VenusFlyTrap90 (Paradise Regained): Hi. Long-time no hear.

NakedFlame: Hiya Venus. Yeah. Been kinda busy.

VFT90: Busy is good. Hope things have been productive.

NF: Yeah. Not bad. You could put it that way.

VFT90: All we can hope is that our talents are rewarded.

NF: A pay rise would be nice recognition.

VFT90: Well, I feel more like a waitress relying on tips. At least I don’t have to put up with gropers any more.

NF: Hah! Nah, I can’t imagine you’d put up with any shit.

VFT90: Nice to know you remember the house rules.

NF: Being banned is a bummer.

VFT90: Well, you’re no mere guest. Welcome back.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thanks hon.

NF: My pleasure. You been here long today? The room is not as crowded as usual.

VFT90: Not long. It’s still early. What time is it your end?

NF: Just after 9 a.m. Monday. A free day off work, just chilling.

VFT90: I forget where you are. It’s afternoon here on Sunday.

NF: Sydney.

VFT90: Cool. A lovely city.

NF: It’s warming up here at the moment, even for spring. You’re west coast, right?

VFT90: Good memory. Oregon.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thanks hon. What are you up for today?

NF: Have you still got that Princess Leia slave outfit?

VFT90: WOW. The neurons are firing early down under.

NF: Don’t think I could forget that in a hurry.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thanks hon. I’ll see what I can do. Give me 10 mins. BRB…

*

Audrey liked to keep things separate.

She enjoyed the autonomy of working from home, despite this line of work not being what she was qualified to do; ‘beyond gender’ studies, as she liked to call it.

Her room, her performance space was literally a spare room in the house she was renting in Salem.Technically a spare bedroom, she had fitted it out to create an ideal space to conjure her craft.The arrangement of furniture remained basically the same, but the overall effect was altered on a weekly basis with the adornments to achieve the thematic vision.

The diploma of interior design had kept her in good stead. Admittedly it had a been a whim that started in her supposed ‘gap’ year, yet the return had been worth it. Or that’s what she told herself. Her real passion was photo journalism. The degree had earned her the right to put herself out there and she had freelanced on and off while looking for the dream job.

Some things never seem to materialise when you want them the most.

She had learnt not to pigeonhole herself and leave open her options to make the most of the opportunities as they came along. And this gig was just another such chance to try something different. Besides, it definitely supplemented her earning capacity and enabled her to buy the SFX and outfits for her room, as well as the new camera equipment to remain an independent talent.

Some of the other girls were prepared to virtually invite members into their home, but Audrey drew the line at this. She didn’t want strangers with a predilection for online peccadillos peering in to follow her every move in either kitchen, bathroom or real bedroom.

Her world was self-contained.

Her current single status meant she could relax and revel in the lack of personal scrutiny from inside the confines of her real life. Some guys couldn’t cope knowing what their girlfriend was doing under the same roof. Blaine had not been the controlling type and could quite easily have been convinced of the boon to their financial situation. He hadn’t wanted to be a burden and kept a safe distance. So much so that when the opportunity came up for him to take off overseas for a posting as writer in residence with a creative arts college, he jumped at the chance.

“Spain isn’t the end of the world. You can always come and visit.”

“He did his little danceThere up in the north of SpainDanced all the way to FranceJust to try and bring her rain…”

“It’s always the Pixies with you…”

“Que Sera, Sera…”

*

LOADING WEBCAM -

VenusFlyTrap90 is back online.

RobBot: Don’t forget to ‘Rate and Admire’ on the Model’s profile.

(A meme appears in the comments section of the model’s page, beneath the considerate automated reminder.

It consists of a handsome young man reminiscent of Rob Lowe slowly removing his Ray Bans as if to suggest that he has just seen something that has taken his breath away.

Accompanying it is the caption: ‘A vision splendid’.

Beneath this in response appears an emoji of a pair of pouting saliva wet lips promising the kiss of a second life.

Accompanying it is a cursive Thank you!)

VFT90: Full marks for patience Flame. I didn’t mean to keep you.

NakeFlame: You could keep me any time.

VFT90: Hah! You haven’t lost your cheeky sense of humour. Don’t tell me, your wish is…

NF: Your command!

RobBot: There are currently 10 members and 18 Guests in the room.

Guest12: Stand up and show your arse.

VFT90: Now, now. Be polite or become a member. Remember, tips equal my attention and I’ll be more forthcoming to requests.

Guest12: You want it so much you don’t even know it. Come on, show it and I’ll sign up.

(VFT90 receives a Private Message from NF: I’d ban the jerk if he was a member who was being so rude. Maybe mute the cheapskate guests so the rest of us can reward you and show our appreciation.

In the blink of an eye or click of a mouse a caption appears in the comments box to the effect that ‘Guests have been muted.’

NF shows his approval by posting a meme of Orson Welles enthusiastically applauding as an audience member outtake from one of his films.

A static heading appears below featuring five stars and the claim that the model has been ‘Rated and Admired.’)

VFT90: Thanks KumquatJam86.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Don’t be shy guys to address the room topics for the day. All are welcome token gestures.

(A bold outline of requests appears beneath in the comments section as duplicated from the ribbon display next to the model’s name, portrait and preview portal.

Room Topics:

20 tokens if you like me; 40 if you love me;60 for a flash; 80 to pose; 100 to speak dialogue; 120 to dance; 150 for orders to obey;200 for striptease; Dildo play in True Private, and Group Show welcome;SKYPE available - 500 tokens for 20 mins;Highest tipper - Snapchat pic stream / profile videos download to choose from;Dream Tip = 1,500Today’s Goal = 2,500.)

RobBot: Don’t forget to check out the model’s profile for preferences and extras options.

