(A collaboration by D’arcy and Lucia)
Media has destroyed the world as we know it.
The year is 2020. The world is under lock down by the Wunhung-low Wangchung Flu, and is a terrifying place ruled by media. Once glorious, America is now possessed.
Brave best friends, Lucia and D’arcy are humanity’s only hope. They find a secret revolutionary organization called The Twenty Three and join them. The plan is jeopardized when D’arcy is tricked by cowardly Fake News Media, and injures her middle finger.
Armed with guns and brains, the indomitable duo try their best to save mankind, but can they defeat the blatantly biased media and restore America to its former glory?
Dressed for battle, Lucia in her Doc Martens and torn jeans, and D’arcy in her black leather jumpsuit and Louboutin boots, armed themselves and set about their plan. First stop: 30 Rockefeller Plaza. Those bitches at NBC were going down.
Quickly, they spread out and stake out the building. Getting access was going to be a problem; then opportunity struck. Chucky Todd was leaving and quickly intercepted by D’arcy; who showed him her magnificent cleavage and pulled him into a van. He was the ticket in; the girls needed to convince him quickly. As luck would have it, Chuck really is an idiot, but realized he had no choice but to cooperate.
“Look, Chuck…here’s the deal. You help us, you live. You don’t…you’ll be singing soprano in the Vienna Boys Choir. We just need to settle a couple of scores and take over the airwaves for no more than 10 minutes. We’ll make history, and if you help, you’ll be part of it. So what do you say?” said D’arcy, as she shoved her chest up and out in her best lace bra (thank you, Trashy Lingerie) towards Chuck.
“Uh…ohhh…I…lord, help me…so what do I need to do?” stammered Chuck, his eyes glued to the cobwebbed lace, barely there bra. “All you have to do is get us inside after everyone’s gone.” snarled Lucia, who had magnified her her Bronx persona and added Detroit and Oakland for good measure. “But there’s cameras everywhere,” he blubbered. “Not for long – I’ve got an electronic jammer that will freeze it for the 15 seconds we need to race upstairs,” said Lu. “And then we need a live feed, even if it’s to the West Coast. Whatever we do, it’s going to go viral in a nano-second.”
“Wha…what do we do if we run into someone?” Chuck asked, now somewhat calmer and slightly intrigued. “We’re Russian hookers; who cares? Just go along with it…do we need to pour some booze down your throat?” D’arcy waved a bottle of Scotch in front of his face. Poor guy was sweating like a pig, and starting to smell like one. “Yes, please. Some Scotch. Not too much, just a shot.” She grabbed his head back and poured a healthy amount down his throat. He coughed, and Lucia cackled as she put on her hot pink feathered wig.
D’arcy donned her wig; a platinum blond bob with bangs and put on some blue sparkle lipstick. If she was going to go trashy, might as well go all the way…
(To be continued……..)