Popular Culture | Django Durango

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: You Only Forget Twice

“These just came from Haworth Labs. Apparently Miss Boyle has had another conflagration of inspiration,” Sergeant Sargent explained to Chief Inspector Peters, placing a pill bottle filled with pitch black capsules on the edge of his desk for Peters to take.

“They call it Oblivion. Makes one forget everything. Entirely. The Chief Constable feels these would be best applied on Skippers trying to leave town via the Britannia Bridge. Orders are that anyone caught trying to leave should be forcibly administered one of these and sent back the way they came.”

Peters collected the pill bottle and nodded an acknowledgement that could be easily misconstrued as agreement.

As he entered the elevator and the doors closed him off from the rest of Central, he regarded the pills in his hand with measured alarm. He supposed Sally Boyle more than anyone understood the want – the need, even – to forget. Still, she had to know making a drug like this was incredibly dangerous. The constabulary’s use for it was downright benign compared to how a drug like Oblivion could be used. In the wrong hands…

2021/02 12

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: A White Feather, Pt. 4

Work had become very tense. Hickinbotham knew he was in hot water and was being scrutinized. He had been reassigned to patrolling the records room, which gave him a lot of time to ruminate on the man he’d nearly killed and who’s career he’d definitely ruined. It weighed on him, but all the same, he could still comfort himself with the knowledge, the simple fact, that all that unpleasantness need not have happened if that man hadn’t run, if he hadn’t been buying illegal drugs in the first place. It was his own fault that Hickinbotham had beaten him to a pulp.

Eventually, Hickinbotham was given an assignment. An arrest, another chance.

Arrests weren’t exactly common these days. It was more likely that a criminal would be collected by the doctors than the bobbies anymore. Perhaps though, despite the problems he’d created in apprehending Miss Boyle’s client, he’d distinguished himself as someone who could bring in a perpetrator in one piece.

He reported to Carmarthen House, determined to redeem himself.

Sergeant Sargent was his partner on this job. His presence suggested Hickinbotham wasn’t entirely trusted to do this with another lower ranking constable, but it also meant that when he did do a fine job of it, Sargent would see it firsthand.

“You’re going to need this,” Sargent said, handing him a loaded syringe. “Knockout Juice. We can’t use our truncheons on Dr. Faraday or we might knock the smarts out of her. Best to sneak up on her and tranquilize her instead.”

2020/09 15

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: A White Feather, Pt. 3

The day shift patrol on St. George was easy and pleasant. It consisted almost exclusively of meandering along the cobblestone paths, tipping his hat to little old ladies, flirting with the birds, and popping in on the shopkeeps. Everyone was mostly doing what they were supposed to. There was little excitement at all and frankly, Hickinbotham liked that just fine.

He would probably still be on that beat if it weren’t for Sally Boyle.

Hickinbotham was aware that Sally was the only producer of Blackberry. Blackberry was not illegal per se, but its use was restricted to the constabulary, doctors, and a few other high-ranking officials. As such, the number of people stopping by Sally’s business on any given day was highly suspect. They couldn’t be there for Blackberry and there was no reason to come all the way out to St. George if you just needed to restock your medicine cabinet with healing balm and Neximide. She must be selling something else. Something that you couldn’t get at Stewart Adams’ apothecary or from a Mood Booth.

Her advertisements practically said as much.

Hickinbotham decided to take the initiative. He patrolled loosely around her house until one of her clients, some posh Parade gent, came and went. He followed the client at a distance until he passed into a street with no one else on it. Hickinbotham closed the gap between them and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

2020/09 15

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: A White Feather, Pt. 2

Hickinbotham quite liked the night shift. It was peaceful. Just him and the occasional other constable passing like ships in the… well, the night. He found the ethereal calliope-esque tootling of a Jubilator on the next street soothing. And if it rained (which it almost always did) the streets would shine and sparkle even more than usual. The gas mask made it a little stuffy, but with the fog it couldn’t be helped. It was a sort of privilege to get to see the Village like this, something only Bobbies were afforded.

When he came upon the mangled corpse of a woman in the middle of the street, just on the periphery of a patch of pea-soup, her entrails flung hither and thither, he wondered if that was what had tempted her to break curfew.

He blew his whistle and the constables on the surrounding streets ran to his location. They made quick work of cordoning off the area. One of them popped back to Central to collect Constable Burne-Jones.

Burne-Jones stepped out of the Bobby Popper and approached the scene. He knelt down next to the corpse and inspected the killer’s handiwork.

“Yep,” he concluded, “It fits the M. O.”

2020/09 15

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: A White Feather, Pt. 1

Constable Bobby Hickinbotham had no patience for moral philosophy. For as long as he could remember, the path of virtue had never been obscured by the overgrown brush of nuance nor weathered and worn by doubt. It was as simple and clear as the painted road. In his estimation, it was not hard or complicated to do right and anyone who thought otherwise was being either willfully obtuse or too clever by half. As a young man, when it became clear that he would reach the requisite height, it was obvious that he should join the constabulary. It was the very personification of the honorable way. As a constable, he could guide those who could not see the world with the unwavering clarity that he did.