(An emoticon of a beaming face holding two thumbs aloft appears in the comments section.)

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Wow! OK Flame. You got it. Which part of the original trilogy do you want?NF: You know how I feel about the prequels…

VFT90: Well, I am in the slave outfit just for you. We could start there if you like.Something from Jedi and then we could work back through to A New Hope?

NF: I’ve got a good feeling about this. I dibs to be Han.

Shaft76: You old scoundrel, you…

(Audrey turned off the previous backing track selection that was ‘Star Wars and Other Galactic Funk’ and chose a track called ‘Sublime Starscape’ from her playlist and set it for repeat on a non-intrusive background setting.)

VFT90: Alright all you guys, all you pirates, bounty hunters, Jedis and Wookies. Let’s test the hyperdrive.

*

It had been a toss-up between photography and psychology but her eye for the moment and its capture won out. Besides, Audrey still felt as though a photograph said about as much if not more about a person’s state of mind, or the tension of an instant in time, than pause for thought and any words by association. She thought of her camera almost as a divining rod. Except, water was not her desire. It was something more precious than even petty pretty gemstones.

She remembered how some primitive aboriginal tribes had upon first contact thought that the camera and the photographs they produced were the result of witchcraft or black magic. They were afraid that a photo could steal their soul and that it would be held in permanent limbo on the paper as evidence of an alternative afterlife.

Almost like collateral.

But what of the damage?

In reality a photograph was a permanent reminder of a person in a given time and space. Their face and attitude. Or the prevailing emotion of the race to appear in control. Evidence of the beauty and terror of the world conspiring to warp perceptions of what was true.

History in the aftermath of what seemed a reflex action at the time.

Point and click.

The action was more than likely premeditated if the consequence was intentional suffering and yet how could one image prove or disprove intent? A person whose mission was to document human experience had to ask themselves what they hoped to prove by way of a static commentary on their own nature.

Any so called random event was fraught for meaning. Not so much why as how…

The photographer had to be ready to bend and blend with the breeze of chance.

And dissolve into the background.

This was the irony of the situation, to the fore, full frontal…

*

VenusFlyTrap90: Thanks Flame. MWAH!

NakedFlame: I came just as your Jabba took his last breath.

VFT90: Kinky! Almost like autoerotic asphyxiation, yeah?

NF: Hah! Well, I’m no Michael Hutchence, but I prefer not to hang around behind closed doors – unless I’m out on a limb and wanna come back for more…

DickPick75: hahahahahahahaha! J

VFT90: Oh, yeah. I get it. I think… How about some INXS?

Dickpick75: Alright! Suicide Blonde?

VFT90: Sure thing DP.

NF: That bloated one sure had it coming to him. Well done Princess.

VFT90: I am but a servant to the rebellion.

DickPick75: This is doing my head in!

NF: And a leader of men to boot!

VFT90: I aim to please.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thank you!

NF: Gotta admit I didn’t recognise the script.

VFT90: Apologies if it was one sided.

NF: It was kinda a monologue, but it worked for me.

VFT90: I followed a certain Corellian’s example and made it up as I went along.

NF: Cool. Where did you get the Jabba stunt double?

VFT90: Let’s just say I was inspired by Myth Busters. I like to get creative.

Shaft76: Especially in the bedroom!

VFT90: Naturally…

Shaft76: Firing on all cylinders, Princess!

(A meme appears in the comments section of the laser quad cannons firing bolts of energy from the Millennium Falcon.)

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thanks DP. It all goes towards my goal. Only 2,000 to go b4 a public show.

NF: You’ve really outdone yourself with the great set. The backdrop is spot on. Almost looks like green screen.

VFT90: I don’t give away production secrets.

NF: Just don’t tell me you’re a CGI creation.

Shaft76: You look like the real deal to me Venus.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thank you Shaft. Much obliged.

(At the behest of the generous tip, Audrey repositions herself in front of her webcam and begins to tease her audience. A la intergalactic burlesque.

Staring down the camera lens, she pouts and kisses the air in gratitude for her followers. She then takes her plaited hair and begins to unwind the strands until her long locks are free and fall down back over her shoulder blades.

Then, slowly, she inches the bra strap down off her left shoulder until it rests on her bicep. She follows this with the same move to the right.

The well fitted seemingly metallic bra still resides almost perfectly in place, supported by her fulsome DD breasts. But there is enough slippage to hint at the cornucopia of what lies beneath.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

As only a woman can, she manages to unclasp the bra with one hand behind her back.Still the armour-like material holds its own, dropping in front just enough to tantalise with a glimpse of the outer most edges of her spiralling aureole.

The INXS album X was still on the playlist and progressing through the songs in random shuffle order.The next song cued was ‘‘Disappear’’.

Audrey brings her long locks from over her shoulders to part in equal good measure over her chest, concealing her twin peaks in a double play of controlled enraptured entrapment.

With her auburn hair in place over her ample bosom, she slowly and deliberately lets the straps down over each bicep until the apparatus gives way and she removes it, tossing it out of the cam’s view.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

She winks into the cam and softly pats down her hair upon the partially concealed mammaries of memories past.

She raises her eyebrows suggestively and smiles.

With each hand she delicately brushes aside the hair from over her breasts and tosses it back over her shoulders to reveal all.)

*

Halloween was approaching and Audrey knew she would have to change the vibe in the room to compete with those others who would be up for a little kinky celebration for the day of the dead.

A costume was only one piece of the jigsaw to catch the attention of passing trade. The music was a cinch, but the room’s look would take some doing.

Cobwebs, chains, a black cat, a raven, gravestone, skeleton, skull, jack-o’-lanterns, candles; these were givens but could not be taken for granted.

