TWO FLAT EARTHERS KIDNAP A FREEMASON EPISODE 14: KAFKAESQUE
[WALT is quietly sitting in the cage. GAYLE enters the room. Walt doesn’t notice right away, but there’s something off about Gayle… her mannerisms and speech patterns are slightly different. Walt’s eyes burn red. He looks like absolute shit.]
GAYLE: Hey there, Hun.
WALT: (a bit confused) Hey…
GAYLE: So, what do you have planned for the day?
WALT: (confused laugh) …I imagine I’ll just be in this cage until Randy decides to come back and yell at me about The Panama Papers or The Moon Landing.
[GAYLE laughs like it's a joke, but she just stares off into space with cold dead eyes. When she responds it's as if Walt said something Amazing or Fun.]
GAYLE: That sounds so fun. I’m jealous. Smiley Face emoji. Well, I wanted to reach out to you today because I’m sitting on a life changing opportunity that could make all that come true… and more.
WALT: Are you okay?
GAYLE: How would you like to be a business owner?
WALT: Are you having a laugh?
GAYLE: It’s no joke. If you want to level up your life you have to level up your product. Stock up and be prepared for the orders to come. Stock up and they will come. Do you like to be in control of your own destiny?
WALT: Well—
GAYLE: Of course you do... Now what if I told you I could help you achieve your destiny?
WALT: Are you going to let me out of the cage?
GAYLE: Better. I can help you escape the cage of living a boring paycheck to paycheck lifestyle by becoming a Brand Consultant for Ally Oils…
[THEME SONG]
[The lights CLICK OFF. The room is entirely pitch black before a projector comes to life. MUSIC plays. Its terrible, out of date and sounds as if it's coming from an old handheld boombox in the corner of the room.]
WALT: What is this? What's happening?
RANDY: Twenty-Seven days ago, my mentor, Doctor Kevin Byrd was murdered in cold blood by secret Freemason operatives who managed to conceal their involvement in his death by making it appear to be a heart attack.
WALT: I’m sorry to hear that, Randy. I am. But what’s that got to do with me?
RANDY: (bad British accent) What’s that got to do with you… pshh…
[Click. The first image appears on the projection.]
RANDY: This is a picture of the Sphinx on top of the St. Louis Civil Courts building. And here’s the Arch. The Gateway to the West if you will… And here you are at age twelve dressed up like a Cat Man on Guy Fawkes day… So tell me Walt, what’s going on here?
WALT: Where did you get that picture?
RANDY: Stop it. Just stop it. Just be straight with me.
WALT: I am being straight with you, Randy.
RANDY: Every time I ask you anything you’ll be all “I don’t know about that Randy or The Freemasons don’t have anything to do with that Randy.”
WALT: Because I don’t. And we don’t. And if you continue to ask questions like, Who Controls the Global Weather Machine? Or were Dinosaurs really real? I’m not going to have the answers for you… (beat) Except for the dinosaur one. Again, yes they were real…
RANDY: Ugh… it's just… well, from my perspective… sometimes I guess its just hard to figure out what questions I’m supposed to be asking during an interrogation… ya know? I didn’t go to Interrogation School. I’m self-taught at all this interrogation stuff..
WALT: How about we start by putting away the Cattleprod?
RANDY: I wasn’t really going to shock you. I just wanted you to know that I could.
WALT: I think you’ll find I respond better to positive reinforcement.
NARRATOR (V.O.): The First Step to deprogramming a Conspiracy Theorist is to get them talking about literally anything else other than their favorite conspiracies. But, be careful, you can’t be obvious with your attempted diversion. You’ll have to humor them a bit at first. These neural pathways were once created by and populated with things they loved. And they can be again. You just have to ask the right questions.
WALT: Randy, I’ve realized that I could benefit from finding out a bit more about you and your… theories. And I’d like to make you a proposal.
RANDY: I’m listening.
WALT: If you’ll give an honest response to the questions I have for you… then I will in turn do the same for any and all questions you might have about me, Freemasonry, or my novel, “The Centaur.”
RANDY: Nice book plug, dude, but I think I’m good on that one. I like this idea though. A little back scratching alliance. Yeah, I can dig it. And it makes sense on your end because like I’m sure there’s plenty of insight I’d be able to share with you about Flat Earth theory, Flat Earth culture, Flat Earth cu isine… (beat) I know stuff about ChemTrails if you’re interested.… You might say I’ve got some Secret Knowledge myself…
WALT: Ah, yes. There’ll be many questions to ask. So many. So… do we have a deal?
