Story 454: Creating a Fan-Favorite Franchise

            (Writer 1 sits at a kitchen table doodling in a notebook with one hand while propped up on the other; sighing, the latest doodle is “IDEA???????? L”.  Writer 2 suddenly enters the room and plops a stack of DVD covers on the table)

Writer 2: I’ve got it!  At last, I’ve got it!

Writer 1: (Straightens up in shock) Dude, I didn’t even hear the door open, how’d you get in here?!

Writer 2: We’re writing partners: our lives are forever one now.  (Pulls out a chair and sits)

Writer 1: Ummmmm….

Writer 2: So: want to hear my brilliant flash of genius?

Writer 1: (Resignedly tosses the pen aside and sits back) Sure, fine – anything would be more than the bupkis I’ve got lately.

Writer 2: Yes, we’ve both been in a bit of a dry spell since our trial-by-fire on the late-late-late-late night show –

Writer 1: (Shudders) I never want to think about that debacle ever again: it should’ve been our big break, but by the end if they hadn’t fired us I’d’ve quit.

Writer 2: The timing of that was unfortunate; however, it was a blessing in disguise in that it gave us – and by “us,” I mean “me” – time to come up with the brilliant flash of genius.

Writer 1: Oh yes, all that time to spend all my lack of money on all my bills.  And the flash of genius is…?

Writer 2: We write our own show!

Writer 1: That’s literally been the plan this whole time.  Bupkis has been the result!

Writer 2: Sorry, let me rephrase that: we write our own hit show!

Writer 2: Well yeah, everyone wants a hit show.  Reality interferes.

Writer 2: Yes, but the ones who do write a hit show basically stumble onto it by accident with talented writing and wonderful actors and fantastic cinematography and inspired music and whatever – to my knowledge, no one has actually cracked the code for deliberately creating a hit show.  Until now.

Writer 1: (Rubs tired eyes) Let me guess, you?

Writer 2: How’d you know?

Writer 1: What?!  Just – go ahead and tell me what you so cleverly deduced.

Writer 2: Gladly.  (Holds up one of the DVD covers) Remember this series?

Writer 1: Who doesn’t?

Writer 2: (Sets that down and holds up another cover) Uh-huh – and this?

Writer 1: Hated it, but yes.

Writer 2: (Sets that down and holds up another cover) And this?

Writer 1: Never even looked at my spec script for a Season 3 episode, so definitely yeah.

Writer 2: (Sets that down and holds up another cover) And, the ultimate in recent television classics, this?

Writer 1: Overrated, but yes.

Writer 2: “Overra – ”?  This was a piece of PURE ARTISTRY!

Writer 1: Artistry, pretension, tomato, to – mah- to.

Writer 2: (Through gritted teeth) Agree to disagree.  (Gently sets down the cover and straightens the newly created pile) The point is, these all contain elements of a magic formula that, when executed properly, creates that most coveted item of all in the entertainment industry.

Writer 1: Money?

Writer 2: Well, obviously, that’s the endgame – what leads to infinite amounts of that is the coveted item: Fan Obsession.

Writer 1: (Sits up straighter) Go on.

Writer 2: The strategy is simple: all we need to do is, take the best elements of these series – (Waves hands over the pile) and, um….

Writer 1: (Nods) Steal.

Writer 2: Pay homage to what makes them work so well.  If we combine enough of them and throw in one or two actual original ideas, no one will even notice the rip-offs!

Writer 1: Uh-huh.  (Starts casually sorting through the covers) And that’s it, huh?  Instant hit?

Writer 2: We-ell, that’s best-case-scenario.  We might have “Cult Favorite” status at first and nearly get cancelled several times, but the most important part is to capture fan devotion immediately.  They will be the ones powering this machine long-term, and once the studio realizes our work is at least a decade’s-long franchise they’ll practically throw the money at us.

Writer 1: (Gnaws lip) I don’t know – it sounds great in theory, but being too dependent on the fans to keep… whatever this’ll be, going, just means down the road we’ll have to start doing fan-service stories and classify the scripts as Top Secret and film misleading scenes and fake storylines and actually talk to them at conventions, and by the time the finale rolls around they’ll hate everything we do, turn on us, and curse our names.

Writer 2: Not necessarily, and even so it’ll be too late by then – we’ll already have the money!

Writer 1: You make an excellent point.