Living in Salem provided its own inspiration for a take on witchcraft even if the compass coordinates meant the west coast had won out over the east in this version of events. Salem’s lot was a perfect prop of a namesake to instil a sense of foreboding and set the scene.

She thought that she could throw in fortune telling to prompt tips based on tarot card selection as the means for some divination distraction.Then there was the idea for a séance where members could ask to speak with the nominated celebrity dead who could then in turn make suggestions for raunchy strip routines.

While not being able to literally hold hands with numerous voyeurs meant that this would have to be conducted by means of the suggestive medium that is augmented reality.Instead of knocking twice for yes, a spirit could be asked to increase the setting on a dildo to spice up the show. She wasn’t entirely sure how such artifice would work, but like any good conjurer she would have to encourage the suspension of disbelief.

Most of the audience would be willing to play along and join in the charade.As head witch she would cast her spells and spook the pants of them.

And in the process earn enough in tips to go towards extra bits and pieces for her darkroom. That was perfect. That’s what she would call her room for this haunting experiment in carnal plunder. VenusFlyTrap’s Darkroom of Raunchy Relief…

*

The playlist for this extended session of Audrey’s room consists of the following: Little shop of Horrors, Rocky Horror Picture Show, The Lost Boys soundtracks, Horror Movie, Psycho, Nightmare on Elm Street, The Omen, Saw, Scream, Friday the 13th, The Exorcist, Jaws, The Ring, Rosemary’s Baby, The Amityville Horror theme, Evil Dead, The Twilight Zone theme, Halloween…

NakedFlame: Happy Halloween my sexy sorceress.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VenusFlyTrap90: Why, thankyou my wily, wilful warlockJ

NF: What did you have planned for the night?

VFT90: Are you getting ahead of yourself again?

NF: Well, I am 19 hours after the fact. It’s 11:30 a.m. on the first day of November here.

VFT90: A pinch and a punch on the first day of the month!

NF: OUCH! That hurt How do you even know that expression? I didn’t think you guys went in for such lame sayings.

VFT90: Are you being ironic?

NF: Aha! Totally.

VFT90: It’s funny what you can pick up online. Don’t get me started about your Aussie slang…

NF: Alright, alright. Just don’t say I’m a few sandwiches short of a picnic.

VFT90: Whatever turns you on Naked. Hey, you’ll have to stay indoors or you’ll explode as soon as you step out into the sun.

NF: Maybe your President should have arranged for the solar eclipse to happen on Halloween to make it spookier. Don’t worry, I have the curtains closed.

VFT90: Careful! Remember politics can ruin a friendship. Maybe you should be in your cellar.

NF: And how do you know I’m not?

VFT90: Good point. Don’t forget that True Private is always an option.

NF: Always…

(A gif appears in the public forum section next to the live video feed to interrupt the Private Messaging between the two. It consists of an explicit portrayal of rough anal sex.)

VFT90: Oh my, what a big wand you have GlandAllOverYou42. Anal play is not on the topic list yet. Tips can change that…

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thank you kindly GlandAllOverYou. True Private time. Be right back soon guys…

(Live video fee is interrupted and a message to the effect that the model is offline for True Private appears in its place.

The display showing those members who are logged on indicates that some of them cannot wait for Audrey to return and that they have tuned out of her room to look elsewhere. The current number of those still committed to the cause shows 21.

Not so bad considering how comparatively early it still is in the day for west coast USA.)

RobBot: There are currently 21 members and 32 Guests in the room. (Such an unnecessary automated indication, but it gave the impression of being in demand and commanding attention.)

(Several minutes later and the live video feed resumes with Audrey seen bending provocatively over a cauldron pretending to stir its contents given apparent life thanks to smouldering dry ice.)

NakedFlame: What’s cooking good looking?

VenusFlyTrap90 (in a sultry and seductive witch’s voice): Double, double toil and trouble, fire burn and caldron bubble.Fillet of a fenny snake,in the caldron boil and bake;eye of newt and toe of frog,wool of bat and tongue of dog,adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,lizard's leg and howlet's wing,for a charm of powerful trouble,like a hell-broth boil and bubble.Double, double toil and trouble;fire burn and caldron bubble.Cool it with a baboon's blood,then the charm is firm and good.

NF: Hmmm, sounds delicious. Really…

VFT90: Maybe a handful of gonads for added piquancy…

NF: I think I’ll passL

VFT90: A wise choice, my wicked warlock.

NF: I must compliment you on your outfit. It’s a winner.

VFT90: I have a few costume changes to get through. I just figured the bewitching look was a good fit. Think of me not as your classic B-grade hag, but rather a lustful demoness.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thank you Naked. May you possess an erection for all eternity.

NF: Sounds excruciating. At this rate I’ll never be able to leave the house.

(A gif appears in the public forum section next to the live video feed.It consists of a flaccid penis becoming engorged to dominate its rectangular viewfinder as fully, throbbingly erect.)

VFT90: Back at it I see GlandAllOverYou.

NF: Hey, that’s mine! J

RobBot: There are currently 42 members and 32 Guests in the room.Guests have been temporarily muted by the model. Sign up as a member for full privileges, including access to the forum and Private Messaging.Don’t forget to check out the model’s profile for preferences and extras options.Rate and Admire to redeem bonus points.

GAOY42: You wish.

NF: Don’t you dare me.

VFT90: Now, now gentlemen. Let’s not have a tug of war over whose is the biggest. I do not want to hear school boys squabbling over their membership.Please no real dick pics. I’ll permit the sexy gifs, but I will only look at your manhood during a cam-to-cam session or SKYPE. Understood?

NF: Understood. Please don’t get upset. I’ll follow your wishes.

GAOY42: Teacher’s pet.

VFT90: At least he knows how to get into my good books.

