Consideration | BTL SRVC XXXI: One For Me and Two For the Dark Moon Circus

Ariana Papademetropoulos. “Origins” (2021). Oil on canvas. 84” x 120”. Photographed by Charles White. Courtesy of Ariana Papademetropoulos and Jeffrey Deitch Los Angeles.

OK, you good on the couch? There is a chair.

Couch is fine, traditional I think.

Good. So what should I call you? I know Peggy has all your insurance information…

I’m paying in cash.

Excuse me.

Cash. I didn’t fill out any paperwork.

Call me B.

OK, fine.

What should I call you?

P. No I’m kidding; Peter is fine. So B, what can I help you with?

Well P, I’m the CEO of a large conglomerate. We deal mostly, well, exclusively with spirits.

I see.

Some of the most exclusive liquor in the world. We own it.

Uh-huh.

You drink Scotch?

Occasionally.

Ever had Sailor Moon?

Can’t say that I have.

Heard of it?

Not that I can recall.

Exactly. We acquired a Highland distillery about fifteen years ago. While doing a survey of the place, we discovered a false wall in the aging room. Taking the wall down we found twenty casks of something in this hidden room. It was Scotch, excellent Scotch, and after we carbon dated the casks, they were determined to be from the early 18th century.

Wow.

Secretly we had twenty of the best master distillers in Scotland sample it, and they all agreed it was the finest they had ever tasted. We didn’t stop there. In the Zemplén forest in Hungary we felled enough oaks to make twenty new casks. The old wood was dead, and we wanted to bring this back to life in the 21st Century. Medium toast on the wood, plenty of toffee notes.

Sounds delightful.

Clove.

Excuse me?

Clove and vanilla as well, that was what it picked up. We have a small group, an exclusive group, a secretive group of connoisseurs who we sell to. Every six to eight months you get a four-ounce bottle from one of the casks. Purely subscription, twenty three hundred people on the waiting list.

Impressive.

Forty five thousand dollars.

A year? For eight ounces of Scotch?

Not always. Six to eight months, we send it when it is ready. So more like Six ounces a year. On average, mind you.  

Remember the name?

Sailor’s night or something like that?

Sailor Moon. Ring any bells?

Afraid not.

I see. Sailor Moon was my original guide and protector. She is the reason we bought that distillery, found the hidden casks and can now offer the world’s finest single malt to a select few.

Is that something you want to talk about?  

It is practically all I want to talk about. You see, I’m a Magical Girl.

Okay.

About thirty years ago I was an up-and-comer at another spirits company. Mistakes were made.  Transgressions were transgressed, that sort of thing. They didn’t want to fire me. Maybe I made them too much money, or maybe I had first-hand knowledge of other, um, inappropriate behavior. In my mind, they did the next best thing to getting rid of me; they sent me to Japan.  I didn’t know anything about the place; didn’t appreciate the culture, didn’t speak the language, didn’t drink Sake. That’s mostly what they were known for then, Sake and pretty basic beer.  Their whiskey culture was just getting going, and it was hard to see how they were going to get past Scotland, Kentucky, and a bunch of other brown liquor producers with two hundred year head starts.

I was adrift, and like any self-respecting American man, I started drinking hard. The Japanese were professionals at this. Wander into any little back alley spot in Tokyo, and there are half a dozen guys in grey suits getting absolutely hammered. I became a feature at a few places, got to know the regulars, and believe me when I tell you those men can put you under the table with one arm tied behind their back. I mean they did Saturday-level drinking on a Tuesday.

Anyway I was fitting in nicely, developing my Sake palate. If, by the way, you want to get into Sake, 100 Poems for 100 Poets is a Junmai Ginjo I cannot recommend highly enough. Exquisitely produced by Nabedana brewery. They’ve been brewing since the 17th century; think about that. Nineteen fucking generations of Sake masters.  

Uh-huh.

So one of the young regulars, Masa, was what you now would call an Otaku. Manga, anime, light novels, little plastic figures, he was completely into it all. My conversational Japanese was pretty good by now, but reading Kanji is another story. This fella gives me some Sailor Moon manga, that’s comic books if you didn’t know, and helps me learn to translate them. I have to tell you I was never a comic book guy, but there was something special about these little treasures.  So this middle school girl Usagi meets a talking cat, and they become friends. He gives her a pin that transforms her into the magical girl Sailor Moon, and she and her friends battle the Dark Kingdom squad of baddies. There was something that immediately grabbed me. I went to Oberlin, I met Nabakov for chrissakes, but this, this manga spoke to me unlike anything I’d encountered before.

