Thursday, January 17, 2019

Story 272: The Accidental Adventure


            (Friend 1 is driving with Friend 2 in the passenger seat)
            Friend 2: (Looking out the window) Sure you still don’t want to try ---------- ----- Park?
            Friend 1: They’re digging up half the place to install who-knows-what and the other half’ll be all muddy with yesterday’s rain.  Least at ----- ---- Park, we can use the paved trails all the way and hop on the roads if the mud takes over.
            Friend 2: Yeah, but this is the off-season; the beaches there are closed.
           Friend 1: And?  We’re not there for the beach: it’s January and we’re not dedicated fishers, or surfers, or dog-walkers.
            Friend 2: The restrooms also will be closed.  (Friend 1 glares at Friend 2) Might be something to think about.
            Friend 1: I think you should’ve gone before we left, like a good child.
            (They drive into the park)
            Friend 2: Oh no, the sign says there’s limited service.
            Friend 1: Of course there is, it’s off-season; didn’t we just have this conversation?
            Friend 2: No, it says there’s limited service because of the government shutdown.
            Friend 1: (Covers right ear with right hand while steering with the left) No politics, la-la-la-la-la!
            Friend 2: It’s not – I’m telling you what the sign says; this technically is a national park so there’s going to be limited service here during the shut –
            Friend 1: (Briefly covers both ears) NO!  POLITICS!
            Friend 2: Obtuse.  I’m just surprised this place is even open at all.
            Friend 1: Whelp, they didn’t seal off the entrance and there’re other cars milling about like us, so we’re going for it!
            (They aim for a parking lot and see a ranger truck and wooden barricades are blocking it)
            Friend 2: Huh, people are still working here – good show.
            Friend 1: Aw man, this was my starting point for the trail!
            Friend 2: Why not just go back to where it starts by the park entrance?
            Friend 1: Go back?  Never!  It’s onward or nothing!  (Speeds off)
            Friend 2: You’re exhausting.
            (They turn onto a lane for another lot that leads through the woods and far off the main road)
            Friend 2: How big is this island?  We’ve been driving on this thing for five minutes and I’ve yet to see any other cars –
            Friend 1: (Leaning forward intensely and gripping the steering wheel) It’s not an island, it’s a peninsula!
            Friend 2: Seriously?!  Ooh, quick, there’s the lot over there!
           Friend 1: (Swerves into the lot and parks with screeching tires) See?  There are other cars here.
           Friend 2: Yes, two whole other cars.  I have no idea where we are now – where’s the trail map?
            Friend 1: (As they exit the car) I never bother with those here: it’s all paved trails, where else are we gonna go, the ocean?
            Friend 2: Yeah, but that doesn’t mean the trail won’t just disappear into the ocean, and then where will we be?!
            Friend 1: We’ll just keep the water on our left as we head back, now stop ruining this for me!  (Finds the trail) You coming or not?
          Friend 2: (Sighs) The moment we get lost, I’m turning around and leaving you with the seagulls.
TWENTY MINUTES LATER
            Friend 1: Ah, there’s the lighthouse!  The last time I tried to drive over to it I wound up in the middle of a small town and was afraid the Coast Guard was going to kick me out.
           Friend 2: Great, you finally found the ginormous lighthouse that’s been hiding from you all these years, can we go now?
            Friend 1: It took us 45 minutes to drive out here; we are staying at least an hour and a half to get our time’s worth.  I would say money’s worth, but they only charge admission in the summer.
            Friend 2: An hour and – ?  I don’t think I can walk that long in one stretch!
           Friend 1: Lazy.  Go sit on the World War II battery wall and I’ll get you on the way back, then.
          Friend 2: No way you’re not – the woods on the other side look like they’re hiding something up to no good.
TEN MINUTES LATER
            Friend 1: (Pointing to the right side of the trail) Oh look, a random workout station!
            Friend 2: That… certainly is random.
          Friend 1: Want to try it out?  I need to work on my arms.  (Hops onto one of the machines and begins pulling levers)
