himself for what awful agony his life is.
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“We're the #Death Crew and we're putting the DJ in death-”
“Djeath?!” Marram interrupts, I've never seen him do that. He almost looks excited... Does he have a semi...?
“Bless you.” Le'Xen gets a smirk out of me with that, GAH, he saw it too. “I don't believe there is a J in death but please continue.”
“Yo, why is it that funerals gotta be sad and shi- and stuff? The death crew says that's lame as, bro. Instead of driving your dead peeps around all sad and shi- stuff, give the death crew a call and we'll take your dearly departed for a final joyride in our DJ DEATH MOBILE!”
Did this kid just seriously 'Yo'? At least he censored the end of 'shit' before he finished it. They unveil a drawing of a monster truck with huge speakers mounted to the back. Marram is pursing his fucking lips, this is the most animated I have ever seen him, he's usually a brick wall of organ theft and tax evasion... apparently he likes the monster truck hearse idea.
“So you could say you're putting the fun back in funeral?” Le'Xen scribbles something in his notepad as he speaks and the teens all turn to face one-another.
“Daaaaaaymn! Thats good! Can we use that?!”
“Sure. Knock yourself out. So am I right in thinking you want to change or perhaps challenge the perception that loss needs to be a sorrowful event? Spice up the day and make people smile instead of cry?”
They all nod furiously, he's just given them their marketing pitch for the next 10 years. They've painted a skull and cross-bones on the front of the coffin that has a glow stick in its jaw-line and small smiling faces within its eye sockets, remarkably classy I must say... I've also noticed that there's no room for a coffin on their... what was it... DJ death mobile? Oh god, maybe I should have gone to Duncan's thing. Then again, I can see the sweat building on Marram's forehead and that's priceless. I'm hedging my bet right now, he's going to reject their idea and do it himself anyway because he's a spineless sack of selfish shit. You watch.
Le'Xen turns to me and gestures for me to add something. Oh... he's adding something a little stiff to his drink under the table. I know that hand motion. Either that or he's got some weird circular movement to his self love routine.
“That is... interesting... tell me ehm... 'Death Crew', I've noticed on your vehicular plans that there isn't space on the chassis for a coffin, I thought the idea was to replace the traditional hearse.” - It actually stung my throat to say their name, although that might also be because of what Leech did to me... OK, no. No. NO. We're not thinking about that right now.
“Actually Ma'am, we've already thought of that. They go on the front.”
“O-on the front?” What. You have got to be joking.
“On the grill.”
OK. THIS IS OUT OF CONTROL. THESE KIDS WANT TO MOUNT A BELOVED DECEASED PERSON ON THE GRILL OF A MONSTER TRUCK AND MARRAM JUST LICKED HIS FUCKING LIPS. IT WAS QUICK BUT I SAW IT.
“Kids... do you think the families of the deceased person would agree to have their loved ones body mounted on the front of a monster truck and driven around for an hour? Won't they get... dirty? Or damaged...?”
“They're dead! What does that matter?” Spoken with true tact, no wonder Marram likes them.
“Uh-huh... Marram... anything to add?” I'm doing this on purpose, I want to know if I'm right.
“This is a reasonable idea.” He lip-smacks at the end. Sorry if i'm over focusing on his lips but they're the only thing that looks remotely human on him and moves like its made of flesh and not silicon. As he speaks, his one hand is copying the design of the truck onto his notepad rather accurately, admittedly, he's pretty good at that. One handed drawing/piracy whilst crushing the dreams of a bunch of teens, he runs a tight ship.
The kids eyes light up when they process what he's said. This is going to be painful isn't it?
“W-will you be investing?!” They all grab each-others hands nervously.
“No.” He speaks sternly with all the grace of a man that's powered by other peoples DNA. Told you. They look so defeated. A horrifying smile curls over his unblinking face, I guess if you can't have their kidneys, crushing their dreams will do instead...? I have legitimately had nightmares about Marram Zuckcuz.
“I'll cut you a deal kids, I'll give you a small investment to fund your idea under one condition.” Ohh, this I wasn't expecting. Le'Xen has stepped in. “You find a way to get a casket on that truck. I like the idea of challenging norms but I don't think you'll have any luck if you can't transport the body in a reasonable fashion. “
They huddle together and begin to discuss the offer. I can hear a lot of 'Yo's and '#notcool', I mean, I didn't think we were dealing triple digit IQ's here but they can't seriously be considering rejecting this offer can they? This is free money to buy a monster truck and speakers. All they have to do is put a coffin on the truck, there's loads of room...
“We appreciate yo' offer and advice and all that. But we gon' have to reject. We feel that the body onna grate is a vital- like- core part of the business and is like- the non-negotiable. So thanks to you and all your table homies but we gon' bounce.” The leader nods and for some reason, they flip everyone off with a particular focus on Marram before slowly and painfully pushing the coffin back out the door. We all remain in silence as the coffin screeches across the floor over many long, agonising seconds and eventually they get it out the door again, giving us all another middle finger before closing the doors.
Absolutely incredible.