Demitri Presov arrived at the loft shortly after noon and Siggy was impressed. Presov looked like a character snatched from a Dostoevsky novel, a fourth brother Karamazov, wearing a dingy white linen kosovorotka shirt, slightly oversized dark pants held up by a gashnik, thin thigh length boots, and a fiddler's cap. Short, bearded, and with a look of seething anger, he paced up and down the loft, snorting dismissively while mumbling to himself in a language that was not quite Russian and not quite English. Siggy was shocked when Wilson made his apologies and left the loft for a supposed appointment uptown.

Siggy seated himself at a small wooden table and poured himself a cup of tea, waiting for whatever demons were arguing in Demitri's head to vacate. Finally, the angry gnome of a man calmed considerably and seated himself opposite, pouring himself a cup of tea as well. He face shifted from fury to amusement in an instant. A broad toothy smile planted itself on his face.
"Greetings comrade. You see how easy it is to command attention. This is double true with wealthy soulless capitalists, they love watching crazy... safe crazy, yes. We... what is that term? We, the hoi polloi...plebians, riffraff... the proletariat... we frighten them, but they need us so they can feel superior. They do not understand struggle, so they wish to see us suffer, they need to see us insane and bitter. This way they can laugh at us... but we laugh at them... until we execute them all, of course!" He laughed loudly.

"Do you know why you're here?" Siggy asked gently.

"Of course," Demitri slammed his palm into the table, making Siggy sit back, "We are here to help you make fools of those bloodsuckers, to give you money. You are artist, I am artist... they are scum, also stupid in every way but getting rich. We play with them, we insult them, it makes them happy, because they are stupid and we are not. Then they give us much money, yes?"

Siggy smiled, he was beginning to like Demitri, "Yes."

"Good. I will tell you what you can and cannot say. I show you how to behave. They will despise you so much that they love you like angel."

"May I ask you a question?"

"Of course Siegfried."

"Siggy is fine. Are you a communist? You put off a real old school revolutionary vibe."

Demitri laughed and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "I think everyone else should be good communist. I like to buy things like good capitalist... don't tell anyone about Demitri's weakness."

"I won't." Siggy chuckled.

"Let us begin. Things you should and should not say."

"All right."

"First you must remember these parasites are pretending to be good humans. They will not support artists who are racist, sexist, homophobic, or xenophobic in public. In private most of  upper crust are guilty of all these sins, but the masks they wear out in world are very important to them. They give to charities so they do not have to think about suffering... and of course so they don't pay taxes. Second you must only attack their class, not them individually, that way they can bask in guilt and blame those around them."

"I don't think I understand," Siggy said.

"Is simple. Do not say Mr. Fisk is bloodsucking evil man who feeds off the poor. Say that the wealthy are bloodsucking evil men who feed off poor. They will all nod and agree and point to person next to them."

"I get it, but how should I behave... I mean... my manner and such."

"Look angry, mumble, point at them and stare at them. Change tone many times, sometimes loud, sometimes quiet. Use a tic or mannerism like rubbing face or having jerky movement... not too much like epilepsy, but enough to notice. Act frustrated and angry at the world... they will love it."

Siggy laughed, "If they don't have you committed or arrested."

"Trust me comrade, they will eat up this soup of indignation. They are bored with their world, they need jesters and angry clowns."

"Are they really that bad?"

"They should all die," Demitri said matter-of-factly, "they are cancer on this world. They take many forms in history; colonialists, slave-traders, ruling classes, conquerors, fascists, and robber-barons. They live only to subjugate and drain life from less privileged. They cannot let us be happy or satisfied, it would end them."

"Wow, you really don't like them at all."

Once more a broad grin crossed the Russian's face, "They do give Demitri lots of money, but Demitri is a hypocrite who likes expensive women and good wine. I take comfort in making them idiots and then telling them so."

