Conversation · Kim Kitsuragi

"Yeah! I did some kids a solid. Turned their lives around."

"What was that?" He cups his ear -- the wind blows. "It sounded like you set up a night club in the church."

"Yeah! I did some kids a solid. Turned their lives around."

"You turned a church into a night club -- the kids are probably shooting up in there... What else did you do? Desecrate the altar? Shit in the chancel?"

"Get off the church-shit. It's making you sound crazy."

This isn't going to change a lot of minds, Harry.

"Yeah! And I discovered a hitherto unexplored entroponetical phenomenon in there too -- a two-millimetre hole in the world."

"That's great! Entroponaut is a great new career for you -- after police officer. I don't care. Go live in the fucking pale."

"Yeah! I reinvigorated the local nightlife."

"That's great! Night club owner is a great new career -- because you're done as a police officer."

"You have to believe me. There was a giant phasmid on the island."

"No -- I don't have to believe you made a zoological discovery. That is not a must. And even if you did... you're a cop. Who cares?"

"You know, Harry -- if I may interrupt -- it would help if you had evidence. Any proof -- and I'd play ball here. The PR potential would be quite something for the RCM."

"Suit, we have a shitload of proof. Spin it on them, pig!"

They're not going to consider more than one piece of evidence -- choose wisely.

Put the best proof forth. As solid as you've got.

"It was completely white on the inside, but brown and beige on the outside. Like reeds."

"Yeah, and it had like these... tufts of reeds on it. Even after it unfolded. And bitch -- it unfolded like crazy! It was fucking beautiful."

"That's not proof, it's a description. But -- befitting a stick insect. If it's camouflaged to look like the reeds then it would have to be pretty large."

"Large?!" The kid slaps his forehead in disbelief. "Gimp, it was fucking gigantic!"

"What you're giving us is not news. It's not proof, it's not even an observation. It's a cryptozoological factoid. You can get it from Paradox B, Aquarius, any mystery station..." He stops. "Here's my theory."

"You experienced a delirium hallucination. It's typical of cognitive damage. From years of chronic alcoholism. You started seeing shit in the reeds -- and convinced this poor kid of it too."

"POOR kid?! Fuck you, f***t! Cuno's loaded!" The boy clenches his bony fists so hard the knuckles turn white. "Can't believe* you're not believing me..."

Maybe it's true?

No. It's not true. It was there. It was real. You remember every detail of its sounds, its movements, its presence...

"Maybe I got too deep into what the cryptozoologists were telling me..."

"Literal cryptozoologists are involved? That's it. No more phasmid-talk. There's no PR-value in delirium tremens."

"Plants turning into bugs is a typical hallucination. Arche-typical even, dating back to many ancient tribal societies."

"Fucking... Cuno doesn't have a photo camera 'cause Cuno is fucking POOR, okay?! That sucks about the Cuno. So Cuno didn't take a fucking PHOTO. And Cuno didn't paint a fucking picture."

He points to his skull. "But it's in my head. In here. Cuno's eyes took the picture. It's RIGHT FUCKING HERE. I can't BELIEVE you're not getting this..." He grinds his teeth.

"Cuno -- please. If it's on the island, then it will be seen again. Calm down..."

"It will NEVER be seen again! It wasn't seen for a hundred years. Fuck Cuno and let's all pretend there was no miracle. We don't need a giant insect, everything is so good without it in this fuck-hole..." He looks around.

The sheer willpower in him MUST be making some dent in their incredulity. Some part of them must be thinking...

...if he is that certain. And they are not. C'mon...

"Fuck it -- I believe him." She looks at Vicquemare and shrugs.

"I knew it! The bitch sees it. Bitches are fucking smart. But you dicks are dumb as fuck! It's real, I told you."

Move on. Don't gloat.

That's it. The argument is lost.

You know, maybe you should become a beach bum? Just a thought... Because this isn't going too good.

"No. I know what I saw. It was real."

"Bugs everywhere. Plants turning into bugs. It's a typical hallucination. Every drunk past the age of forty has seen it."

"You're right about that..."

"I did hallucinate a talking tie..."

"The tie's talking again -- that's it. No more phasmid-talk. There's no PR-value in delirium tremens."

"I did have a conversation with a corpse..."

"With a corpse? That's it. No more phasmid-talk. There's no PR-value in delirium tremens."

"The damage alcohol has done to my mind is extensive..."

"No shit."

"You experienced a delirium hallucination. It's typical of cognitive damage. From chronic alcoholism. Which is what you have. So you started seeing shit in the reeds."

"It had gathered items in its nest: a helmet, a scope, and a passport."

"Some kind of a... what were they called? A bower? Yes. Things collected for a mating display. This would indicate a male. But... I don't know of insects displaying bowery behaviour."

"Shit was there -- display the shit, pig. The shit! It's the proof."

"This was there." (Show him the helmet.)

"It's a helmet. From the victim. Nothing about this even remotely proves the existence of a giant insect. Here's my theory, Harry."

"This is especially strange." (Show him the passport.)

"It's a passport. Waterlogged paper. Nothing about this even remotely proves the existence of a giant insect. Here's my theory, Harry."

"It had taken this -- from the killer." (Show him the scope.)

"It's a scope. From a gun. Nothing about this even remotely proves the existence of a giant insect. Here's my theory, Harry."

"It had gathered items in its nest: a helmet and a scope."

"It had gathered items in its nest: behold, a passport."