RANDY: Hmm… Okay, but you can’t ask for the DoorCode. That’s off limits. And no followup or subquestions. I’m not falling for any of your Freemason mind-games.
WALT: (joking) One step ahead of me.
RANDY: (not joking) Always… Try anything funny and I swear to God I’ll go get the Chainsaw. I read the Manual and now I can get that baby fired up…. so fast.
WALT: So, shall we shake on it then?
NARRATOR (V.O.): Walt presses himself against the bars of the cage and extends his hand toward Randy. Randy meets it. They shake hands.
WALT: I will honestly answer whatever questions you have for me.
RANDY: And I will honestly answer whatever questions you have for me.
WALT: A Freemasons handshake is binding.
RANDY: A Freemason’s hands are dirty as fuck, too.
WALT: Sorry.
RANDY: Alright, I go first. Question one. Question one…question one-one- one…. Hmmm… (beat) Okay, let’s just start at the top. Why did the Freemasons assassinate John Fitzgerald Kennedy? Subquestion- Was Lee Harvey Oswald working alone or did he have accomplices within the CIA and or Mafia and or Cuba? And if so, who?
WALT: (laughs) I don’t know, Randy… that’s… (laughs)
RANDY: You swore. A Freemasons handshake is binding, right?
WALT: Do you want to know my best guess? That’s all I can offer you.
RANDY: Okay, yeah… if you had to ‘guess’ what would your ‘guess’ be?
WALT: What do I think happened in Dallas, Texas, on November 22, 1963?
RANDY: Yeah.
WALT: Just to be clear, I’m not saying this is the secret knowledge of the Freemasons and what we know happened to JFK. This is just Walter Clay’s personal hypothesis.
RANDY: I understand.
WALT: I believe Geneva White was the second shooter from the Grassy Knoll.
RANDY: Roscoe White’s wife?
WALT: The one and only. She used to—
RANDY: —work for Jack Ruby.
WALT: That’s right. That’s right. I don’t know. I’m not claiming to be an expert or anything. And I haven’t exactly poured over the research and details, but I’ve read a few books, and that’s my theory or whatever. It’s not conclusive, but…
RANDY: Yeah, yeah. I’m right there with you. I mean it was really The Umbrella Man, but that’s not a bad theory.
WALT: If you knew for sure that The Umbrella Man really shot JFK, then why did you ask me what happened?
RANDY: It was a test. And you failed. Or passed, I guess, depending upon how you look at it.
WALT: Okay. So, my turn now is it?
RANDY: Shoot… I’m sure you’ve a ton of things about me that you’re dying to find out.
WALT: How do Flat Earthers such as yourself explain Satellites?
RANDY: What do you mean Satellites?
WALT: What do you mean, what do you mean Satellites?
RANDY: Are we talking man-made Satellites? (Sarcastic) In “space.”
WALT: Yeah. There’s literally thousands of Satellites in Earth’s orbit right now. How do you explain that?
RANDY: Explain what?
WALT: How do you explain Satellites?
RANDY: You’re talking in circles, man. Next Question.
WALT: You have to answer it.
RANDY: I don’t have to answer shit.
WALT: Well, then I don’t have to answer your shit either.
[Randy doesn’t like it, but he goes along.]
RANDY: I won’t say that I don’t believe in Satellites or Space. I’m just not one-hundred percent convinced of anything if I haven’t had the chance to see it for myself.
WALT: What about the air? You can’t see it, but there it is…
RANDY: That’s different.
WALT: How so?
RANDY: Because I can see it. Blowing through the trees. Or coming out my nostrils when it’s cold outside.
WALT: But I mean… come on… look up at night. You can see Space can’t you?
RANDY: Can you? Or is that just a Pink Floyd laser light show lie. If you want to know more about the holographic projection known as ‘space’ it’ll cost you your next question.
WALT: Nope. I’ll save it.
RANDY: Question Two. What exactly happens at your secret Freemason meetings? And I mean Exactly…
WALT: (laughs) The meetings are quite boring. We discuss the business aspects of running the lodge. We talk about what the Lodge has been doing locally, and what future events we might be planning. The rituals get all the press. But when we have our charges or rites it's not some ritualistic sacrifice where we all lay in coffins and drink animal blood. The truth is that it’s much more dull and tedious and repetitive… like a stage play that gets performed every few weeks. That might not be the best comparison, but I do think it’s true.
RANDY: Events? You said “future events we’re planning.” What future false flag events are you referring to?
WALT: That’s your takeaway? I’m talking about charity fundraisers. Spaghetti Dinners. The Freemasons aren’t trying to take over the world. We never were. We’re just trying to make our small piece of it better.
