The restaurant is not much to talk about so you're free to picture however you want it to be, 50 diners, fancy French, something. I don’t know, it's not useful. I’m just sitting down to eat and these two dudes, one tall with sandy hair and the other short who looks like a young Paul Giamatti, are just staring at me, and now they are coming over to my table.
“Ah, Melissa Bennis, how fun that the fly has finally flown into the spider-web. That is us,” said the shorter one.
“May we sit down?” The two people in suits are sitting down, not waiting to see if I said they could. Jerks.
"We apologize for that, but it's important,” said sandy-haired one.
“This is of upmost importance, upmost importance. We are shadow workers. We work from behind the scenes, manipulate the world events for a positive outcome for the great nation that is Canada.”
"What," I said, I think like every person in the world would when they would hear something crazy like that. Lot of crazy people today. I mean, Mike's crazy, but I know Mike. Mike's a crazy I can understand. This is a crazy I can't fully understand. Clearly I'm the sane one in this whole situation. Just think.
“Let me explain my part in these particularities. We are a part of what is called the Canadian Security Intelligence Service," said the sandy-haired one.
"Oh, so you're part of CSIS?"
"No! No! No no, no, no, no, you do not use abbreviations around me," said the short one.
"I'm sorry?" I said.
“Abbreviations kill. Government oversight. I believe too strongly in the national Canadians Security Intelligence Services to kill it! I believe that it must be protected! Oh! God, how many shall perish? You're just terrible, terrible people! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!” He got up and threw one of the glasses of water across the room. Nobody in the restaurant reacted. Weird. Very weird. Very oddly weird.
"Hey, hey, hey David?" said the sandy-haired one.
"Listen, I know we've talked about this stuff before, but, you know. Hey David?" said the sandy-haired one.
"Yes?" said David.
"Listen buddy, I know this is important to you, and I know you get worked up about this stuff."
"It's just so important and I don't want our agency to fall in disarray like all the other ones," said David.
"I'm aware of that, but you gotta be like relaxed and cool and breezy. You don't get anywhere by just destroying glasses and ruining everybody's fine dining experience," said the sandy-haired one.
"I know," said David.
"Listen buddy, why don't you go wait in the car, and I'll just talk to her about John St. John?" said the sandy-haired one. "
John St. John? Wait, the crazed billionaire?
“Okay. Okay. Okay. Oh no, I'm sorry everybody!" said David as he took out his wallet and handed a dollar to each and every patron at the restaurant. "I'm sorry. I have anger issues. I'm working on it." And he walked out.
“Sorry about that. Dave's a passionate guy. It's what makes him a great field agent, but he cares a lot about the agency. God knows it doesn't care about him or anybody. I'm sorry. I didn't introduce myself. I'm Sandy," said the sandy-haired one who's name was Sandy. Very convenient that.
“So anyways, listen, we're not all about to get up into the old grill, as the cool kids say. But we've heard you got an audition with one John St John."
“ You mean the billionaire who's built the largest mansion just outside of Vancouver? That thing that exists in reality?” I said.
"Yes, this is a thing that everybody knows. It's an actual true thing, and not a fake thing. John St. John, the noted crazed billionaire, well I should say, alleged crazed billionaire, built the largest house, and it's referred to as Samsinion," said Sandy.
"Cool, so what do you want me to do?" I said.
"Oh, don't worry. Nothing. If you could just report on what you see, that would be a great effort, and maybe wear this? And then leave it in the house," Sandy slid over to me what could only be described as a small ...
“It's a microphone,” said Sandy.
It's obviously a microphone, but I’m going to use it, because yeah why not man? Sweet.
"So if you could just wear that and plant it there at some point in time, that would be very, very appreciated."
And just like that Sandy disappeared, because he walked away, out of the restaurant all sneaky and quiet like. Like this is past tense. So I have an audition with a crazed billionaire. I’m important! I knew it, ha! Oh god, I’m important! I could die! Crazed billionaires do have a horrible tendency to be, crazed. Now Melissa, think this through. You could bail. That's a noble course of action. When World War I broke out and your great-grandfather decided he would rather live in a makeshift submarine for three years instead of going to World War I, he was smart. He did go crazy, in that isolation, but they made a movie based on his adventures that flopped and I can't get hold of. That's what I'll do. Ill find a copy of that movie, and, and I'll totally get out of it.
Why am I here? How did I get here? Oh, God, San Simian, a place that is real and not made up.
Okay. You're doing fine, Melissa. You're doing very bad. Think, think, think. I had nobly decided to bail and not do this, then I got distracted. Then, I did it. Then, I got distracted by doing it. Damn it. I can never focus on anything. This is why your acting career has not taken off to the stratosphere yet. You're just unfocused. Also, you're going to die and you never did get to tell your sister how much you love her even though sometimes you do fight.