Writer 2: Great!  (Picks up Writer 1 by the elbows and tosses the latter onto the living room couch) Now, your job is to watch or rewatch all these hit shows and take lots and lots of notes – we’ll compare when you’re done.  (Brings in the DVDs, Writer 1’s notepad, and the pen, and tosses them onto the couch) These are only Season 1s, so let me know as you finish and I’ll keep supplying you with the rest.

Writer 1: But – but – but that’ll take me years!

Writer 2: (On the way out) Better start now!

 SIX MONTHS LATER

(Writer 1 and Writer 2 are seated at a park bench)

Writer 2: See!  I knew you were exaggerating.

Writer 1: (Face is pallid and there are bags under the eyes) This is the first day I’ve breathed the outdoor air in… what year is it?

Writer 2: Doesn’t matter – what are your findings?

Writer 1: (Shakily takes out a notepad that has writing all over the pages, including the margins) OK, common elements I found in each hit series….

Writer 2: Yes?

Writer 1: Number one: Grit.

Writer 2: Huh?

Writer 1: The material.  It’s gritty.  Extreme violence, rampant drug use, relatives who lethally hate each other, way too much sex that does absolutely nothing to advance the plot, exploitation of mental illness, showcasing the worst of humanity with no real suggestions for improvement –

Writer 2: Yes-yes-yes, I’ve already got all that – what else?

Writer 1: (Flips a page on the notepad) Lots of cursing.  As in, so many f-bombs.

Writer 2: Goes without saying.

Writer 1: (Drags a finger down the page) It either needs to be snowing all the time or over 100° Fahrenheit, but that can change from season-to-season or even mid-season.

Writer 2: Good, didn’t catch that one.

Writer 1: That also means we need to film on location.

Writer 2: Such as…?

Writer 1: All of them.  More as the budget increases.

Writer 2: (Nods) Yeah, that’ll finally get me my trip to Fiji, sweet.

Writer 1: (Flips another page) The leads at least have to be gorgeous – everyone else can be, you know, average-looking.

Writer 2: (Dismissively waves hand) That’s down the road – we’ll give notes to the casting director.

Writer 1: Hiring a big name ties into that, then.

Writer 2: About that: it goes against my instincts, but try not to write with anyone particular in mind, in case they’re not available or really don’t want to be in this; the whole concept’ll be ruined if we base it on someone who winds up not being there.

Writer 1: (Squeezes in a note on the crowded page) Gotcha.  OK, ummm…. (Flips another page) Ooh: there has to be a mystery introduced in the pilot that even we don’t know the answer to, but we’ll have 10 years to figure it out.  Maybe.

Writer 2: I did have something similar.  (Pulls out a notepad and flips through the pages) Ah yes: basically, get them hooked in Episode 1 on something that’ll be brought up sporadically throughout the series, then either never resolve it or resolve it in a way that leaves it as a problem for one or multiple spin-off series.

Writer 1: Didn’t even consider the possibility of spin-offs; intriguing.

Writer 2: Well, we are developing a franchise here: it can’t just end with the series finale, that’s too finite.

Writer 1: Makes sense.  What else you got?

Writer 2: Oh, let’s see…. (Flips a page) You’ll like this: two-to-three romantic pairings and/or triangles dragged out for years and years.  The fan fiction possibilities will be astronomical.

Writer 1: (Squeezes in more notes) Excellent point – fan fiction is the best-kept secret ingredient to franchise longevity.

Writer 2: I know, and I love reading the especially smutty ones with random pairings I never even thought of! 

Writer 1: I’d say you’re strange, but who am I to judge?

Writer 2: Exactly.  Well, I think we’re off to a good start here – want to get into actually writing the thing now or let this digest for a few more months?

Writer 1: Quick question: audience-wise, you want to gear this toward the 14-and-up bracket or Mature Audiences?

Writer 2: What do you think?

Writer 1: (Writes on the notepad) Mature Audiences it is.

ELEVEN YEARS LATER

(On a beach, Writer 1 and Writer 2 relax in lounge chairs watching the ocean as the sun gloriously sets in front of them)

Writer 1: You know, from here, I can almost not hear the masses typing how much we ruined our own show.

Writer 2: You knew the deal going in: in exchange for their love at the beginning, the fans eventually turn that love into hatred at the end.

Writer 1: Never quite prepared when it happens, though.

Writer 2: (Uses feet to play with the sand a bit) To be fair, I suppose character assassinating all their favorites and making multi-season struggles come to absolutely nothing when we blew up the entire fictional planet in the last frame of the series was a bit much on our part.

Writer 1: Yeah – guess we went a little overboard there.  I was so focused on the other hit shows’ beginnings and prime years that I forgot to pay closer attention to the few endings people were sort-of happy with.

