Chapter 34
Modern art should speak to the masses
"My… my… that one was a bit messy." Nom said.
"It almost looks as if he literally had more brains in his head than Sunny Torkret. Interesting. Fortunately, I still have suit coats to choose from. I don't think the President will mind my borrowing his coat." Nom said.
Nom pulled the suit coat from the President and covered the grisly scene.
"For the love of god man! Hold your fire!" The voice in his ear piece rang out in panic.
"Why ever would I do such a thing?" Nom asked.
"What did either of them ever do to you?" Came the pleading response.
"A fair question, but first, the Senator has purchased himself more time, let me arbitrarily set it." Nom, once again pulled out his phone and open the timer app.
"Well, since five minutes was not enough and since I did pre-charge him one moron's life, I will give the Senator eight minutes this time." Nom set the rollers on the app to the desired setting and pressed the start button.
"Let's try it again, Senator."
Nom returned the phone to his pocket and looked into the camera.
"America, I am sorry that my little speech has become such a disjointed mess. Unfortunately, I need to work in real time with the morons you elected. Now. The voice from the control room asked in a rather roundabout way why I shot Sunny Torkret and Tom Glupyy. They claimed that neither had ever done anything to me."
Nom nodded his head and pensively bit his lower lip.
"I can see why a person, not prone to contemplating the net consequences of their actions, would make such an assertion."
Nom pointed to the bottom left of the camera's visual frame with his gun.
"Now, Der'Mo News normally has a little spinning icon here. It's a four-sided cube. On two sides it says: 'Der'Mo News,' on the other two, 'Just and Unbiased.' Below it is the current time in the four main American time zones, changing zones each time the die spins."
"Just and Unbiased,' that's an interesting statement. Essentially, Der'Mo exists, in the eyes of its fans, to offer a counter voice to what they see as an unjust and biased liberal media. Wish I could say that they are one hundred percent wrong, but, if I am being honest, I can't. From the Huffington Post to the Evening Line Up on Raptor News there is a clear editorial leaning towards American liberal philosophy."
Nom paused a moment, he took his glass of water from the table and freshened his throat.
"The key difference is that the so called liberal media separate their editorial and news content. Der'Mo News DOESN'T. The others take the time to clearly label content as editorial. Literally the word 'editorial' is included in the byline."
"Der'Mo does not do this. They flow freely back and forth between editorial content and news content, all without advising their viewers of the switch. The result is that mere opinion is given the false legitimacy of fact."
"Sunny Torkret and Tom Glopyy were willing and knowing accomplices to this farce. Their editorial content has fed and focused some the vilest hate content, publicly promulgated since radio stations in Rwanda stoked the Hutu/Tutsi genocide. Their editorial style is without a doubt an homage to the old cliché. Joseph Gobbles would fit in here perfectly, with the sole exception of Der'Mo News being in love with the state of Israel."
"So what did Sunny Torkret and Tom Glopyy ever do to me? Simple, they helped the Der'Mo News propaganda machine. They helped build the National Socialist coalition that currently runs the US government."
Nom pulled out his phone again.
"The Senator has five minutes and eight seconds. Control Room, do you have him yet?" Nom asked.
"In a moment." Came the response. "We are setting up his mic, sir. Please stay calm."
"Have I shown some example of undue anxiety? Perhaps I've shown other inappropriate emotion?" Nom asked in a deadpanned calm.
"Just please don't hurt anyone else sir." The controller pled.
"I will take your request under advisement. In the meantime, I have a bit of work to do, so please pardon my momentary absence." Nom said.
Nom walked off camera to the chair he had been using that morning. Under the seat, just as he had left it, was the Halliburton case Tollen had given him. The ZLOY building, like most downtown buildings was secured. To get in, everyone had to go through a security checkpoint, even employees. They had not progressed to the nudity microwave scanners employed by the TSA, but a basic metal detector, plus an x-ray machine for bags and parcels was quite effective.
When he had arrived that morning, Nom had been forced to submit to a hand wand. The door frame magnetometer went off thanks to his belt buckle and keys. Surprisingly, even the foil wrapper his glasses cloths came in set off the hand wand.
What did not set off any alarms, was a the new Der'Mo, arriving to work with one of the most expensive and revered briefcases in the business world. The Halliburton case, no longer made by the oil company, was world renowned for providing the best protection possible for its cargo. Made of dye cast aluminum, it could survive most impacts. It was water proof and could survive a hundred foot fall onto cement and still not open without the code.
It was the aluminum body that had sold Nom on the idea. It would make the insides of the case invisible to any x-ray machine. Seeing an everyday case, and that he was an authorized employee, in all likelihood, security would let him by without asking to see the inside. That is exactly what they did.
Nom pulled the case out from under his chair and took it to a utility table behind the center camera. He opened it.
Inside were three lengths of steel rope, a pulley, five cement anchors with tightening eye bolts, a ram set, various clamps and tools, two water bags, and a custom made chopping blade.
The blade had been the most difficult piece to arrange. In the end, Nom had started with a replica battle ax. He used a diamond blade grinding wheel to cut free a three foot long, five inch wide blade. Using a mold and clear acrylic, Nom made a mount and set the blade in it to dry. This way, the knife edge was held at the proper angle and would be firmly attached to his mounts.
Nom set to work. The portable frame had proven to be surprisingly easy once he had the epiphany. The ceiling of the studio was exposed I-beams with a number of catwalks for lights. Taking three steel ropes and the pulley, Nom climbed the catwalk ladder. He positioned himself above the kitchen set. Finding a solid steel pipe used to suspend lights, Nom slowly stepped on it to test its strength. Seeing that it easily held him, he clambered back onto the cat walk.
Two of the steel ropes were draped with their middles over the pipe exactly two feet apart. A quick check with his measuring tape to confirm it, and he clamped them on either side. This ensured that they stayed exactly where he wanted them. He measured the middle between his ropes, and clamped his pulley between the two ropes. The third rope was threaded into the pulley, and left to dangle to the floor.
Climbing down, Nom found that he had been fortunate. He had estimated that the ceiling would not be more than thirty feet high and had bought sixty-five foot steel ropes. He had far too much slack and had to trim them with a small bold cutter.
Taking his ram set, Nom gathered the ropes in front of the kitchen counter. Using the measuring tape, he made sure that they were as wide at the bottom as they were at the top. He quickly checked with a level to ensure they were square, marked their placements with a magic marker, and planted their ends into eye bolts. He placed the cement anchors on the marks he made on the floor.
A bit of quick work with the ram set placed the anchors into the floor. Now he screwed the eye hooks into the anchors threaded. With a screw driver acting as a makeshift handle, he tightened the four ends of the two side ropes till they were rigid. He now had a rigid steel frame running from the floor of the studio to the rafters from an easy portable set.
Nom turned to the camera.