Post by Addy A on May 16, 2020 15:03:23 GMT -5
Intermission
Adelaide Ainsworth stands atop the newest landmark of Las Vegas, the Action Wrestling Hall of Fame. The glorious exterior is a beacon of grandeur, even in a city with such fluorescent candor as Las Vegas. The artificial neon of a Las Vegas evening further accentuates the building’s beauty, a modern-day Neon Messiah.
Ainsworth drags a cellphone from the pocket of her black hoodie and begins dialing a number, moving it to her left ear as she waits for the recipient of the call to answer.
“Hey Sav,” she speaks into the cell phone held by her left ear.
Ainsworth paces amongst the air conditioning vents and access points across the roof of the building.
“Yeh, babe, I know it ain’t me normal fuckin’ number.” she talks to the unseen entity on the other end of the call.
Addy takes a seat on the edge of the building and looks down upon the streetscape below her.
“Sav, yeh, I’m on top’a tha fuckin Hall’a Fame. Bastards put fuckin’ bollards on tha street aye. Gotta find another way ta get what’s mine. But don’t fuckin’ worry ‘bout that aye.”
Adelaide pauses, listening to words coming from the other end of the conversation. She interrupts. “Sav, would ya shut up fah a second. I put a fuckin’ thing in our fuckin’ spot aye. I need ya ta send it somewhere.”
She listens to response, while the voice of the other end is conveying whatever message back to her she moves away from the edge of the building back towards the center of the rooftop where she has left a black rucksack.
“Yeh, Sav. Whatever. I love ya, but just fuckin’ do what I ask, fuckin’ please. Go ta our fuckin spot. I left ya somethin’, then go ta our other fuckin’ spot. There a fuckin’ note and some cash. Do what it fuckin’ says, and the get tha fuck outta dodge.”
She listens.
“Sav, this fuckin’ time, please. Fuck, I don’t need ya moral compass. I’m doin’ tha right fuckin’ thing, but I can’t do it without ya.”
Adelaide swings the rucksack over her shoulder.
“Just watch tha news, aye. Ya’ll fuckin see when tha time is right.” Adelaide assures Savannah, on the other end of the phone.
Adelaide tucks herself in behind one of the many industrial air-conditioning vents on the roof of the building.
“Thanks, babe.” Ainsworth ends the call and drops the phone to the ground, stomping on it with her heel. She picks up the destroyed cell and throws it inside the water-cooling unit before walking away with a look of consternation washing across her face in the moonlight.
Adelaide Ainsworth stands atop the newest landmark of Las Vegas, the Action Wrestling Hall of Fame. The glorious exterior is a beacon of grandeur, even in a city with such fluorescent candor as Las Vegas. The artificial neon of a Las Vegas evening further accentuates the building’s beauty, a modern-day Neon Messiah.
Ainsworth drags a cellphone from the pocket of her black hoodie and begins dialing a number, moving it to her left ear as she waits for the recipient of the call to answer.
“Hey Sav,” she speaks into the cell phone held by her left ear.
Ainsworth paces amongst the air conditioning vents and access points across the roof of the building.
“Yeh, babe, I know it ain’t me normal fuckin’ number.” she talks to the unseen entity on the other end of the call.
Addy takes a seat on the edge of the building and looks down upon the streetscape below her.
“Sav, yeh, I’m on top’a tha fuckin Hall’a Fame. Bastards put fuckin’ bollards on tha street aye. Gotta find another way ta get what’s mine. But don’t fuckin’ worry ‘bout that aye.”
Adelaide pauses, listening to words coming from the other end of the conversation. She interrupts. “Sav, would ya shut up fah a second. I put a fuckin’ thing in our fuckin’ spot aye. I need ya ta send it somewhere.”
She listens to response, while the voice of the other end is conveying whatever message back to her she moves away from the edge of the building back towards the center of the rooftop where she has left a black rucksack.
“Yeh, Sav. Whatever. I love ya, but just fuckin’ do what I ask, fuckin’ please. Go ta our fuckin spot. I left ya somethin’, then go ta our other fuckin’ spot. There a fuckin’ note and some cash. Do what it fuckin’ says, and the get tha fuck outta dodge.”
She listens.
“Sav, this fuckin’ time, please. Fuck, I don’t need ya moral compass. I’m doin’ tha right fuckin’ thing, but I can’t do it without ya.”
Adelaide swings the rucksack over her shoulder.
“Just watch tha news, aye. Ya’ll fuckin see when tha time is right.” Adelaide assures Savannah, on the other end of the phone.
Adelaide tucks herself in behind one of the many industrial air-conditioning vents on the roof of the building.
“Thanks, babe.” Ainsworth ends the call and drops the phone to the ground, stomping on it with her heel. She picks up the destroyed cell and throws it inside the water-cooling unit before walking away with a look of consternation washing across her face in the moonlight.