GAOY42: I’d prefer to get into your panties.

VFT90: OK, OK. The tone of the day may be grim and morbid, but let’s keep a sense of humor.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thanks Gland. Keep it up…

GAOY42: My pleasure witchiepoo

VFT90: Any takers for a tarot reading? If we have a Group Show we can attempt a séance if it appeals.

GAOY42: How about a Ouija board?

VFT90: Damn! How could I have forgotten that?

(A gif appears in the public forum section depicting a grown man throwing a tantrum like a child, lying prostrate and repeatedly banging his fists and feet on the ground and silently bawling.)

VFT90: Yes, I agree, it was an oversight. Fear not. We have a long night ahead of us. I can put a call out to someone in the know and you just never know your luck.

NF: I’ll vote for that.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thanks Naked. Glad we have an agreement.

NF: Is that what I think it is on the mantelpiece in the background, next to the skull candle?

VFT90: Let’s see, what have you spied with your beady eye?

(Audrey leaves her cauldron and moves into the background to see what she can find.)

VFT90: Aha! Yes, you have spotted my surprise for the occasion. What do you think it is Naked?

NF: I must admit that I’ve seen other girls using them. You were out of the picture for a while after all…

VFT90: I don’t blame you Naked. I’m not the only one here after all. I’d be worried if you didn’t stray.

(Audrey has returned to the foreground with a box containing the surprise. She sits next to the cauldron in what looks like a souped-up office chair a racing car driver would be at home in. It even seems to have its own ultra-heavy-duty suspension-cum-shock absorbers - for extra robust sessions of exhibitionism.

She removes her coven approved conical crown to fully reveal her naturally long tresses which had been dyed for the occasion – so much else had been a distraction that no one had appeared to notice her previously auburn locks now had streaks of black and mauve running through them.)

NF: Love the new hair

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thank you!

VFT90: Okey-dokey. So what do you call it then?

NF: I’ve heard it called a couple of different names but the one I remember is LoveSense.

VFT90: Correct. Same thing really, but this one’s called a TickleMeSilly.

(Audrey carefully opens the box and removes from plastic and cellophane what looks like a pink anemone with an antenna trailing from one tapered end.She holds it up before the cam.)

NF: You’ll have to update the room’s topics list for full impact.

VFT90: I think I need a drop of my witch’s brew before I start to let you all control the pleasure vibe in here. I have experimented b4 with it and it packs a punch.

NF: The LoveSense or the brew?

VFT90: Cheeky. The LoveSense, silly. One minute guys, brb…

(Audrey places the mysterious object on the chair, moves out of frame and reappears after a couple of minutes armed with a chalice.

She raises the chalice to her black lips and takes a swig.)

VFT90: Cheers guys.

(She places the chalice upon a side table made from a glass topped pane set on the hunched, furled wings of a squat, dull eyed raven.)

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thanks guys. Oh, yeah. I forgot something, didn’t I? Take 2…

(Audrey takes the TickleMeSilly device and moves out of frame once again to reappear a couple of minutes later without the pleasure aid in hand and resumes her seat.)

VFT90: OK guys. This evil angel is all set. Feel free to follow the topic list and…

(Sound of electronic chiming)

(Audrey begins to visibly twitch and squirm as the signal from the tip is received and relayed by the TickleMeSilly. She flushes noticeably.)

VFT90: Thank you!

NF: Aha! So you are ticklish

VFT90: So it seems. Remember, the higher the token tip the longer the sensation for me.

GAOY42: Good Vibrations by the Beach Boys would be perfect if it wasn’t such a sunny tune.

VFT90: Any requests?

GAOY42: How’s about something by The Cramps?

(A giff appears in the public forum column depicting the Joker as portrayed by Heath Ledger laughing maniacally.)

NF: I’ll pay that.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

(Audrey again performs her little skittish paroxysm.)

VFT90: Thank you!

NF: What about Hotter than Hell or God of Thunder, by KISS?

GAOY42: Helter Skelter?

VFT90: Whoa! Guys. One at a time, please. I am at a little disadvantage with this little alien inside me.

(Another giff appears, this time of KISS rocker Gene Simmons lasciviously demonstrating his tongue lashing abilities, complete with blood-letting appreciation of his next conquest and possible edible delicacy.)

VFT90: One reminder guys. Don’t forget to check your own profiles so you can reveal or hide who’s tipping and what you got. I don’t always see who’s making contributions. ‘Anonymous’ is kinda sexy, but it helps me to know what’s what and keep you in the picture.

(At this point Audrey receives a private message request for a SKYPE session from someone whose call sign is CodsWallop77.)

CodsWallop77: Greetings VenusFlyTrap90. Wonderful to behold you here this wretched Halloween. I must compliment you on your naughty room tonight. I would love to invite you to join me on SKYPE. I realize it would be depriving your other admirers for a relatively brief span, but I insist on 60 minutes in order to reach your dream tip. Tempted?

(Audrey pauses briefly on cam as she reads the message and replies. She knows this offer is too good to refuse and her loyal followers will remain true even if they have to chase their fantasy elsewhere in her absence. They will return. She is the VenusFlyTrap after all, and her lure always proves irresistible. And the night is still young…)

VFT90: Greetings CW77. Not sure if I have had the pleasure. How can I help you this deliciously devilish evening?

CW77: Regrettably I have not had the pleasure, but we can rectify this tonight. As I said, I would love to invite you to join me on SKYPE. One hour to reach your dream tip.

VFT90: What would you like to do during the time? I don’t usually do such a long SKYPE session.

