The mime woke up to his phone ringing. He
turned his head around and saw the red nose flashing on the table. He didn't
remember replacing it, but he must've done it before the man who beat him down
had turned up at the door. He got up nimbly and walked over to it and picked up
the receiver. "Yes?" he said into the receiver.
"Hi this is me again." The voice
of his client was un-mistakeable. At least, the disguised voice of his client
was unmistakable. "Hi there, what would you like?" He answered.
"I'd like to go over a few things with
you, if that's OK?" The client responded. The mime thought about it, it
was still a few months until the assignment.
"Yes, that's fine. Obviously you like
planning in advance?"
"There are a lot of variables for me
to manage with this particular meeting so I want to make sure everything is
straight at this point. At least, the basics. Are you confident in me asking
you some questions?"
"Yes that's fine."
"What is my name?"
"Kusa"
"Yes, but what is my "real"
name, the one you'll be giving at the meeting if people ask?"
For a second the mime was unable to think
of anything, then it came to him, "Your name is Rick. Richard."
"Just Rick is fine." Said the
voice then paused. "What is the purpose of this meeting?"
"For you to show your face, meaning
me."
"Yes and what impression should you
leave everyone with?"
"Just someone else from a chat room
they can identify with. Another face, another personality, to match the one
they had talked to."
"But better."
"But better, yes. I'm already making
notes of your written personality and tailoring your 'in person' personality to
best reflect your best qualities and quash anything that might.. be
misinterpreted over the internet."
"Oh?" The client seemed taken
aback by that, "Like what?"
"Well, mostly just the misinterpretation
of words, or if something is said in answer to something and your reply is
quite short, it can be taken as you being curt or annoyed when you really
weren't anything of the sort."
"MMhmm. Yes. Ok I can see that, that
would be satisfactory. And what will you eat at the meeting?"
"I will have one houers'derve and
drink nothing but water."
There was a short silence on the other end
before the client said, "Exactly. Excellent. I will talk to you in a few
weeks and continue to send you preparatory material. I hope this assignment
works out well."
"I assure you at will."
"Mmm." The line went dead and the
mime hung up the phone. Well, that was strange. Still, the client had a point,
he needed to really get into his preparation. He considered going to the gym to
get his adrenaline up but realised maybe that would be out of character. Or
would it? In his research he had seen that there were some internet talking
characters who liked keeping themselves in the prime of fitness. Although they
generally liked talking about it and he hadn't seen such a mention of fitness
in Kusa's chats. No, he would keep up with slighter exercise like regular
walking to keep his health optimum but he wouldn't indulge to a suspicious
level. That seemed best to him.
He settled down into a chair and pulled out
a copy of "The Savant Actor In Theory" and began to refresh himself.
He would really need to become this character, he made sure his clothing was
loose enough and then performed the practice exercises "Bacon in a
pan", "Egg frying in a pan", "Dog hot on the
pavement", "Hot dog in a bun" and "Baguette with salad and
extra brie" (this one was particularly hard, as you had to envision the
motivation of the brie in the context of the scene. The scene being the bread.)
The mime satisfied himself that he still
had his acting chops and then prepared himself a smoothie. He still remembered
how the hitman (he hated calling him that as he hadn't actually tried to kill
him and he didn't like stereotypes, but nonetheless, that's what the man
reminded him of) had made a smoothie and how nice it had tasted. He hadn't
brought any ingredients with him so it stood to reason that the smoothie had
been made with ingredients that he had himself so it was a matter of finding
those ingredients and trying to recreate that smell. He wondered what sort of
drink a hit-man would create. Probably a potent one. Definitely one that would
wake you up. He envisioned the smell again, it appeared in his mind like a 3d
drawing. He pulled it apart with his mind and his olfactory memory. It
definitely had no form of caffeine in it, so no need to add pinches of any of
his coffee grinds, or to rip up any bags of tea. He had looked in the bin and
discovered lemon peel and half squeezed limes. So he assumed they were in there
and his nose seemed to confirm it, however there was something else, something
he couldn't put his begloved finger on. He looked around his kitchen for
something he could zest the lemon on, as the original had obviously been
zested, however he didn't own a lemon zester. Sure the man hadn't had his own
with him, maybe on his keyring? No, that would be absurb. It was quite possible
maybe he used his cheese grater? It did have different levels of grating
intensity. Yes that must be it! He went back through his drawers and found his
grater. On closer inspection he saw that the finer grater section contained
little white and yellow specks. Bingo.
The mime laid out the ingredients he had so
far: lemons, limes, a zester (grater), indian tonic water (he knew the smell
well from his brief stint as an alcoholic trying to deal with his memory.
Indian tonic and gin would get him through most days. He finally kicked the
habit after his mento kicked his arse. He seemed to have a bad record for arse
kicking. At least, for getting his arse kicked. Actually, that record seemed to
be growing higher every day. He put his mind to the task at hand, the smoothie.
There was something else in there, something slightly exotic. It reminded him
of something. Of... noodles? Why did it remind him of noodles? It hit him...
ginger! He looked in his bupboards and sure enough, found a small nub of ginger
which he placed next to everything else. He brought the memory of the scent to
his head and tried to think ifhtere could be anything else. Nothing was
striking him. He decided to try an experiment. He took the grater and grated a
little lemon, a little lime, a little ginger and poured a little indian tonic
water into a small bowl. He held his head over the little piles of grated fruit
and vegetable and the bowl and breathed in deeply. He knew it would smell
slightly different after being in the blender but he wanted a general idea. He
let the smell arrange itself in his head and realised there was still something
missing. At first he was expecting it to be carrot but his mind told that it
was the wrong smell to add to this bouquet, it was too 'wooden'. This would
likely be a liquid, and it would add a touch of fruitiness to the mix. Hm.
Fruitiness and yet not a fruit? His instincts told him 'yes'. Wait... he opened
the fridge and looked around. Yes. The landlord had told him he had a son that
would turn up every now and then and want a drink. It was never made clear if
he had his own key or if he'd be ringing up ahead of time but he would be handling
inspections. There hadn't been one yet but he had been told to always keep a
carton of Mango and banana fruit drink in the fridge because it was what he
lived off of. So he had dutifully complied, replacing it once it was past the
use by date with a fresh carton. Sure enough, the carton in his fridge had been
opened. Was it the bulk of the smoothie or was something else the base? Yogurt?
He went back to his memory. Yes, definitely some yogurt. He decided to try half
yogurt and half fruit drink for now.
He poured out a measure of fruit drink into
the blender followed by about the same amount of yogurt, then he squeezed in
half a lemon, a tablespoon of lime zest, a small sprinkle of grated ginger and
a snifter of Indian tonic water, then set the whole lot blending. After a
second he had a thought and stopped it blending, then went to his freezer and
got a tray of ice. He added half the tray to the blender and started it
blending again. This time it sounded like he remembered on the day. Once it had
blended for about the same time as he remembered (plus a few extra seconds to
compensate for his being knocked unconscious and the sound needing to wake him
up) he turned off the blender and poured the drink into a tall glass. He tasted
it. His mind came alive, both with the flavour and with a hit of clarity. This
was amazing stuff. He took another deep drink and the drink rewarded him by
seeming to wash his brain through, he felt like he'd been through some sort of
thought car wash. It was amazing. No wonder he liked this stuff. He got a
notepad and wrote down the recipe. Even though, he rarely forgot anything it
was good to leave a bit of memory spare in his head in case it ever needed to
get replaced with anything else. After all, you never knew.
--
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