Rage Page #5
or at home, in private,
but not so much in front of everyone.
It's not good to die in public,
on the street,
surrounded by strangers.
Anyway, me, I prefer to explore life.
I came here to this city
because it is full of life.
Empty, meaningless, I admit,
but, nevertheless, not dead,
Michelangelo.
Not dead is better.
interview me one more time.
I mean, that's what I thought.
Am I right, yes? No?
You tell me. You let me know.
Because what happened to me was,
talking to you before,
kind of stirred me up a little bit.
Yeah, it did.
And I realised that, you know,
my opinions aren't generally taken
into consideration.
That's because
in my line of activity,
the attributes of loyalty
are so much more important
than your attributes of opinions.
Cos, a bodyguard...
What does a bodyguard do?
He's gotta stay close to his subject
at all times, all the time,
and you're wondering what am I doing
here right now, right?
Well...
Well, Mr Diamonds said,
"Hey, go take the afternoon off.
"Take a few hours off. You deserve it."
You know what that's called?
It's called esteem. Esteem for loyalty.
I mean, I don't...
I don't need time off,
when I'm not covering his back.
He could be talking
to other bodyguards, for instance.
Yeah, right?
I mean, I'm not concerned as such,
I'm not concerned,
because, well, I'm... l'm that guy,
that one-in-a-thousand kind of a guy.
I'm that guy
that will go the distance.
I will go all the way.
They no respect for the dead!
They no respect for nothing,
Michelangelo!
Dorothy, Bonnie, they pass on!
Poor babies.
They just babies! Like you!
My daughter, yesterday night,
she say she see
what you doing on internet.
She say she see me speaking!
She say, "Mum, you are famous!"
But I do not want to be famous!
I want to be invisible!
Invisible!
So you stop now.
Right now, Michelangelo!
Child, you go home.
Please!
Pray to lord for souls of dead!
Hello, dear.
Are you all right?
This is a terrible, terrible time
for us, Michelangelo.
Actually, I'm really not sure
that you should still be here.
Poor Dorothy.
Poor Bonnie.
Even if she was a little difficult...
Well...
She made the people in the backroom
suffer, you see, at her fittings.
The lateness,
the screaming, the insults.
She insulted me, too, often enough.
She had to have this
and she had to have that.
Whatever you did was wrong.
Whatever you paid her,
it wasn't enough.
It was a nightmare.
Of course, it was galling to think
that in one day, a so-called day,
she earned more than some workers
earn in six months or even a year.
It doesn't seem fair, does it?
Well, but then there she was
the next day on the front pages.
You know, dear, my father,
he started this business from nothing.
They both did.
And I was their only child.
I wanted to go to law school.
I wanted to be a politician.
But how could I let them down?
I couldn't do that.
And now it all seems irrelevant.
Bonnie's family are flying in.
The whole thing is unbearable.
I can't even bear to talk about it.
Not even to you.
Let me tell you that this is
one of the worst days of my life.
Remember how I told you
Minx's best friend was the light?
Well, now I realise I was wrong.
Bonnie was my best friend.
Bonnie.
I saw that crystal clear today
when I went to the airport
to pick up her parents.
It was a good photo opportunity
for Minx.
So she went,
even though it was very early.
You didn't laugh at my little joke
against Minx, Michelangelo.
Maybe you don't have
a sense of humour.
Anyway, her family...
...are fat.
They're all fat and small.
Her little sister
looks like a sausage.
Look over there.
But they loved Bonnie.
They loved her.
Nursed her through the operations,
the eyes, the nose, everything.
Worked night and day
to pay for it all.
And now she's gone.
All for nothing!
The detective asks me
how I feel about my models.
I told him again and again,
I adore them.
Of course, Michelangelo!
They wear my designs!
OK, OK, Dorothy was,
I must admit, tiring.
It was the tears like a fountain.
And Bonnie was, I admit, a nightmare,
but in the show, you see,
she was a winner.
She could walk, you see.
And then there was the hair, red,
which was, in my opinion, overrated.
That's why I put her in a wig
but not just any wig, you understand.
A 30-metre long black braid,
Chinese reference.
It was superb, truly superb.
A little bit heavy, I agree.
But, anyway, she hated it.
Hated me for making her wear it.
And then, you see, Michelangelo,
models, they hate this or that.
Ultimately, they hate each other.
Like all women do.
So what do I do now, you might ask.
Well, first, I wait for Forensics to come
back to me about the line of fire,
complicated by the mother of all wigs,
apparently,
and then I look for motive.
I've been talking to people.
I've been asking questions.
Lots of questions.
From what they's been saying to me,
seems everybody loved everybody here.
These fashion folk
doth protest too much.
For praising what is lost
makes the remembrance dear.
Between you and me...
...l'm a little nervous,
because you know what they say,
these things happen in threes.
And I'm damned
if I'm gonna be the third.
Minx, stay on top!
Yesterday... Was it yesterday?
I was trying to explain to you
my views on fashion and morality.
I do feel my views
have been vindicated.
Forget beauty. Forget creation.
Look at the human race.
What do you see? Look honestly.
Not a species of creatives.
Humans are, quite simply,
the greatest destroyers of all time.
Rape and pillage is the norm.
And not just of each other
but of the planet.
You'll be lucky if there is a planet
when you reach my age.
Afraid? You should be.
Well, the world of fashion
is no exception.
It thrives on fear and on hatred,
Michelangelo.
Fear of failure,
hatred of the non-entity.
And why?
Cos only the brightest sparks
will gleam for longer than a moment.
None of us seek oblivion.
In fact, we are all
secretly foot soldiers,
marching in a great army
against time.
It's a hopeless cause.
Hopeless.
Speaking of which, I'm sure
you are aware of the students
standing around outside with their...
Their tacky placards
and cliched slogans.
Listen.
To a worker in the Dominican Republic
or a village in China
a garment factory is not a sweatshop.
It's an employment opportunity.
You know something, Michelangelo?
Merlin kept this collection
under wraps.
He said it would be
a wonderful surprise.
music, dancing, beading.
Now, you put that together
with a fragrance
and a brand name that works any time,
any place, any language,
you are on to a winner.
And they came up with M.
Mysterious. Magical. Mother.
Excellent name for
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"Rage" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/rage_16521>.
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