CW77: I can appreciate that, but I’m sure not everyone wants to meet your dream tip for a SKYPE session. Let’s just say we can treat it like a first date, however ‘blind’ the circumstances of our introduction. I’m home alone and could use a little of your wicked company. You may get the impression that I’m somewhat of a conversationalist and you’d be correct. I exist equally on a cerebral and physical level and one tends to feed the other through sharing insights with new and interesting individuals. Rest assured, I am delighted to tip for extra flashes of brilliance on your part…

(Sound of electronic chiming)

(Audrey appears distracted and a little flustered.)

VFT90: Sorry guys. Thanks for your patience. Just having a little trouble cuing up new song cycle. BRB…

(The main model’s video feed is replaced with an announcement in the same font used by the site, in keeping with the tone.)

The model is currently offline. Her camera is either turned off or she may be experiencing technical issues. Please standby…

(Audrey resumes her private messaging exchange with her mysterious ‘suitor’.)

VFT90: OK. I am intrigued. The invitation sure is tempting. I get what you mean about the cerebral versus the physical. So, you like to talk, huh! Well, consider me all ears. Just give me a couple of minutes to compose myself and I’ll be ready to go. Oh, and please feel free to make the initial tip before I come back live with you to secure the link. You can SKYPE me or I can SKYPE you. Which would you prefer?

CW77: You are most gracious. Consider it done. I can SKYPE you. What is your handle?

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Wow! Thanks so much You can SKYPE me at: Analogue_2True.

*

(Audrey repositions herself on her chair of choice after a brief interval to visit the bathroom, checks her mobile and replenishes her chalice. Having signed on to her account before leaving the room, she waits until the call comes through and answers it as promised.

Her caller sees the same video feed as displayed in the public forum and adjusts the dimensions of the image accordingly to fill the wall mounted plasma screen opposite. He is wearing a Bluetooth headset with microphone and adjusts this to appear less interposing.

What Audrey sees catches her breath. She had merely anticipated a study or living space free of any incriminating artefacts or revealing personal items like family photos.

Instead she sees the live stream frame filled with a lavish tableau of style and taste.

The background strains of Faure’s Requiem provide an undertone.

Her date is seated alone at a long well-appointed dining table. Down lights create a subdued mood, with the strategically placed candles providing allusive shadows to good effect. His ageless face is not so much illuminated in any glary or garish way, but suggestive of a pleased and pleasing countenance.

At first the camera views this setting from more of a long shot, which, at the push of a remote control placed at his left hand, he can insinuate into a more befitting intimate middle range inclusive of his place at the end of the table. Nothing is superfluous to the central image.

She has enough time during the first glimpse of the interior and the slow zoom to glean enough to know her host can certainly afford his generous offer and this is no whim sponsored by a rush of chemical substances.

In front of him his place setting consists of the traditionally coordinated cutlery for a course biased menu, entrée utensils from the outside progressing through the main to dessert on the inside either side of an empty space.

At 11 o’clock is a bread plate with butter knife and small oval butter dish. Diagonally beneath it rests flat a starched white linen napkin and the remote control.

Beginning at 1 o’clock and then descending down diagonally through 2 o’clock to 3 are a water glass, white wine and red wine glasses. The water glass is full and untouched.

In front of the place setting is a water carafe and a red wine decanter. To the right of his seated position stands a champagne bucket on a tripod. In it is an upturned champagne bottle and a full bottle of white wine. Strangely, there is no sign of a champagne flute.

To the left of his seated position on a side table stands a bain-marie worthy of a hotel buffet. Its covers are in place. Serving utensils are laid out like surgical instruments with extra napkins. Each of the table d’hôtel plates lie in wait.

Not much more of the room can be discerned, except lining the background wall are a series of crammed floor to ceiling bookshelves housing an array of subject matter ranging from what appear to be novels, text books, journals, cook books, art and photography collections and catalogues.

Placed strategically to one side are a modern Eames lounge chair and ottoman with a tall industrial-cum-architectural drafting lamp for reading.There is also a vintage ashtray stand.

As much as there is a sense of cultivation, there is also a certain Spartan quality. A minimalistic insistence on basic human needs and forms.)

CW77: So nice f you to join me. I hope you don’t mind that you are my only guest at a meal I have designed especially for such an occasion. I don’t often get to dine in company, but I thought tonight I could make the exception. I do hope you haven’t eaten…

(Audrey readjusts the volume on her inbuilt speakers and mic.)

VFT90: I feel honoured that you should have chosen me. What’s the occasion?

CW77: Well, you were already celebrating it – the Day of the Dead.

VFT90: Are you Mexican?

CW77: Only in sympathy. Simpatico?

VFT90: I always get confused between sympathy and empathy.

CW77: I think we understand each other well enough.

VFT90: Have you done anything like this before?

CW77: We all have our secrets. Is the setting haunting enough for you?

VFT90: I love the shadows. Very subdued. In an elegant way like a classic horror movie where the tormented genius lives alone in his mansion.

(Audrey’s host slowly breaks into a broad grin of approval.)

CW77: You do tickle my funny bone. It is a bit like that I suppose.

VFT90: You do look pretty classy in that dinner suit. Makes me feel like I got my wires crossed and have turned up for a costume party when it’s really a formal dinner.

CW77: Please don’t tell me you feel cheap.

(Audrey snickers to herself and twitches her nose a la Samantha from the 1960s series Bewitched.)

VFT90: Very funny. You make me laugh. Not at the price of my dream tip. Thanks again for that.

CW77: I propose a toast. Do you have any more of your witch’s brew on hand?

VFT90: At the ready… I just realised. What do we call each other?

CW77: Ah, yes. This is true. Let’s not complicate matters. You may call me a load of old nonsense if you like…

VFT90: A real name might be easier.

CW77: Make it Alex. And you?

VFT90: Let’s make it Sam.

CW77: Alex and Sam. Sounds just fine. I can live with that.