Writer 2: I share the blame in that as well.  Typical fatal flaw of success: not knowing how to end a good thing.

Writer 1: Hm.  (Stares at the crashing ocean waves for a few moments before turning back to Writer 2) We should write a satisfying ending before starting our next hit series, then.

Writer 2: Waaaaay ahead of you.

Story 453: Failed Inspection Fallout

             (In a Motor Vehicles inspection bay, Friend 1 and Friend 2 wait in a nearby roped-off area)

Friend 1: So, we’re making pretty good time today, I think.  Sorry you had to come with me to drop off the loaner and pick up the old girl – (Gestures to the car currently getting a physical by a technician) from the repair shop, but at least we can go to the beach right from here instead of having to take the extra time to come back and pick you up and then go.  We should get a spot right on the ocean at this rate.

Friend 2: (Typing a work e-mail on the phone to pass the time) Uh-huh.  You know you could’ve avoided all that if you’d brought the car in for inspection earlier in the month instead of leaving it last-minute, yes?

Friend 1: It is not last-minute; I’ve got a whole `nother week before the sticker expires!  And I was going to bring it in earlier, but life happened, and then the Service Engine light decided to make its stage debut – couldn’t exactly leave that on, bold as brass, when I brought it here, now could I?

Friend 2: And then the shop found about six other things that needed to be replaced a year ago.

Friend 1: It was still safe to drive!

Friend 2: Yeah, a year ago.  You’ve had so many parts replaced, your car’s turning into the Ship of Theseus.

Friend 1: I… don’t know anyone named Theseus, what?

Friend 2: (Finishes the e-mail and finally turns to Friend 1) It’s a paradox: Theseus with the minotaur and the labyrinth and abandoning Ariadne who helped him with all that  –

Friend 1: Oh yeah, that dude.

Friend 2: – had a ship that took him around for those shenanigans, but gradually every single plank was replaced so at some point, could you say that the ship was even the original ship anymore?

Friend 1: (Tilts head to think) …In spirit?

Friend 2: Forget it; bottom line is, you’ve had so many repairs done that you probably should trade it in before it gets any worse.

Friend 1: You hush your mouth – it still runs fine, and I just got brand-new brakes and semi-brand-new what’s-it arms and sort-of new windshield wipers and passably new tires so it’s absolutely perfect right now exactly the way it is!

(Technician slaps a “REJECTED” sticker on the car’s windshield; Friend 1’s head whips around at the sound and unblinkingly stares at the glaring red-and-black notice)

Friend 1: [Deadly silence]

Friend 2: (In a low voice) Uh-oh….

Friend 1: [Deadly silence]

Technician: (To Friend 1) Can I speak to you for a few moments, please?

Friend 1: (To Friend 2, in a semi-choked voice) Would you excuse me while I deal with this travesty?

Friend 2: Just remember to breathe.

Friend 1: Yessss s’mother.  (Exits the waiting area and passes the car, patting the hood lightly as it weeps) There-there, baby – Momma’s gonna get this allll straightened out.  (To Technician) Yes, my good state worker, what seems to be the confusion here?

Technician: You’re gonna have to bring the car back for inspection.  (Hands over several forms) Read the pamphlet, follow the instructions, and bring the car back after you’ve completed a drive cycle.

Friend 1: Forgive my diminished mental comprehension that apparently has struck me all of a sudden, but at the moment your words bear little meaning to me – this car is in perfect condition; better, even, since I literally just drove it in from the repair shop!

Technician: Well, that’s the problem.

Friend 1: But the wonderful service techs there repaired it so beautifully!

Technician: I’m sure they did, but they also shut off the battery which reset the on-board diagnostic system and now we can’t do a reading on it for the inspection.

Friend 1: Those jerks!

Technician: The battery’s always turned off so they don’t get electrocuted while working on the car.

Friend 1: I retract my slander.  So now what?

Technician: Like I said, read the pamphlet so you know what to do to complete a drive cycle – you can check your car’s manual, too – and bring it back for inspection after that’s done.  You get an extra month for it to pass.  (Friend 1 stares blankly at the forms) OK?  Can you leave now so we can continue with the miles-long line that we get here all day every day?

Friend 1: (Looks up blankly) Huh?  Oh.  Right…. (Blankly gets into the car, buckles up, and nearly drives away)

Friend 2: (Scrambles out of the waiting area and into the passenger seat) Hold-on-hold-on-hold-on – (Manages to buckle up as Friend 1 speeds out of the inspection bay and autopilots through the traffic jam leaving the parking lot) You gonna be all right?  Want me to drive us to the beach?

