Sole Negotiation

[Gemini Cricket]

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.