Cashing Out

[guilty]

A room, unremarkable, devoid of furniture.

A window, shaded by plain blinds, outlines the dark silhouette of... a man? We can not say.

 

Silence. Broken only by the plaintive buzzing of a fly trapped against the daylit glass.

 

Then, in hushed tones, a voice.

The camera switches to Kate Adie.

"I am here," she whispers, "with the commander of the shadowy North Dalby Light Infants - the 'wet ops' regiment - who wishes to be known only as 'Pampers'."

 

"Pampers. We understand that your regiment has been ordered to 'take out'... errr... I shan't name them... a certain accountant and, lately, a music proprietor?"

 

On screen, a subtitle flashes up indicating [ACTORS VOICE]

 

"Yeh, I fink so. Wot's a countterer?"

 

In the outside broadcast caravanette, conveniently parked up on bricks near to the Niarbyl Cafe, the producer frowns and quickly turns to the mixing desk. Through his headphones the high-pitched voice sounds as if it from a five-year-old.

 

Adie continues. "This is obviously a very dangerous and volatile operation. You claim that you are under orders to drive the infidel from our motherland, but there have been some adverse comments in the media regarding your actions."

 

There is movement. The camera focusses on the subjects hands.

 

 

(please continue)