My my, what terribly crafted falsehoods. Anybody in the world could see through such ridiculous lies.

PHONE CALL TRANSCRIPT (24 NOVEMBER 2023, 2:21 PM EST): Show

REVY: Speak your shit and make it quick, woman, you caught me in the middle of something.



BALALAIKA: Oh my, rare of you to be venomous right from the get-go. I didn’t interrupt you during any post-travel…tension relieving, did I?

REVY: Even if you did, how would it be your fucking business? Why, hoping I was fantasizing of that shriveled-up face of yours?

BALALAIKA: Flattered would be the smallest of my emotions if that were the case, but regardless, I’ll move towards the point. Just one small check-up, and I’ll let you on your way. On the topic of travel, I hope that you found the flight we provided to your comfort?

REVY: Sure, whatever, getting here was fine enough. Though now that I’m actually here, I’m not convinced I wasn’t slipped an acid in my complimentary marg. Seriously, hag, what’s the fucking deal with these freakshows?

BALALAIKA: Surely, Revy, you don’t mean to imply you’re a stranger to doing business around more unconventional types. Hardly any other profession could put you so up-close and personal to Romanian serial killing children, after all.

REVY: You know goddamn well not to play dumb with me, by now. This goes beyond that. These clowns who are also visiting this place? You can’t tell me they’re even human. Slime girls? Gremlins with massive hammers? A fucking goose? Just what kind of Narnia fantasy world did you trap me in, exactly?

BALALAIKA: Come now, Revy, everyone’s got to discard their prejudices eventually. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed it by now, but this little world of ours has gone through quite the makeover in these past few years. Who knows what happened to put all of it in motion, but you can hardly swing a dead cat anymore without hitting some bizarre character who looks like they just stepped out of one of those American Saturday morning cartoons. And just like those cartoons, no matter how different the setting looks, it’ll always be the same old formula. This will be just like any other job for you, my two-handed wonder child. It’s all just a matter of adjustment.

REVY: Oh, of course, that job of yours. Like that’s unfailable in all of its glory, either.

BALALAIKA: Hm…and what’s concerning you about this particular paycheck, pray tell?

REVY: I’m willing to let slide the fact that I was sent to this bureaucratic nerd factory without my crew. Sometimes they just slow me down, and that’s fine by me. But why the hell did you find it appropriate to have me of all people kill a single schmuck? Surely, you’ve got some Hotel guard dogs who’d be pleased as fucking punch to carry out your hits while actually being discrete about it?

BALALAIKA: This isn’t some political-upheaval “put up a bird’s nest in an abandoned building and snipe away” gig, Revy. This particular one requires some…intimacy. Getting to know the target, gaining their trust, and repaying it in kind by sending them to the mortuary. And for as much as my comrades mean the world to me, I do have to admit that none of them are quite as skilled as worming their way into people’s lives with sheer charisma as you are. For better or for worse.

REVY: I’m a real femme fatale to you, is that it? Gee, you’re making me fucking blush.

BALALAIKA: And besides, I’m quite shocked. I would have thought you would have been jumping at the chance to show off your talents without anyone holding you back?

REVY: I don’t fucking care if there’s no one holding me back, but I obviously do if it’s my entire surroundings. In case you weren’t aware, this isn’t Roanapur where I can rip off some prick’s ball sack with fishing wire and everyone would treat it as just another Tuesday. This is a research facility in a first-world country, not far-off from a well-populated area! Not exactly an environment well-suited for escaping from a murder scot-free all by myself! If I’m going to ventilate this fucker, who’s apparently so much of a threat to your broken vet polycule that you’re trusting *me* to handle it, you damn well better have a way for me to be miles away from this place before they even find the body! A getaway chopper, maybe!

BALALAIKA: Unfortunately, there will be no such thing.

REVY: WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?!

BALALAIKA: In the interest of not ruining the surprise, all I will say is that conditions will soon be set in place where you’ll realize that when you dispose of this person, there’ll be no need to make yourself scarce. As long as you put in the effort to not get caught, that is. In fact, even if everyone else sees the blood on your hands eventually, so long as it’s after the first 24 hours of your target’s death, there’ll be zilch they can do about it.

