Chapter 3 – Gardener of Human Happiness
Saturday, Sept 21, 2013
“It’s all going to start on Roma Island. We’re going to…” I paused. There was no time to describe the plan when there were still so many shoes to try on. “Actually, just look at the list of outfits and everything will be clear.”
I tossed them my phone and grabbed the next shoebox.
“I thought you said four pairs of shoes,” said Teddybear. “There’s like 20 things on here.” He looked back down and started reading the list aloud. “Three bikinis, men’s swim trunks, Grecian referee togakini… What the hell is a togakini?”
“It’s a cross between a toga and a monokini. What else would it be?” Why is Teddybear being so basic?
“So like…a one-piece with your boob hanging out?” He gave me a seductive smile.
“Exactly! But I’m sure Justin will make it tasteful.”
“Of course.” Teddybear went back to reading the list. “Okay…these next two make sense, but you’ve lost me with the noblewoman stolakini.”
Slavanka ran out of the dressing room wearing nothing but one black boot. “Stalin-kini?! I wear! I wear!”
“No,” I said. “Not Stalin-kini. Stola-kini. As in…the garment worn by noblewomen in ancient Rome. But combined with a bikini.”
“We no honor Gardener of Human Happiness?” She looked so sad.
“I wasn’t planning to, no. And I’m not sure those are the words I would use to describe Stalin…”
“You prefer Great Leader?” she asked. “Or Brilliant Genius of Humanity?”
I was about to tell her about the millions of people that Stalin starved, but I didn’t want to burst her bubble. “Sure.”
“Wait,” said Teddybear. “So it is a bikini in honor of Stalin? What would that even look like?”
“It would have to come with a fake mustache,” said Simon.
“Grey bikini with red on collar,” said Slavanka. “And officer cap. Very sexy.”
I shook my head. “No. Stolakini.”
“Yes yes,” said Slavanka. “Stalinkini.”
Dear Lord. “You know what, let’s just move on to phase 2 of the plan.”
“Phase 2?” asked Teddybear. “But I don’t even know what the point of phase 1 is. Other than to honor Stalin I guess?”
I set the shoebox aside and took my phone back from my very dumb bodyguards. “Okay, let me break it down for you.” I rolled out a big sheet of wrapping paper, flipped it over to the back side, and started drawing a map of my plan. First up was a quick sketch of Roma Island. I pointed to it with the pencil. “This is the resort’s weak spot. We can sneak onto the island tonight while there’s no security. And then when the three guards come over on the boat tomorrow morning, we’ll steal their IDs. That’ll give us access to…”
“Wait,” said Teddybear. “How are we gonna steal their IDs?”
“I pretend I Great Leader,” said Slavanka. “Order guards give me ID.”
“You really think that’ll work?” asked Simon. “I don’t think the three guards on the island are Russian.” He flipped to the employee list in his stack of documents. “Yeah, no. Marco Rossi and Giuseppe Esposito sound like full-blooded Italians. And unless Hakeem Washington is a Russian spy, then I think you’re outta luck.”
“Mussolini outfit very similar to Stalin,” said Slavanka. “Il Duce!”
“Why not just dress up as Hitler?” I joked.
Slavanka spit on the floor, narrowly missing a box of Odegaards. “Hitler bad.”
“So that’s where you draw the line? Good to know.”