Story 532: The Spaceship Captain Who Can’t Even Anymore

 [Not based on a true story; I’m just on a Star Trek kick lately and this is a sort-of parody of those series]

(On the minimally staffed bridge of a slightly run-down spaceship, Destination: Unknown)

Captain: (Slouching in The Big Chair and staring broodingly at the various crew members at their various stations doing their various tasks, then at the main viewscreen showing the same images of stars, galaxies, and deceptive nothingness streaking by.  With a full-bodied sigh, hits a few buttons on an arm of The Big Chair) Captain’s Log: Space Date 4… 3… 2… 1...?  It’s March 14, 2724 – I barely learned the metric system on Earth, you think I’m gonna learn another standardized set of measurements more random than the English system?  Whatever: just doing the obligatory check-in where I note that it’s business as usual.  We continue on our unending mission to who-knows-where in order to do who-knows-what, getting into all sorts of shenanigans along the way.  Whoever’s bright idea it was to stick hundreds of terrestrial-based beings into an oversized tin can, continuously pump fake atmosphere into it, use controlled explosions to shoot it off into a vacuum and hope for the best, oughta be smacked upside the head.  I mean, what is the point of all this anyway?  Discovery?  We’re not discovering anything – every planet and celestial phenomenon we encounter as we stumble along the stars either is already known by the beings who live there, or is so incompatible with our own flora and fauna that the best we can do is point and say “Ooh that’s nice!” and move on.  Anything else messes up the civilizations that were doing perfectly fine before we got there, starts yet another war, or at best perpetuates the cycle of codependency.  And don’t get me started on what goes on board here during the downtime between stops on our improvised itinerary: we’ve got more experiments going awry than ones that have any practical application; equipment malfunctioning more often than it works that it’s a bona fide miracle we haven’t all been blown out into space or sprouted extra body parts; and half the crew hooking up with the other half that I’m frankly amazed that any work gets done.  And if I have to sign one more inane report on ship’s systems that should be running themselves at this point, I am literally going to tear my own head off.

Lieutenant: (Has been standing next to The Big Chair the entire time) Captain?

Captain: (Turns to Lieutenant) Yeah?

Lieutenant: I have a report for you to sign.

Captain: (Stares balefully at Lieutenant for several seconds) Computer: delete that log entry.

Computer: Log entry deleted.

Captain: (Takes the tablet that Lieutenant is holding out, uses a stylus to scribble at the bottom of the screen, and hands it back) All done – I feel so fulfilled.

Lieutenant: (Stares a moment at the screen) Thank you, Captain, but this doesn’t appear to be your name at the bottom.

Captain: That’s because it isn’t.

Lieutenant: May I ask – ?

Captain: I’d rather you didn’t, but go ahead.

Lieutenant: What does “TL;DR” stand for?

Captain: (Chuckles) It’s an ancient Earth phrase that comes in very handy in situations like these, Ensign.

Lieutenant: …It’s Lieutenant, actually, Captain.

Captain (Brow furrows in confusion) Since when?

Lieutenant: Since you promoted me last year.

Captain: I did?  What for?

Lieutenant: I believe the reason you gave was “Unexpected Competence.”

Captain: (Thinks for a moment, then laughs) Oh right, now I remember.  (Pointedly addresses the rest of the bridge crew) It was so rare.  (They duck their heads in shame as Captain turns to Lieutenant again) OK, we’re done; what’re you still hanging around for?

Lieutenant: I’m waiting to be dismissed, Captain.

Captain: You’re a full-grown adult, Lieutenant; you don’t need my permission to live.

Lieutenant: True, but we’re military so I do need your permission to leave.

Captain: Ugh, enough of that nonsense.  (Taps another few buttons on the arm of The Big Chair) Attention, ship inhabitants: this is obviously your Captain speaking.  New rule: when a conversion is clearly over, feel free to buzz off instead of waiting for me or any other so-called “superiors” to tell you when to go, and if turns out we’re not finished then we’ll order you back.  Captain – OUT!  (Taps another button to turn off the intercom, then stares pointedly at Lieutenant)

Lieutenant: Oh, right – bye.  (Trots to the bridge lift to exit)

Captain: (Smiling at the retreating figure) I knew I made you Lieutenant for a reason!  (Leans back in The Big Chair and starts spinning it from side-to-side, sighing again) I’m bored – somebody put on a movie!

Pilot: (Turns around in chair to face Captain) Um, Captain, we need the main viewscreen to navigate.

Captain: No you don’t – the computer and sensors are doing all the work and you’re only telling them where we want to go.  And the viewscreen just uses psychology to trick our minds into thinking we’re actually getting somewhere in a universe that has no beginning and no end.  (Pilot turns back to the controls, flabbergasted; Captain opens a panel next to The Big Chair, rummages around a bit, and pulls out a can of soda) Computer: tap into the kitten cam feed of the Humane Society in New Jersey and patch it through to the bridge’s viewscreen.

Computer: Accessing kitten cam feed.

(The starscape on the viewscreen is replaced by kittens playing with toys, napping, and overall being cute)

Captain: Heh-heh; sweet.  (Pops open the can’s tab with one hand and slurps the drink)

(An alert sounds)

Communications Officer: Captain, a ship from the star system we designated as Kepler-186 has suddenly appeared off our port bow!

Captain: (Nearly spits out the drink) “Suddenly appeared”?!  Who fell asleep at the lookout station?!

Communications Officer: Their ships have technology to hide themselves before making a dramatic entrance, Captain!

Captain: Oh right, I forgot they had that – wish we did.

Communications Officer: They’re asking us to pick up on the party line, Captain!

Captain: (Drops the soda can into the open panel and slouches again, head lolling back on The Big Chair) Arggghhh, what do those douchebags want noooow??!!

Communications Officer: We’ll probably find out in a few seconds once we pick up, Captain.

Captain: (Cracks jaw) Computer: replace the kitten cam feed with the incoming call.

Computer: Replacing kitten cam feed with incoming call.

(Kittens are replaced by the face of an angry-looking soldier)

General: Earth vessel –

Captain: (Head snaps from side to center) WHAT?!

