Brace yourself—they’re coming. Post concussion, I’m sort of bored and disillusioned with reality, and don’t want to write about it for awhile. Instead, in my not-all-there state, I am posting something a little different.
We came to America not as refugees, but Refugee-Imagineers. Reimagineers for short.
It all started with a small world.
At 4’5″, Ursula Groucho Rom is a Small-World UNICEF-isim, the product of a condition that no longer exists in the first world. She is also the Associated Press’ smallest crime reporter. Between the high-profile wedding to a rising Russian businessman, the fast-track career, the West Hollywood apartment and the IKEA furniture, she thought she’d finally clawed her way out of that Section 208 life.
And then there was the affair with the AP photographer, and like a badly-built FLÄRKE shelf, her perfect life came crashing down. Now, exiled to a cot above her uncle’s laundermatte in Brighton Beach, she’s stuck working night-cops and translating the wires while her husband manages family affairs in Tel Aviv.
That’s when the cabs start exploding. First in Brooklyn, then in Midtown, and finally, in front of the UN. Can Ursula and her motley band of Reimagineers find the culprits behind New York’s TERROR TAXIS before it’s too late?
This is not actually the song that started this story in my head on the plane from Mumbai to Hyderabad (that would be Bamboo Banger), but this video is better.
In future episodes, meet the cast of characters that populate