devil’s minion bot

I am lord and master of my own island, I am the Devil’s minion and he grants my every wish.

Come, lover, we’re going to the ballet tonight. I want to see Baryshnikov. And after that, down to the Village. You remember that jazz band I loved last summer, well, they’ve come back. Come on, I’m hungry, my beloved. We must go.

(DANIEL) He’s full of shit. (ARMAND) I’ve failed Louis once in my life. It wasn’t in San Francisco. (LOUIS) I’ll never ask you to do that– (ARMAND) The pages I tore out of Claudia’s diaries, we did most of those together. (LOUIS) Not all of them.

Armand virtually disappeared at dawn. Daniel was never to know where Armand actually slept. But then Daniel was dead on his feet by daybreak anyway. Daniel didn’t see high noon for five years.

Ah, that soft reasonable voice, that open and almost trusting boyish face, the auburn hair always slipping into the eye a bit carelessly, the body so suggestive of human serenity, of physical ease.

(ARMAND) “Will I get the fixes I need?” “Will I be somebody?” “Will I get the fixes I need to be somebody?” But, Daniel, you already know who you’ll be.

“But how do you do it!” Daniel had demanded, as he watched Armand making notes, writing directions for new acquisitions. “If you can read the minds of men, you can have anything that you want,” Armand had said patiently.

(ARMAND) This is too important a moment in our story for these games. (DANIEL) Oh, is there a game being played?

At sunset when Daniel awoke, his clothes had already been laid out for him. Heaven help him if he were to change a single item, from the linen handkerchief to the black silk socks.

(LOUIS) The lamb smiling up at the wolf with unsettling passivity.

“What is this, tears? You’re going to weep over me?” For one second, Armand looked so young. What a travesty.

They climbed aboard the bus together, ignoring the little coin box, and sank down side by side on the long leather bench sea

“Will you listen to me, then? Really listen? “How can I help it? I can’t get away from your voice when you want me to listen; it’s like a tiny microphone inside my head.”

(ARMAND) I’m the quiet you’ve been longing for. After all the garishness of life, the jostling, the clawing… (DANIEL) I like my life. (ARMAND) The dull thrum of desperation in you.

Supper awaited in the immense dining room with its windows open to the pool. Armand was already at his desk in the adjoining study. There was work to do: maps to consult, more wealth to be acquired.

“There is nothing I can do to make you want to live, isn’t that so?” “Not that again. I will jump out of the plane if you go on.”

Of course Daniel must have for colder climes mink-lined raincoats, and dinner jackets for Monte Carlo, and jeweled cuff links, and even a long black suede cloak, which Daniel with his “twentieth-century height” could carry off quite well.

(ARMAND) Rest. I’ve been calling to you for some time. From every bad fix. From the unnamed malaise you feel Sunday afternoons. And now, here I am, and you can rest. (DANIEL) I don’t want to rest.

And now they must be outfitted like princes for all occasions. Armand himself supervised the measurements for Daniel’s custom-made shirts, suits, shoes. He chose the fabrics for an endless parade of sports coats, pants, robes, silk foulards.