(Here Alex takes the bottle of white wine from the bucket and pours himself an ample half glass. He raises the glass aloft.)

CW77: To Sam and her bewitching qualities.

(He waits for her to reply in kind.)

VFT90: To Alex, a most unique host.

(They both raise their glasses in salutation and drink deeply.)

VFT90: So, where are you from Alex?

(Alex touches the cutlery on his right and repositions a knife ever so slightly.He helps himself to some more wine.)

CW77: It all depends where I am needed at the time. I have led a fairly impermanent existence. Can you tell by my accent?

VFT90: What accent? I can’t hear one. Sounds pretty neutral to me.

CW77: Very astute. Let’s call it a Mid-Atlantic voice, but I’m neither in the US nor the UK at the moment. I’m continental at present. But that could change at very short notice. Please, help yourself to some more of your brew…

(Sound of electronic chiming)

(Alex tips using the offline tipping option.

Sam pulls a pleasantly contorted face and twitches her nose as an unconscious afterthought.)

VFT90: Thanks Alex. Don’t mind if I do. Just excuse me while I fetch something else to suit the vibe you’ve created.

CW77: Of course.

(Sam leaves the cam’s frame and goes to her kitchen to get a bottle of wine and a glass. She returns in no time and settles in again.)

VFT90: I could change into something a little more elegant if you like. Won’t take me long.

CW77: No, it’s fine. Just leave the hat off and maybe remove the cape.

(Sam obliges.)

CW77: What are you drinking?

VFT90: It’s a Napa Valley Pinot.

CW77: Nice choice. Light and fruity, just like you.

VFT90: It was a gift. What about you?

(Alex removes the bottle of white from the bucket, wipes off the iced water with a napkin and holds it up to the cam.)

CW77: It’s a Marsanne-Roussanne. Not your average white variety. Think honeysuckle.

VFT90: Sounds delicious.

CW77: I assure you it is. Cheers!

(Sound of electronic chiming)

(Sam waits for the pulses to abate and acknowledges the tip with a quaff from her glass.)

VFT90: So, what’s on the menu?

CW77: Let me whet your appetite and please don’t think me cruel.

VFT90: I’ll be ready for some takeout after this session.

CW77: Consider it a treat from me. Our first course is a liver pate quiche, with a sautéed leek and truffle salad. I recommend the Marsanne-Roussanne.

VFT90: Wow! Did you make it?

(Alex gives a mock though convincing look of aggrieved shock.)

CW77: You doubt my culinary skills? Shame on you…

(Sam quickly covers her mouth with the palm of her hand to convey self-reproach.)

VFT90: I’m sorry. No offence intended. I just couldn’t imagine cooking something like that myself.

(Alex smiles and sips from his refilled glass.)

CW77: None taken. You should be daring in the kitchen. Take risks, experiment a little and you could be happily surprised.

VFT90: Sounds like a life lesson.

CW77: You could take it as such.

(Alex raises his glass.)

CW77: To your perspicacity, Sam.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

(Sam shivers and shimmies in reaction.)

VFT90: Thanks Alex. You spoil me. I’m not exactly sure what you mean but I won’t argue the point.

CW77: You’d be wise not to. I would never say something to mislead you. Unlike a jury…

(Alex finds this amusing and smirks to himself at the connotations.)

CW77: I think it’s time to serve, don’t you?

VFT90: Please, don’t let me spoil your meal.

CW77: As if you could, my enchanted one.

(At this Sam pulls a cross-eyed face of outmoded modesty.

Alex proceeds to stand at his place and moves across to the bain-marie on the side table where he serves himself a portion of the entrée. He resumes his seat and refills his glass.

He uses the remote control to zoom in on the plate which he holds up at a slight angle to the camera.)

CW77: So, what do you think?

(Sam squints to scrutinize the first course.)

VFT90: It’s not what I imagined.

CW77: It never is. Another life lesson for you.

(Somehow the quiche and salad stay in place and give no hint at the gravitas of their origins, or their likelihood to want to slide off the plate.)

VFT90: It’s a win-win situation if you ask me.

(Alex places the entrée in front of him and considers its properties.)

CW77: I like to approach my food in a similar fashion to that of a Buddhist.

VFT90: You mean to stop and give thanks for where the meal has come from and acknowledge the sacrifice of the nature of the food and for who has made it?

CW77: Precisely.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

VFT90: Thanks so much Alex.

(Sam pauses to catch her fluttering breath.)

VFT90: I’ve heard of foreplay, but this is like food play.

(Alex smiles and winks into the cam for lecherous effect.)

VFT90: It’s like the whole mindfulness movement of late. Be in the moment…

CW77: A choice analogy. And to recreate the moment. Let me explain…

(Only now does Alex take the napkin from his left, unfurls it in a flourish to the side and places it across his lap.

Sam surreptitiously licks her lips and takes another sip of wine.)

CW77: You may also be more familiar with this than you think. I’m sure you might have heard his name. Each dish is in the fashion of Heston Blumenthal, contemporary nouvelle cuisine that doesn’t resemble anything in particular, but looks more like a science experiment.

VFT90: Oh, yeah. I know who you mean. I’ve seen him on the Food Channel. British guy with shaved head and big glasses like some protective eyewear from Myth Busters.

(Alex ponders this description for a moment and chortles without reservation at the association.)

CW77: Oh, Sam. Please refrain from such joking when I’m eating, for I fear I may choke.

VFT90: I’m Sorry. I promise. Only thing is I have never seen a quiche shaped like a pyramid before and the salad looks like barbed wire and severed footprints in the sand.

CW77: So what do you think it means?

VFT90: Oh, I don’t know. Something about the afterlife being cut off from freedom.

(Alex raises his glass and tips it ever so slightly towards the cam.)

