(Well, technically it's not gonna be a fresco, but it'll still be influenced by the ones found in Pompeii, if only by background --)
Why have a terra cotta wall otherwise?!
It was quite obvious from the start that a shocking wall such as that should not be hid behind yet another book cabinet (as it is now), but celebrated instead in an evil bottomed wall painting.
From thence great minds diverged - The Chief Designer
mused about an airy leaning tree, Nipponese style, but the opposition argued that although tentaclysm is a throbbing pillar of modern civilization, red is not a fitting background for silk painting. The Executor
fantasized about taking some pretty Raphael, reducing it to three shades and sticking some Doric columns around it, but Head of Art
made a fine point about the sensitivity of such an original in the clums of our hands. Instead, he said, why not pick some Hellenistic piece of pottery and project that instead. Single shade, more prosaic art, the repetitive decorations asking to be stenciled, and the perfect background, of course. We set forth and found a beautiful drawing of deer slaughtering (Hmmm...) and a Homer based one of man slaughtering (Aha!mmm...) and were almost ready to start, but The Feng-Shui Guru
dryly noted that all that slaughtering going round might harm the tranquil equilibrium of the bloody wall and suggested inFuriated Orestes or some Afro-ed Ditty, and while looking for some well formed Muses we realized that we'll have to depart from the shades we already had and paint it dark brown. Acronaut L.
suggested Magritte, The Geometer
said the walls are pink (but all his 'pressions are tainted goluboy, so we never mind), the moose started huddling in one corner and drinking much too much, The working class
nodded silently and kept his dignity, the line dropped dead on our toes, The Zershling
meowed "All good salmon is art!" and the wall remained red.
I'm afraid there'll be no escape but to feed the lady of the house and convene the resident quorum. Until then, the fourth wall will continue staring at us with faux majesty, waiting for redemption by the silliness it deserves.