General: (Momentarily taken aback) This is the warship –

Captain: We know what your ship’s name is, weirdo; it’s written in huge letters all over the hull.  (General is stunned into silence) WHAT DO YOU WANT?!!!

General: (Regains composure) You have trespassed in our space and have 30 seconds to move along or we will bombard you with artillery!  And possibly destroy you, but that outcome’s never a guarantee.

Captain: (Rolls eyes) We’re nowhere near your space – and besides, no one owns space, it just is; none of it can be yours and you can’t tell anyone what to do or where to be!

Pilot: (Turns around again) Actually, Captain, according to a memo sent from headquarters yesterday, this sector is now considered their space.

General: Aha!  You were told!  And we do so own it!

Captain: (Finally sits up and speaks to Pilot through clenched teeth) Then why are we in it right now?

Pilot: I may have been a little distracted in my duties lately, Captain; my apologies.

Captain: …If you even hint that high-school-couples’ drama has nearly led to an intergalactic incident, I will personally court-martial the both of you.  (Pilot turns back around and focuses intently on keeping the spaceship hovering in place)

General: Well, Captain?  Will you shove off or not?

Captain: (Leans back again) So, what, you want us to move four inches to the left or something?

General: “Inches”?

Captain: How far do we have to move ourselves in order for you to be content?

General: Oh, not far – 1,000 light years should be sufficient.

Captain: (Eyes widen) Are you kidding me?!  Even at top speed that’ll take us – (Counts on fingers) over a year!  And you only gave us 30 seconds!

General: Which have now passed, so it seems you leave us no choice.  (To off-screen crew) Blast `em to smithereens, good people! 

(Call abruptly ends and General’s face is replaced by the kittens as the spaceship rocks from laser beams hitting it)

Captain: (Falls out of The Big Chair, then scrambles back onto it) Are our defenses even working?!

Tactical Officer: The outer energy fields should hold for at least another minute, Captain, so that’s something.

Captain: Unbelievable.

(Lieutenant re-enters the bridge from the lift)

Lieutenant: Captain!  (The latter whips around in The Big Chair to face the former) “Too Long; Didn’t Read”?!

Captain: (Nearly falls onto the floor again as the spaceship rocks violently) Are you for real right now?!  Get outta here, and go wherever it is you nerds hide during fights like this!

Lieutenant: (Gasps while holding onto a railing as the spaceship rocks again) You don’t even know what I do here?!

Captain: No, and I don’t care and never will, nerd!

Lieutenant: (Runs back to the bridge lift and turns around to face Captain defiantly) That’s the last time I make sure the life support system works at maximum!  (Lift doors close on anguished triumph)

Captain: Cripes.  (Spaceship rocks the hardest it has yet; Captain spins around to Tactical Officer) What’s keeping you?!  Fire back!

Tactical Officer: How so, Captain?  Lasers?  Bombs?  Sledgehammers?

Captain: (Holding onto The Big Chair’s arms for dear life) I don’t know; use your best judgement!

(Tactical Officer shrugs and hits a button; a burst of light hits the other vessel, which immediately shuts down)

Captain: What’d you do?!

Tactical Officer: Hit `em with an EMP – seemed best.

Captain: (To self) I didn’t even know we had one of those.  (Hits a few buttons on The Big Chair’s arm; General materializes on the bridge) So!  You were saying?

General: This is outrageous!  You not only trespass in our newly-declared property, but you’ve now doomed my entire crew to a slow death by suffocation or hypothermia, whichever decides to act faster!  Once our homeworld hears about this abomination, they’re gonna go nuts!

Captain: Too bad: picking a fight and then losing it spectacularly comes with the literal territory.

General: We were defending ours!

Captain: From what, our nonexistent exhaust?!

General: From your presence!  We don’t like you, and we don’t want anyone tromping through our interstellar backyard!

Captain: Feeling’s mutual, but you don’t see me blowing up your ship about it.

General: But you were told!

Pilot: (Turns around in chair) We were told, Captain.

Captain: (To Pilot) I don’t want to hear another word out of you ever again.  (To General as Pilot sheepishly turns back around) All right, since you and your homeworld are clearly going to be eternal pains about all this, I’ll make it real simple.  Computer: target the other vessel and relocate it – (Smiles demonically at General) INTO EARTH’S SUN.

General: WHAT?!

Computer: Incapable of executing command: not enough power exists on this vessel to transport that amount of mass over that amount of distance.

Captain: (Sighs and leans back to address the ceiling) I am surrounded by insubordination!  (Pushes off from The Big Chair and approaches General) Fine!  We’ll bring your crew over here, help you fix your ship, you go on your merry little way, we go on to… wherever out of here, and none of us ever speak of this again.  Happy?!

General: No, but it’ll do.

Captain: Good, `cause I’m hungry so I’m going on break.  (Trots off to the bridge lift, leaving no one in charge so everyone looks confusedly at each other)

(Hours later, the two repaired ships part ways)

Captain: (Back on the bridge, eating a candy bar; hits a few buttons on an arm of The Big Chair) Captain’s Log: The past few hours have been extremely annoying and I don’t want to talk about what happened and wind up reliving it, so I won’t.  [Crunch-Crunch] Oh yeah, one more thing: I’m writing up the entire crew for sass.  Even if they don’t to my face, I know they do behind my back.  [Crunch-Crunch] Blazes, these things are tedious – having me “Dear Diary” every five minutes when there’s an objective recorder in the background at all times is the definition of redundancy.  I mean, if the ship crash lands tomorrow, who cares what I thought about the whole thing?  No amount of self-reflection’s gonna unscramble that egg, know-what-I-mean?  [Crunch-Crunch] That’s about it – end log.  (Tosses the candy wrapper like a basketball into a nearby garbage bin) Yes!  Nothing but net.

Pilot: (Turns around in the chair) Captain, I know you never wanted to hear me speak again, but can I ask a question off the record?