          Friend 2: That’s OK, I’m getting sufficient exercise at the moment.  (Hears a noise and freezes) Are there bears here?
            Friend 1: (In mid-pull) Huh?  Nah, just about 300 species of migratory birds, but no bears.
            Friend 2: How do you know?
            Friend 1: Said so on the Web site.  (Hops off the machine)
          Friend 2: Well what if that wasn’t updated?  What if bears were driven out of their homes on the mainland and decided to hang out here where it’s peaceful?  These trees aren’t big enough to climb away from them and there’s no one to call for help in time and I would never be able to outrun one and it’ll be a terrible way to die!
            Friend 1: You’re exhausting.  (Continues on the trail)
            Friend 2: That’s my line!
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER
            Friend 1: Ooh, look over there – ruins!
            Friend 2: Huh?
            Friend 1: (Runs past and climbs up an elevated cement floor in a clearing, spreading arms out) I read this was a testing ground for World War II weapons – they used to fire the big guns here – (Points down, then over to a fenced off area behind them) and there’re old buildings over there where they used to store everything.  You can tell that was important `cause now it’s all condemned.
            Friend 2: (Reads one of the explanatory signs stationed in the area) Hm.  They used to shoot things here until they saw the range was too short and had to pack the whole thing off to another state.  Bet the wildlife here was happy about that.
            Friend 1: (Hops back down to the ground, looking off to the side) Yeah; wonder if that guy is a reenactor or something.
            Friend 2: (Looks up from the sign) What guy?
           Friend 1: (Gestures with head) That guy, with the old-timey uniform.  Think he’s an employee, or a volunteer who does this sort of stuff for kicks?
         (They watch as the guy walks to the condemned area, opens a non-existent door, and disappears from view)
            Friend 2: I’d like to get lost some more now, please.
            Friend 1: Let’s.
THIRTY MINUTES LATER
            (On a beach)
           Friend 2: All right, how much longer can I stare at the soothing waves and impersonal city skyline?
            Friend 1: (Staring at the waves) Just a little longer….
          Friend 2: (Looks behind them) Oh good, there’s the lighthouse; as long as we keep that in  view, we should be able to make our way back to the car easily.
            Friend 1: Hm?  Oh yeah, good, `cause I lost track of the turn-offs we made ages ago.  Guess I should’ve brought a trail map, huh?
            Friend 2: Sigh.
TEN MINUTES LATER
            Friend 2: So, the lighthouse should be getting bigger as we get closer to it, yes?
            Friend 1: Just keep walking: we are on the trail and the trail will not lead us astray.
            Friend 2: That’s true if we’re walking in the right direction –
            Friend 1: Never question the trail!
TWENTY MINUTES LATER
            Friend 2: Did we pass that half-collapsed building when we first got here this morning, or did we just pass it five minutes ago?
           Friend 1: (Starts spinning helplessly in the center of a grassy common, surrounded by old Navy buildings converted into marine science labs) I – don’t – know!!!!! (Collapses onto the grass and sobs)
            Friend 2: All right, get up.  (Hauls Friend 1 off the ground and brushes off grass; points to a road) I think that was by the beginning part of the trail that led us here; we can take that back and see if it’ll bring us to the car, OK?
            Friend 1: (Sniffles) OK.
            Friend 2: (Puts a comforting arm around Friend 1’s shoulder as they walk) Would you like me to make you some hot chocolate when we get back?
            Friend 1: (Sniffles) OK.
           (They turn a corner and see the car, now surrounded by a massive number of vehicles in the lot)
            Friend 1: (Runs to the car and kisses the windshield) Oh bless you, my baby, I’ll never leave you again!
            Friend 2: Whatever – could you let me in?
          Friend 1: Oh, right.  (Unlocks the doors and the two collapse inside) Wow, my feet sure do hurt.  Good thing we don’t have to walk all the way back home, heh?
            Friend 2: Heh-heh-heh – just drive.
           Friend 1: (Starts the engine, pulls out of the lot onto one of the roads, then slams on the brakes) So… any idea which way now to get out of here?

