Miss Willow looked down at the bag of Tayto Snax she was about to consume when Onion-Sama-PD-nim came in from another looooong lunch looking both tired and gleeful.
His lottery ticket was now framed and sitting on his desk alongside photos of his family. He picked it up and gave it a smile.
He was now financially able to dine with movers and shakers from all sorts of fields of endeavor. His noontime meals were, he thought, providing him with valuable professional connections he had hardly dared to imagine a few years before.
And he believed he was developing some genuine personal connections, although he got a little tired of hearing BoJo and Nigella Lawson bickering over the wine list when they flew in for Italian fine dining, Seoul style.
“OK,” said Miss Willow.
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(Giphy)
She rummaged in her purse and took out her snack bag cutter-sealer from Walmart (for which she paid extra to have it shipped from the U.S.).
https://www.walmart.com/ip/Mini-Bag-Sealer-2-1-Heat-Sealer-Cutter-Handheld-Vacuum-Portable-Resealer-Plastic-Bags-Food-Storage-Snack-Fresh-Battery-Not-Included-2-Pack/599600924
“I am both practical and flexible.”
After reducing the contents to crumbs, she zipped open four bags of Tayto Snax from the stash under her desk, dumped them in the Mega-Super-Cup-Noodle-O-Death she had just taken out of the office microwave, then shoved it to the side.
"New Zealand at Level 4 for whatever reason . . . hardly auspicious.
“I suppose,” she said (watching OSPD-nim and his lottery ticket), "that we can revert to our original plan to a large extent. The ultimate visual impact of our story would have to rely on post-production work. That’s where the bulk of our funds would probably be best utilized.
"If we re-assign some roles, rely on phones and selfie sticks for raw footage, and confine ourselves to known locales that have iconic signifiicance, we can get out and get the job done before the weather starts to turn, but you are correct, O Imaginative One.
“We lack a script. And we lack a script because, whatever kick-ass story we come up with, we lack characters with a story to tell.”
Miss Willow pulled her Mega-Super-Cup-Noodle-O-Death toward her, lifted the foil, and sniffed. She pulled a pair of chop stick out of a pencil can on her desk and stirred.
"I’m Scotch-Irish, you know. I have the second sight. I’ll just throw out what I see as the auspicious answer: three. Start with three.
"I have heard people say that the number one is the start of all things. However, one symbolizes undifferentiated potential. Two symbolizes awareness of possibilities, including negative ones. Three symbolizes action, growth, balance, order, and fulfillment.
“Start with three characters. Name them, claim them, get to know them.”
She shifted her attention to her cup noodles and started slurping. Her Samsung Galaxy A21 buzzed in her jecket pocket. She sighed, put her chopsticks down, and answered it.
“Yes? Yes. Oh, really? Left it at the restaurant? Okay, I’ll let him know.” She disconnected and looked at OSPD-nim and sighed.
“That was the Italian Battalion Ristorante and Wine Bar. The maitre d’ says you left behind a gift that the PM of the UK brought for you.”
OSPD-nim smacked his forehead. “How could I forget? We were all in such a rush to leave. Oh, I hope it’s brandy. That would be super!”
Miss Willow shook her head slightly. “Your present seems to be a gift relayed from the PM of Australia, a koala bear named Niles. Apparently he’s sitting in the office of the maitre d’ and eating eucalyptus pesto on fetttucine.”