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Excerpts from "The Night Show, Vol. 2: Signals From Noise"
[From "The Mansion: A Crash Course In Things That Never Happened" (A Foreword to Signals From Noise)]
[From "Catching Smoke"]
So far, this story has nothing objectionable for any reader’s palette, no
matter how sensitive. Such would no longer be the case if the next three
hours were to be illustrated in any sense, literary or otherwise. We can get
a sense of things from the fear in Frankie’s eyes as he averts them from
what’s going on far too close to the beam he’s handcuffed to, sagging there
helplessly like a side of beef waiting his turn for the butcher. Throughout,
he attempts to cover his ears with his arms, suspended vertically above his
head, but there is no way to close out all the sound. As night falls beyond
those re-closed barn doors, he can only wait for Len to arrive, and sort out
this colossal mess.
A.J. had gone to get food just after Wendell “took control of the situation”
and never came back. This was three hours ago. Most likely, Pryce made some
prior mention of what he intended to do and A.J. realized coming back might
not be in his best interests. Now, Frankie just feels stupid, for thinking
fear would get them the information they wanted. He should’ve known Len
would pull in Wendell as insurance that answers were obtained. He also
should’ve known Len would not share this information with him beforehand. If
he had, Frankie would’ve talked him out of it.
“We the people … are always the last ones to know. Ain’t that right, Officer
Parsons? Let’s put aside the Majestic papers for now, and try Nevada, again,
Mr. Secret Keeper. How many underground levels are there at Area 51, and
describe each right down to the tile in the bathrooms.”
“I told you. I’ve never been there. If you want me to make something up—”
Parsons’ same old song and dance ended abruptly this time, and Frankie
winced as though he was catching the punch, himself.
Frankie wailed, “He doesn’t know!”
“Frankie, I’m not asking you, am I?”
“You’re going too far, Wendell!”
As Wendell prepared to refute this claim just as loudly, he was stopped by a
soft ringing they all heard at once. It was Parsons’ cell phone, removed
from his jacket by Wendell before all of this started down the road to
disaster. Frankie tried to anticipate the future moments, and came up with
absolutely nothing.
“Talk to your friends,” Wendell told Parsons. “Tell them the information was
legitimate. You are within sight of wreckage and a body. No! Hold on. Tell
them that, and then tell them you hereby tender your resignation.”
“Wendell,” Frankie screamed. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Shut up, Frankie. We’re getting some answers tonight on this thing. Once
and for all.”
Frankie turned himself around and watched Wendell hold the cell phone to the
ear of the man strapped to a chair, bleeding and just as incapacitated as
Frankie.
“Do it right, boy,” Wendell suggested.
Parsons cleared his throat and rallied himself to the undertaking. Frankie
hoped for Parsons’ sake that he planned to play along.
[From "Scratching the Surface: Underground Bases,
Facilities, Laboratories & Playgrounds" (A Foreword to "Hatchet's Course")]
At the conclusion of the previous story, our hoaxer finds himself in an
underground facility used for perpetuating a UFO hoax on a grander scale
than he could ever imagine, but this is a mild use for such places,
according to several people (Myrna Hansen and Dr. Karla Turner’s
“abductees”) reported to have seen them. The first question should be: are
such places possible to build and go undetected from the surface?
[1] Patton, p. 264: [“Seizure of Bald Mountain and other perimeter areas.”]
[2] Dolan, p. 327
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