Looking around the luxurious trailer, Prunella spotted Genissley's dead body, her mouth open in a broad smile, her fingers spread as if she died grasping at orbs of love, both of her hands reaching towards a pleasure-found heaven.
Prunella sat in confusion, wondering if she had done evil. Genissley’s death - it might be directly attributed to her killer vagina and therefore to an android. She felt a welling up of guilt, but realized that she had no power to control Aphrodite’s Rainbow. She recalled the depraved ranting and ravings, the insane pleadings of Genissley only a few hours previous . . . how she was called on God, how she declared she had gone to paradise, how glorious life was and how happy she would be to die with her tongue on the pot of gold at the bottom of Prunella’s Rainbow.
Every android knew the consequences for harming a human, even if not directly responsible. A CloneDroid would be decommissioned and then parsed out in serviceable parts to repair service droids from Timbuktu to Green Acres.
Seeing Leticia Frigginbottom’s face, now occupying hers in the reflection of wall mirror, she realized she still might be charged with Gen’s murder. Genissley had obviously murdered, assassinated many people, including the real human form of Leticia Frigginbottom. She also realized that the rig-a-marole about Congolese pubic lice was a total fabrication. She would be suspected of that murder, and perhaps even ventriloquist Larry Figueroa's death. . . and how many others?
So many people had seen them together in Bucks, in the Red-Purple Line Subway station, on the train and then there was that old fart on the pier selling burials in the sea. She knew he had a 3-D video camera and a realtor’s guile for a brain.
All she could think of was eliminating the body, as no crime can be persecuted without physical evidence in The Dome . . . a Sonnet struck her, giving her pause and time to reflect on how to dispose of human flesh without leaving a trace of evidence.
Two loves I have of comfort and despair,
Which like two spirits do suggest me still:
The better angel is a man right fair,
The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill.
To win me soon to hell, my female evil
Tempteth my better angel from my side,
And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,
Wooing his purity with her foul pride.
And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend
Suspect I may, but not directly tell;
But being both from me, both to each friend,
I guess one angel in another's hell:
Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt,
Till my bad angel fire my good one out.
There was a knock on the door. Through the window Prunella saw herself, as right outside was Medea, big as synthetic life and fuming mad with a scowl and an ugly tantrum on her face. She knew Medea saw her behind the curtain and she was taken aback, she froze, but realized she was the famous Leticia Frigginbottom and although her voice was still Prunella’s she could disguise it.
The idea of murder struck her, the idea of murdering Medea with her secret weapon, but then she would be required to engage Medea in sex and the thought of making it with such an evil woman (even with her old face) repulsed her.
She heard a key being inserted into the lock on the trailer door. Before she could get to the door, open it and offer an evading excuse for Genissley’s absence, Medea’s evil frown peaked in.
“Leticia Frigginbottom? I thought you were in Africa saving the Hottentots from pubic lice?”
If Medea entered further she would perceive the smiling dead face of Genissley so she hurried to the door and while pushing Medea out she grabbed a Mildred Pierced pie, two foon and said, "Lets swing and enjoy the pie outside . . . Medea, isn’t it?”
The Afghans gathered around, sniffed at Medea and the new Leticia, then sat back and began licking their android private parts.
Medea followed close behind Leticia, appraising her perfect body and asked, “we have never met Leticia, but you know who I am. You know my name. Have you seen my. . .
“Lovelace and Hard Drives, incredible performance!” Leticia said, realizing Medea was star-struck over meeting Miss Frigginbottom, possibly attracted to her and as of yet hadn’t recognized her voice.
“I have always been such a fan of yours.”
Leticia smiled and placed the pie and foons on a plastic white picnic table and then lowered herself into a swing set seat behind the trailer.
“I’ve come to see Gen” Leticia said, then stopped as she began to swing higher and higher. Gyro-algorithms within androids were not tuned to the concept of a swing-set in motion. Their internal sensor both interrupted the swinging as a ascension up a stairway, thereby causing each of the androids to apply Newtonian physics to the perpendicular motion, each swinging harder and harder until they both swung around the top of the swing-set like whirly-gigs in a shortening recoil.
Struggling to free themselves, after being pinned-in at the top of the swing, they both finally fell to the ground, landing hard with bioplastic-skinned knees.
“She's gone to the Congo to continue my work.”
“Genissley, no way! She hated all short people, especially Hottentots. The cops must be on to her.”
“That also,” Leticia said, in a sly way, suggesting she knew more than she did.
“You know about Genissley?"
“Gadhafi Ducks, Diners at the Nighthawk, Larry Figueroa, last night . . . I saw it all.”
“And friggin Little Larry escaped, the ventriloquist’s faithful android . . . slippery, sneaky, those delinquent little dummies. ”
“Couldn’t be avoided in all the commotion.“
“The cops must be onto Genissley, yes, cooling off in deep, darkest Africa for awhile is the best thing.”
“Her assassination list said Brandt David was next and the entire Sisley clone clan, with the old lady Sisley to be kidnapped . . . I was Genissley’s silent partner.” Leticia-Prunella said, in a bold assumption that Medea was the power behind Genissley’s failed juggernaut of death.
