viernes, 22 de abril de 2016

PROJECT MAYHEM REJECTED FILES II: Singing Birds Of The Ultimate Suffocation

  Peak season arrived to Ibiza Island, famous to be the place where money can get you whatever you wish. And with it, all the tourists who thought nothing changed here, and everything is still about parties, beaches and bitches. And we gave them a big surprise.
  At the ‘Sea Beach Club’ a highly overpriced bar at the shore which can be only reached by boat, big parties with Arabian sheiks, top models, soccer stars and big business men happen along the summer season all the time. But this time is going to be different. The party is going to be enjoyed by the ones who used to be at the bottom: the service workers, the no ones, us, the space monkeys.
  First, let me tell you about the attendants of the day of the ultimate suffocation. Among others I will tell you about Abdullah, who last year bought a 3000 bucks champagne bottle, shook it, and poured all the content over the beautiful dancer of the bar, just for fun. I will tell you about Leo Renaldo, a soccer star considered a kind of human god by a lot of people who still think they are their fucking khakis. He used to get high on cocaine and alcohol, and have fun dropping bills to the floor so he could laugh at the humiliated waiter who got to his knees for those useless papers. Humiliating the staff used to be his favorite hobby. Then Doris Hilton, international top model who used to throw the glasses against the waiter if she considered that her gin tonic had too much gin, or not enough lemon. They are a kind of money built gods who are worshiped by many people, whose icons are not in churches, but on television, which is more popular and convincing nowadays. Those three are just a small example of the kind of arrogance and disrespect shown by the customers of the ‘Sea Beach Club’, and the staff used to accept for money. All those three individuals, among others, showed up the day of the ultimate suffocation.
  All the staff one day agreed to don’t work once the bar was opened. The arrogant rich clients were shocked to see that there was only one thing on the menu: Rize or die. When Abdullah asked for his champagne bottle, the dancer who was humiliated herself brought it, shook it and shot all the expensive liquid over the sheik. The soccer star started to cry when no one accepted to serve him, tried offering big tips, but his money was not valuable for us anymore. The scared top model, Doris, ran in to the boat and tried bribing the captain of the boat to bring her out of the island, but the captain showed his hand, and there was a lips shaped burn signal there. He was one of us, the Singing Birds Of The Ultimate Suffocation. At this point, and for first time in their lives, the gods fell to the ground, then they realized that they are nothing more than us but with money. So now we don’t want their money, we are over them, and the fallen gods asked us what we want to let them go out, what if isn’t money? Money, money money. Everything is about money for them, so boring. Then I said:
-          We want a fight
-          A fight? – Asked Leo Renaldo incredulous
-          Yes, a fight – I confirmed
-          So, if we win, you will allow us to go away, won’t you?
-          Win? Is not about winning or losing, that doesn’t matter, in a fight we all win, and the rules are the following. The first rule of fight club is…

And you all know how it continues. The fights were awesome, intense. The ungodded TV gods and the waiters fighting each other, showing that we are all the same, that we all bleed. Sometimes we won, sometimes we lose, but it didn’t matter. At the end of the day we let them leave, and they were gone with the feeling that they are no more than anybody else. May any of them join the project mayhem? Only time will say. 

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