Samhain: Jersey

A Story by Abishai100

Adaptation of the Mark Sullivan exposition novel concept of arms of leviathan and immortals-thinking for ninja-thievery, world-IQ, and destiny's goodies.

A bright Summer adaptation of a great work by Mark Sullivan (Thief), which I found in my local library (Jersey) this Summer. Hope you like,

DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction/adaptation offers no ties to the referenced work of Mark T. Sullivan and all images/references used herein (e.g., Blood Diamond) comprise a purely 'personal' expression for social arts (for 'open' reviews).

----

====

I was working as an eco-capitalism intelligence 'specter' in the West/East, a blood-diamond warlord-zones exploitations laughter specialist for expanses of rogue finances/arms for Earthling 'sportsmanship' requiring me to make bank-raids/swaps of rumored/insured conflict-zone gems with eco-message glass-animal toys for insurance gossip overground preceding possible media/gems presentation corruptions with merchants unaware of these motions of narcissism. That's how I landed in a Homeland-Jersey mansion party (Samhain circle) as what I'd really considered a 'tune' for my human skill/brain --- thievery (Facebook-like!).

My name's Amlan Satan, and I'm a thief. However, I became something of a 'James Bond' character in treasure-islands insurance intrigue, with an Interpol-relation ID-trick for intercepting bank storages with special media-theater shows about vault-securities displays with acid-gun props veiling my swaps of treasures with replicas or glass-animal toys for street-insurance chatter about conflict-zone gem extractions worry/fiction, facilitative of consumerism in festival-areas of commerce seasons like Mardi-Gras (Facebook-like!).

I met Esmerelda at a Homeland-Jersey hostel station (Inn-Express). She'd been working as a housekeeper; and I told her to escort me to the Samhain party at a mansion hosted by the ruthless diamonds black market 'engineer' of North America (Endymion) who held (rumored?) blood-diamond piece jewelry in his house-vault/safe, which I would open with HCL (and absinthe inoculation of the bad-baron and his costumed guests). Esmerelda ('Ezzy') and I appeared at the party with Interpol-ID 'plastic' and requested a diamond-theater in his basement-gin room where his vault was located. This was instant creativity for me; and it pleased Endymion (the bad-baron of the American Homeland).

ENDYMION: So, Ezzy's costumed as a maid; and you as a Mardi-Gras clown/jester, Mr. Bond.

ME: Call me Satan, bad-baron; this vault-gin room jewelry juggling act with absinthe's clean!

ENDYMION: Why don't I show-off some of my pieces to you myself...also my antique guns, Mr. Bond.

ME: I just want the facts...Ezzy's got to return to the hotel of work tomorrow afternoon (ok?).

ENDYMION: Proceed!

We made off with $10M of Endymion's (rumored?) blood-diamond pieces and left eco-capitalism insurance notes with Interpol-relation examination news-imagery for him to simply forget us and tie up his loose-ends with his own Empire eco-capitalism legalese (wow). This was Facebook-like (surely!).

BARON ENDYMION: I'd like to know if Interpol sent those two musketeers for eco-show.

CONSULTANT: We'll spin your Samhain gathering for eco-consciousness affair.

BARON: Aha, a self-created (prepaid) eco-insurance theater for street-hyperbole?

CONSULTANT: Perhaps Mr. Bond really was James, Endymion (ok).

BARON: Facebook-like (Happy Halloween).

ESMERELDA: We're off to Brussels (Belgium)?

ME: For our retirement-view waffle-dive, Ezzy.

ESMERELDA: Seems vigilantism is not dead, Mr. James Bond.

ME: Forget my past...and become my present (without absinthe).

ESMERELDA: Facebook-like (ok)?

_________

Thus concluded the fantastic tale of Mr. Amlan Satan, and his ally-angel 'Bond-girl' (Esmerelda/Ezzy); they fled to Brussels and opened a waffle-dive or organic foods and forgot about the past and made toast to the future of this Earth destiny (ok). They found a new brand of immortality and thought less earnestly about warlord-diamond zones (Sierra Leone) of tribal/clan/warfare agenda and world-smugglers/extractions laughter and more seriously about the bright Romanticism of how they'd meet in that hostel-station in a Homeland-Jersey pit stop en-route to Endymion's claw-mansion of treasure-islands insurance photo-synthesis blackness (for the Ego).

We don't need to know the full details of how Satan ('James Bond') procured his plastic-entryway into Endymion's Samhain gathering with his Interpol-ID claims for treasure theater and antics for the aristocratic underground but only need understand the bad-baron had to rescind his North American arms of smuggling/piracy/arms slightly enough to allow Amlan/Esmerelda to begin their newfound life away from the Satanic/Western banks of 'synthetic' cleats (for the Ego!).