Friend 1: (Stopped at a traffic light) It failed?  I’ve never failed inspection in my entire driving life…. (Pats the dashboard soothingly as the car momentarily stalls) It’s OK, baby, it’s not your fault.

Friend 2: Are you talking to the car?

Friend 1: (Suddenly snaps out of it as the light turns green and they continue on the road) Wait a minute, it’s not my fault, either!  Why didn’t anyone at the shop tell me to wait before taking the car in for inspection?!

Friend 2: Probably because no else does that.

Friend 1: I can’t be the only one!  And the sticker’s right there, date and all!  (Gestures with one hand at the inspection sticker, notices the “DETCEJER” above it, and shakes fist at it) And now I’ve got a modern-day scarlet letter!  Word.

Friend 2: I don’t think it’s their job to monitor your inspection schedule.

Friend 1: Well – then – I am going to write them a very sternly worded SUGGESTION!

Friend 2: Splendid.  The beach is in the opposite direction, by the way.

Friend 1: FIDDLESTICKS!  (Plows through a U-turn while yelling out the window) Out of the way!  I’m driving a failed-inspection car so I’ve got nothing to lose!

Friend 2: (Head buried in hands to block the view) Please let us make it there in one piece.

(At the beach, Friend 2 is reading a book while relaxed in a chair under the umbrella while Friend 1, sitting on a blanket, agitatedly reads the failed-inspection paperwork while scrolling through a phone)

Friend 2: You know, the sun is shining brightly, the beach is basically clean, the ocean is beautifully crashing itself onto the shore, the out-of-school children and their adults are mostly behaving themselves, and you’re not taking in any of it because of one minor inconvenience.

Friend 1: (Turns slowly in horror to Friend 2) “Inconvenience”?  “Minor”?

Friend 2: Yeah – I read the papers on the way here and you really only have to drive the car on the highway a bit, stop-and-go a few times, and let it sit overnight; you’re practically there now, I bet.

Friend 1: Did you also read the part where I can still receive a citation if I let it go past the end of this month?!

Friend 2: (Eyebrows knot in confusion) Don’t remember that – it said you have until the end of next month now, where’s you see that other bit?

Friend 1: Here!  (Holds up the phone showing the Motor Vehicles’ site detailing failed inspections) The scarlet word won’t save me – I can get pulled over and thrown into jail at any moment!

Friend 2: Hardly – you’d probably just get fined.

Friend 1: Not feeling better!

Friend 2: (Starts burying feet in the sand) Face it, you’re just upset because you failed something that basically was avoidable if the timing was better and you’d known what might happen, and you now have to spend extra time, money, and gas to have it resolved.

Friend 1: (Returns to reading the forms) Those facts are not in dispute.  (Lowers the papers with a sudden slam) And now I have to wait on that super-long line AGAIN!

Friend 2: (Shrugs while sipping water) Go early in the morning.

Friend 1: And sacrifice my sleep?!  (Gasps) And what if it FAILS again?!  What am I gonna do then?!  How many times can I fail inspection before something happens?!  (Suddenly stands and runs into the ocean) This whole week is ruined!  (Dives into the water and starts punching the waves as fellow beachgoers cheer)

Friend 2: (Returns to reading the book) Your own worst enemy – ooh, the butler actually did do it, should’ve known that was coming.

 ONE WEEK LATER

(In the Motor Vehicles inspection bay, the car is being reinspected as Friend 1 bites nails while standing in the waiting area)

Technician: (Scrapes off the stickers and adds a new one dated two years in the future) You’re all set – have a good day!

Friend 1: (Yanks nails out of mouth) Wait – that’s it?

Technician: Yep!  And as an added bonus, since it’s barely 7 in the morning I’m happy for you for the next five minutes!

Friend 1: (Leaves the waiting area) No, wait, you probably don’t remember me from last week –

Technician: Nope!

Friend 1: (Hands over papers) My car failed inspection then, so these said I have to bring them back now – isn’t there something else that needs to be done for this, like balloons and streamers or something?

Technician: Sure.  (Takes the papers, crumbles them into a ball, and tosses that into a nearby trash can) Sweet!  Three points!  (Turns back to Friend 1) Seriously: get outta here now.

Friend 1: OK, thanks!  (Dives into the car and speeds off)

Technician: (Turns back to face the entrance to the bay; smile drops when seeing the ginormous line that was not there several minutes ago) And so it continues….