RANDY: What’s the point of making the world a better place if you don’t get to control it? (beat) That’s a rhetorical question so no it doesn’t count.
WALT: Okay, Randy, my next question for you is…. for a million dollars, would you eat a bag full of month old Toasted Ravioli that’d been left out on the counter?
RANDY: What? That’s a… that’s a weird question, dude. But yeah, absolutely. I’d do almost anything to help my family. (Beat) If you don’t eat month old T-Ravs for a million dollars, you’re just being selfish. Next question… What’s the deal with Freemasonry and all the Chessboard shit?
WALT: Oh. I actually can answer this one. In Freemasonry the black and white floor tiles and their Chessboard pattern symbolize the duality of Man. Positive and Negative. Much like the Yin Yang you have on the Wall there.
NARRATOR (V.O.): Walt points across the room toward a Chuck Norris poster. In the middle, just behind good ol’ Chuck, is a giant Yin Yang Symbol.
WALT: Much like any other discipline… we use symbols to communicate our values and ideals. They’re easy visual reminders for us to live the best lives we can.
RANDY: So it doesn’t have anything to do with the Royal Family and how the Queen is really a shapeshifting Cat Person.
WALT: No. Nothing.
RANDY: That’s not what I heard.
WALT: Well, Randy, if you heard anything else then I’m afraid you heard wrong.
RANDY: (sarcastic) So it’s just got nothing at all to do with Cat People?
WALT: Not to my knowledge.
RANDY: (sarcastic) Okay. (beat) Wait a sec—- you said not to my knowledge, so—
WALT: I mean no. Absolutely no. Forgot I can’t leave any wiggle room for mental gymnastics.
RANDY: Not with me around. My brain is so elastic… I’m like the top mental gymnast in the world. (Beat) That Chuck Norris poster is pretty sick tho. Right?
WALT: Oh, absolutely. Stunning.
RANDY: That’s an authentic signature too. I got it signed at the St. Charles Mall when I was fifteen. Walker Texas Ranger was in town shooting a scene at the Arch. My Sensei used to kick it with him back in the day so he pulled a few strings and Chuck visited our Dojo.
WALT: That must have been exciting.
RANDY: Fuck yeah it was. Showed us all how to do an Axe Kick and even stayed after to explain why Evolution was fake. He was a real solid dude. And if I’m being honest… the man became a major role model for me at a time when I really needed one.
WALT: How long were you in Karate? Sorry if that’s a reductive way of asking that…
RANDY: It totally is. But I get it. Most people wouldn’t know the difference between Judo, Ninjitsu, and Taekwondo if it kicked them right in the face.
WALT: I believe I might be one of those people.
RANDY: I mean I’m a full grown badass now, I’m trained or self-taught in hella different disciplines, but Tae Kwon Do is my home. My rock.
WALT: Your cornerstone.
RANDY: Exactly. My cornerstone. I mean shit… I’m a 9th Degree Black Belt Taekwondo GrandMaster. I don’t fuck around. My center of Gravity is locked in.
WALT: Do you still compete?
RANDY: Nah. Had to… uh… give it up for the younger generations to have their turn. (Beat) Alright so next question… What’s under the Sphinx Paw?
NARRATOR (V.O.): While Randy and Walt both tried to deprogram each other with friendship, Gayle was trying to level up her downline…
[Gayle knocks on Ameena’s door.]
AMEENA: Oh, Hello. Gayle. How are you?
GAYLE: Hey Hun, can I ask you a question? Do you like to feel beautiful?
AMEENA: Oh, you know I do.
GAYLE: Well, you’re in luck because with Ally Oils you can do both.
AMEENA: (skeptical) Okay… How much is this going to cost me?
GAYLE: Only as much as you’re willing to invest to improve your future. How much is that?
AMEENA: Well…
[back to basement]
WALT: Next question, Randy… who is your favorite band of all time?
RANDY: My what?
[This isn’t at all the question RANDY expected.]
WALT: Your favorite band, or I guess I should say, musical artist… so… Who is your favorite musical artist of all time?
RANDY: Do you count dead people?
WALT: I do count dead people.
RANDY: Living or dead? Classic or modern?
WALT: Any of it. Obscure, mainstream… doesn’t matter. Who’s at the top of your list?
RANDY: Hmm.. Honestly, that’s a damn good question. I could give you a top five easy… er… probably top ten. But it’s hard to narrow it down much further.
WALT: Complete honesty, right? I think you have to answer the question.
RANDY: When I was a kid I would’ve for sure gone with Creed. But now… having any association with Scott Stapp is like… yikes… so I can’t go there. Don’t get me wrong. They’d still be in my top ten. Just not really who I am anymore.