Captain: (Opens another panel, grabs a pillow and blanket, reclines The Big Chair, and settles in for a nap) Like I just said if you were eavesdropping properly, the computer records everything like a spy so nothing’s ever off the record.

Pilot: Oh.

Captain: (Closes eyes) OK, what’s up?

Pilot: Well, you clearly don’t want to be out in space –

Captain: No kidding.

Pilot: – so… why did you join a space-exploring organization?  And bonus question: how did you ever get promoted to Captain?!

Captain: (Puts on a sleep mask and curls onto side) I had nothing better to do, and there was a shortage.  Now: continue flying us on our course to nowhere, and no one talk to me for the next six hours – I’ll be deep in multiple dream cycles, which are far more entertaining than this nonsense.

Story 527: I Got a Bit Carried Away When Writing Season 4

             (In a conference room, seated around a long table are a television series’ showrunner, producers, and lead actors; various assistants are seated throughout the room behind them, ready to provide technical and moral support)

Showrunner: (Beaming widely at the attendees) Hiiiiiii, everyone!  I hope you all had a great hiatus!  (There is a chorus of mildly enthusiastic “Yeah”s, “It was OK”s, and one noncommittal grunt) So!  By now you’ve all heard the amazing feedback on the success that Season 3 was this year; the audience couldn’t get enough of us and kept demanding more – (To one of the producers) genius idea to go the traditional route and release only one episode a week, by the way –

Producer: (Smugly) That’s why they pay me the big bucks.

Showrunner: Finally paid off.  (Producer double-takes) We’re the critics’ darlings, reviews and ratings are through the roof, and all the awards are pouring in, including – (Gestures to Lead 1) our very own Best Actor in a Popular Series nominee, yaaaaaay!  (Starts clapping for Lead 1; everyone else slowly joins in)

Lead 1: (Mildly embarrassed) Thanks, everybody; that really belongs to all of us, truly.

Lead 2: (Seated next to Lead 1 and staring straight ahead) Then where’s my nomination?

Lead 1: You know very well I have no control over that stuff.

Lead 2: Of course – it’s not like there’s any campaigning involved in these things.

Lead 1: You were plenty welcome to submit your name as a nominee.

Lead 2: That’s not how I roll.  (Turns to Lead 1) Last I checked, this was an ensemble show.  We all support each other.

Lead 1: Oh yeah?  Tell that to the upstagers over there; I think they missed the memo.  (Nods across the table at Lead 3 and Lead 4, whose mouths drop open in shock)

Lead 3: Ex – cuse me?!

Lead 4: Yeah, why’re you suddenly dragging us into this?

Lead 1: Oh, I don’t know, maybe because every time we do scenes together, one or both of you are mugging for the camera in every shot!

Lead 3: It’s called “staying in character”, as you should know at this point in your career!  And not being boring about it, by the way.

Lead 4: Maybe, if you had a little more fun with the role, you’d’ve also been nominated for “Most Dynamic Performer in a Series” like we were.

Lead 3: And won!  Twice!  (Lead 3 and Lead 4 high-five each other)

Lead 1: (Seething) That’s a baloney award from a baloney organization and you know it.

Lead 4: Award’s an award.

Lead 2: (Back to staring into the middle distance) You’re telling me….

Showrunner: Children, my children!  We’ve gone completely off-track and are now barreling through the forest of inanity.  Let us return to why we are all gathered here today: our table read for the much-anticipated Season 4 of our show, yaaaaay!  (Claps again but only a few assistants and producers join in this time) Now, you all were given each episode’s script on your way in, so no peeking ahead to the finale!

Lead 5: (Raises hand as the other leads take the top script from the pile) Question: how come these weren’t sent to us over hiatus like usual?  I like to prep before these things.

Showrunner: Well, this season I wanted to do something a little different: I wanted you all to experience the wonder, the thrills, the chills, and the emotional destruction of each episode together, communally, just as almost the entire audience will when they watch these on the release dates.  (The leads stare blankly at Showrunner) It’ll be fun!

Lead 4: Sure, why not; I’m always up for something new.

Lead 1: (Narrows eyes at Lead 4) You would be.  (Lead 4 gives a baffled “What?!” look)

Lead 2: (To Lead 1) Not exactly the insult I’m sure you were going for.

Lead 1: (Flipping through the script) Realized that after the fact.

Showrunner: OK!  So, like usual, I’ll be reading the stage directions and such; and you all of course know where to come in.  Please save any minor questions for the end so we can keep this going; but if there’s something major you notice, feel free to speak up immediately!  These are pretty much the final drafts since the multiple plots building up over the past few years are so heavily intertwined that any revisions at this point will cause the whole series to collapse in on itself, but, you know, as the showrunner and sole writer on this show, I’m technically open to suggestions. 

Lead 6: Why are you bothering with a table read then if you have no intention of making any revisions?

Showrunner: I wanna hear out loud how awesome it is.  So!  Without further ado, let us begin with

SEASON 4, EPISODE 1

Showrunner: “Scene 56.  Exterior.  Fortress.  Nighttime.  Snow is falling gently as a stumbling figure shambles toward the woods, then falls onto the ground in utter defeat.  Staring up at the star-filled sky, we see that the fallen figure is none other than -------, who smiles sadly as both Fate, and the camera, close in.”

Lead 6: (Looking concerned) “Whelp, it seems my journey ends here.  What a wild ride.”  (To Showrunner) Hold on a second – did my character just die?!

Showrunner: (Grinning) Sure did!  I was very emotional writing it; the tears flowed freely the entire time.  I think you’ll enjoy filming it, too.

Lead 6: So I get killed off in Episode 1?!

Showrunner: Yep!  Definitely motivation for all the other characters to, you know, keep fighting the good fight. 

Lead 6: So I’m done here for good?!

Showrunner: Yes indeedy!  It’s been fun, byeeeee!  (Waves at Lead 6)

Lead 6: But you told me back in January that I’d be in Season 4!

Showrunner: And you are.  In Episode 1.  Byeeeee!  (Waves again)

Lead 6: (Tosses the script onto the pile and mumbles) Wish I’d known that before I relocated last year.  (Everyone else makes sympathetic noises)

Lead 5: Yeah, are there budget cuts or something we should be worried about?

