💣 001 | audio

[devoutish]

[There's the sound of fumbling and a little bit of unintelligible muttering before any real words are spoken - the communicator isn't hard to figure out, but it still takes some practice to get the hang of.]

-- this button here, and then-- oh, there we go. Have I got it? Hello.

[Alfie's voice is deep and rumbly, and very Cockney. He switches on the video next. It's zoomed in too close on him to give any real clues to his surroundings - there's just the back of a couch and a blank wall visible behind him - but his clothes are clearly old-fashioned.]

Fucking fantastic, these things. Looking at your little images on the screen, it's like you're really there. Yeah, wonderful picture quality. I'm very impressed. But I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, should I - bigger and bolder seems like something of a trend here. I discovered one of your supermarkets earlier this morning. Fucking hell, the size of that place. Entire aisles set aside for nothing but ketchup; for ice cream. Hats off to the future, eh?

[And since he's actually wearing a top hat, he goes ahead and tips it.

But despite his conversational tone, his eyes are deadly serious. He narrows them a little, as he peers closer at the screen. He seems calm and affable, sure - but if you look behind that front, it's clear that he is very much not happy with how his day is going.]

Right. How many people am I speaking to, right now? Is it just those who've been brought here like me, or do I also have the pleasure of the army's company?

[Because he would like to have words.]

Comments

[foreshadower]

Oh, well. I suppose I can agree to that, at least.

[ He leaned forward, before: ]

Let's see what you have, then.

[devoutish]

No, you're going first.

[foreshadower]

Very well, very well.

[ A sigh, like showing off is so terrible. ]

I suppose you could say I match my name very well.

[ Behind him, the shadows seem to grow, and twitch, like alive. ]

[devoutish]

[Alfie pulls his pince-nez up onto his nose, leaning in to look at the little screen.]

And what are you doing there? Bringing them to life? Controlling them?

[foreshadower]

Oh, I suppose.

[ He waved a hand, leaving a trail of shadows that flaked off, and drifted down, like a snake shedding it's skin. ]

I am them, really.

[devoutish]

That's impressive. Yeah, very spooky. It's a hit with the kids, is it?

[foreshadower]

I wouldn't know. It's a hit with the superheroes, though. Quite fun!

[devoutish]

Is that what you are?

[foreshadower]

Not at all! I'm a supervillain.

Or was, until I retired.

[devoutish]

And now?

[foreshadower]

Now I'm a retired old fool who spends too much time cooking and gardening.

[ A pause. ]

Now! I believe there was an exchange here.

[devoutish]

All right. Wait a moment.

[Alfie stands, disappearing off-screen. He's back a minute later, holding a plate with a small scoop of Cherry Garcia ice cream on it.]

Ice cream. Yeah?

[He holds it out a little closer to the camera, making sure it's easily visible. Then he touches the scoop with a finger. Instantly, it's replaced by a fresh, steaming loaf of--]

Bread.

[There's still a smear of ice cream on his finger from when he'd poked it. He licks it off.]

[foreshadower]

Oh my!

[ He clapped his hands together, obviously delighted. ]

Is that only with food?

[devoutish]

Drinks turns into rum.

[And then there's the telekinesis, but that can be a surprise for later, maybe.]

[foreshadower]

Any other alcohols, or are you restrained to only these?

[devoutish]

Just rum, 'cause it's my rum, and this is my bread. It's a little bit of home, I suppose.

[foreshadower]

Your bread and rum?

Are you a baker and a distiller?

[devoutish]

What's so odd about that?

[foreshadower]

Unusual.

And not in a bad way.

[devoutish]

Thanks, mate; I'm flattered.

[foreshadower]

Good!

Now, is your bread better than everyone else's? I'll admit, I'm partial to high-quality crafts.

Even if it is bread and rum.

[devoutish]

It's the best bread in London. Old family recipe.

[foreshadower]

Now that's something I'd have to decide for myself. I've had the best bread in London, as far as I know.

[ A pause. ] Mind, that's not saying much. We've never been very good about our food.

[devoutish]

Who else has been telling you that they make the best bread in London? I may need to have a word with them.

[foreshadower]

Every baker on Spitalfield's makes that claim.