Fand> I've never read Whit Oleander. =[ I want to, though! so, no.
Part DEUX!
The investigator looked uncomfortable. Maybe his tie was too tight around his neck, or he had realized just a little too late that his pants didn’t fit him anymore and the waistband was digging into his gut. Either way, he was making odd faces. Meshugenah thought that he might be constipated.
Meshugenah sat in the chair playing with a pen and trying to ignore the investigator.
“Is it true that you are the California leader of The Young Writers Society?” he asked.
She giggled a little bit, “No. And even if I was, why would I tell you? Where's the sense in that?”
The investigator, who Meshugenah finally realized was named Garret, raised his eye brow.
Meshugenah sighed, “If I was the leader of a covert operation, why would I fess up to it?”
Garret nodded like he actually understood this. He ran his hand through his sticky looking hair – perhaps he had gel in it? Either way it looked really gross.
“Yes.” Meshugenah rolled her eyes. “It's a wonderful website for young writers.”
Garret coughed. He didn’t like her eye roll, or her lack of respect for the investigation. “And it isn’t involved in terrorism?”
“Terrorism?” She looked confused for a moment. “You mean the Cabassi, no?” She paused for a moment and stared at Garret. He was scribbling something down on a note bad. Suddenly, Meshugenah sat up straight and said, “They are a covert group within YWS. I have no control over their actions.”
Again his eyebrow raised, “Why-double you-ess?”
“It’s an acronym.” She was thinking duh.
Garret continued about the investigation, “What do you know about the CCF?”
“Only that they are now attempting to charge for crits—a free service of YWS.”
Garret was going to ask something, since he didn’t understand a lick of what she just said, but he decided again it. Dang cult members, craziest people ever. “And what about SPEW?”
“SPEW? I know nothing of such a group.” Her voice was flat, and her face tried to look innocent. “Only a few members claim to be part of it; though, I do not know their intended purpose.”
He scribbled again in his notebook. Meshugenah thought he wrote, “I want another Big Mac for lunch. Not just one, this time,” but she couldn’t be sure.
“And who do you know that we could contact about SPEW?”
“I've heard my head of operations claim to being a ‘high-up’ integral part of it. Contact the Pig Lord.”
“Will do. And can you tell us why everyone goes by codenames?”
“Why not? Plus, I assume they believe it will make them harder to track.”
He spent a few minutes writing in his note pad and finally asked, “Do you know the member called Crysi?”
“Crysi? Oh yes.” She laughed, even snorted a little, “All too well, in fact.”
“So then, you could tell us that it is true she is/was taking flight lessons?”
“She is, in fact. Quite frankly, though, I don't see the appeal. I mean, who would want to fly when [s]world domination is[/s] it’s so much easier to stay at home, and use Google Earth to [s]spy[/s] see the same view?”
“Do you have any knowledge of whether Crysi is planning to use her flight skills to be a terrorist?”
“Crysi is a lose cannon. She could do anything from rescue kittens to dropping said kittens for SPEW sacrifice.”
“So then it is true that SPEW kills kittens? I thought you weren't in it/didn't know much?” Meshugenah noticed he liked to use slashed while speaking. He even verbalized it by saying, “I thought you weren’t in it – slash – didn’t know much?” She felt her inner grammar Nazi dying.
She shook her head quickly, “No, you're right. I don't know anything about SPEW.”
Garret looked more confused than ever. “But you just said that.....We recorded what you just said.”
“No I didn’t.”
He pressed rewind on the tape recorder and played it back. When her answer should have been heard, all that could be heard was, “I vote for Pat Buchanan.”
Garret tried to pretend he didn’t feel slightly crazy. “Well…” He fumbled to bring the tape recorder back up to speed. “Do you know the whereabouts of the leader, Nate?”
“Nate? Haven't heard from him in about two months.”
Garret was careful to write, “Two Months,” on his note pad next to the message about the Big Mac.
Meshugenah continued. “Every now and then, I'll get a message from him, but those aside, no. Where he is? I think he said something about [s]recruiting[/s] being attacked by a bunch of ten year olds.” She paused for a moment and seemed to be staring out into space, at something that wasn’t really there. “But I couldn't be sure. The [s]transmission[/s] email was rather abrupt.”
Garret finished scribbling something on his note pad then stared at Meshugenah. “You’re free to go.”
To be continued...
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Not as good as the last section, imo, but something to move the story forward. Many thanks to our dear 'Genah.
Hilarious, and brilliant as always, Clau!
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