Showrunner: Not at all!  (To Lead 6) It basically came down to the fact that you weren’t, how shall I put this, a “fan favorite.”

Lead 6: (Glares at Showrunner) You forgot my character was in the show again, didn’t you.

Showrunner: (Becomes focused on the script) Yes I did – shall we continue?

SEASON 4, EPISODE 3

Showrunner: “Scene 2.  Interior.  ------’s room.   ------ is seated at a table, piling wooden blocks in a symbolic gesture reflecting two of this season’s main themes when there is a smart rapping at the door.  ------ accidentally knocks over the blocks, again symbolically, walks over to the door to open it, and sees -------- on the other side.”  (Showrunner sets down the script, unobtrusively takes out a small box of popcorn, and begins snacking on it while watching Lead 3 and Lead 4 with intense glee)

Lead 4: “Oh, hi!”

Lead 3: “Hey there!  You busy?”

Lead 4: “Not at all – come on in!”

Showrunner: “-------- enters and jokingly slams the door shut; the two then flop casually onto two armchairs facing each other.” [CRUNCH-CRUNCH]

Lead 3: “So, that last assignment sure was a lot of fun!”

Lead 4: “I’ll say!  And I love that it gave us so many opportunities to bust our self-appointed leader’s chops.”  (Looks significantly at Lead 1, who fumes quietly)

Lead 3: “Well, busting chops is my specialty!  Plus we got to, you know, save the universe again and everything.  Pretty cool of us, I think.”

Lead 4: “Yeah; who knew saving the universe at least once a week would be both spiritually fulfilling and hilarious?”

Lead 3: “Right on!”  (Everyone with a script simultaneously turns to the next page) “You know, while we’re on the subject, I think it’s about time we moved on from goofing off non-stop and you – ” (As Lead 3 and Lead 4 lean forward to their respective scripts with extremely furrowed brows) “finally let me worship that hot, hot body of yours”?!  (Looks up confusedly at Showrunner, who nods vigorously with manic glee)

Lead 4: (Still staring at the script) “Oh baby, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to say the exact same thing – take me now”?!  (Also looks up confusedly at Showrunner) Are these the right lines?!

Showrunner: Of course they are – got your characters’ names attached to them, don’t they?

Lead 3: Yeah, but this isn’t us.  (Gestures to self and Lead 4) We’re the comic relief!

Lead 4: There has to be a mistake; these are the type of lines you usually write for those two!  (Point to Lead 1 and Lead 2)

Lead 1: (Smiling evilly at Lead 3 and Lead 4) I find this extremely hysterical.

Lead 2: Guess you two better start hitting the gym, huh.

Lead 1: (To Lead 2) Ooh, maybe with the heat on them now this’ll mean we get a break this season – doing love scenes are ten times more exhausting then pretending I can do hand-to-hand combat, any day.

Lead 2: No argument from me.

Lead 3: Hey, at least you two knew what you were getting into when you got cast as the attractive leads of a show with such unsubtle romantic undertones – I, however, did not sign up for naughty business when I auditioned for what I thought was just going to be a quirky clown character with several intriguing mini-arcs!

Lead 4: (To Showrunner) And I was supposed to be a one-off and then killed-off, but you called me back because you said the fans loved me so much!

Lead 6: Hm.  Must be nice.

Lead 4: (Winces) Sorry.  (Back to Showrunner) So when did “punching up the script” turn into “borderline softcore porn”?!

Showrunner: Relax: you know the love scenes I write are always extremely tasteful.  (Returns to the script) “-------- grabs ------, throws the latter onto the king size bed, and grabs a bottle of hot oil handily waiting on a lamp table as they passionately tear each other’s clothes off – ”

Lead 3: OH, BLAZES, NO!

Lead 4: My wife’s gonna kill me!

Showrunner: Don’t worry: there’ll be an intimacy coordinator there the whole time so everything’s on the up-and-up.

Lead 3: Not the point!  Neither of us agreed to these types of scenes in our contracts!

Showrunner: Well, you didn’t not agree to them, either.  (Both glare at Showrunner, who sighs) Fine, fine: I’ll cut the scene short and you won’t have to do any of that stuff.  Will that stave off the lawsuits your eyes are threatening?

Lead 3: Maybe.  It also makes zero sense for these characters, but I’ll be satisfied with no on-screen shenanigans.

Lead 4: And no kissing.  (To Lead 4) No offense; it’d just be too awkward.

Lead 3: None taken – I agree, and I don’t want your wife killing me, either.

Showrunner: Aw come on, watching people make out on-screen is so cathartic!

Lead 3 and Lead 4: NO!

Showrunner: (Sighs again and starts crossing out lines in the script) You win; it’ll just be heavily implied.  A lot of fans are going to be very disappointed, though.

Lead 3: Well, tell them that’s what fan fiction’s for!

Showrunner: Where do you think this idea came from?

Lead 4: Seriously?  Our characters got paired up in fan fiction?  (To Lead 3) I never played it that way; I thought we were just buddies, almost like siblings.

Lead 3: (Laughs ruefully) Pal, that’s where some of the most intense sagas there get started – not that I’ve actually read any of them…. (Sips water while looking everywhere else but at Lead 4)

Lead 1: As riveting as all these negotiations are, can we back to the actual reading before it’s time to start filming the season, please?

Lead 4: Why, are we upstaging you again?!

Lead 1: Yes!

Lead 4: Fair enough.

SEASON 4, EPISODE 10: SEASON FINALE

(Three quarters of the attendees have dozed off)

Showrunner: “Scene 257.  Interior.  A cozy living room.  A figure sits contemplatively in a chair facing a fireplace.”  (Looks up from the script and throws a piece of popcorn at Lead 7, who has been sleeping while leaning on folded arms on the table for almost the entire session) Oi!  That’s your cue!

Lead 7: (Startles awake and sits up) Huh?  What?  You killed off my character last season; I don’t even know what I’m doing here.