Medea looked over Leticia Frigginbottom with amazement, realizing Genissley often was more lesbian leaning than straight and had kept Leticia under wraps for herself, and then said,
“My eyes are failing me, my face is decaying and I needed Genissley to knock off Brandt, knock off the all the Sisley clones to control the fortunes, and then create a pure human clone of Lady Sisley if I am to . . . I need a partner and an assassin as good as Genissley. You were her partner, can you carry on the work Genissley started? Are you up to murder, kidnapping? You know how powerful I am, I can get you a human,” Medea said, and then trails off after the word human, as if she had accidentally revealed a great secret.
Prunella witnessed her old face decaying on Medea at the edges; microscopic flaws where make-up was applied thick and had hardened into a cake of android sweat and powdered Mexican Jumping Beans. Around Medea’s evil eyes she saw wrinkles, wrinkling upon wrinkles that had been subjected to Wolverine-Botox injections to no avail. She wondered how Davidson was tricked into marrying such a devious and decaying crone droid. Her days are numbered, she thought, as she heard Medea’s internal mechanism of android construction fighting within Medea's immune reactions in the mechanical realm. Even in the biomechanical realm; hate, anger, vengeance and revenge slowly destroys a body, deprives it of its vitality and the magic of self-recovery of its fundamental systems.
“What about Brandt’s clone, Davidson? Is he still playing the part?”
“My prone-bone of a husband clone, oh, I understand what you’re suggesting. We’ll make it look like he murdered Brandt, yes, it’s perfect. Davidson is half-crazy since Maui, since he fell for the bitchdroid Prunella and his sex upgrades, stupid fool is so malleable. Any woman with the right touch and a shoulder to lean on can get him to do anything she wishes. The bastard wants out of our CloneDroid marriage contract. No way I’ll grant him a droid-divorce, as I can control Brandt through him. That dreary droid is a complete waste of time and space.”
Leticia-Prunella fumed inwardly as she heard Medea dissing her man, but knew she had to move to the next step in the deception, “Genissley and I discussed Brandt and Davidson in detail. We also discussed, Gone With the Windows"
“Oh yes, that is the plan. Genissley said that was the way in, the way to get close to all of them, to destroy them. She was going to audition for the part of Belle Watling, something, something, something,the prostitute Madame from Encino. You go. Leticia Frigginbottom can get any part in any movie. Won’t Brandt be surprised to meet you again!”
As quick as Medea arrived, she was gone. But the plan was set into motion. Belle Watling somebody, somebody, somebody, hell no! Prunella, with her new face of Leticia Frigginbottom would prevail. She felt the old hate well up in her, the thought of Medea’s abuse of Davidson, about Medea’s evil schemes for him and decided. Scarlett O’Hara Gates, that was the part she would demand of Brandt David.
Staring into the mirror on the trailer wall she realized Leticia Frigginbottom was indeed far more beautiful than any woman’s face she had ever seen or worn. She felt she processed perfection, absolute feminine beauty and brains now, she felt renewed, suddenly the old confidence returned, it was reminiscent of the bitch-power-clout she first felt when she subdued Willard the Weird, but subtler, more tempered and sophisticated.
It was a confidence that if used with measured cleverness and combined with Aphrodite’s Rainbow magic, might make her the most powerful woman in the entire world, hell, the entire universe.
She wondered why Medea wanted Lady Sisley kidnapped, as holding her for ransom for YaunDollars made no sense. Medea already controlled an empire worth billions and then Leticia-Prunella realize something bigger was going on and she had to find out what it was and save Davidson.
Her desire for Davidson only increased as she thought about him, about his handsome face, his honest eyes, his smile.
A smile! She suddenly remembered Genissley smiling face, her dead body and ran towards the trailer. Opening the door, she once again saw Genissley’s contented face smiling to her. However, standing next to her was Little Larry, the ventriloquist's dummy, holding an ancient 357 Magnum pistol. The pistol appeared as big as a sawed-off shotgun in his stumpy little puppet fingers.
“Listen babe, honey-box, don’t know how you killed her, but I know you did. I can smell your tang all over her. Smell and smile like that says she went peacefully. Listen up, my lovely one; I’m on your team now,“ Little Larry Figueroa said in an eloquent, but chipmonkish voice. His mouth did not move, nor did any body part on him move or breath, breathe as his voice filled the trailer.
“Yes, she died happy,” Lawanda said, opening her dressing gown, attempting to excite the dwarf android with the undulating and misty pastel colors of her mysteriously activated Aphrodite’s Rainbow. She was surprised how quickly her sex organs lit up and flowed in tempting Popsicle colors, then realized her fight or flight or fuck fear response, towards this diminutive and surreptitious little lackey had kicked in.
“Look sister, I’m a friggin android, a second-rate ventriloquist’s dummy without nuts---hells-bells beautiful, I have a hole in my back full of strings my master pulls to get me to move. Don’t know what your tryin to do to me, but you’d have better luck shaggin’ the Afghan hounds outside.”
Not seeing a woody emerge on the dummy, she closed her dressing gown, entered the trailer, leaving the door open behind her. The Afghans congregated outside, and on the steps, sniffing and hound pointing with curious eyes at Little Larry, until they settled back to once again licked their private parts in android-poochy happiness.
“We got a stiff, a corpse, a cadaver, my friend, my pal of the flamboyant pudenda. Without a body no crime has been committed. You feed them droidy-hounds yet? Afghans Hounds, my little Honey-Cheeks about the stupidest dog ever replicated to android status and they eat anything. Get me a meat cleaver and we’ll get to work on Genissley. . . partner.”