There was so much to do. And no second to be wasted. The thought of compromising years of hard-worked integrity turned her infantile frets into fierce resolve that matters must turn round.
“ Quick, I have to call the squad..yeah, that’s what I have to do.”
..even though the squad had not been summoned since the Japanese parasites of Intelbit threatened the accounts of fine, legitimate Londoners. Rushed by the adrenaline of prospective financial doom she jumped into the first phone booth she could find.
“ Rover, orange M-, repeat, orange M”.
“Ow, wwho, what? You serious though?”
“YES! she cut through Rover’s annoying drawl. I’ll be there in 10 minutes.
The man who made himself the author of her life not 2 minutes ago was being chased seconds after her conversation with Rove. Him, a regular shady banker with serious accountancy gaps, but sound scaremongery skills, has just been startled by the tax rate damaging his true accounts, and not the fake ones, as the directives commanded. The fucking bitch’ s faith was decided: annihilation.
Alice doesn’t do harm to people, but when it comes to cracking time she is no naive diva. She would actually do everything possible to bring righteousness victorious to the stage.
It’s here where the story gets hazy worthy of Lynch-ian scenes doubled by Vice City-like aesthetics, all on the backdrop of Italo disco.