WALT: Oh yeah, gotcha gotcha. Absolutely.
RANDY: Maybe… I could say Grand Funk Railroad, but I think that might be more of an idealized version of my music tastes rather than my actual tastes… Know what I mean? So…. hmmm… honestly, I think I’d probably have to go with Jackie Chan.
WALT: The Jackie Chan? He sings as well?
RANDY: You’re kidding me? You’ve never heard “Film Cutting Machine of Life,” or “Platonic Intuition.” Seriously?
WALT: A few moments ago I didn’t realize he could sing.
RANDY: JC has the voice of an angel. An ass-kicking angel.
WALT: That doesn’t seem fair for one man to be able to kickass and sing.
RANDY: Some of us are just blessed like that.
[ MUSIC | TRANSITION]
[The Interrogation continues. We rejoin as WALT is mid-answer.]
WALT: …again, I’m just trying to do my best to answer based upon the wording in your question, so I want to reiterate that the Freemasons are not ‘Elites’ and we have no intention of global domination or suppression. From its roots in literal Stonemason Guilds, Freemasonry has always supported equality. We talk all the time about On the Level and that’s what it means. Level… equality. Freemasons were rock chippers and grunts… they weren’t nobles and most of the time they weren’t even educated. They were working class. Though we’ve strayed far from our ancient landmarks in recent years, Freemasonry was, at one time, all about empowering the working class.
RANDY: Then why did you fire me?
WALT: You know I don’t make those decisions. And you already used your question so now it’s my turn again.
RANDY: Well get ready because that question isn’t going anywhere.
WALT: What are you most proud of, but never feel like you get the chance to talk about?
RANDY: Woo. That’s a… that’s a question. Let me think… I mean it’d be easy for me to say the thirty-six thousand subscribers I’ve amassed with my Youtube channel, but I haven’t really been doing this that long, so that number’s bound to keep growing… (laughs) This is gonna sound weird, but… (pause) …and you promise you won’t laugh at me?
WALT: Promise.
RANDY: For about eight years now I’ve been working on a Paranormal Erotica series called, “Wendigo Down on Me.”
WALT: Wow. That’s a… That’s a title for sure.
RANDY: And I also have an alternate history microfiction erotica side project called, “The Ghosts of Past Presidents: Fuck Party.”
WALT: How did you get into doing that? I didn’t even realize you were a writer.
RANDY: I.. uh… honestly, man… it started as a joke. I listened to a podcast about these two shitty morning Radio DJs up in Minneapolis who wrote a book called, Bangin’ Bigfoot. This was back when 50 Shades first came out and all those sex books were selling like crazy. So these two guys, with zero prior writing experience… were able to self-publish their masterpiece “Bangin’ Bigfoot” and within a few months they made something like twenty-thousand dollars.
WALT: Wow. People really do love their sex books don’t they?
RANDY: They really do. And I wanted a piece of that. Twenty-thousand dollars would be life-changing. We’d be able to pay off a huge chunk of Lucas’ hospital bills. Get ourselves out from under a mountain of debt. and you’re telling me all I gotta do is write a book about somebody getting their groove back by banging Bigfoot or Mothman or tag-teaming a couple of Wendigo’s or some shit. I can do that. Easy. Or at least I thought it’d be easy.
WALT: (response) How much did you end up making?
RANDY: Fucking nothing.
[RANDY crosses the room and reaches under a desk retrieving a large box. He pops the lid off and dumps out the contents. Notebooks and loose papers go everywhere.]
RANDY: I never finished a single one. I wrote two hundred and fifty thousand words, but it was all bits and pieces of different stories. Any asshole can write a first act or a sex scene. I just couldn’t finish any of them. [gestures to the mess] So this is what became of all that… All this…is just a waste of time.
WALT: But it wasn’t a waste of time, was it? Because my question was, “what are you most proud of,” and you didn’t hesitate to mention, “Wendigo Down on Me” or “The Ghosts of Past Presidents: Fuck Party.” So, right now, if you could go back and finish one of those books. Which one would it be?
RANDY: I don’t know if I can. Or if I even want to. I mean I’m not a professional real author like you.... with a real book on a real bookshelf in a real bookstore.
WALT: Trust me when I say that the writing has to be for you… A bookstore won’t make you feel any different. Or like any less of an imposter than you feel right now. Because what you’re saying sounds very familiar. It’s exactly how I talk about most of my writing projects. I’ve got one called Space Cowgirls. I hate it. I absolutely hate it. But I also love it too much to just throw it away and move on. Judging from this mess of papers I can tell you might feel the same way about your abandoned projects.