REVY: And just what is that supposed to me-

BALALAIKA: But really, Revy, this isn’t like you in the slightest. I thought it was ingrained in your head that there are two things my colleagues can do to disappoint me. One, they can prove themselves unable to adapt to any situation, too scared shitless to step out of the rivers and lakes that they’re used to and see how they can hold up with surviving in an entire ocean of new possibilities and potential outcomes; and two, instead of figuring it out for themselves, they come complaining to me about their objectives and expect me to coddle them and send in backup to the tune of a couple dozen of my own men for the sake of making their job a little less harder. I assumed you would have taken to heart what happens when my wishes are questioned after the Washimine Group incident, but it seems that’s once again made way for pure, instinctual stubbornness. I will not repeat myself: Stick. To. The mission.

REVY: You can shove this mission up your scar-covered taint, Balalaika! You wanna refuse to elaborate on who exactly these alien-looking weirdos are, or how exactly these “conditions” will work, if they even exist, be my fucking guest! But all this is is sending a hurricane to wipe out a goddamn orphan! Everything about this reeks of shit from ten miles away! I don’t care how long it takes, I’m calling my crew to pick me up!

BALALAIKA: I see. We’ve moved onto deserting now. Though I suppose I can’t physically force you from getting back to the Lagoon Company…especially when you’re being forced away from Rock so soon after getting closer to him, right?

REVY:....no.

BALALAIKA: I’m sure he’s just aching to see you, too. Of course, he’s praying that you don’t come back in a body bag, but on a more selfish level, he probably despises that he’ll be without his, pardon the pun, rock in this cruel, ever-volatile world our career path’s placed us in for who knows how long. That if you’re not around, his id will swallow him whole and turn him into just another psychopath. He’ll probably let his impatience get the better of him and would want to be with you on this little escapade, and I would be happy to oblige him….or, well, that’s what he would think.

REVY: You bitch.

BALALAIKA: All it would take is one call to summon him to my office and work out the transportation details, and with luck, send him flying to the Bureau just in time for your kill. But for how cutthroat he can be, you and I both know how lacking he is with self-preservation. If it’s you on the line, he wouldn’t even suspect anything was off-kilter until he's stepped out of his taxi and entered the room, just to see himself surrounded by my men on all sides.

REVY: You wouldn’t dare…..please stop…..please fucking sto-

BALALAIKA: We’ve both been in this business for ages, haven’t we? You’d have to be well-acquainted with it by now. How beautiful it is that a man could be standing in his prime one second-

REVY: nonononONONO

BALALAIKA: And turn into a pile of meat the next.

REVY: GODDAMN IT, SHUT UP!

BALALAIKA:...Do you need a second to compose yourself?

REVY:....No…..I’ll do it. I’ll do your fucking dirty work.

BALALAIKA: Thank you for being so understanding. Threats of this magnitude aren’t usually my style, but if nothing else, that should have given you a grasp of how much I can’t let this particular target walk the earth.

REVY: You….goddamn skank…..

BALALAIKA: But for all the good this would do for me, I promise you that it will be matched in full for you, if not more so. Depending on your efficiency, you would be looking at quite a generous reward….well, maybe that would be underselling it. Let’s just say that with what I have in mind for you, you and Rock might not have to do another job for as long as you live. No longer would you have to take the lives of others just for a shot at seeing the next day of yours. Wouldn’t that be swell?

REVY: Would it be enough money to shut you up for good?

BALALAIKA: Hmhmhm….who am I to say?

REVY: I’ve taken you for many things, but a dumbass wasn’t one of them. I’ll see this job through for you, all right, but you’d be a fool if you think I’ll retire to the fucking Florida Keys after I get that much money. All having that much cash in the bank would mean is that I’d be able to follow one final job for as long as I please: making your head my hood ornament.

BALALAIKA: Oh?

REVY: You’ve fucked up, Fry-Face. I was just content doing whatever you say without question until I kick the bucket, but you just had to go and rope Rock into this. One massive, impulsive decision, just because you couldn’t tuck away your hard-on for pointing at people you don’t like and asking for them to die. But now, you’ve really shown yourself. And I want you to know, deep down, that I hope you don’t get a wink of fucking sleep for the rest of your life, knowing that you and your precious Hotel Moscow will never be safe once I’m out of this Bureau.

BALALAIKA: Interesting…..and why are you revealing all of this to me?

REVY: Don’t tell me your mind’s not racing. The thought of the ultimate challenger for your life.

BALALAIKA: You’ve read me like a book…”They call me the seeker, I've been searching low and high. I won't get to get what I'm after, till the day I die.”

REVY: What, is that one of your Russian poets?

BALALAIKA: Try Pete Townshend. Don’t let me down anymore.