Thursday, January 10, 2019

Story 271: The Tragedy of the Cut Scene


            (In an office, the Editor sits behind a desk as the phone buzzes)
            Editor: (Presses button) Yes?
           Receptionist: (Voiceover) They’re here – should I send them in or tell them you’ve been fired?
            Editor: The former, unfortunately.
            (The Author, Agent, and Ragtag Crew enter; the first two sit on chairs in front of the desk and the others sit all over the floor and remaining furniture)
            Editor: (After everyone has settled in) Do sit down.
          Author: All right, I know this won’t be a pleasure meeting since you insisted I bring all of them here.  (Gestures to the Ragtag Crew)
            Ragtag Crew: Yo!
            Editor: Yes, well, the team here at the publishing house has been reviewing your manuscript, and –
           Author: If you want your advance back you can forget it; this one made sure of that.  (Gestures to the Agent)
            Agent: Oh yeah, sweet moolah.
          Editor: No, we love your work, we really do – there’s just one stumbling block we keep running into every time we read it.
            Author: What, the typos?
            Editor: Since you brought it up, you really should have taken care of those before submission, you know.
            Author: Part of my charm.
          Editor: It really isn’t.  However, the stumbling block to which I’m referring is Chapter… (Flips through a proof) 109.  Specifically, the second half – the first half is pure genius.
          Author: Why, thank you.  (Takes the proof and skims the top page) Oh, you mean the flashback scene?
            Editor: (Holds back a grimace) Yes.  That.
            Author: I don’t get it; what’s wrong with it?
           Editor: How can I put this nicely: it absolutely kills the book.  (The Author’s mouth drops open and the Ragtag Crew hisses in union) Every time I get to that part, I want to chuck the whole thing out the window and into an incinerator.  And then perform an exorcism over the ashes, just to be sure.
            Author: (Unseeingly flips through the pages) But – but – but how can you say that?!  This is some of my best work, condensed into 99 pages of sheer bliss!
            Editor: (Leans over the desk to stare intently into the Author’s eyes) It has nothing to do with the rest of the plot.  You could literally slice that entire half-chapter out with a straight edge razor and no one would notice the difference.
            Author: (Disbelievingly) Oh really?
            Editor: Fine, maybe somebody would notice.  How about this: I got an actual migraine trying to figure out whose POV it was being told from, until after five reads I realized it was yours!
            Author: Yeah, isn’t that great?
            Editor: No it is not great; it is unreadable!  (Author, Agent, and Ragtag Crew gasp)
            Ragtag Crew Member: Blasphemy!
            Author: There is no other choice: the scene has to be cut.
            Author: (Stands and slams the 2,000+ page proof onto the table) Unacceptable!  My child will not be mutilated!
            Editor: It’s not even a full chapter.
            Author: Mutilated!
           Editor: We had a feeling you would react that way, so we created a list of ameliorations.  (Picks up a list from the desk and looks it over) Since there are elements of the scene that could be effective elsewhere, here are our proposals: (Points to one of the Ragtag Crew) Reveal of the Unknown Father should be relocated to the middle of Chapter 2 and then subdivided there and throughout Chapters 17-20 and then 99-105 –
            Author: Ugh!
          Editor: (Points to another of the Ragtag Crew) Dream Sequence should be real and should move to the Prologue –
            Author: The Prologue is sublimely perfect the way it is now!
           Editor: (Points to another of the Ragtag Crew) Surprise Unfaithful Lover should be Best Friend instead; figure out a way to incorporate the former’s personality into the latter’s –
            Author: (Metaphorically foams at the month and whispers) Monster.
           Editor: (Points to another of the Ragtag Crew) Oh, and Sudden Reversal also should subdivide so it can happen twice, once in Chapter 88 and another in Chapter 223.
            Author: (Points at that member of the Ragtag Crew as they stand) You will do no such thing!  (Ragtag Crew sits down again; to the Editor) You realize all that would entail months – no, years – of rewrites?!  I’d have to restructure the entire plot to accommodate this – this – cannibalization!
            (Ragtag Crew and the Agent shudder)
            Editor: We prefer the term “repurpose.”  And to answer your question: yes I do and yes it would.
            Author: Aha!
            Editor: Or you could just cut the scene.
            Author: (Stares coldly at the Editor) You foul fiend.  This was your diabolical plan all along, wasn’t it?!
            Editor: Why yes, I believe I made that quite clear several minutes ago.
            Author: (Collects injured dignity and motions for the Agent and Ragtag Crew to stand) Very well, then: you may have won the battle, but I will not rest until I find a way to make my darlings live on in another book, someday, somehow!
            Editor: (Begins writing a letter) That’s fine, do whatever you want, just get them out of this one.
            Author: Hmf!  (Turns to leave with the others; the Ragtag Crew console each other and sob)
            Editor: (Looks up) Oh, and while you’re at it, you might want to consider cutting this one, too – (Gestures to the Agent) absolute deadwood.
            Author: For once, we agree.
            Agent: Hey!
            Author: Have you contributed anything of substance to this scene?
            Agent: ….
            Author: I didn’t think so.