RANDY: I do. I really do. I love Wendigo Down on Me. I think there’s something there that people might like.
WALT: Well, then I think you should finish it. That’s the part we writers are really in it for. The feeling of a story told.
RANDY: My turn to ask a question, right?
WALT: Yes.
RANDY: Does being in a bookstore make you fart? Because it always makes me fart.
WALT: Me too. (Laughs)
RANDY: (laughs) Your turn.
WALT: You want to know something I’ve never told anyone?
RANDY: Uh, yeah its the reason we’re here.
WALT: I’m such a professional author that I’ve been going around to all the bookstores and buying my own books. It’s stupid. I know. And if anything I’m making it harder for someone to find my book, but there’s just something deeply depressing about seeing an entire shelf of your hard work just sitting there on a bookshelf. Untouched. Unread. Unknown. At this point I have no idea if anyone has actually even read my book.
RANDY: I’ve read it.
WALT: What?
RANDY: Yeah, I mean, I didn’t mean to. It just happened. I thought I might find like a secret codex or hidden manifesto in it. Started by circling the first letter of every sentence. But that was just a bunch of nothing. So then I tried the third word of every chapter, but that also was just a bunch of nothing. So I plugged all that stuff into an anagram generator and still couldn’t find anything that made sense so I gave up. No bullshit though. Check it out.
[RANDY retrieves the book from a nearby bookshelf. Flips through some of the worn out and noted pages.]
WALT: That’s ah.. lotta red ink and writing. So, you actually read my book?
RANDY: Yep. Cover to Cover.
WALT: Can I ask… what did you think? Did you like it?
RANDY: It’ll cost you a question.
WALT: I’d say that’s worth it.
RANDY: Three and half stars.
WALT: Ouch.
RANDY: I’d give it four stars, but you had to go and make Mortimer shoot MeowMeow in the end.
WALT: MeowMeow had broken bones in both of her front ankles. That’s a lethal injury for a horse. There’s no coming back from that. And with the Beck Gang bearing down on him… there was no time to eulogize… what else was Mortimer supposed to do?
RANDY: Umm… literally anything else. It’s your story. You decided what situations you wanted to put your characters in. MeowMeow’s death…that’s one hundred percent on you. Because MeowMeow even breaking their ankles in the first place is something you, the writer, decided to do to that poor fictional horse. You could’ve just written an ending where Mortimer and MeowMeow vanquish the Beck Gang and ride off into the sunset together.
WALT: Well, no, then it’d be a different story entirely. Because Mortimer’s introspective walk back afterward, alone and on his own two feet with no external force moving or driving him… it’s the first time he’s felt that. Somehow in his darkest moment he was able to achieve his greatest peace. He’s realizing that his place in the race is over.
RANDY: By killing a horse who was supposed to be your best friend? I don’t know, man. That sounds like some serial killer shit to me.
WALT: Well, either way it doesn’t matter. The story is what it is. It’s written, bound and out there in the world. I can’t change it now.
RANDY: I still think it would’ve been better if everyone just became friends at the end and then I don’t know, went to a diner together and shared a pie or something fun like that.
WALT: That wouldn’t make any sense. Mortimer and the Beck Gang are enemies. And if I was going to write that scene they’d be eating cake together. Not pie.
RANDY: Yeah, but Mort and the Beck Gang used to be best friends. And Pie is way better than Cake, both in its flavor and in its effectiveness as a literary device… what the fuck are you talking about?
WALT: That all changed when Jonathan Beck tried to move in on Hank’s mother’s farm.
RANDY: But you’re gonna act like Mortimer doesn’t still care for the Becks? If you can’t see that then you don’t deserve to write your own story. Or any pie.
WALT: What’s that supposed to mean? If you want to write a novel about a vengeful jockey who hunts down the Irish gang who kidnapped his horse then you write a novel about a vengeful jockey who hunts down the Irish gang who kidnapped his horse.
RANDY: Maybe I will.
WALT: Oh yeah!
RANDY: Yeah. And maybe I’ll send it to your publisher… Hammer and Rope and pitch the sequel to The Centaur. “The Centaur 2: MeowMeow’s Back from the Dead and Now She Has Horsewings.” It’s a G-D Pegasus Party. How does that sound?
WALT: (frustration breaking into laugh) Honestly, better than what I had planned, but good luck because the only way Hammer or Rope are willing to speak with me anymore is through collection notices and angry emails. (beat) They’ve been trying to get their advance back. Apparently my book sold a strikingly low number of copies. I’ll never forget how she said that... ‘strikingly low’… like she pitied me.
