“So, gene-team, what’ve you all decided,” asked Justin, as he sat down at the table.
“Well, sir,” said Jordan, “We seem to be in a bit of a coo-numb-drum. Which is to say, Stephanie here is numb to the drumbeat of Operation Do-Dig.”
“More like Operation Doo-Doo,” replied Stephanie, sipping her vodka. “I’m not interested in this shit.”
“So, that’s one for,” Justin nodded towards Jordan, “and one against. Nash?”
Nash sighed. “I dunno. I’m kind of ready to depart this little adventure. Spying is one thing – that’s just a version of Wikileaks, or Alexa – but breaking and entry, not so much my thing.”
“One for, one against, and one on the fence,” said Justin. “Yet again, it’s up to me, as my alter-ego, Gasia, to determine humanity’s fate!”
“Gay-she-a? What’s that, a genetically altered edible flower?” asked Jordan.
“A groin ointment?” quipped Nash.
“A lesbian with a stutter,” said Stephanie.
Justin hairy-eyed the trio, then turned to Nash. “You know Gasia isn’t a groin ointment. Though, Gasia isn’t opposed to applying any necessary ointments or unguents to that area,” he leaned towards Jordan and fluttered his eyelashes, “Just let me know when. Anyways, Gasia’s decision is that we do it! In the name of Henrietta Lacks, and all the oppressed, ripped-off, forgotten, exploited people! Except, of course, white working class men, who deserve it! Void where prohibited!” He gulped down the last of his beer. “To the apartment, where we shall gather the necessary costumes, uh, supplies!”
“What? No! I’m not on board with this thing,” said Stephanie.
“This train is leaving, with you or without you,” said Justin, glancing towards Pete’s back, as he exited the bar. He stood up and pumped his fist. “Choo-Choo!”
“Wait, wait, wait!” said Stephanie. “Sit down! Let’s talk this thing through.”
“Come on, Steph; I mean you, not Curry,” said Jordan. “We’ve gone over this a billion times. Which, by the way, is my intended net worth in,” he glanced at his Apple watch, “16 months and change. We break into the garden store, we dig around and find the bones, which contain the genetic material, which will save mankind from,” he looked up at Justin, “what did we decide? Premature balding? Dry skin? Loose vagina syndrome?”
“Yes!” said Justin, “Follow me!”
“There are so many reasons not to do this,” protested Stephanie. “Not least of which is randomly digging up old bones with no excavation plan or controls could contaminant the site in unforeseen and destructive ways.”
“Well, I already got a boner, and it’s big enough to dig with. Let’s go,” replied Justin, who spun around and strode towards the exit, closely followed by Jordan.
Stephanie looked at Nash, who shrugged his shoulders, sipped his beer, and nodded towards the door. She took a long draw on her vodka. Then, both of them got up and followed Justin and Jordan out the door.
Each month the View publishes a chapter from Gold, a serialized tale of politics, capitalism, and corruption in San Francisco. Previous chapters can be found on the paper’s website, www.potreroview.net. Advertisers or supporters interested in sponsoring future installations, or publishing the final manuscript, should contact firstname.lastname@example.org.