| Beitrag |
What the hell was going on in the Musée D'Orsay in Paris?
In the hall with the paintin of "Olympia" by Manet, the surrounding space was fenced off and a crew of very self-important looking police-men where roaming around, taking finger prints and seemingly searching for a piece of circumstantial evidence. But the painting was still at its place! Nothing seemed to be stolen, was it? The museum director, Mr. Besson was leaving his room, nervously lighting a cigarette outside the museum entrance and talking with a stranger, maybe the police head officer, or even someone from the French Secret Service! ..."Il n'y a aucun occasion"... "nothing like that ever before happened!" He started talking excitedly. "Someone must have changed Olympia's posing in the painting! She is lying down in a different way, but there are no signs of anyone painting her differently, which would have destroyed the whole art object of Manet! Look, she is slightly bending her leg more to one side, and her expression in the face seems to be more... well..." he blushed and continued: "full of sexual satisfaction!" He cleared his throat and brushed with his hand through his hair. "Never heard of anything like that before. Art objects happen to be stolen, normally... could anyone knowledgable in the art of restauration have done that? There are no hints of newly used colour as it is! And there is a slight damage of about half centimeter in lenght at the left corner - and the analysis yesterday, has there yet been a result?"
Now the police chief, or secret service he might be, blushed and quickly covered an upcoming erection under his trouser with todays newspaper: "Well, we wanted to be sure, so we checked five times. There are traces of human sperm that caused that damage..." he couldn't finish as the museum director yelled: "No!!! Scandalous!!!" then quickly clapsing his hands against his open mouth in pain. In his fantasy he now saw Olympia being f...ed and it was his turn to cover his growing c...k with todays newspapaper which he almost burnt with his cigarette.
The secret affairs man, which he was, seriously shaked his head: "We will cast this perverse criminal! Whatever his motivation may be, maybe he is even a psychopath, he is dangerous, damaging valuable art objects, and will not move around freely for long! We will give the case into the hands of our best agents, Mademoiselle Oiseau. She has caught all sex criminals she ever chased with her very delicate methods. She is a dangerous woman!"
At that very moment, switching to Japan, Mmselle Oiseau just left "The New Otani", one of the best hotels in Tokyo city, passing by the wide luxurious halls of the lobby. She was wearing a beautiful white Chanel business costume, looking very sexy and innocent like an angel at the same time, one of her many varieties. She was showing off her long, straight legs under the short skirt of the costume, her feet in a pair of divine high-heels.
Noone would suspect her having just killed. There was a dead body in 1026, executive floor. She was an agent, and a killer of the French Secret Service. The man in room number 1026 was her last victim. Lying on the bed covered with a white bedsheet. He looked as if having strangulated himself in an autoerotic masochist action. And maybe she even got him to do that to himself. She never left any circumstantial evidence. She had been hunting him for the last half year, a highly political affair with a sex crime involved. And she has had her fun with him and others that last half year before killing him. She was satisfied, but only shortly. Whom would she hunt now? What would be her next challenge? Which sex adventures in foreign countries would she meet on her way (she always seeked for fun and business at the same time). Just then, her mobile rang. She picked up and answered with her code name: "Vera at the phone!"
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