"As you can see, behind me is one of the greatest attractions of the zoo." Quinn knocked on the large piece of metal and machinery. "The vending machine."
He lay flat on the ground and looked under the machine.
"Aha!" He retrieved a few coins lost to the darkness under the machine. "As you can see, there is no need to bring your own coins."
He put the appropriate amount in the coin slot. "People of all ages come to the zoo just for this machine. Its popularity is second only to the toilets."
He pressed a button, and a can of coffee neatly rolled down.
"As you can see, this coffee isn’t hot. It’s perfect to put oneself back into the arms of clinical depression that you have only just escaped. Because why live a fruitful life when you can convince yourself into never leaving your bed?"
’It will only get more unhinged and less structured from here on.’ Averie exhaled a hot breath. ’The gradual change, will it be seen favourably? Will they accept it?’
On the TV, Quinn was standing in front of a men’s room.
"Remember, kids: never occupy the urinal directly next to your peers."
Winking at the camera, he entered the public washroom.
’Here begins the gradual change.’
The inside of the washroom looked unbelievably clean and shiny, even though it was supposed to be situated in a zoo.
Faucets were spotlessly golden, and lights were drunken bronze.
Min-Ha poured hot chocolate over her bowl of vanilla ice cream. "It’s ridiculous how you filmed this in a five-star hotel. Would anyone believe this is part of a zoo?"
"Well, it’s supposed to be unbelievable."
Quinn looked at his reflection in the mirror.
There was no music, no sound. No one else was using the facilities.
His breathing was slightly ragged, but the reflection showed only a perfectly composed man.
He blinked, and so did his reflection. Yet it felt disjointed.
His hand subconsciously patted around the washbasin. A powdery sensation grazed his skin, and the actor’s gaze turned downward.
A white powder was thinly spread on the grey granite countertop, bathed in golden light.
The picture flickered.
In a wide shot, Quinn was standing at the urinal, dead in the center of the arranged stalls.
’If they hadn’t filmed this from behind, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my laughter.’
The sound of running water obstructed the stream of urine.
Suddenly, Quinn stomped the floor with the ball of his foot.
The ceiling lights flashed.
A black-and-white image of the actor was shown making a line of white powder.
The flashback lasted for only a second.
And again, the lights flashed.
This time, he was rolling a note.
The stomps turned quicker, like the beat of a hip-hop song. The ceiling lights flashed with increased intensity.
The flashbacks turned shorter until the images looked like a flip-book animation.
In quick flashes, in a dramatic style not often used in documentaries, it told a story accompanied by music.
The stomps, the stream of water, the whistling, and the smacking turned into a lively song.
While Quinn muttered incoherently at the urinal, the flashback showed the actor chasing ecstasy in white powder.
He posed at the urinal, and he sniffed at the countertop.
’What a wild thing to witness,’ Averie thought. ’It’s like a fever dream.’
Such a narrative style was never used in Gene Conti’s time. Perhaps that’s why he had quickly become fond of it.
’The first episode may seem ridiculous and incoherent compared to the latter episodes, which have more at stake.’
Averie massaged his cold arms.
’But this shift in tone will bring about a sense of realism to The Quinn.’
He stared at his painted nails.
’It begins with dry comedy and ends with cinematic flair.’
Even the good man couldn’t tell whether that was for the better or for the worse.
The song turned gritty.
On the screen, shaking his shoulders with a mop in hand, Quinn was wiping the washroom floor with a dazed expression.
His neck jerked from side to side, and his waist followed along.
"I feel drunk," Min-Ha muttered.
None of the three was able to take their eyes off the ridiculous display on the screen.
Hyerin wanted to say a lot, but she was lost for words.
The sequence ended with a commercial break, which lasted for three minutes.
"So, that song is going to be the opening theme?" Hyerin mused.
"Yeah." Averie smiled. "It has a glorious name."
"Please, don’t tell me."
"My Cocaine in Your Urine, it’s called."
Long Live the Quinn returned with the song My Cocaine in Your Urine.
Quinn was with Madelyn.
"Is it good to keep these animals in such an environment?" he asked her, mic in hand. "Locked in and behind bars like criminals?"
The handler gave a practiced smile.
She explained how they took care of the animals, provided for them, and made sure they were well.
Now, Quinn was with an animal expert.
"We are with Zoologist Clara Ling."
He turned to her and asked the same question he had asked Madelyn.
"For some it’s fine," replied the expert. "But for intelligent animals, like elephants, it can be torture. You need to understand that these animals have incredible memory."
They were sitting in a well-furnished room of a university.
"They can remember water sources they saw decades ago and lead their pack from across the desert."
She shifted in her chair.
Her age seemed to make it difficult for her to talk as enthusiastically as she would prefer.
"They can communicate with other packs by sending frequencies from their trunk through the ground while their feet act as receivers. They can communicate in this manner over large distances."
She showed him some pictures of these incredible animals.
"This is how they can tell when a natural disaster is coming. The matriarch, who is the oldest animal in the pack, is the one responsible for the safety of her family. She helps them survive, whether it’s a drought or a flash flood."
She made it very clear that such animals should not be in captivity.
"They will lose their ability to socialize with their kind. We’re making them helplessly dependent on us."