La Banderuola Codarda

Faux Tiki for Stratum LII: Hana piasu no baka

“Third Flight”

Racconti dei primi passi nei cieli

DATELINE: Aboard Eastern WhisperJet, Stratum IV

Malinconico and Scarlatti, in suit and tie, exited the Mesosphere Club for the airport gate. It had only been a few years since the Vertol Waiting Room incident nearby but the Hog Island terminal here had grown considerably since.
  The pair crossed the jet bridge into the L-1011 and found their seating.
  Malinconico studied the details of the immediate environment.
  The nylon coach seat covers in mercury blue psychotropic patterns... The cool freon-fresh air blowing silently from the jet nozzles overhead... The pneumatic headset piping in Mancini muzak as the turbofan engines went through their run-up... Scarlatti blowing his compote crepe brekkie into a sick sack...

After touchdown and full-stop, Courier One took Malinconico and a recovering Scarlatti for a tour of the flight deck. The mass array of lights, levers, indicators, and gauges was mesmerising. A true delizia per gliocchi, but perhaps the seeds of crisis scenarios were planted then for consideration anon.
  Impressed, Malinconico deboarded the plane.
  A gate agent noticed the young man’s elevated mood.
  “You look like you’re glad knowing where you’re going.”
  “In realtà no,” Malinconico quipped. “Bene volare praestat quam nimium cito pervenire.”

“Second Flight”

Racconti dei primi passi nei cieli

The Paolinelli compleanno brought Malinconico to the streets of Cambridge with high anticipation. He and Master Shute were greeted by young Giacomino, the festeggiato of the day.
  Cut to: The local airfield, where the senior Paolinelli follows the trio excitedly climbing into the Cessna 152.
  Giacomino’s father had Malinconico ride shotgun, puzzling the young man as he stared at the dual flight controls and the horizon beyond.
  As they cruised through the open skies Malinconico thought, “I am not the honoree, yet I am in the prime seat. Paolinelli senior and junior must see this view all the time. How generous for them to share the sights with their amici intimi...”

Animguase mfata adesamma ba

DATELINE: Academie Cloches, Stratum I

“Ahem!”
  The sharp throat-clearing at the front of the classroom alerted Masters Capone and Stoddard to return to their desks.
  Preceptor Schrack began:
  “Children, you are about to enter the most fascinating sphere of pedagogical work — the inculcation of self-loathing via condescending wonder by romanticising the Other in their noble savagery.”
  Capone and Stoddard blinked at each other.
  Schrack continued:
  “I hereby enumerate a litany of lofty tropes to edify malleable pupils in the innate primacy of utopian poverty, Kente Cringe, and other acts of performative empathy...”
  And of course, she did, and probably felt good about it.
  But such lectures that are one-sided and unopen to critical thinking aren’t known to work on adults, let alone schoolchildren.

After a time, the students were back with their noses in their schoolbooks.
  “Psst, Stoddard — c’mere!” Master Capone stood attentively by the classroom’s large globe.
  Stoddard came over to see him furtively pointing somewhere at the northern part of Africa.
  “They named a country after a sweary!”

Ricordi persi tra i sobborghi

• Piazza Mercato, home of Creamy’s rival Barone Biskin and Trulet’s Music Shoppe...
• The Putt-Putt sala giochi, a clinic for honing future hand-eye coordination challenges...
• The quaint faux village of Passeggiata dei Mercanti, featuring the Ochiltree, Libreria di Hale, the Cashin Polo Bar and clock tower...
• The brief but close encounters with Robuster’s...
• The continual rotation of local dives between pizza joint mode and watering hole mode...

Haruspex Hodiernus