Showrunner: This is a flashback!

Lead 7: Oh.  Do you really need me, then?  Just use stock footage; not to sound disrespectful to everyone here, but I’m in the middle of a film shoot and don’t even care about this show anymore.

Showrunner: It’s a new flashback so we have to film it!  Read the line and collect your paycheck!

Lead 7: (Rubs tired eyes) Sure; something to do.  (Starts shifting through the pile of scripts to reach the bottom one; Lead 5 hands over a script open to the correct page) Thanks.

Lead 5: Don’t mention it – I got killed off two episodes ago and I’m just following along out of courtesy.

Lead 7: (Clears throat and reads flatly) “And so, as the black hole slowly devours our solar system, leaving Earth as the last sacrifice to its eternal greed, we come to that ultimate question that has defied the logic of ages: What truly is the meaning of life?”  (To Showrunner) If this is a flashback, when would my character ever have said this?  And to whom?  And where is this even supposed to be?!

Showrunner: And that is the question!

Lead 7: What?!

Showrunner: And now you’re done – you can go back to sleep.

Lead 7: (Hands the script back to Lead 5) Sounds like a plan.  (Lowers head and arms onto the table again and immediately falls back asleep)

SEVERAL HOURS LATER

Showrunner: “Scene 3,072.  Interior/Exterior.  ---- and ------ are on opposite sides of an open doorway in yet another symbolic expression of this season’s themes as a reality-ending storm rends the fabric of spacetime around them.”  (To Lead 1 and Lead 2) This means you have to scream at each other to be heard, by the way.

Lead 1: (Braces self) “This is it!”  (Most of the attendees suddenly wake up) “The end of all things!”

Lead 2: (Braces self) “That’s what you said at the last seven reality-ending storms!”

Lead 1: “And I meant it, every time!”

Lead 2: “Guess this is good-bye forever, then!”

Lead 1: “I just have to tell you one last thing before we part for eternity!”

Lead 2: “I know!  You don’t have to say a word!  I will always love you too, my love!”

Lead 1: “Well… I actually wanted to say that I finally realized that I like you more than love you, if you know what I mean!”

Lead 2: “…What?!”

Lead 1: “I’ve grown to respect and admire you as a person, so that transcends the whole romantic, physical part of our relationship and makes it feel a bit mutually exploitative, to be honest!”

Lead 2: “…What?!”

Lead 1: “I do still love you, though!  Just in the Platonic ideal sense, which shows that I have truly evolved as a human being!”

Lead 2: “We’ve been intimate for almost five years and you’re just figuring this out now?!”

Lead 1: “Because now is the end of all things!”  (To Showrunner) I’m sorry, I gotta stop you right there –

Showrunner: (Working on a bag of candy) Nope!  It’s almost over, so we’re finishing this uninterrupted!

Lead 1: (Grinds teeth while looking back at the script) “My only regret is that we failed to save the universe this time, and soon all space and time will be flushed down the galactic toilet that is a supermassive black hole!”

Lead 2: “I know!  And more importantly, all our friends’ll be gone, too!  We’re losing everyone we care about!”

Showrunner: “At that exact moment, -------- and ------ ride up in a superhyperspeed-powered motorcycle.”

Lead 1: Unbelievable – upstaged again!

Showrunner: Wait your turn!  “Ride up in a superhyperspeed-powered motorcycle.”

Lead 3: “Speak for yourselves, losers!  We created our own supermassive wormhole that’ll take us to an alternate Earth where we’ll be safe and never have to deal with these cosmological hijinks ever again!”

Lead 4: “Sorry – not sorry – there’s no room for the two of you to come with us!  So… it’s been real!”

Lead 3: “You and me against the multiverse, babe!”

Lead 4: “I am so turned on right now!”

Showrunner: “They sloppily make out with undying passion – ”

Lead 3 and Lead 4: NO!

Showrunner: Right.  (Crosses out more lines and writes new ones)  “It’s heavily implied that they will sloppily make out with undying passion after they arrive on the alternate Earth, and they rev off at faster-than-light speed to their new destiny.”

Lead 3 and Lead 4: “Whoooo.”

Showrunner: A little more enthusiasm would be nice.

Lead 3: (Turns a page ahead) Wait, that’s our last line?!

Showrunner: This season, yeah.

Lead 4: (Mutters to Lead 3) This series, I’ll bet.

Showrunner: What?

Lead 4: What?

Lead 1: (Holding head in pain) Can we please wrap this up?!

Lead 2: I second that: we were supposed to end hours ago, and the daycare meter’s been running well into overtime.

Showrunner: Do not rush art!  And your own interruptions are not helping the cause, either.  (Returns to the script) “---- and ------ stare at each other with profound meaning as reality collapses around them.”

Lead 2: “The end!”

Lead 1: “Or is it?!”

(Everyone still reading the script turns the page)

Showrunner: “Cut to title card: TO BE CONTINUED.”  (Sets down the script and looks around the room triumphantly) The End!  For this season.  So, what do you all think?

(Mostly silence, and soft snores from those who had fallen back into a doze)

Lead 1: It… may need to be workshopped a bit.

Lead 2: A lot.

Showrunner: Children, we start filming in a few weeks; I told you there’s no room in my tightly plotted scripts for major revisions!

Lead 3: Then I’ve only got one thing left to say: brace yourself for the backlash.

Showrunner: Oh.  Right.  That.

ONE YEAR LATER

(In the same conference room with almost all the same people as last time; nearly everyone looks dour)

Showrunner: Hiiiiiii, everyone!  I hope you all had a great hiatus!  (There is a chorus of “Hmmmmm”s) So!  The reviews are in and by now you’ve all heard the, how shall I put this, not-so-great –

Lead 4: Abysmal.

Showrunner: – could-have-been-better response, which of course is no reflection on the hard work of every single person in this room.  You should all be proud of yourselves, yaaaay!  (Claps alone)

Lead 6: Can I just say that this was the easiest paycheck I ever earned?  I had the best time, and the fans even wanted me back!

Lead 5: I envy you so much, you have no idea.