RANDY: That’s fucked up. Sorry, I was being a dick about MeowMeow.
WALT: You know it’s strange how quickly we go from just wanting to write a story… to doing everything we can do to sell a million copies.
RANDY: It’s a good book, man.
WALT: Thank you. Really. A few people have told me they’d start reading it, but I never heard back from any of them. It’s been out in the world for almost a year and still no one’s beating on the door to ask me about my characters or plot or decisions… so… really… thank you. Thank you for even giving enough of a shit to hate parts of it.
RANDY: So… are you thinking about writing a sequel?
NARRATOR: And now a word from our Sponsors.
[MID-ROLL BREAK]
BOSSBABE: Welcome to Ally Oils. Just what is Ally Oils you ask?
BOSSBABE II: It’s an opportunity.
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Sounds | Knocking on Door
GAYLE: Hey, Hun. I recently became an Ally Oils consultant and I just wanted to make sure you were aware of this amazing opportunity.
BOSSBABE: Hey Bossbabe, can I ask you a question?
GAYLE: If you want to level up your life you have to level up your product.
BOSSBABE II: I couldn’t sit on this opportunity for another second…
BOSSBABE II: Don’t underestimate the freedom that comes with having multiple streams of income!
BOSSBABE: Stock up and be prepared for the orders to come. Stock up and they will come. Do you like to be in control of your own destiny?
MIKE: Hey Bossbabe. My name’s Mike Smith and I recently became an Ally Oils consultant.
GAYLE: I’m a business owner.
BOSSBABE II: I’m a business owner.
BOSSBABE: I’m an Ancient Dark Energy Hivemind who will never stop until I’ve completely drained every last human of their entire life force.
MIKE: And I’m a business owner.
BOSSBABE II: Toxins.
BOSSBABE: I can only survive and prosper by sustaining myself on the misery and failure of others.
GAYLE: Toxins.
MIKE: Toxins.
GAYLE: Toxins.
BOSSBABE I: Level up your downline. Level up your life.
AMEENA: Level Up.
MIKE: Level Up.
BOSSBABE II: Level Up.
AMEENA: Hey Hun, I saw your post about losing your job… I have an exciting new opportunity I’d love to share with you…
[BACK TO BASEMENT]
RANDY: I don’t know man. I just want it to end with a bang. Ya know. It can’t end with silence. I don’t want to roll credits and just hear… crickets… So… how would you end it?
WALT: I thought you hated the ending to my story.
RANDY: I didn’t hate it. It just pissed me off.
WALT: Well, remember how you were planning on having the Inter-dimensional Bigfoot reveal himself and say… “I’m not big everywhere and that’s okay…”
RANDY: Yeah, of course…
WALT: Well, maybe you can just have the Nordic Aliens drop off Thomas Dracula in that same bit of Forest.
RANDY: yeah. yeah. Wow. Wow. That’s freaking brilliant. Seriously. That makes me want to let you out of the cage right now. I mean I can’t. For obvious reasons. But wow. That really makes me want to… (laugh)
WALT: Please.
RANDY: No.
[RANDY paces around the room while Walt sits in the cage.]
RANDY: Okay, so this bit was from a collection that was supposed to be called, “Ghosts of Former Presidents Fuck Party.” (reading) An oversexed apparition of George Washington walks onto the screen with just the biggest and drippin-est hog you’ve ever seen.
NEWTON: Oh, fuck right off…
RANDY: How’d you do that?
WALT: How’d I do what?
RANDY: How did you change your voice like that?
WALT: I don’t know what you’re talking about…
[We hear WALT’S stomach grumble.]
RANDY: Was that your freaking stomach?
WALT: Yeah. I’m afraid I haven’t eaten all day…
RANDY: Well, shit. I guess I should probably feed you something, right? You wanna order a pizza or something?
WALT: Sounds lovely.
RANDY: Thin crust, hand-tossed, pan. What are you thinking, Wally?
WALT: I’m thinking we do all three.
RANDY: Yeah. I like your style. (beat) But I totally can’t afford it.
WALT: I’m so hungry I’d be willing to contribute to the pizza fund. If I had my wallet…
RANDY: Oh yeah? What if I said I had your wallet? Right…
[Randy retries the WALLET from the BOOKSHELF.]
RANDY: (cont’d) …here.
WALT: Now would you look at that? There should be at least twenty-five bucks inside.
RANDY: Nope. Empty. See.
WALT: Did you already spend the twenty that was in there?
RANDY: Come on, Walt, you know I already spent the twenty that was in there.