The path of righteousness became much rockier after he’d earned his badge though.

His first day on the job, he was assigned to shadow Constable Wright on the Salamanca Bridge.

2020/09 15

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: A Real Show of Horrors

“They all loved the fish-hook-in-the-nose move!” Rodney argued as he pulled the cushions from the couch. It was a new addition to the close-of-day tasks: all the couches had to be checked for lost items every morning.

“That’s not the point!” George snapped. “You don’t just jam your finger up someone’s nose without any warning, you knobhead!” He sprayed the peep show window with glass cleaner and angrily wiped the smudges away. “That is literally the first thing Madame Wanda says when you start here.”

“She never said anything about that,” Rodney said. He felt around in the crevices of the couch, checking for keys and other small items.

“Rule #1: Everything must be agreed upon in advance,” George quoted. “Ring any fuckin’ bells?”

“Sure, for all the kinky stuff with the customers. How’s I supposed to know it goes for something as tiny as that?”

2020/09 12

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: This Vicious Cabaret

So Mod Interview: Nancy Drysdale

Wellington Wells’ Beautician to the Stars Nancy Drysdale dishes on her clients, career, and secret beauty tips!

Nancy Drysdale is sitting on a park bench in front of the Broadcast Tower. Uncle Jack has just started his gardening show, so Nancy has a few minutes to chat before she needs to get back in the studio, if we make it quick and bring her a cup of toasted chicory.

Nancy is 39 and is the premiere makeup and hair stylist in Wellington Wells. She first came to prominence after her styling for Victoria Byng at the opening of the Bolshevism Against Europe Gala turned Wellington Wells’ collective head. She has since collaborated with nearly every face we’ve come to know and love, from Nick Lightbearer to Sally Boyle. Currently, she is sole makeup and hair stylist to our Uncle Jack.

We sent frequent contributor Mary Ann Evans to chat with Nancy to get her insider perspective on Wellington Wells’ celebrities, fashion, and her own personal beauty tips.

So Mod: You know we have to ask: what’s Uncle Jack like?

2020/09 07

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: Put Forth a Thorn

My Dearest Violet,

You can’t imagine the agony with which I write this, as I do love you so and could not imagine my life without you. I had always thought that we would be together forever. That our children would be as siblings and our husbands as brothers. That our families would be as one.

After yesterday, I cannot see how that could ever be. I have tried to embrace your husband, but he finds threat in everything about us. And I fear what he might do if we persist. I looked upon our savaged lilies, how he ripped them apart and pulled them from their earth, and I know that is what he would do to us if he could.

2020/09 03

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: What’s Said and What’s Done

Their new “home” in Lud’s Holm would’ve been positively quaint if it weren’t for the mad ravings of the plague wastrels outside at night.

James came down the stairs from delivering Dr. Faraday’s dinner to find Roger sitting at the kitchen table, pressing his ear to the wall.

“I think they’re speaking Old English,” Roger said. “They’re saying…” He leaned harder into the wall, trying to hear. “They’re quoting Beowulf,” he concluded with some disappointment. If they had been communicating with each other, then that would suggest they still had some cognitive function and could be helped. That they were only all reciting lines from Beowulf probably meant they weren’t really thinking at all and were just repeating what they heard from other plagued wastrels. He did wonder how they came to be so fixated on the poem though.

“You gonna go out and form a book club then?” James said, sitting in the other chair and pouring himself some tea.

2020/09 03

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: A Room With a View

Miss Byng had obviously gone on holiday and would not be returning. That left him with the most seniority in the department. That entitled him to her office.

Clive turned the knob and swung the door open.

He would need to redecorate. All this heavy antique furniture and all these paintings of people on horses. She always was a little princess, wasn’t she? So high and mighty, walking around with her riding crop as if she might smack you with it for daring to question her command. Acting like a military leader, like her father, when she’d had everything handed to her on a silver platter. He would be much a better head of the department than she ever was. He understood what it was like to be everyone else. He knew what it was like to have to actually earn things. He’d be more approachable, more common!

He shut the door behind him and locked it.

Clive approached the window. A room with a view. That was how you knew you’d made it. And now he finally had.

He pulled the curtains open and looked down upon the Parade.

2020/09 02

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Django Durango

Category:Popular Culture

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: You Only Forget Twice

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: A White Feather, Pt. 4

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: A White Feather, Pt. 3

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: A White Feather, Pt. 2

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: A White Feather, Pt. 1

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: A Real Show of Horrors

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: This Vicious Cabaret

So Mod Interview: Nancy Drysdale

Wellington Wells’ Beautician to the Stars Nancy Drysdale dishes on her clients, career, and secret beauty tips!

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: Put Forth a Thorn

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: What’s Said and What’s Done

Twenty-Two Short Films About Wellington Wells: A Room With a View

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for the WIP ask game... The Future Is Still Silver and Black? (original train fiction from you two sounds really interesting!)

Bluesky