this little problem of ours contained, and with a very specific purpose. Now it’s all shot to Hell, breaking out not only across the country but other parts of the goddamn world. Complete and utter chaos…and what does our so-called ‘President’ do?”
He took a massive bite into the cut of beef.
“Well it’s not surprising. See that’s what happens when you open up the White House to a-“
And with that, Delphine waved her hand, cutting him off. Joseph looked across the table to see the slightly distraught face of his son Blake. A strapping young man at the tender age of 23, his striking features and figure had become a rather chiseled copy of his father’s from earlier years. A political science major at Loyola University, he was already pegged to carry on the Devereaux legacy in every way. Famous throughout the upper social class circles of New Orleans, the young buck’s penchant for women and drink became well documented. The apple certainly didn’t fall far from the tree. Beneath the polished, chiseled exterior of the young lad’s face was a longing that brought a bit of melancholy to the moment.
“Joseph, I’ll not have that kind of talk right now,” Delphine commanded. “Not civilized conversation at the dinner table, especially in front of our son.”
“I’m just stating the obvious honey,” he fired back. “We’ve had these second rate protesters popping up all throughout the city, complaining about equal rights, affordable medica l care and the like, all the while taking a free ride on the backs of decent Americans like you and I. This situation has gotten so out of control that we’ve had to cordon off the savages in cages around the city…and even that’s beginning to become a problem! Talk about ‘the 99%’...my ass!”
“Can we give it a rest for one day please?” the young man commanded. “This city is out of control and most of my friends have either skipped town or died. Pretty soon there won’t be much of a city left to hold on to and you’re sitting here having dinner like nothing’s happened. If only we’d been there to protect-“
“We’ve talked about this enough son,” his mother added sharply. “This hasn’t been an easy thing for us to accept at all but she’s gone. Your father and I tried everything we could to get her back, but she wouldn’t listen. She made her decision and it cost her. Best thing to do now is to focus on what we can salvage. Eat your dinner Blake. It’s one of the few pleasantries we have left before everything is really shot to Hell.”
Blake looked on at his mother and father consuming their meals under the bright lights that did absolutely nothing to illuminate his dark mood. His blackened redfish coupled with his favorite cauliflower puree would not fare much better to lift his spirits either. Not on this day. The son simply looked on with utter disdain coupled with nausea as the parents consumed their meal without a care in the world. Joseph Devereaux took a moment to take it all in. Ingesting the splendor of the room as he sipped on a bracing glass of Macallan 25, the memories of ‘Old New Orleans’ seemed to march through his mind as vibrantly as a parade. Putting the glass down and slicing away at the flesh before him, he looked over to his son.
“New Orleans will be great again son, I promise. It’s like I said, you just have to have the gumption to bite into the heart of the problem.”
3 JAN 2013-16:20:17
“Juan’s or Felipe’s?” the driver asked.
He was a burly yet bookish figure of a man in his late 20’s. His long dreadlocks pulled back revealed quite a deceptive face; one that could show tremendous warmth and humor one minute followed by intense fury and vengeance the next. Barabbas Purify quickly dabbed at his chin, removing a slight crimson stain with a handkerchief. He groaned slightly at a few drops of
He took a massive bite into the cut of beef.
“Well it’s not surprising. See that’s what happens when you open up the White House to a-“
And with that, Delphine waved her hand, cutting him off. Joseph looked across the table to see the slightly distraught face of his son Blake. A strapping young man at the tender age of 23, his striking features and figure had become a rather chiseled copy of his father’s from earlier years. A political science major at Loyola University, he was already pegged to carry on the Devereaux legacy in every way. Famous throughout the upper social class circles of New Orleans, the young buck’s penchant for women and drink became well documented. The apple certainly didn’t fall far from the tree. Beneath the polished, chiseled exterior of the young lad’s face was a longing that brought a bit of melancholy to the moment.
“Joseph, I’ll not have that kind of talk right now,” Delphine commanded. “Not civilized conversation at the dinner table, especially in front of our son.”
“I’m just stating the obvious honey,” he fired back. “We’ve had these second rate protesters popping up all throughout the city, complaining about equal rights, affordable medica l care and the like, all the while taking a free ride on the backs of decent Americans like you and I. This situation has gotten so out of control that we’ve had to cordon off the savages in cages around the city…and even that’s beginning to become a problem! Talk about ‘the 99%’...my ass!”
“Can we give it a rest for one day please?” the young man commanded. “This city is out of control and most of my friends have either skipped town or died. Pretty soon there won’t be much of a city left to hold on to and you’re sitting here having dinner like nothing’s happened. If only we’d been there to protect-“
“We’ve talked about this enough son,” his mother added sharply. “This hasn’t been an easy thing for us to accept at all but she’s gone. Your father and I tried everything we could to get her back, but she wouldn’t listen. She made her decision and it cost her. Best thing to do now is to focus on what we can salvage. Eat your dinner Blake. It’s one of the few pleasantries we have left before everything is really shot to Hell.”
Blake looked on at his mother and father consuming their meals under the bright lights that did absolutely nothing to illuminate his dark mood. His blackened redfish coupled with his favorite cauliflower puree would not fare much better to lift his spirits either. Not on this day. The son simply looked on with utter disdain coupled with nausea as the parents consumed their meal without a care in the world. Joseph Devereaux took a moment to take it all in. Ingesting the splendor of the room as he sipped on a bracing glass of Macallan 25, the memories of ‘Old New Orleans’ seemed to march through his mind as vibrantly as a parade. Putting the glass down and slicing away at the flesh before him, he looked over to his son.
“New Orleans will be great again son, I promise. It’s like I said, you just have to have the gumption to bite into the heart of the problem.”
3 JAN 2013-16:20:17
“Juan’s or Felipe’s?” the driver asked.
He was a burly yet bookish figure of a man in his late 20’s. His long dreadlocks pulled back revealed quite a deceptive face; one that could show tremendous warmth and humor one minute followed by intense fury and vengeance the next. Barabbas Purify quickly dabbed at his chin, removing a slight crimson stain with a handkerchief. He groaned slightly at a few drops of
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