Lead 1: (To Showrunner) Regarding the elephant in the room: I noticed this time we neither got scripts during hiatus or on our way in here.

Lead 3: (Holds a hand up to one side as if whispering a secret that everyone can hear) Spoiler alert: there aren’t any.

Showrunner: There are too!  I wrote a beautiful and moving Season 5 that will make the world weep!  (They all stare at Showrunner) But, I got word from the studio this morning that the show’s been cancelled so, yeah.  No Season 5, unfortunately, children.

Lead 2: Yeah, we pretty much all figured that was the only logical outcome for this situation.

Lead 4: Good thing I recently was cast as the lead in an exciting new adventure series that critics already are comparing to this show, “when it was good,” so I guess you would’ve had to kill off my character this season anyway.

Lead 3: (To Lead 4) Aw, you got the role?  Congratulations!

Lead 4: Thanks!  They’re still looking to cast a few more regulars if you’re interested, and can take time during the other five shows you’re on now.

Lead 3: Send me the info – I grab all the shows I can get!

Lead 1: (To Lead 2) They never stop, do they?  It’s like a compulsion.

Lead 2: I physically cannot care any less than I do at this very moment.

Showrunner: Some good news, though: we got nominated again for lots of awards, including – you guessed it – Best Actor, yay!

Lead 1: I’m frankly amazed myself.

Lead 2: So am I.  (Lead 1 glares at the other) What?  Admit it: this year we both checked out before principal photography even began.

Lead 1: (Looks away shiftily) I thought that was an unspoken understanding for all of us….

Lead 3: Um, not those of us who actually take our craft seriously!  Unworthy.

Lead 4: (To Showrunner) So: any reason this is a meeting and not an e-mail?

Showrunner: Glad you asked!  We may not be able to film Season 5 per se, but there’s no reason why the storylines and most of the dialogue can’t be salvaged and plugged into an amazing new series that I want everyone here to be a part of – (Everyone else in the room stands up and leaves) Rude.  Eh, who needs them?  I can always post it in fan fiction.

Story 455: Ode to The [Destructive] Spotted Lanternfly

             (Poet recites while gently strumming a lyre; Chorus stands nearby at the ready)

 Poet:   Hark!  To my tale of The Spotted Lanternfly,

                         Almost as pretty as The Butterfly,

                         But with a far worse reputation.

             Chorus: Rightly so.

             Poet:    It neither bites, nor stings, nor gets in our way,

                         Yet everywhere, to my dismay,

                         Are calls for the species’ eradication.

             Chorus: They destroy crops and ruin so many trees.

             Poet:    Oh woe!  That affairs have come to this,

                         For what is, at worst, an inconvenience,

                         Genocide is deemed the only solution.

 Chorus: We’d never be able to wipe them all out; just every last one in sight is what’s needed.

 Poet:    How can we call ourselves “civilized”

             When an unaggressive insect is demonized

             And its annihilation is labelled as “duty”?

 Chorus: Crops: destroyed.  Trees: ruined.  What part of this are you not getting?

 Poet:    Will no one speak for The Spotted Lanternfly?

             Will no one fight for their right to get by?

             They are entitled to life as all others.

 Chorus: They are an invasive species that hitchhiked their way here and contribute absolutely nothing to this continent’s ecosystem.

 Poet:    Must we cause extinction yet again?

             Have we not learned our lesson?

             Can we not share this planet with –

 Chorus: There’s a swarm going through your vineyard as we speak.

 (Poet stares at Chorus, gently sets down the lyre, and picks up a flamethrower)

 Poet:    That’s it – they’re going down.

Story 434: Playing for Your Life Is Ridiculous

 [Inspired by the recent Batman movie and the Riddler tie-in Web site]

(In an abandoned warehouse, Hostage is bound to a chair with a duct-taped mouth while Villain paces impatiently nearby, regularly checking a wristwatch.  Suddenly, Vigilante and Sidekick crash through the one glass panel in the ceiling and take some time rappelling down to the floor because their ropes are not long enough.  Villain and Hostage side-eye each other briefly as the other two finally leap the last 10 feet, tuck and roll to a stop, flip their respective tangled-up capes out of the way, and strike the Hero Pose with hands on hips, heads flung back, and feet planted firmly apart)

Vigilante: Aha!  And so, we have foiled your evil plan and found you at last, tucked away in your secret lair, aha!

Sidekick: Take that, scumbag!

Villain: …This isn’t my secret lair, and I specifically left the front door open so you could come in that way – didn’t you get my voicemail?

Vigilante: (Slightly tilts head to see the open front door, then turns back to Villain) So that’s exactly what you were expecting we’d do, and so – foiled!

Sidekick: To the max!

Villain: (Mutters) Cripes.  (Louder) Can we get down to it, please?

Vigilante: I thought you’d never ask!

Sidekick: Yeah, quit stallin’!

Villain: (To Vigilante while motioning to Sidekick) You know, this is why I expressly didn’t invite that one – never mind, forget it, moving on.  (Strikes the Villain Pose with hunched shoulders, twiddling fingers, and sinister expression) And so, my fine antagonists –

Vigilante: Actually, we’re the protagonists – you’re the antagonist.

Villain: We’re all our own protagonists and each other’s antagonists!  (Cracks neck while calming down) Ahem.  And so, you have come here in a pitiful attempt to rescue this – (Gestures to Hostage) creature in my clutches, have you?

Vigilante: Why, yes, that’s the reason we’re all here today – I thought that was understood.

Villain: For the love of – deep breaths, deep breaths – now, here’s the deal: I have placed several large sticks of fireworks under this chair.  (Grandly gestures to said fireworks piled high under Hostage’s chair)

Vigilante and Sidekick: Gasp!

Villain: Precisely!  (Holds up a detonator) And I will set them off at a moment’s notice –

Vigilante and Sidekick: Double gasp!

Villain: However – !

Vigilante: Oh thank goodness.

Villain: I am willing to spare this miserable wretch’s trip to the Moon, if you can answer these questions three!

Vigilante: Oh no!  Wait, why?

