002 - modern steel
"Angelo, Angelo, did you read this morning's Gazette?!" rang through the museum.
"Why is Stephen so loud?" was all the responding that Angelo could muster to Stephen's question, and even then it was entirely internal.
...Of course Angelo had read the Gazette this morning. He remembered the details of the scene quite vividly: he was sitting at his makeshift kitchen table, sipping at his coffee cup. The cup was blue, and the inside was originally white, but had now obtained a certain stain that comes to anything that has had great amounts of time spent with coffee.
The Gazette this morning had completely smashed the new exhibit at Angelo's San Frouse museum. The reviewer, Ciettro, was a notoriously difficult reviewer, but that didn't matter much. Now, with the terrible review, Angelo could rest assured that his exhibit would be completely snubbed by the upper class community that he relied on to pay his rent, to pay for his coffee, and to pay for his subscription to the Gazette.
But for some reason the review is not what came to mind for Angelo when he heard Stephen's yell. Instead, he thought about how after reading the paper, the ink had stained his hands. Examining his fingertips now--washed many times since--he still felt as if he could detect some tinge of stain.
"Angelo, Angelo, Angelllllllllllllo!!!!!" rang through the halls. Stephen could never be quiet. Why was he in such a fit? The exhibit was Angelo's, and Stephen was essentially a doorman at the museum. Surely a doorman can find another job, Angelo thought, but not I. Curator and artist, I live as both, and now where will I go?
Suddenly, Angelo realized where he had let his thoughts wander to again. No, he decided that he mustn't think about that, and instead went back to thinking about how the Gazette had that nasty habit of printing full-page ads across from the international news.
Then Angelo kicked the chair out from under him, and the noose kicked tight. It was over in an instant, and Stephen was instantly silenced.