CW77: Perhaps it does at that.

VFT90: Hey, don’t let me stop you. Don’t want it to go cold.

CW77: It doesn’t have to be hot. The shell of the quiche is treated with a hard glaze so it can contain the surprise inside and just needs to be warm to stimulate the juices. It’s all part of the artifice really. A ritual revelation. It’s like a magician spinning round the box to distract the audience. The bain-marie just adds to the spectacle.

(Alex raises his glass and toasts.)

(Sound of electronic chiming)

*

(The background score is now provided by Chopin’s Nocturnes.

Alex has finished his entrée and looks satisfied.

All through his consumption of the dish he pauses to interpret the flavours for Sam, who is sitting looking on expectantly and quaffing from the dregs of her first bottle of pinot.

She refrains from interrupting him and only speaks to answer his questions or quiver in response to a titillating tip.

They both remain clothed, only Sam is looking a little worse for wear and showing early signs of dishevelment brought on by drink.)

VFT90: So, how was it?

CW77: Sublime. A perfect melding of flavours and textures. It has done exactly what a good entrée should – it has tantalised my taste buds and prepared the way for the next course.

VFT90: I think I could guess by the look on your face it was like ecstasy.

CW77: I wouldn’t say it was consummation. Not approaching the climax, if that’s what you mean.

VFT90: Easy for you to say. You’re not a walking vibraphone.

CW77: Your gist I take in good jest. Touché.

VFT90: So long as it doesn’t have any gristle.

(Sam breaks into a sassy laugh and then stops abruptly to shake her head as if to rid it of cobwebs.)

CW77: How’s the wine?

VFT90: A perfect accompaniment, as you’d say.

(Sam hiccups and looks bashful.)

CW77: I dare say you’ve kept up with me drop for drop. That’s my white done.

(Sam holds her bottle upside down as if to prove she has drained its contents.)

CW77: Go easy. We still have the main to get through yet. I suggest you go and have a glass of water. Do you have any more wine?

VFT90: Sure do. Not sure what there is. I’ll go and take a look. Stay tuned…

(Sam takes her leave from in front of her laptop and goes to the kitchen, from where she returns after gulping down a glass of water and selecting another bottle.)

VFT90: I’m back. That reminds me of the movie Poltergeist – “They’re Back…” Have you seen it?

CW77: I can’t say that I have. Was it any good?

VFT90: Now that I come to think of it, maybe it was Poltergeist II. Anyway, it scared the shit out of me.

(Alex leers into the cam.)

CW77: Do you believe in the paranormal Sam?

(Sam is busy trying to open the new bottle of wine and is struggling with the cork screw. She finally manages to open it.)

VFT90: Well, I suppose there are just some things science cannot explain. I guess that until you can prove to me that something does not exist then I am open to entertaining the idea.

CW77: It is as well to keep a broad mind. Or a broad church of opinion, you could say.

(Sam hiccups.)

VFT90: Excuse me.

CW77: Remember to pace yourself. This is not a race. I think I can hold my wine a little more than you…

VFT90: You think so? Well, remember I am at the other disadvantage of not actually dining with you. I suddenly have a craving for cashews.

CW77: You’re doing very well. I won’t prolong the agony. Although, I wouldn’t recommend cashews with red wine. What have you got there?

(Sam examines the bottle’s label.)

VFT90: Looks like it’s a Merlot.

CW77: And how does it taste?

(Sam samples the new drop.)

VFT90: Silky smooth. Plums this time, not so much cherries.

CW77: You have a good palate, mon Cheri.

VFT90: And I’ll have blood red vampire lips at this rate…

(Alex takes the decanter of red wine from the table and pours himself a glass.)

VFT90: So, what’s your poison?

CW77: It’s a Chianti Classico. The Bordeaux of Italy. My preferred drop to accompany my choice of main.

(Alex raises his glass and takes a sip, followed by slurping sounds, sucking of cheeks and a lip smacking relish to swallow.)

CW77: To breaking taboos.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

(Sam is in the middle of raising her own glass in response when she must overcome the urge to throw its contents over her shoulder and has to grip the stem with both hands until the shudders subside.)

VFT90: That was close. Thanks so much. To our longevity…

CW77: And what of taboos, Sam. Is there anything you would not do?

(Sam pauses to reflect. She makes a point of copying the way in which Alex swirls the wine in his glass, only to a less fancy degree of proficiency, still without spilling a drop.)

CW77: That’s it. You’ve got it.

VFT90: That’s a hard one. I’m not sure…

CW77: Doubt always provides the stimulus.

VFT90: It depends on who’s making the taboos. If it’s the government, then I’m all for challenging them. If it’s society, you have to think of your own position. But, then society more often gives the government permission. Oh, I don’t know…

CW77: Come now. Think. What about the church?

VFT90: Now we’re getting messy. The separation of powers and everything.

CW77: Interesting.

VFT90: More like confusing. If we’re talking morals, and right and wrong, then it’s a personal thing. No, wait, a universal thing you have to believe in.

CW77: And what don’t you believe in, Sam?

VFT90: Well, hurting other people. Causing pain.

CW77: An example?

VFT90: Well, cheating in a relationship. Break it off first if it’s not working, if you can’t resist the temptation. Put yourself in their shoes.

CW77: Ah! That’s empathy for you.

VFT90: I suppose so.

CW77: What about certain individuals who enjoy suffering, who ‘get off’ on pain?

(Sam grimaces at first and then sniggers.)

VFT90: Oh, you mean like masochism?

CW77: I do.

VFT90: It’s a free country. Whatever turns you on.

CW77: And sadism?

VFT90: Provided it’s consensual. And not bound up in Satanism. That stuff makes my skin crawl. Creeps me out.

