By Ingvar: Trigger arrived back at his combined Sheriff’s Office and home, after a productive day of patrolling Fort Corallium. All the citizens seemed happy, and he was looking forward to a nice, relaxing evening in the company of his beloved wife, Coraline.
He opened the door, hung the belt with his twin laser revolvers on its assigned hook and locked the door behind him.
“Coraline, I am home!”, he shouted, then proceeded to climb the stairs from the office space to his domicile. Once unencumbered by his street clothes, Trigger leaned back in his comfy chair and relaxed.
Not even fifteen minutes later, his reveries were disturbed by Coraline’s agitated voice.
“Trigger! Trigger! You won’t believe it!”
“You know Futuristo Magazine? There’s just been an article published about one of their side businesses!”
“From the sound of it, nothing good?”
“No, I am wondering what they’re going to do about it?”
“About what, beloved?”
“So, Futuristo Magazine have this, well, salon. It is called Bistro Futuristo. And apparently, Sulphurists have been putting emetics in the buffet. And until just recently, it had just never been spoken about. I mean, imagine it, you go to a poetry and literature salon, and the next thing you know, you’re spilling your figurative guts over everything.”
“I’m sure we will see a sensible response from the editors and owners of Futuristo.”
“I so hope that is true, Trigger.”
# # #
A few days later, down at the Coffee Emporium, Trigger was having breakfast. A nice cup of Bean of the Day and a grilled synthecheese. As he finished the last bite of the synthecheese, Barbara Dimatis walked up to his table.
“Sheriff Snowflake, may I sit?”
“Why, sure, Ms Dimatis. What troubles you?”
“You’ve heard of Bistro Futuristo? Well, turns out that the editor and owner of Futuristo Magazine has made an announcement.”
“From what my beloved Coraline said, I hope it was a sensible and well-reasoned announcement?”
“Not so much. Actually, it may be easier if you just read it yourself.”
> It has been brought to our attention by some helpful folks, that emetics that not everyone want to ingest have been present in Bistro Futuristo. In order to fully investigate these serious allegations, and the Bistro’s ‘no forcey’ rules, we will be closing the Bistro from Wednesday at noon, and all patrons will have to take their lawful acts of appreciation elsewhere.
“Now that,” said Trigger, “is not the response I would have expected.”
“Well, ven Sveller, the owner and editor of Futuristo Magazine, have shown Sulphur sentiments in the past, but, the way I read this is that there’s basically no way he didn’t know.”
# # #
A long and tiring day of patrolling the neighborhood later, Trigger arrived home.
“Trigger, darling, have you heard?”
“The ven Sveller apolonot? Yes, Ms Dimatis showed me at the Emporium this morning.”
“No. Well, related, but not that. Here, read this!”
An outrage of cancel culture run amok! by Whalie Correadore
As a poet and contributor to Futuristo Magazine, it has been my custom to visit the Bistro, to bask in the presence and splendour that is the collective intelligence and with of the Bistrovians, as we jokingly call ourselves.
I have been an active Bistrovian for 23 years, and I have never had a problem of being slipped emetics. But, I normally stick to the coffee and the Danishes. I mean, people who go for the candy get what they deserve, right?”
Trigger blinked. Was this the beginning of a brewing storm?
None of the sections I curated and collected recipes for ever had a problem. Therefore, this report of inserted emetics is pure hogwash, constructed by the rabidly anti-Sulphur literati. Not, mind you, that I am a Sulphurian myself, but I know several of them.
Trigger shook his head. This was obviously not heading anywhere good.
“Oh, darling, here’s another LoC that you should read.”
Cancelists by Carl Sparkrock
I have been a Futuristo contributor for 30 years. I am probably the most anti-Sulphur Futuristo contributor there is. And I condemn everyone for these false emetics allegations. Why, I used to be a regular in the Bistro, and there was never anything like that going on then.
Sure, I have been on a different planet for 15 years, but I am sure that nothing would ever change in the Bistro, as it is so lovingly curated and managed by not only James, but by several community curators. They ensure that fresh fare is brought forth and every bowl, carafe and pump thermos is kept in good order.
They’re a good bunch, the Bistrovians, I am sure they would never do anything like that.
Trigger simply shook his head. This whole story was becoming more and more unbelievable, for every single report that came out of the Bistrovian camp.
# # #
Later that evening, Trigger found further letters of comment, touching on the matter of the Bistro Futuristo.
My thoughts, by Anna min Scotch
There have been overblown reports of emetics all over everything in the Bistro. As a regular Bistrovian, I can say that this is blatantly false. I have a strict “no emetics” policy for the salad bar. Over in the dessert section, I guess there’s some emetics in among the Cleveries. It’s a known thing and it’s not as if everyone doesn’t already know to stay away from the candy section in general and the Cleveries in particular.
No, this is clearly overblown and there is no emetics problem at the Bistro. I am outraged that James has been forced by these anti-Sulphurians to need to shut the Bistro down. It is a valuable resource for us who publish with and contribute to Futuristo Magazine. They should be ashamed for closing the Bistro down.
This Bistro Futuristo thing. Leanne Ackie
I have occasionally visited Bistro Futuristo. Mostly, I would say, it is a nice, clean, and food-safe environment. But, there are sections that are definitely not.
I am not going to name names, because I do not know them. But, having taken samples from various parts of the Bistro’s buffet of comestibles, I can definitely say that in my sample, one out of roughly every five purple Cleveries candy was absolutely coated in emetics. I also found a single chocolate truffle that had emetics on the inside.
Based on this, I think these self-congratulating reports about “no problem at all” are interesting and show, possibly, a tendency to defend the Bistro while either intentionally obscuring what they know (or should know) or (as some did) simply not knowing, on account of not having visited the Bistro for well over a decade.
Make of this what you want. There was a problem, and either James ven Sveller knew and let it continue. Or, probably worse, ven Sveller didn’t know what was being done in the name of his magazine. Either way, a temporary close-down to ensure that there are no stray emetics, as well as making a strong statement that it is not acceptable going forward, is necessary.
# # #
The next morning, Trigger woke up to Coraline pacing in the bedroom.
“Beloved, what is the matter?”
“Well, it seems that there have been threats against the person who first reported the Bistro Futuristo problem.”
“But? What? Why? That makes no sense. At best, it accomplishes nothing, at worst it puts the Bistrovians in an extremely bad light?”
“Honestly, dear Trigger, I don’t understand it and I am not sure I want to.”
“Threats for what reason?”
“Apparently for not having engaged with ven Sveller before publishing the report. Or possibly for having brought it to light. Something like that.”
“Metaphorically putting my Sheriff’s Hat on, I don’t see why that would have been necessary. We can safely assume that ven Sveller has been aware of what’s going on. I mean, it’s not as if the other Bistrovians weren’t aware, they just chose to declare it ‘not a problem’. And as the proprietor, ven Sveller is fundamentally responsible for the quality of food served in his establishment, even if he has volunteer curators assisting with quality assurance. Also note that, if I understand correctly, the person dosing the Cleveries with emetics was a volunteer curator, pointing towards failures in judgment by ven Sveller. Now, I will go to the kitchen and make us a nice, nostalgic, breakfast of beans on toast.”