White Niggers
Chapter 6
Friday, August 2nd, 2019, 16:00
Karl-Gunsam-Gasse 1, 11th district of Vienna
Superstrizzi is nowhere to see. Marik is sitting in his lounge chair with a glass of champagne, watching Musikantenstadl on TV and nodding his head to the sounds of accordion and yodeling.
When Riml-Löhr comes to his lounge chair, Marik notices him and smiles at him. Riml-Löhr is glad he doesn't ask him about his successes in bed. Instead, he takes the bottle and moves it towards Riml-Löhr.
"Thanks, I think I got enough," Riml-Löhr says. "Need to get some clarity."
"Always a good idea," Marik says.
"Regarding that idea of yours, about the big government agency–" Riml-Löhr says.
"Yes?" Marik says.
"Are you serious about it?" Riml-Löhr says.
"Not only am I serious, but several powerful men are, too," Marik says. "Are you in?"
"Yes," Riml-Löhr says.
"Excellent!" Marik says.
Superstrizzi goes out of the building and is talking to Iveta.
"We need to order that special pizza," Marik says to Superstrizzi. "We got something to celebrate."
"Sure," Superstrizzi says.
He takes out his mobile phone and starts dialling.
"Do you know what 'Il Mercato' means in Italian?" Superstrizzi says.
"The market," Riml-Löhr says. "Why?"
"It's funny," Superstrizzi says. "The pizzeria is called 'Il Mercato', the market, but it's quite far away from the actual market."
Superstrizzi smiles.
"Wait a minute! Why do we need to order any pizza?" Riml-Löhr says. "There is plenty of food right here."
He turns to the barbecue grill behind which the cook is working.
"Steaks, vegetables, grilled sausages," Riml-Löhr says.
"That 'Il Mercato' joint has a wood-fired oven," the cook says to Riml-Löhr. "That's only one of the reasons they make the best pizza in town."
"See?" Superstrizzi says.
"Still, I find it a little wasteful," Riml-Löhr says.
"Look, minutes ago you were having fun with Eastern-European women, Superstrizzi says. "Even though there are women in Austria as well. But when we want to have some fun, we use imported broads, right?"
"Exactly! Sometimes, in order to save our society, we need to rely on foreign terro… rebels," Marik says. "Just like with pizza!"
He winks to Riml-Löhr. Marik bites his tongue. Doesn't trust Superstrizzi, Riml-Löhr thinks. Trust is good, self-control better.
"Alright, if you think so…" Riml-Löhr says.
He disappears into the building.
"The big guy is going to be very happy about your decision," Marik says to Riml-Löhr.