So I’m in bed one night, reading chapter two, slowly but surely translating one Kanji at a time when I realize that something is off. Am I asleep and dreaming? Unsure, but suddenly Luna, the talking cat from the story jumps up on my bed. She tells me that I am one of the chosen Princesses, and she is there to help awaken my abilities. The next morning I wake up, and while I’m watching the morning news, I realize I can read all the scrolling text perfectly. That’s when I remember my encounter with Luna and realize she has given me my first superpower.

And how did that make you feel?

Make me feel? It made me feel fucking fantastic, like I could conquer the universe. I spent the day putting together a deal for this new Japanese Scotch, and while I can’t tell you the name because of an NDA, I can tell you it has been one of the top five exported brands for almost 25 years, so there you go. The deal makes my company millions, but all I want to do is get to the bar and tell my friend Masa what had happened. Now here’s the weird thing.

Now?

Don’t get snippy P; I arrive at my local bar like a kid on Christmas morning and something very strange is going on. First off, nobody seemed happy to see me, they knew who I was, but the usual cheering and toasting were absent. When I ordered my usual Jiro, the barman asked me what it was. I mean I’ve drunk at least a bottle of 100 Poems every night for the last year, and suddenly he doesn’t remember. Secondly no one was at all impressed by my sudden knowledge of the Japanese written language, they wouldn’t acknowledge that the night before I was effectively illiterate; but all of that pales compared to the real mystery. When I asked if they had seen Masa around, all I got was a sea of blank faces. No one knew who I was talking about. The lights dimmed, the music got ominous and you know what I realized?

I’m all ears.

They were part of Dark Kingdom, working for evil Queen Beryl to capture the Silver Crystal and destroy Sailor Moon. I ran out of there and called Masa only to find his phone was no longer working. Now I knew I was in trouble. I couldn’t go back home, they were probably waiting for me there. My phone rang, it was my boss’s number, but I could be 100% sure it was him on the line. He told me I was fired and that my visa had been revoked, leaving me 48 hours to leave Japan. It began to rain. In an all-night movie house I sipped scotch, Shibui, not our brand, but a damn fine dram. Noticing the Kurosawa marathon had morphed into early 60’s Astro Boy cartoons, I turned and Luna was in the seat next to mine. ‘You are in great danger,’ she told me. ‘Your task is to assemble a team and defeat the Dark Moon Circus back in your home country.  Take this,’ she pushed a blue crystal into my hand, ‘it will give you the powers you need to succeed.’ Kurosawa was back on the screen, Luna was gone, and I followed suit, jumping in a cab and heading directly to the airport.  

It took many years to hone my skills and assemble a team, but my Magical Girl power has always aided me. Remember Bubble Gum Rum?

No.

That was mine, best selling spirit of the early 2000’s. It has been, dare I say it, a magical climb, and now I sit atop the industry finally ready to strike a blow for justice.

What are you doing here B?

Pardon?

Why exactly are you here? Do you have a problem you want help with?

Oh, that. The thing is, there are grumblings inside the company. Some want me moved aside, pushed out, kicked to the curb, as it were, so I thought getting a professional in my corner would be a good first step in mounting a defense.

And you think I am going to be the person in your corner?

Why not? I’ve told you my story and you accepted it.

Hang on a second; I never said anything about accepting it.

Are you saying you don’t believe me? Was it the Scotch, I could arrange to send you a couple of ounces. Or Bubble Gum rum? I have one of the old TV ads on my phone.

It isn’t the Scotch and it isn’t the Rum, although that sounds disgusting. Look, B you are a grown man who tells me after meeting with a talking cat has somehow turned into a Magical Girl. You understand how far fetched that sounds.

Ah, ok, I get it. You don’t believe me. Maybe I haven’t been entirely honest with you P.

OK, good.

I didn’t come here to recruit you as a possible witness in a possible lawsuit against my company. I came here to recruit you as a Magical Girl. You are Sailor Shrinkie, I am Sailor Drinky and I need your help to take down the Dark Moon Circus.

That’s it. B, I think you need my help a lot more than you realize. I’m going to ask you to check into a private facility where I can give you round the clock care while we address your issues.

B isn’t listening. He produces a blue crystal from his suit pocket and rubs it in his hands. Surrounded by a glittering glow, he floats to the ceiling, a giant wand appearing in his hand.  ‘Join me Princess’. The wand shoots out a stream of radiant stars, which surround the psychiatrist and float him up to his former patient. B takes his hand and they fly out the open window and streak across the late afternoon sky. P takes out his cell phone and punches in a number.

Agnes, cancel the rest of my appointments for the day.