Gemini Cricket
04-11-2006, 07:54 AM
by: GC
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We find ourselves in a glass conference room on the top floor of an office building lit by a fluorescent light that flickers occasionally. An oval table that squats in the center of the room is graced with two chairs. One chair is occupied by a ten year old boy. He sits with his hands folded on the table. He is wearing a suit. A tall thin man in his forties walks in. He is wearing a black trench coat. He sits.
The Man: Cute. He was supposed to be here, not you.
The Boy: I know. The whole ‘innocence of a child’ thing, you understand.
The Man: I don’t.
The Boy: Too bad.
The Man: I don’t come from downstairs to contend with petty nuances of this sort. I came here to deal.
The Boy: He did, too. He sent me.
The Man: Whoop-de-fu cking-doo for me.
The Boy: You shouldn’t swear in front of a child.
The Man: Neverland’s closed, time to grow up.
The Boy: Funny.
The Man: I aim to please.
The Boy: Yourself.
The Man: Always.
(Pause)
The Boy: You can’t have him.
The Man: That was a condition of the agreement.
The Boy: Terms are too high. The risk would be immense.
The Man: Think of your increased population. It’s win-win.
The Boy: No dice.
The Man: He’s still mad about New Orleans, isn’t he?
(No response)
The Man: I knew it. What’s a little water?
The Boy: The city’s gone. You said nothing about taking Biloxi as well.
The Man: Those casino owners owed me big. They were never going to pay up. I got Lott’s house, too. The Clintons asked me for that one. I just did it in one swoop. Done deal.
The Boy: He doesn’t want you to have him.
The Man: My offer was I give you Hussein and I get something in return.
The Boy: You took two states and messed up a third.
The Man: It’s Alabama. No one cares. I simply had to get that piano playing idiot, too.
The Boy: No. There’ll be a scandal or he’ll die of natural causes or something and that will be that.
The Man: How about shooting someone in the face?
The Boy: Funny.
The Man: Listen, I need to be him in oh eight. Just for a couple of months. I need a presidency.
The Boy: A second one?
The Man: Pshaw.
The Boy: No.
The Man: Then we have nothing more to discuss here. I’m taking my leave. Tell Him to keep his eyes open.
The Boy: Always.
The Man: By the way, I’m taking the House this year.
The Boy: What?! Rove won’t let you.
The Man: (Laughing) Rove will continue to do what I tell him to do.
There is continued laughter as the man closes the conference room door behind him. The boy stares at the closed door and sits in silence for a few seconds.
The Boy: Fag.
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We find ourselves in a glass conference room on the top floor of an office building lit by a fluorescent light that flickers occasionally. An oval table that squats in the center of the room is graced with two chairs. One chair is occupied by a ten year old boy. He sits with his hands folded on the table. He is wearing a suit. A tall thin man in his forties walks in. He is wearing a black trench coat. He sits.
The Man: Cute. He was supposed to be here, not you.
The Boy: I know. The whole ‘innocence of a child’ thing, you understand.
The Man: I don’t.
The Boy: Too bad.
The Man: I don’t come from downstairs to contend with petty nuances of this sort. I came here to deal.
The Boy: He did, too. He sent me.
The Man: Whoop-de-fu cking-doo for me.
The Boy: You shouldn’t swear in front of a child.
The Man: Neverland’s closed, time to grow up.
The Boy: Funny.
The Man: I aim to please.
The Boy: Yourself.
The Man: Always.
(Pause)
The Boy: You can’t have him.
The Man: That was a condition of the agreement.
The Boy: Terms are too high. The risk would be immense.
The Man: Think of your increased population. It’s win-win.
The Boy: No dice.
The Man: He’s still mad about New Orleans, isn’t he?
(No response)
The Man: I knew it. What’s a little water?
The Boy: The city’s gone. You said nothing about taking Biloxi as well.
The Man: Those casino owners owed me big. They were never going to pay up. I got Lott’s house, too. The Clintons asked me for that one. I just did it in one swoop. Done deal.
The Boy: He doesn’t want you to have him.
The Man: My offer was I give you Hussein and I get something in return.
The Boy: You took two states and messed up a third.
The Man: It’s Alabama. No one cares. I simply had to get that piano playing idiot, too.
The Boy: No. There’ll be a scandal or he’ll die of natural causes or something and that will be that.
The Man: How about shooting someone in the face?
The Boy: Funny.
The Man: Listen, I need to be him in oh eight. Just for a couple of months. I need a presidency.
The Boy: A second one?
The Man: Pshaw.
The Boy: No.
The Man: Then we have nothing more to discuss here. I’m taking my leave. Tell Him to keep his eyes open.
The Boy: Always.
The Man: By the way, I’m taking the House this year.
The Boy: What?! Rove won’t let you.
The Man: (Laughing) Rove will continue to do what I tell him to do.
There is continued laughter as the man closes the conference room door behind him. The boy stares at the closed door and sits in silence for a few seconds.
The Boy: Fag.