WALT: Check behind the photo flap. It’ll pull out. Yeah. Just like that.
RANDY: Oh would you look at that. Five bucks.
WALT: I always tuck a fiver away for emergencies.
RANDY: This seems like an emergency. A pizza emergency.
[They both laugh.]
RANDY: Tell ya what, Walt. Tonight we’re gonna live it up. All three pizzas. Lets fucking do it. Pizza Party! You like movies?
WALT: Well, sure, I mean that’s a bit general, but sure.
RANDY: Let me be more specific… do you enjoy watching the cinematic combat masterpieces Kickboxer and Bloodsport?
WALT: Can’t say that I’ve seen them.
RANDY: Well then in that case I am jealous of what you’re about to experience my friend. All of this is based upon a true story.
WALT: Hey, Randy, since you have my wallet… Might you also have my phone?
RANDY: Yeah, its actually…
[Randy reaches for something on the bookshelf.]
RANDY: … right here. I’ve been keeping it powered down just in case any of your NSA buddies tried to triangulate our signals and track you down. But it’s been a few weeks. Guess I don’t have to worry about that anymore. Want it back? (laughs) Of course not. I’m just kidding.
WALT: Well, I mean obviously you couldn’t give it to me. But could you see if I have any messages?
RANDY: Hmm..
WALT: I just… I guess I’m curious. Like you said it’s been a few weeks. Everyone’s so used to ignoring me I kinda wonder if anyone has even realized I’m missing.
RANDY: Goddamn, Walt. You always know how to suck the hype out of a room.
WALT: Sorry.
RANDY: Nah, man. I get it. I tell ya what. Let’s check it out.
[RANDY turns on CELLPHONE.]
RANDY: Just gonna give it a minute to load here… (beat) Walt you have… (impatient mumbling) seven text messages. Looks like six of them are one-time access codes for your email account. That was me. Did a lil’ snoopy-snoop. The other text message here is from a number that’s not saved in your phone. Just says H-O-O. Question Mark. (Laughs) What’s that… some secret code?
WALT: Who would send something like that?
RANDY: Good one. (beat) Alright, here's the voicemails…
[Randy plays voicemails. A VM beep separates each message.]
CHARLOTTE (voicemail): Hello, Walter. This is Charlotte from Clarke Communications calling to check in on you. You’ve been expected in the office the past few days and we haven’t heard from you so I’m just following up to see if you’re still seeking to be gainfully employed at Clarke Communications. If not, then well, all can be worked out. But please, Walter give me a call and let us know your status. There are some very important dates coming up on the calendar and we don’t want to be caught with our trousers at our feet. Do call back when you receive this message, Walter.
[voicemail beep]
CHARLOTTE (voicemail): Walter… you had sure as shit better hope you’re dead because if you’re just bunking off and not telling anyone this close to a New Moon you may as well have signed your death note. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. (Beat) But with that being said… if something terrible has occurred to you I want you to know that I always cherished our friendship and I will remember you fondly.
RANDY: Charlotte sounds pissed. (Beat) Good.
DERBY (voicemail): Hey, Dad. Sorry it’s taken me so long to call you back. I’ve been meaning to… I’ve just got some stuff going on. But yes, of course, I’ll come to your book reading. I already looked up the schedule on the website… so I will be there for your reading on Friday the 13th. I promise promise promise I will definitely come. I’ll probably be stand in the back so that I don’t distract you from your real fans. Okay… I’m probably almost out of time so Bye Dad—
[voicemail beep]
WALT: Are there more messages?
RANDY: That was the last one. Received three days ago.
WALT: Play it again.
RANDY: Ugh, maybe later. So Derby’s your daughter… oh…that’s right. I remember that name from the dedication page. I thought it was a fake name so I was trying to Crack your Code by using that as the Key. Didn’t work.
WALT: I’ve been trying like hell to get her to spend time with me, but she always has an excuse. I mean, I don’t blame her at all. I did the same thing to my parents. I just thought. I don’t know. I didn’t think I was doing that bad of a job. I didn’t think I’d been that absent as a parent… But I had to have been. Otherwise it wouldn’t have been so easy for her to cut me out of her life.
RANDY: No kid likes their parents. Hell, one time I tried to kill my Dad. A few years later I was saving his life when my little sister tried to kill him. It’s all cyclical man. She’ll come around. Already starting to. That’s why she’s coming to your reading this Thursday. That’s cool. Right.
WALT: Well, yeah. I mean. It’d be great news if I could call her back or if I could go to the Bookstore, but unfortunately…
RANDY: Right. The whole me having you kidnapped thing. Right. Right. Hmm… That’s just some shit timing right there.
