[The story is based on Anne Rice's Interview With The Vampire the AMC series]
During the 1870s and '80s, it gave rise to the Industrial Revolution which paved way to the concept of capitalism dominated by social elites: the aristocrats - who played...
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THE STREETS WERE ALIVE with colors and music. Necklaces made out of beads were thrown everywhere, live bands making people dance, floats with a theme of fairy tale creatures rolling around every highway, and little kids playing firecrackers. New Orleans was at its best of festive cheer at this time of year. Nobody would want to miss it.
As Lestat and I pierced through the huddled crowd in public, I saw a bunch of people standing at the balcony of one of the buildings in the French Quarter. One of them was holding this necklace with enormous beads, and almost every people below with us wanted to have it, but were hesitating.
Lestat noticed that I stopped walking. He glanced at where I was looking at, then muttered. "I think you have to drink the milk that they pour on you, and catch the cake that they'll throw... with your face. Then, they'll give you that beaded necklace."
I turned at him, frowning. "Why?"
"I don't know. I'm a foreigner too."
"I'll do it."
It was his time to frown. "What?"
"I said I'll do it." Then I grinned. "It's gonna be fun!"
"Look. If you want that necklace, I can just buy you another one. A real one."
"Well where's the fun in that?" Then I grabbed him. "Come on!"
"Or we can catch other beaded necklaces that they throw from the floats?"
I kept pulling him. "Come on, I want to try this!"
Lestat huffed like a grumpy old man, but he let me pull him toward the scene. However, he stopped when he realized I was urging him to do it with me.
"No."
"Why not?"
"This niaiserie will ruin my expensive suit."
"You're rich. You can always buy another one." Then I tried to bat my eyelashes and looked at him like a puppy would. "S'il vous plait, mon ami!"
"Your pronunciation is still shit." Lestat crossed his arms stubbornly. "Non."
But it was too late. We were standing exactly at the spot for those who would participate. Thinking that we're in it, the man upstairs did pour the milk from the jag and it drenched our whole body with just one plop. Now we're all sticky and wet with cow juice.
I laughed loudly, witnessing the shocked face of Lestat shifting to disgust - to chagrin - to annoyance - then to indifference.
"I'm gonna put a stake in your heart." He casually muttered as he wiped his face.
"Aw! I would love a steak!" I sneered. "But first, let's eat cake!"
He frowned. "What?"
I hugged Lestat sideways to keep him still, then looked up - anticipating the cake that the man upstairs was holding. "LET 'EM EAT CAKE!" He yelled, and the crowd went nuts. Then, he dropped it on us. It hit our heads and the icing smeared our faces, but it got extra slimy since we were drenched in milk.