CW77: Interesting.

VFT90: What about you?

CW77: I must confess to a fascination with the idea of cannibalism.

(There is the briefest lull in the conversation while Sam processes this new information.)

VFT90: Right. OK. You mean like if you had to eat the flesh of a dead person to survive? Like that soccer team that crash landed in South America, yeah?

CW77: Yeah. That’s one example for you.

VFT90: Well, if it’s a matter of survival…

CW77: It is.

VFT90: Well, all I can say is that I wouldn’t want to do the food prep and it would have to be disguised to fool me. Then again, I think I’d prefer not to know.

CW77: Isn’t that morally ambiguous?

(Sam bites her purple stained bottom lip.)

VFT90: I guess that in some cases ignorance as bliss works to protect the innocent.

CW77: Are you innocent, Sam?

VFT90: Well, I wouldn’t go that far…

CW77: Excellent. Now, let’s see what we have for the main.

(Alex removes his entrée plate and goes to the side table where he places it to one side of the bain-marie. He selects a large clean plate and proceeds to serve himself from one of the warming compartments.

All the while he continues speaking, almost to himself, almost haphazardly out of character, but for the benefit of Sam who follows his every movement as if hypnotised; as if learning the arts of deportment from a master.)

CW77: For one thing, I could never eat the flesh if it resembled that of a human being. I mean, I’d hate to be able to identify the bodily organs of someone I knew. Take my best friend or neighbour for example…

(Alex returns to his place at the table. He pours himself another glass of the Chianti.)

CW77: Now. Let’s see what that blooming Blumenthal has conjured up for us.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

*

(The background score is now provided by Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon.

Alex has finished his main, consisting of yet another unidentifiable liver based dish with side.He sits contentedly surveying the effect the experience has so far had on Sam.She squirms under his gaze, appearing worn out and nonplussed as to how this could turn out to be so confronting, when she thought she’d just about seen it all before.)

CW77: That was heavenly. The gravy of onion, bacon and tomato transported the essential experience beyond a formality of mortal flesh and blood. The fried fingers of parsnip were a wonderful counterbalance to the overall consistency. At least I think they were parsnips. And the baby sprouts were delectably piquant. Are you sure you don’t like offal, Sam? It’s awfully good.

VFT90: No, it’s fine, really.

CW77: You don’t know what you’re missing out on. Cheers! To gastronomy!

(Alex raises his glass of wine, containing what is left of the decanter, and toasts the occasion’ success.)

VFT90: Forgive me Alex, but I can’t resist making this one: to gastric banding…

CW77: Indeed. We must balance things out and your quips are delightful.

(Sam raises her glass and what is left of her wine.)

(Sound of electronic chiming)

CW77: I trust that doesn’t make you feel too queasy. There’s a fine line between pleasure and pain, after all. I am tempted to say a divine line…

VFT90: I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping track of the time. My head’s a little foggy…

CW77: A little fog is perfect for Halloween. Don’t worry. We don’t appear to have gone over by much. I’ll make up the difference and then some.

(Sound of electronic chiming)

(Sam closes her eyes and appears to sway and swoon.)

CW77: Are you alright, mon Cheri?

(Sam opens her eyes wide and refocusses her attention.)

VFT90: Just a little tired. And hungry. I don’t mean to be rude, but are you ready for dessert, yet? I think I could use a coffee.

CW77: If you insist. I generally prefer to finish with a dessert wine as a rule. A noble way to finish. But, I won’t impose such wonts upon you. I don’t want you succumbing to somnolence before the final act.

VFT90: That’s kind of you.

CW77: I would suggest a double espresso or a long macchiato. Let’s pause and go and get yourself a coffee, while I open a Botrytis Semillon. I fear to say that dessert may not agree with you anyway – a triple chocolate tripe mousse cake.

(Sam appears to turn ashen beneath her makeup and she must control her cheeks from swelling in biliousness at the thought.)

VFT90: Afraid I’ll just have to make do with a strong instant.

CW77: More’s the pity. Go one then. I’m not going anywhere.

(Sam moves to get up and go to the kitchen, but sits back down again. She takes a deep breath. She feels as though she has lost her bearings and confuses her immediate surroundings with what she has been watching on her cam.It’s as though the physical environments have blurred, just like her vision.)

VFT90: What was that?

CW77: I beg your pardon?

VFT90: That noise.

CW77: Don’t tell me it’s your stomach rumbling.

VFT90: Very funny. There it is again…

CW77: Oh, that noise. I heard it this time. Sounds like someone knocking at the door.

(Sam’s eyes dart from side to side.)

CW77: Are you expecting someone? Trick-or-treaters, perhaps?

VFT90: They’d have to buzz the intercom.

CW77: Well, in that case, I suggest maybe you should answer it.

VFT90: I don’t know what the term is for it, but I’ve got a strange feeling about this.

CW77: That would be a presentiment.

VFT90: That makes sense.

CW77: Don’t worry. I’ll get it.

(Alex gets up from the table and leaves the cam’s frame of reference, as if to go and answer the door.

There’s another triple knock at the door.

Sam appears to snap out of her fugue state, gets up and goes to answer it.

She stops first at the hall stand mirror to make sure she doesn’t look too freakish. The get-up was especially for her room’s members, after all.

When she opens the door she is confronted by the spectre-like figure of Alex dressed as a gourmet home delivery man.)

Alex: Now that’s what I’d call a rare treat. I’ve had people answer the door in all kinds of dress ups, or downs, if you get my drift. Your order…

Sam: How much do I owe you?

Alex: Do you accept Bitcoin?

Sam: Hah! Nice try. You are BANNED and banished.

Alex: Why, thank you. Don’t mind if I do…

*

Michael Haward