The Secret Life of Esteban Moody
Posted by Esteban
the new dance floor at Clockwork
Let me tell you a secret. Are you ready? The secret is this: you’re not who you say you are. You’re a secret agent. You’re in disguise. You have a secret mission.
Remember that night in Monaco when you almost ran me over in your Veyron? You were with a strange man. What was in that envelope? Did you think my feelings were hurt when you pretended not to know me?
I know what you’ll say: that your little cat-and-mouse games are for the good of humankind. That jelly doughnut is a radio transmitter. They implanted cyanide capsules in your teeth. Your cybernetic eyes give you x-ray vision. Your telephoto lens is really a gun and your gun is really a telephoto lens. If not for you, the earth’s core would have exploded last week, the population of Eastern Europe would have been wiped out by a brain-eating virus, and Fort Knox would have been blasted into space by a deranged ex-president.
Well, my friend, I will tell you another secret: I’m an agent, too — a double-agent — and my mission is to make you think you’re a secret agent. Yep, that’s right. That recruiting office in Moscow where you signed up? A front! Those filing cabinets were empty and that “mental aptitude test” was just a ruse (uh, not that your score was actually the “highest in recorded history,” either). That first “mission” in Caracas? A carefully orchestrated set-up: there was no atom bomb in Martín’s suitcase, no heroin in the soccer balls, no kidnapped US senator, and no zombie army controlled by an evil mastermind — just local university students who thought they were extras in a horror film. And, no, you didn’t stop the planet from exploding, invent a cure for a brain-eating virus, or defuse any giant rocket-blasters on Fort Knox. I’m sorry.
Why am I telling you all this? Well, like I said, I’m a double-agent. The forces who employ me wanted you distracted, and then your ego crushed when you realized none of it was real. You’d have become a babbling idiot, no one would believe your crazy stories, and you’d spend the rest of your life in a straightjacket. Not a bad plan, actually. My employers think you’re dangerous.
But what’s really been happening? Sure, it’s all been fake, but the fact is that I’ve been training you to be the world’s most dangerous secret agent — and it’s worked. Every obstacle, every enemy, every false clue I’ve put in your path? You’ve brushed them aside with your steely aplomb. No, you didn’t stop the planet from exploding, but you would have if it had been going to.
I’m telling you because your training is over. Congratulations. I wish we had time for a party. The fact is that now that I’ve told you, I may not have much time. In fact, I hear someone coming up the stairs now: a lurching limp, the smell of Egyptian cigarettes. Don’t let me down, kid. Get out there — the world needs saving. It needs it bad. Go!
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Funk me, it’s Friday! | 28 March 2008: play or right-click here to download.
Set list:
James Brown: Nose Job
Freddie & The Kinfolk: Blabbermouth
Jesse Anderson: Mighty Mighty
Lefties Soul Connection: The Chank
The Pinker Tones: One of Them
Georges Deligny: Panique au salon (Grooveblaster remix)
Ingram: Get Your Stuff Off
Misterholmes & The Brotherhood: Thrift Store Find
Sonido Lasser Drakkar: Pontiac Firebird ’82
Underground Maniatikas: Lean Like A Chola
Amalgamated Funk Co.: I Wanna Take You Out
The Brothers Johnson: Come Together
Mad Dog & The Pups: Hep Squeeze (Party Time)
Main Source: Fakin the Funk
Orgone: No More Gravy
The Politicians: Love Machine (Instrumental)
Pacha Massive: Don’t Let Go
The Falcons: I Can’t Help It
The music you play makes me dance, your writing makes me smile. Its comforting to know people like you exist in the world.
So if all that wan’t real, you’ll
*never* know what was in that envelope.
It works both ways, Esteban.
Everyone has their lies, their
false eyelashes, the shoe risers.
The color of your shirt says
more about you than your resume.
Your eyes lie until, in an
unguarded moment, they betray you.
I saw through you from the beginning.
Your transparency will kill you.
It’s a trap, because you think
nobody sees it, so you stay past
the point where it’s too late.
Your shirt neatly folded on the chair,
the risers next to your shoes, you
fall into bed weightlessly, not
knowing you are dying, and the
butterflies are only your own lashes
blinking out the last of the light.
@ Chestnut: hope I’ll see you tonight!
@ Seraphine: But I don’t have a résumé!
Thanks for the wonderful response!
*shivers*
I choose to accept it!
Don’t kid yourself, we all have resumes.
Sure there was a brain-eating virus. Your friends tried to unleashe it. Good it wasn’t you, it would make us heavier to stop you. But you were busy training me with Martin’s suitcase, soccer balls and zombie students. Speaking of which, their eyes were not quite normal. Check them anyway, pee-test would probably do the thing.
Now, to the next level. And next time we meet in Monaco, don’t be a stranger. Not even because you are sitting with your commander. After all, I still have those photographs about how he learned about Stockholm case from the girl that, you know that already, works for us.
@ Soph & Seraph: all applications accepted!
@ dande: curses! foiled again!