Chapter 8: BAFTA

From the Memoir notes of General Awn, dated 08/09/2011:

“I am convinced that our mishandling of the Patient Zero situation stemmed not from any underlying misunderstanding about her nature, whatever anthropological reasons Dr. Hefmire may like to ascribe to the debacle. Rather, it was simply a case of, in my opinion, a failure of my team to prepare properly or share information on a wide enough scale. If the government ever admits to the existence of my organisation, and if this memoir ever therefore sees publication, I will have to take responsibility for my actions. Until then, I have a job to do...”

***

‘The Woman Who Ate the World’ was a success unparalleled in Sashman’s career thus far. Somewhere between horror flick, disaster movie and tongue-in-cheek satire, it drew reasonably positive reviews from critics, but, despite this only moderately positive reception from those who had made cinema their profession, it’s real triumph was measured at the box-office, drawing the public in numbers that might be more readily associated with a film made on ten times its budget. Beach was revelling in it.

At present, she was filling up more than her share of seats at the BAFTAs, that celebration of British acting and cinematographic talent. After she passed the 1000lb several days before, it had become impractical to attempt to keep track of her weight, but the facts that she sat across ten seats- not including the additional four her love-handles had rolled out to engulf- that her gut pressed heavily against the row of seats in front of her and that it had taken her less than ten minutes to clear out the food laid on for the event spoke for themselves.

“...And the winning nominee in the ‘Best Lead Actress in an Independent film goes to... Beach, for ‘The Woman Who Ate the World’!” the announcer confirmed, gesturing her to come up and claim her prize and applause. Beach rose, the immensity of her body causing more trouble by far for those around her than for herself. She poured herself out into the aisle and from there, made her way over to the stage, the sides of her belly and thighs brushing against the rows of chairs on either side of her. She mounted the stage, putting the sturdy structure under incredible, groaning pressure. Leaning in the mic provided, she gave her acceptance speech:

“As you can probably see, there was a lot of me in the role!” she gave her disarming laugh, letting the light joke put the audience of competitors and fans at their ease. “Seriously, though, almost all the weightgain scenes of the film are in just me, no CGI- in fact, I think that only kicked in when Sashman decided his destructive lead role would have to crush an entire city or two before she could be taken down by the good guys. That said, I still couldn’t have done this without the cast and crew... especially Sashman himself who, aside from giving me an excuse to indulge myself more than I ever would have had the opportunity to otherwise, also just handed me this stunning chance to be in cinema. I was just a dazed, directionless hitchhiker when we met so... well, here’s to Sashman.” She raised an imaginery wine glass, bowed as low as she could without her body overbalancing her and causing her to crash to the ground and made to dismount the stage. Her movement, however, was too sudden and, unable to cope with her incredible mass under such circumstances, the stage gave way, leaving the her sprawling amid the wreckage, laughing at her own clumsiness.

***

“Why,” Awn barked at his recruits “have I only just found out about this Beach woman from watching the BAFTAs on TV? Did nobody look into her while searching for Patient Zero?”

A rather embarrassed looking recruit stood and saluted. “That would be me, Sir!”

“Well- why wasn’t I informed of this woman?”

“Because you said not to investigate anyone who had been around for years?” The soldier suggested, with some doubt. “And when I knocked on her director’s door, he said that everyone knew her?”

“For crying out loud man! Sashman’s notoriously camp, even among other film directors! The man probably uses phrases like that all the bloody time! Did he actually say everyone had known her FOR YEARS?”

“No, Sir,” said the soldier.

“Right. She’s the most extreme case of this virus I’ve ever seen. I’d say there’s at least a seventy per cent likelihood of her being Patient Zero. I want her picked up as soon as possible! Make it happen!”

With this briefing concluded and a hive of activity set into industrious motion around him, Awn retreated to his office, then immediately got on the intercom and told a corporal who had been instructed to act as his secretary to send Hefmire in.

“You wanted to speak to me?” Hefmire asked, striding in.

“Hefmire, why didn’t you warn me this Patient Zero would have such an effect on those around her? She’s famous! How am I supposed to make a bloody famous woman disappear?”

“Calm down, General!” Hefmire advised. “I didn’t warn you because there was no way I could have known that this would happen. As for making her disappear- that can probably be arranged quite easily, can’t it? After all, just because her vanishing would cause a stir, doesn’t mean it has to be traced back to you, does it?”

“Explain yourself, Hefmire, and make it good,” Awn sighed wearily.

“General, you have the power to recruit and pay off anyone you so chose, no questions asked. Surely you could stretch the definition a bit and employ someone from the... illegitimate private sector to take responsibility for her vanishing?”

“No-one would do it... not for all the money I could offer them when they got out of prison... but they might frame someone else...” Awn said thoughtfully.

“Well, pick an organisation you don’t like and have someone arrange for them to take the wrap when we take Beach, then.”

“Thank you Hefmire. I think I’ll drop some other branch of the secret service in it. Maybe MI5- they always struck me as a bit smug.”Awn nodded, then got on the intercom again and began issuing new orders about making Beach’s disappearance seem like something it wasn’t.

***

Beach herself, meanwhile, was reclining in the plush hotel room she and Sashman had rented out for the BAFTAs and was in fact, filling most it.

“Enjoying the fame?” Sashman asked, uncorking a bottle of wine and pouring them each out a glass.

“Oh yes...” Beach tilted her head back, drinking in the wine.

“It feels good, then? The money, the admiration?”

“It feels... well, I can’t get enough of it! I want more, so much more of it!”

“Fantastic, sweetie,” Sashman kissed her. “Because I’d love to do more work with you.”

“What role did you have in mind?”

“I’m not sure- but I think the world must be ready for a plus-size female hero by now! The public love you after all!”

“Plus size? I’d have to gain a few pounds, then?” Beach gave that delicious laugh of hers again allowed Sashman to refill her wine-glass.