Friend 1: (Driving back home, rubs the dashboard soothingly) It’s all right, it’s over now…. (Cell phone rings; Friend 1 answers it on speaker) Hey, what’s up?

Friend 2: (Voice) So, what’s the verdict?  Pass or fail again?

Friend 1: How’d you know I’d’ve been there and had it done by now?

Friend 2: I know you.

Friend 1: Smug.  It passed, woo-hoo!

Friend 2: Thank goodness – now we can all breathe in peace.

Friend 1: Oh hardy-ha-ha, you’re no help whatsoever.

Friend 2: Hey, I was there the first time!  Only because we had plans for later, but still.

Friend 1: Yeah, yeah.  Anyway, you’ll be relieved to know the Ship of Theseus is still sailing smoothly; I have a new sticker that will ward off the well-intentioned monitors for the next two years; and – (Eyes cut over to the dashboard) and –

Friend 2: And?

Friend 1: AND THE SERVICE ENGINE LIGHT’S BACK ON AGAIN!

Friend 2: At least it waited until after the inspection this time.

Friend 1: True.

Story 452: Living in a Tourist Town

A summer morning in a city that never sleeps: the constant traffic that had lessened a bit in the past few hours starts ramping it up from “steady” to “bumper-to-bumper”; stores that were closed only to reset after the business day have opened with the rising sun, lines of customers already circling around the block; the beaches have not a grain of sand uncovered by blankets and chairs; all the tours are in full-swing; and the birds sing the anxiety of the day.

A shift worker driving during through the city mid-morning stops over 50 times in a three-mile commute to avoid hitting cyclists swerving out of the bike lane and pedestrians crossing streets just everywhere.

Worker: (Stopped in the middle of the busy avenue as a whole group of babies cross against the light on their way to the beach) Let’s move to the shore – it’ll be sooooooo relaxing – you can avoid the main road during the summer – not if work is on the main road, now can I?!  (Leans out the driver’s side window) No, no trouble at all, I’ve got nowhere to be in a hurry, you enjoy the easy life you so richly deserve!

Tourist: (To self, while crossing the street) This is my one week off a year….

A refurbished trolley turns onto the avenue at half speed in front of Worker’s car.

Tour Guide 1: (Voice blasting through the trolley’s speakers) And coming up on our left is a house-turned-hostel considered to be the most haunted building in all of –

Worker: (Blares the car horn and leans out the window again) The original building burned down 15 years ago and the ghosts are just the defective central air ductwork!

Tour Guide 1: (Leans out the left front trolley window, still holding the microphone and speaking in a low, deadly voice) Shame on you.

Worker: (Blares the car horn longer) MOVE IT!!!

The trolley, filled with the sounds of children crying, eventually turns down a side street.  Thirty minutes later, Worker finds an opening in the traffic to make a hasty left turn into the seafood restaurant’s parking lot and snags the last spot in the back.

Worker: (Exits the car, stares at the calm exterior of the restaurant belying the chaos within, and then turns to the nearby dock where the day’s specials still are being hauled in) You know, I’ve really gotten to hate fish.

At a nearby park, several adults sit on benches watching their children in the playground.

Adult 1: I actually have a dentist’s appointment later today.

Adult 2: Really?  Your doctor stuck around for August?

Adult 1: Yeah, basically riding it out till retirement.  I can’t walk from my house and expect to get there before tomorrow though, so I gotta leave here in a few minutes if I want to make it on time.

Adult 2: What time’s the appointment?

Adult 1: 3:00.

Adult 2: (Checks watch and sees that it is almost 11 a.m.) Might just about make it.

A charter bus turns into the parking lot and the passengers disembark in groups of 10.

Tour Guide 2: (Speaking through a megaphone) And this little oasis of tranquility is one of the best-kept secrets of –

Adult 1: (Gasps in horror, then quickly gathers belongings as Adult 2 does the same) Playtime’s over, kids – they found the park!

The adults and children run screaming back to their cars and re-enter the collective traffic jam.

At a beach entrance, the badge checker seated in a chair fights the intense sunshine with an umbrella and the intense boredom with a book as a beachgoer approaches with minimal gear.

Beachgoer: Howdy!  (Shows a badge)

Badge Checker: (Stares at it closely) I don’t understand – this is a resident badge.

Beachgoer: Yes indeedy!  Moved here this past winter and been looking forward to finally going to the wonderful beach my taxes are paying for!  (Takes in the brief snippets of ocean between umbrellas and bodies, and sighs) This’ll be great!

