granted that in this chronologically nineteenth, though listed as the twenty-second, chapter of my own personal version of '102 Dalmatians', there's a really long author's note or two within the precipice of the chapter's storyline, but I can promise that the storyline of the chapter still takes up more than the comments to my own writings guised as author's notes. this chronologically nineteenth chapter is a good nine-hundred-eighty-two words worth of storyline long. it's a storyline that doesn't include any of this explanatory headnote, right here, nor does it include the disclaimer making up the paragraph following this headnote which I always list as mandatory. the storyline also doesn't include any of the author's notes I mentioned at the beginning of this headnote, no matter how lengthy they are this time. OK, enough jawing about. time for the obligatory disclaimer, already.
disclamation: I don't own '102 Dalmatians' in any way, shape, or form. I mean, I own it on DVD, but I was only seven when it first appeared in theaters, at all. so, it wouldn't even be natural for me to have owned '102 Dalmatians', at all. I also don't own either of the '101 Dalmatians' movies. I was but two or three years old when the live action remake came out, and when the original animated classic of '101 Dalmatians' came to theaters, I didn't even exist, yet. all these films are owned by the Walt Disney Movie Productions Company and by Dodie Smith.
At Cruella's present-during-the-time location, she watched as a new fur fashion designer presented his own clothing line of fur fashion. The sign on the wall showed the name, 'Peruto', in big, neon-blue letters as models showed themselves off in the fashion show. A Japanese hit song even played in the background as the models showed off their furry couture. There had even been a bridal gown lined with fur.
Then, the master of the show, the fur fashion designer, himself, Fukushima Peruto, showed himself to his British public, wearing a coat he made from a cheetah's hide.
A/N: a cheetah's my favorite animal out in the wild. of course, I'd have made it into Peruto's victim.
Fukushima Peruto all but dazzled every last one of his fans who had all been foolish enough to have never once realized that those were real animals whose pelts with which he had been modeling.
A/N: you idiots. I feel sorry for you all.
Of course, the demonstrators that showed up knew better than to have thought any of the animals' skins were not taken via the means of killing said animals. A woman screamed out about his technical killings first.
Woman demonstrator: Murderer!
Man demonstrator: Murderer!
Two of the demonstrators had even dumped bloody red paint all over Fukushima from where they were even from just beneath the runway. The audience reacted as unseemly as one would have expected of completely misguided fur fashion lovers. Fukushima, himself, snarled at the demonstrators against his chosen business.
Other man demonstrator: Killers!
As the police got involved, they tried to drag the demonstrators away as though they were the only problem with the fur fashion show.
A/N: fur fashion was banned a while ago, by the way, for any of my readers who still think it legal. the last I checked about fur fashion getting banned, it had been banned in the first place due to excessive poaching of wild animals. these days, only minks are allowed to be slaughtered for their pelts. they usually get made into hats that the Russians wear as a shield from the cold of their homeland. it's understandable for them. the rest of the world, however, can't really get away with such a thing anymore, least of all the Americans, the British, the French, and especially not the Japanese. OK, so I may or may not be bluffing about the British, the French and the Japanese, but I know I'm telling the truth about the Americans, because I live in America, specifically California, more specifically northern California and even more specifically than that the capitol area in California. great! just great! I went on with my own author's comment and I let take up over an entire page of the chapter. I'll shut myself up now. back to the story.
Police officer: Come on, you!
Second police officer: You're nicked!
As the demonstrators protested against the police for supporting the fur fashion show and the crowd ran in a panic, Cruella decided to make her move as she walked towards Peruto's trailer for the fashion show. Meanwhile, Peruto, himself, was being rather ungratefully showered with all manner of consolation from all of his own workers. They all tried their hardest to reason with him, but he would not listen to any of them, nor would he accept any of the consolations they all tried to give to him. They even spoke to him in his native Japanese tongue as they tried to console him.
Fukushima Peruto: No! No!
Then, Fukushima even swatted a towel one of them tried to give him to get rid of the bloody red paint on his clothes back onto the assistant in question. They tried to offer their services to him, but he just continued to reject them ungratefully.
Fukushima Peruto's first servant: Peruto-san! Peruto-san!
Fukushima Peruto: Get out!
It was made painfully clear to most of his servants that all Fukushima Peruto wanted to do was sulk in his trailer as he opened it up and walked inside.
Fukushima Peruto (continued): Animaru! They're all animaru! They have no kurassu!
A/N: as I write what Fukushima's saying, I wished that spell check would have kept in mind that the person whose dialogue I was writing when I listed what came out of Fukushima's mouth spoke with a Japanese accent. why is it that spell check always assumes a foreign language or accent to be a misspelled word?
Fukushima Peruto had even slammed a vase from right on the table in his own trailer against said table. The vase also had flowers within it, even. Luckily, the vase was one made out of stainless steel and not one of glass. One of his servants had even tried to speak out against Fukushima's display of all his violent anger suddenly having gotten completely out of control.
Fukushima Peruto's second servant: But, Peruto-san_
As his servants tried in vain to get him to calm down, Cruella walked up to Fukushima's trailer and knocked on the door.
Fukushima Peruto: Reave me arone!
The servants just continued to try in vain to get Fukushima to calm down as one of them opened the door for whomever was at said door. Then, Fukushima threw another vase at his own wall. The vase he threw at the wall of his trailer in his violent anger actually did break on contact as it was a ceramic vase. It also held flowers in it. It even held water in it, too, for said flowers. Fukushima even went up to his trailer's front door to yell at whoever had wanted to see him all of a sudden, not once thinking that it might have been someone important.
Fukushima Peruto (continued): Not here!
Then upon catching a closer mental look at the face that stood on the other side of his trailer door, Fukushima suddenly realized what a grievous error he had made to such an important figure to the world of fur fashion. He had to find a way out of it with her. He opened the door back up for the important figure in fur fashion.
Fukushima Peruto (continued): Forgive me.
He had decided to blame his own lack of recognition toward her on his servants. He even spoke very nastily about his own servants even while they had clearly done nothing wrong.
A/N: exactly. it had all been Peruto's fault that he didn't recognize Cruella De Vil. he was the one who yelled, 'not here!' at her.
Fukushima Peruto (continued): My bakas didn't recognize you.
It had not even been close to having been one of his bakas' fault as he called his servants, especially since one of them had even opened the door to his trailer for the fur fashion icon, herself, in the first place.
A/N: fur fashion designers were such jerks back then, weren't they?
Of course, Cruella, only too used to assigning blame for anything she had done, herself, to that of another, bought Fukushima's claim of innocence about the lack of recognition he had upon first seeing her outside his trailer. She even sided with him about his claim that such a lack of recognition towards her was all his servants' fault as she stepped foot into his trailer. She also gave him nothing short of sympathy for what she saw as his only servants.
Cruella De Vil/Estella von Hellman: Only two minions to abuse? Oh, Fukushima, the world is so unfair, isn't it?
As his own servants gawked at who at least they actually recognized as the woman who first inspired their employer, Fukushima only grew all too jealous and had no interest in sharing the woman who he had placed atop a high, untouchable pedestal, like that of a goddess.
Fukushima Peruto: Get out! You are both unfit to look upon this, this goddess of fashion! Out! Out!
After throwing his servants out of his trailer, Fukushima straightened his hair for Cruella.