"I don't disagree with you," Siggy said honestly, "they could do so much good, but choose to do nothing but line their own pockets and raise
new generations of privileged tyrants."

Demitri jumped up and came around the table, lifting Siggy in a tight bear hug, "Spoken like true Bolshevik!"

After Demitri released him, he patted the Russian on the back, "I'm not political, I don't know the answers, I only see the problems. If I can get enough people to see them as well, someone who might have the answers may act," his voice saddened, "It hurts me to see the injustice. I use the villains to show the villainy. It's not much, but it drives me."

"Well said my friend Siggy, use them like they use everybody else. There is nothing else I need to tell you. Demitri knows you will do very good. Do you have any booze in house, I am suddenly thirsty."

"I think I can find some, maybe even some vodka."

Demitri chuckled, "You know, part of reason for Russian Revolution is that Czar banned vodka in 1914... the fool. As for Demitri, tell no one, but I prefer scotch."

Siggy found some glasses and a bottle of single malt. He poured out two healthy portions.
"Scotch it is. Na zdarovje!"

Elaine was dictating some gallery invitations to Rose when Bertram walked into her office. Elaine looked up and smiled.

"So, Bertram, what brings you to my cave?"

"A favor, my dear."

"Why am I not surprised. Out with it then, what can I do for you?"

Bertram planted himself on the sofa and leaned back, "I'm trying to worm a couple of invitations to the post-symphony cocktail party at the Fisks this weekend. I'm hoping to introduce our artist to the good and powerful for the first time, well, not me... Wilson."

Elaine sat up abruptly, "He's making his debut? Marvelous. Your mister Jager is generating a good deal of buzz. I think it should be easy to get the invites... everyone is quite curious."

"That would be excellent!" Bertram said enthusiastically.

"You would need to come as well, Wilson is not exactly a part of that crowd on his own merit, even if he is Jager's agent. They hate middlemen."

"Whatever it takes, Elaine. Of course he doesn't know Wilson and I are a couple, it could be touchy."

"In that case, I recommend you address that issue if you want Wilson to attend."

"I'll figure it out. We're going to have to let Jager know sooner or later. Will you be there?"

"I wouldn't miss it. Ezra will be there of course, and some other symphony musicians. I'll weasel out an invitation for Devon too, he's just fun to have around and is invested in this bet as much as we are," she broke into a broad grin, "This is going to be amazing."

"Jager has been getting tips from Presov."

"Better and better... trained by that annoying little anarchist. That will be a sight to see. The hyenas will be in a feeding frenzy."

"Who is attending?" Bertram asked.

"I imagine everyone, all dozen power couples... the Fisks, Howes, Davises, Mellons, Parishes, all of them. They do, after all, travel in packs."

"Outstanding!"

Despite the fact that Siggy generally disliked face-timing, he was joyful in seeing Adrianna's beaming face smiling at him in the monitor of his laptop. He enthusiastically conveyed everything that was happening and took particular delight in telling her about his meeting with Demitri.

Adrianna listened enthralled and when the summation was complete, she conveyed her enthusiasm at Siggy's progress.

"It sounds like Alice in Wonderland," she said, "very surreal. So now you're heading to the lion's den?"

"It seems so. I really miss you. I wish you were here."

"Maybe next time I'll go up with you. As far as this cocktail party is concerned, you must tell me every little detail when it's over."

"I definitely will," he lowered his eyes, "there's something I want to ask you."

Adrianna's voice became very soft, "Go on sweetie."

He loved when she called him 'sweetie'. "I was hoping that when I got back next week, you'd consider spending a few days with me at my farm. We could hang out and... stuff."

"How could I resist visiting your lair?" She laughed, "I've really wanted to see your studio and I think some quiet time together would be great, not to mention watching old movies and munching popcorn. I'm in!"

"That's great! Knowing I'll see you when I get back is going to make this cocktail party a piece of cake!"

"You just make sure to take a big bite of that cake, Siggy. You deserve it."