The Hotel 

 

Mr. Confetti sits in the Central Room at The Hotel, types away on a laptop computer. His violin, a quite unique original Stradavarius, sits in its pristine case nearby. Also on the table are stacks of paperwork, a tall glass filled with warm, sticky blood, and a silver platter that is currently covered. 

 

He swings around suddenly, as Alexander Danov, a fuzzy-mouse faced Nosferatu stands quitely in the shadows of a corner of the room. 

 

"Ah, hah! A mouse!" Confetti exclaims. "I knew there'd be rodents in here when I bought the place, but I never imagined the size! Oh my!" 

 

He lifts the silver platter, picks up a piece of hard Swiss cheese, and hurls it at Danov, who is so startled he can only stand there as the cheese hits him square in the chest and bounces to the floor. 

 

"Hmm. That is pretty amazing, Mr. Confetti. Nobody has ever detected me before. Still, you are quite too late. I have been poking around here for hours before I decided to spy on you directly. I know you are setting up some kind of game between Elders who will be arriving in Gary soon. As if we don't have enough issues as it is without this Contest of Will. When my Primogen learns what you're up to-" 

 

Danov suddenly clutches his head. "Aaarggghh!" He falls to his knees, and convulses. Mr. Confetti merely stares at him. "Yes. Yes, how wonderful. I have learned so much from you about the Kindred in this area. Alexander Danov, you are quite the asset. I knew you would be. Thanks for the memories." 

 

"You...you knew I would come. You set me up! I...what have you done to me?"

 

Mr. Confetti snatches up his violin, jumps up on the table, and plays a large segment of Fiddle on the Roof while Danov can only cringe on his knees. 
 

Mr. Confetti's mouth widens slightly. "What did I do to you? I reached my little fingers into your brain and deleted what I didn't want you to know about my plans. I sorted through the rest and extracted whatever I thought would be useful to me. Then after making a duplicate file of your memories in my own brain, I put your them back. And I can do that anytime I want. I can take it all, if I want to. Leave you lying drooling in a puddle of your own spittle, wondering how to figure out how to stand up, since you would no longer remember."  

 

He plays the rest of the Fiddler on the Roof. Danov shakes off the effect, gets to his feet.

 

Mr. Confetti hops off the table, onto the floor, and gently puts his violin away. 

 

"What are you going to do with me?" 

 

"Nothing. I like you Danov. You're a good guy. Just doing your job, I know that. So, no hard feelings. But I'm going to allow you to completely remember this part. I want you and the rest of your clan to understand what happens to people who try and spy on me. This is the first and the last time any of you will be entering my domain without my permission, I expect. But here's the thing, and I mean this sincerely, I have no designs to harm your clan. You go and tell your Elder that. Tell him that I'll be glad to take a private meeting, too, if he likes, and to provide assurances that my people aren't a threat to you." 

 

Danov slowly backs away. "I'll deliver the message." Just as he hits the doorway, he turns back. "Who are you intending to be a threat to?" 

 

Mr. Confetti absorbs the question, considers it, and then his eerie laughter fills the night air. He laughs like that for quite some time.