Villain: Mwahahaha – sorry, what?

Vigilante: Why would you let anybody go just like that? 

Sidekick: Yeah, you already got `em helpless and set these things up hours ago – why not just let `er rip?

(Hostage shakes head vigorously while straining against the chair and yelling through the duct tape)

Villain: Come on, it’s my whole shtick!

Vigilante: Then why do we have to answer the questions; shouldn’t you be making your victim answer and we just come in as an assist?

Villain: You know darn well that you’re my real target, so don’t play coy with me!  And so, let us begin: Question 1 –

Vigilante: (Holds up a finger) Hang on, before we start –

Villain: OMG, WHAT?

Vigilante: I’m not really good at these things.

Sidekick: Yeah, I’m better at logic puzzles myself, like “If a train is leaving City A at 200 kph and a train is leaving City B at 230 kph – ”

Villain: One more word out of you and you’re playing catch with a rocket booster here.  (Sidekick zips up) Now, Question 1: What’s black and white and read all over?

(Vigilante and Sidekick stare blankly at Villain; Hostage starts struggling and yelling again)

Vigilante: Could you repeat the question, please?

Villain: Seriously? That’s a softball one to lure you into a false sense of security, and you don’t know it?!

Vigilante: Give me a minute!

(Hostage’s yells and struggles get louder)

Villain: (Looks down at the noise) Well that’s getting annoying.  (Rips off the duct tape)

Hostage: OWWWWWW!!!!

Villain: (Winces) Ooh, sorry – I always forget how ripping off a bandage feels for something like this.  So, you have something to share with the group?

Hostage: (After working out jaw) A newspaper!

Vigilante: Huh?

Hostage: That’s the answer!  A newspaper!

Vigilante: Newspapers aren’t red – they’re just black and white.

Hostage: What?!

Villain: (To Vigilante) It’s a homophone, you dolt!  R-E-A-D, not R-E-D!  Although, that is part of the joke, so I can see where the confusion lies.

Sidekick: I thought it was a riddle, not a joke?

Villain: (Picks up a firework and shakes it at Sidekick) Don’t make me toss one of these at you; I’m saving them for our friend here.  (Throws it back under the chair) Anyway, that really shouldn’t count since you – (Points to Vigilante) were the one supposed to answer, but I’ll allow it.

Hostage: It’s my life at stake here, I should be allowed to pitch in!

Villain: Don’t abuse my generosity.  Now, Question 2: What word has all the letters in it?

(Vigilante and Sidekick hesitate a bit, then huddle up and begin whispering)

Hostage: (Jumping in the chair) Ooh – ooh – ooh –

Villain: Shut it; let them work it out for themselves.

Hostage: But why?

Villain: I’m getting invested in their mental struggles.

(Vigilante and Sidekick triumphantly turn back to the other two)

Vigilante: Antidisestablishmentarianism.

(Hostage slumps)

Villain: What – how – who – that doesn’t have all the letters in it!  Where’s the Z?  Where’s the Q?!

Sidekick: Where’s the omega?

Vigilante: (To Sidekick) It was your idea!

Sidekick: I heard it somewhere!

Villain: It’s one of the longest words in the English language, you twits!  Doesn’t mean it has all the letters in it!

Vigilante and Sidekick: (In realization) Ohhhhh….

Hostage: The answer’s “alphabet.”

Villain: (Points to Hostage) Yes!  Thank you!  Someone here has a brain!  Or at least heard that one before.

Vigilante: (Furrowed brow) I don’t get it.

Villain: No surprise there.  All right, final question and we can all go home; I’ll make this one really easy for you by using one you must have heard before.  Question 3: What travels the world but stays in the corner?

Vigilante: (Jumps up and down while raising a hand) Ooh, I know this one!

Villain: (Smiling excitedly and nodding) Yes?

Vigilante: A clock!

Villain: (Smile falls) No!

Hostage: (Rolls head back) Arghhhh….

Vigilante: Sure it is – well, I guess I should’ve said “grandfather clock”: it stands in the corner but travels as the Earth rotates.  So, it travels the world through space.

Villain: (Mouth is momentarily agape) Unbelievable.  Three gimmes, and you couldn’t even get one!

Vigilante: Sure we did, we got that one!

Villain: No you didn’t!  (To Hostage) You – what was the answer?!

Hostage: (Tiredly) A stamp.

Villain: (Back to the other two) You see!  This one lives in the real world!

Vigilante: (Light dawning) Ah, I get it now – that’s pretty clever.

Villain: Gee, thanks.

Vigilante: Mine was still right, though.

Villain: No it wasn’t!  There’s only one answer!

Vigilante: In your opinion – you asked a question that has multiple answers, so we shouldn’t be penalized just for choosing the one you didn’t pick.

Sidekick: Yeah, and technically, all we had to do was answer your questions three – you never said anything about answering them “correctly.”

(Villain's eyes bulge out in rage, then grabs a firework to throw at Sidekick)

Vigilante: (Stands in Hero Pose in front of Villain) Now-now, I see how this can be frustrating so we’ll make a compromise: ask us one more question, and this time make it really hard.

Hostage: (Practically standing with the chair) NO!  No, we are done here!  (To Vigilante) Either punch out this creep like you should’ve done in the first place – (To Villain) or set off the freakin’ fireworks so at least I’ll be blasted far, far away from here; just somebody do something to end this!

Villain: (Tosses away the detonator, uses a pocket knife to cut the ropes, and pushes Hostage toward Vigilante and Sidekick) Go on, get out of here – I’m disgusted by all of you right now.

Hostage: Hey, I got the answers right!

Villain: (Sinks dejectedly into the chair) Yeah, but you were supposed to be a quiet little victim throughout all this – the whole game’s been ruined.  (Waves the other three off) Now leave me be; I’m exhausted.  Unless you want to take advantage of my moment of weakness and turn me into the authorities?

Vigilante: Nah – you’ve clearly suffered enough at our hands.

Story 433: Video Game Racers

 (Downtime during a family party, Older Cousin wanders into the hosting family’s den and sees Younger Cousin sitting on the couch and playing a video game on the TV)

Older Cousin: Neat – which game is this?

