Chapter 13: Operation Tiffany – International Rescue and Fecal Art
Lukas was already waiting in a neon-yellow Beetle on the set in Seoul. He kicked the passenger door open from the inside, signaling his extreme urgency. Clara stared at him, speechless. Lukas was wearing a black velvet suit, a burgundy headscarf, and sunglasses that covered half his face.
"Why are you dressed like that? You look like a cross between 'The Man in Black' and 'The Fly'," Clara said dryly. Lukas clutched his chest, offended. "Excuse me? I am the living embodiment of a male Audrey Hepburn, you uncultured swine!"
"Okay, sorry, my bad. Do you have a plan? Please tell me you have a plan." "Of course, darling! I booked us two seats in Economy. First Class was out of reach because the costumes cost a bit more than expected." "Wait... flights?!" "Yesss! You know HW lives in Frankfurt, so that's where Tiffany is!" "Luki, I'm filming a multi-million dollar series here! I can't just leave!" "Don't panic! I've calculated it perfectly. With the time difference, no one will even notice we're gone. It's like 'Back to the Future' or that beer commercial: buy three bottles, get the fourth for free. Which means if you buy 18 bottles, you get a six-pack for free, right?! The time difference basically gifts us the flight!" Clara rubbed her temples. "I... I can't follow your logic at all."
Ten hours later – Arrival in Frankfurt
"There wasn't even champagne!" Lukas complained in the terminal. "Only that cheap sparkling wine that tastes like soda. Just like that disgusting Lambrusco—like red wine lemonade! Only the homeless and the soul-crushed drink that. Oh my god, do you think they served it from a cardboard box? I'm actually feeling nauseous!" "Luki, why did you even want to drink on the plane? We need to stay sober to rescue Tiffany!" "Darling, I am sober! A little bubbly doesn't impair my baby's rescue mission. But I thought I might run into HW and well... one doesn't want to look like a shriveled raisin."
Lukas scanned the terminal like he was expecting an ambush. "Okay, change of plan. We're not taking a normal taxi. We need something discreet. Something that doesn't scream 'I'm kidnapping my own plant'."
Ten minutes later, they were sitting in a black stretch limo Lukas had ordered via an app. "Lukas!" Clara hissed, trying to sink as deep into the leather seats as possible. "This is the opposite of discreet! This is a moving neon sign for criminals!"
"Nonsense," Lukas said, pouring himself a glass of (real) champagne from the minibar. "Everyone will think we're wealthy heirs or K-pop stars on an incognito tour. No one suspects people in a limo of dragging a Monstera out of a third-story apartment. It's psychological warfare, Clara. Take a sip, you look like you haven't breathed since Seoul. Besides, Tiffany needs a getaway vehicle with style!"
At HW's Apartment
Lukas had timed the window perfectly. On Thursdays, his favorite bakery had fresh cream cake. Since the line there was legendary, they had at least 42 minutes. Inside the apartment, it was a sad sight: Tiffany looked withered. But Lukas's pity turned to rage when he spotted a photo of HW and his new boyfriend—both laughing and happy.
Lukas snatched the photo, disappeared into the bathroom, and returned with a very satisfied expression. "What did you do?" Clara asked nervously. Lukas smirked. "There's only one honest answer to that: I took a dump on it. Now that hussy in the photo isn't attractive anymore; he's surrounded by a warm glow of brown. Ha! I'm the best!"
"Lukas! We have a problem!" Clara interrupted. "Tiffany is nearly two meters tall now. How are we supposed to get her out of here?" Lukas blinked. "Well... I didn't really think about that part, love. But don't panic!" "We could chop her into small pieces?" Clara suggested desperately. Lukas gave her a stern look. "Pardon me? This is a rescue mission, not a massacre at a Lagerfeld clearance sale!"
Suddenly, they heard HW in the hallway. He was early! "Put this on!" Lukas commanded, shoving a neon-pink wig into Clara's hand. "What? No! I look like a clown!" "It's a visual tactic! No one remembers your face, only the hair! I'm Audrey Hepburn, you're the Pink Explosion. Go, onto the balcony!"
While Lukas distracted HW at the door with an operatic "Love Telegram" and a spontaneous color consultation, Clara tried to lower the two-meter Monstera using knotted bedsheets. Suddenly, a scream erupted from the apartment: "HOLY CRAP! MY PHOTO!"
"RUN, CLARA!" Lukas bellowed. Clara gave Tiffany a final shove. The plant soared through the air like a green comet and landed with a heavy thud on the roof of the waiting stretch limo. They stumbled down the stairs, jumped into the car, and sped away while HW screamed in disbelief from the balcony.
Clara ripped the pink wig off her head. "We're going to hell, Lukas." Lukas leaned back with a sigh, sipping his champagne. "Maybe. But Tiffany is safe, and HW needs a new toothbrush. A successful day, darling!"