WALT: Can I ask you another question, Randy? And will you promise to still answer honestly…
RANDY: I’m an open book, man. Flip through me.
WALT: Why did you choose me? If it wasn’t because we fired you then what was it? Why me?
RANDY: Why anyone, right? Isn’t that what Vonnegut said. I needed a Freemason. And you were the only Freemason I knew.
[WALT suddenly twinges in pain.]
RANDY: You okay, man?
WALT: Yeah… just arrrrhhhhh..
RANDY: Damn you must be hungry as shit. Let’s get this pizza ordered.
[Randy is upstairs in the kitchen. The PHONE RINGS. Randy excitedly looks down at the phone screen thinking it was Gayle. But it’s not. It’s Karen. Randy answers.]
RANDY: (phone) What?
KAREN: (phone) Look who finally decided to answer his phone.
RANDY: (phone) What do you want, Karen. I’m busy.
KAREN: (phone) Busy… that’s hilarious. What are you busy with, Randy? More of those secret projects you’re always talking about…
RANDY: (phone) Yeah… as a matter of fact it is part of a secret project.
KAREN: (phone) (sarcastic) Did you finally build your Time Machine?
RANDY: (phone) No, I don’t have the funding for a project of that magnitude right now. Even though I have a totally solid outline and an airtight theory.
KAREN: (phone) You know I just signed a deal with Sargent & Stiles Entertainment…. They’re going to be distributing Heliocentric Fantasies on their new conspiracy themed Television Network. All the actual big names are going to be a part of it. It’s too bad… ya know, maybe if you’d gotten your secret project together in time you could’ve been a part of it too. What was it the Mom used to always say, “You could’ve ridden the wave. But now you'll drown in its Wake.”
RANDY: (phone) Mom used to say you’d sound smarter if you talked less. So maybe try shutting the fuck up, Karen…
KAREN: (phone) So what is it?
RANDY: (phone) It’s just generally the way you talk so I don’t think it’s something you can fix.
KAREN: (phone) No. Asshole. What’s your big secret project with zero funding?
RANDY: (phone) I didn’t say it had zero funding. Just a lot less funding than what it would take to convert a School Bus into a time machine. Gorilla cages and chainsaws are nowhere near as expensive as you’d think.
KAREN: (phone) (jokes over - actually concerned) Gorilla cages and chainsaws… Randy, tell me right now that you’re not doing what I think you’re doing. Those poor animals.
RANDY: (phone) What fucking animals, Karen?
KAREN: (phone) Don’t make me call in an anonymous tip to animal control. I swear to God, Randy. If you’re doing some weird shit in your basement and it comes back on me and causes me to lose this deal with Sargent & Stiles…
RANDY: (phone) You swear on Mark Summers’ life you won’t say anything?
KAREN: (phone) If you’re doing some weird experimental shit on animals I’m gonna have to say something.
RANDY: (phone) It has nothing to do with animals. Nothing.
KAREN: (phone) Okay. Then fine. I swear on the life of the most precious and wonderful man in the world, Mark Summers that I won’t say anything. Now tell me what it is.
RANDY: (phone) How about I show you?
NARRATOR (V.O.): Randy slides through the images on his phone until he gets to a picture of Walt. The one he’d taken before leaving for Conspiracy Con. Randy hits send.
[We wait a beat.]
KAREN: (phone) What am I looking at?
RANDY: (phone) You’re looking at the Freemason Operative I have locked up in my basement. (Beat) Kapow! I bet your mind is blown now, right!
KAREN: (concern/annoyed) (phone) Randy, please tell me you’re joking.
RANDY: (phone) Not even a little bit. I’ve been milking this fucker and soon we’ll be going public with all the secret information he’s been giving us. Hang Ten on that Wave, Butt-muncher.
[Randy hangs up the phone. Randy starts dialing the number to the Pizza Place. Randy mumble chants as he waits for them to pick up.]
RANDY: Kumite. Kumite. Kumite. Kumite.
PIZZA GUY (on phone): Can I take your order?
RANDY: (phone) Oh hey— yeah, uh… let me get a large—
[BACK TO BASEMENT]
NEWTON: You don’t have much time left, Walter. You’ve already started your transformation.
WALT: I know. I just… I thought I had more time.
NEWTON: You always do. What’s your plan?
WALT: It’s only one night. I’ll stay in the cage. If anything happens… if I get out of it… then I’ll just fly away as quickly as possible.
NEWTON: And contain your blood lust. That's hilarious. What are you really planning?
[No response.] [The sound of tearing fabric and flesh stretching beyond its limits.]