Younger Cousin: (Continues zooming around the virtual course) “Surpassing Siblings Car Race: Grand Prize.”

Older Cousin: (Watches for a bit) Those characters look familiar….

Younger Cousin: Oh yeah, it’s the latest in the “Surpassing Siblings” series.  (Pauses the race, navigates through the system’s main menu, and retrieves a retro-looking, extremely pixelated game) Here’s a version using the original images: they labeled it “Classic Surpassing Siblings: Car Race.”

Older Cousin: “Classic”?!  But I played those games when I was a… kid.

Younger Cousin: (Resumes the first game) If it makes you feel any better, they’ll probably label this version “Classic” by the time I’m your age, which’ll be here before you know it.

Older Cousin: That does help, thanks.

Younger Cousin: (Finishes the race, picks up another game controller, and holds it out to Older Cousin) Would you like to play with me?  It gets a little routine playing against the bots, and my parents discourage me from going online too much and playing against potential trolls.

Older Cousin: (Slowly takes the controller and sits next to Younger Cousin on the couch) I don’t know – I haven’t played much of anything in literally decades, and never with this type of controller….

Younger Cousin: It hasn’t changed too much over the years.  (Points to the buttons) That one makes you go forward, that one makes you turn, this and that make you jump, and this and that make you throw things at the other racers.

Older Cousin: (Nods while examining the controller) OK, cool, I think it’s all coming back to me now.  (Looks up at the screen as Younger Cousin navigates the menu) Which character should I pick?

Younger Cousin: I usually go with Luis, so if you don’t mind me sticking with him then anyone else is fair game.

Older Cousin: (Navigates through the menu) I think I’ll go with… Baroness Berry.  I always liked her sass.

Younger Cousin: (Navigates through the menu) Is it all right with you we race on Topsy-Turvy-Twisty Trail?  It’s not too advanced: there’s only one wormhole hidden on the track.

Older Cousin: …That sounds just fine.

Younger Cousin: (Sets up the course) All right – first one who does three laps wins.  You ready?

Older Cousin: (Muttering while leaning forward on the couch, controller at the ready) Yep, it’s all coming back to me….

 SURPASSING SIBLINGS CAR RACE: GRAND PRIZE

(Luis and Baroness Berry rev their little cars’ engines at the starting grid, surrounded by eight other competitors)

Baroness Berry: (Holding a shiny ball; to Luis) Hey, I don’t remember this in the original game; what is it?

Luis: Glitter bomb.  Really throws everyone for a loop when it goes off.

Baroness Berry: Oh.  (Looks closer at the ball) Sparkly.

 3 – 2 – 1 – GO!

Luis: And we’re off!  (Zooms away down the track and immediately overtakes everyone in the race)

Baroness Berry: (Slowly moves forward, then begins to drift to the right) Hang on – (Tries to turn left, instead turns more right) Wait a sec – (Crashes into a wall, then starts sliding along it)

Robot Player 1: (While speeding by, slows down long enough to toss a projectile at Baroness Berry) Papaya peel!

Baroness Berry: Huh?  (Is spun around in tight circles for several seconds)

Luis: (Slows down while passing by) Just toss your glitter bomb or anything else in your stash as these guys pass.  (Activates a rocket booster to fly over other racers and make up the lost seconds)

Baroness Berry: I’m still trying to figure out how to go in a straight line!  (Starts moving forward and begins picking up speed) Yes – (Passes several racers as they cross a lagoon) Yes – (A sharp turn in a sudden corn field comes up; Baroness Berry tries to turn with it but crashes into a wall again) No – (Slides along the wall, then starts driving in large circles in the middle of the track) No –

Robot Player 2: (Speeding by) Papaya peel!

Baroness Berry: (Is spun around in tight circles for several seconds, then throws the glitter bomb where Robot Player 2 is no longer) Revenge!  (The glitter burst all over the screen but no other racers are affected, since they all are on the other side of the track) So much for that.  (Starts driving in large circles again) No –

Luis: (Passing by) Try hitting the top button.

Baroness Berry: I am hitting the top button!  Why won’t this thing steer straight when I tell it to?!  (Starts to drive diagonally across the track, running over grass and random objects) Does it still count if I go this way?

Luis: (Using dry ice and dish detergent to confound and scatter the other racers) Not sure – never took that way before.

Baroness Berry: (Crashes into Luis on the other side of the track; both spin around) Oh, hello there.

Luis: Hi.  (Dry ices Baroness Berry)

Baroness Berry: Hey!  I’m losing anyway!

Luis: Sorry – force of habit.  (Zooms away)

Baroness Berry: (Moves forward, immediately crashing into a wall) Oh come on!

Robot Player 3: (Speeding by) Papaya peel!

Baroness Berry: (Is spun around in tight circles for several seconds, then zooms after Robot Player 3 and tosses a glitter bomb at the latter’s car; bull’s-eye) Aha!  Take that!  Hey, I think I finally got the hang of – (Crashes into a wall)

Luis: (Crosses the finish line to Robot Audience applause; to Baroness Berry) Not bad – let’s see our scores.

 1^ST PLACE: LUIS – 5,365 POINTS

-

-

-

10^TH PLACE: BARONESS BERRY – 4 POINTS

 Older Cousin: (Raises arms in triumph) Woo-hoo!  More than zero!

Younger Cousin: Yeah, you got a good shot in at the end there.

Older Cousin: (Sets the controller down on the coffee table and rubs eyes) Thanks, but I’m really feeling my age right now.  I can’t believe I couldn’t even steer straight!

Younger Cousin: Well, like everything else, it takes practice even if you’ve done something similar to it before.  You still got most of the basics down, so don’t be too hard on yourself.

Older Cousin: Thanks, kid.  (Stretches stiff muscles and creaking bones) Whelp, stuff like this certainly put things in perspective.

Younger Cousin: That it does.  (Starts navigating the menu) Wanna go again?

Older Cousin: (Snatches up the controller from the table) You betcha.