Badge Checker: Well, have fun!

Beachgoer: Thanks – stay cool!  (Sets off at a brisk trot across the hot sand)

Badge Checker: (Watches as Beachgoer struggles to find a patch of sand to stake a claim) Poor naïve newb – you’ll learn.  (Sees a horde of badgeless bathers approaching) Ergh – no one for ages, then they all come at once.

In a school, students attending summer session work on their projects when a car full of post-adolescents drives by with loud music blaring.

Driver and Passengers: (All wearing swimsuits and leaning out the car windows to yell at the school) SUCKERS!!!  AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Student: (Raises hand) Teacher?  Must The Tourists always declare that as they pass our academic institution?

Teacher: Forgive them, children, for one day you too may be The Tourists yourselves.

Students: (In understanding) Ohhhh….

They resume their work as Teacher stares wistfully out the window.

Teacher: As I myself was, long, long ago….

That night, one of the 200 ice cream parlors in the city has a never-ending line as the college-student employees struggle to keep up.

Employee: (Mutters while walking from the cash register back to the front counter and seeing the formless crowd that awaits) We really need a ticket system like a supermarket deli counter – (Louder) Next?!

Customer: Ooh, me!  (Looks intensely at the cases holding the different ice cream flavors) Ummm, let me think….

Employee: You’ve been on line for at least 10 minutes and there are several signs listing the choices on the way in.

Customer: I know, but I need to see them for myself… ummm… OK, could I have the peanut butter chocolate, please?

Employee: (Stifles a scream) That’s the carton that’s empty.

Customer: Oh, sorry!  None in the back, then?

Employee: It wouldn’t have stayed there long.

Customer: Gotcha.  (Starts looking at the flavors again) Ummmm….

Employee: (Looks up at the front door and sees the line outside has tripled) The one with peanut butter cups is similar if you want something like that.

Customer: (Finds that in the case) Um, nah, I’d want more chocolate ice cream, this one’s vanilla.  Ummmm....

Employee: (Sees the line has quadrupled) Would you like a few more minutes and I’ll serve you after the next – ?

Customer: Oooh, I got it!  Plain chocolate, please.

Employee: …Cone or cup?

Customer: Ummmm… which do you recommend?

Employee: Neither: we’re not allowed to influence customers’ decisions.

Customer: Oh, ummmm, cup then, please.

Employee: Small, medium, or large?

Customer: Definitely large – go all out when you’re on vacation, am-I-right?

Employee: Yeah.  (Creates the order and rings it up at the register; Customer adds a tip to the jar before Employee hands over the cup) Thank you – enjoy.

Customer: (Starting on the ice cream) Oh I will.  It must be hard working here, surrounded by all this yummy, yummy ice cream, so tempting!

Employee: (Stares out at the quintupled line of customers crowding the front door) Not especially, no.

In a supermarket, a shopper arrives with a full cart at the front register.

Cashier: (While ringing up the items) Oh, hi!  I haven’t seen you in a while, but I only just got switched back to nights recently.

Shopper: That’s a bummer.

Cashier: It’s OK, I requested it – summer daytime hours were getting to be too much with all the you-know-whos all over the place here; it’s actually rather peaceful working late nights while they’re off seafood-dinnering and ice-cream-sundaeing and miniature-golfing and bar-hopping and after-hours-pool-trespassing and after-hours-beach-trespassing and – yeah.

Shopper: Don’t I know it; why do you think I always shop here after 9 at night?

Cashier: Smart.  Dodge the crowds and no waiting on lines, either.

Shopper: Darn tootin’.

As the full moon shines down on the gatherings for movies-on-the-beach, diner cruises, casual strollers, cyclists out for one last thrill, and overtired children vainly struggling against the dreaded bedtime, the shift worker drives home from the restaurant covered in food detritus.

Worker: (Crawling through stop-and-go traffic on the main avenue) When am I gonna find time to vacuum the house now that I’ve got a double-shift tomorrow?  When’s my vacation from this vacation town?  I think I’ll book a getaway to the Pine Barrens.  (Stops as the traffic light changes again, balefully watches the crowd continuously surging toward the beach promenade, then looks up and sees the moon shining brightly over the soothing ocean waves) Ahhhhh…. It’s a view like this that makes it all worth it.  (A party parade suddenly appears in the middle of the street, club music blares from everywhere, and revelers dance around the cars that are now at a standstill.  Worker’s eyes glaze over while taking in the scene) And then, something like this happens.