We're Probably To Blame
(December 23rd, 2020)
(On the front lawn of a very expansive estate outside of town, Jesse, in goggles and heavy apron, works industriously with a power washer defleshing a tremendously large animal pelt. It might be a moose, but no moose has ever had stripes like that. Or been quite that large.)
(A large black Toyota 4Runner pulls into the circle drive, "Don't Shoot Me Santa" blasting from external speakers, and parks a safe distance from the grisly work. Ethan and Jordan exit the SUV and stand watching Jesse work for several minutes.)
Jordan: (leaning into Ethan to be heard over the power washer) That's really going to smell later.
Ethan: It's good for the lawn. It's not like it's our house, anyway.
Jordan: I thought we were buying this one.
Ethan: Too expensive to retrofit a helipad on the roof.
Jordan: Why wouldn't we park the helicopter here on the front lawn?
Ethan: Be kind of an eyesore, wouldn't it?
Jordan: Ah, true.
(Jesse continues vaporizing fat and muscle from the pelt, scattering gobbets and stringy pieces across the grass.)
Jordan: Quarantine's getting to him.
Ethan: It was getting to him about Day 2.
Jesse: (shouting angrily over the roar of the power washer) It's not a bloody quarantine if the healthy people are isolated!
Jordan: (shouting back) Sorry, I meant hunkerdown.
Jesse: (kicks the off switch and comes over to the 4Runner) Bloody catachreses have defined the entire year.
Ethan: It would be nice if people stopped twisting words.
Jordan: It would be the end of politics.
Jesse: And modern journalism.
Jordan: Maybe we should offer translation services.
Jesse: We'd have to forcefully extend our services to most people.
Ethan: If there's anything we're good at, it's force projection.
Jordan: I've never been able to master similfuturus.
Ethan: Not Force projection, force projection.
Jordan: Ah, clear as mud.
Ethan: (in a voice much like Siri) Mud, a slimy sticky mixture of solid material with a liquid and especially water.
(Jesse opens the 4Runner trunk and retrieves a large bag of non-iodized salt, returns to the pelt where he proceeds to begin spreading the mineral liberally over the cleaned hide. Jordan grabs a second bag and helps with the process.)
Jesse: Ya know, I'd kill for… (trails off and looks thoughtful)
Ethan: Kill for what?
Jesse: I also thought there'd be more to that sentence, but it seems to stop at "kill."
("No Time to Die" by Billie Eilish begins to play. As it reaches a crescendo, Jesse puts down the salt and answers his phone, cutting off the music.)
Kim: (on video chat) What takes you so long to answer?
Jesse: Ringtone. What can I do for you?
Kim: I took delivery of a shipment and the guy had me sign an FFL transfer… After he handed me an FFL in my name.
Jesse: Yeah, we all got those, it was in your contract renewal.
Kim: Okay, fair, I should have read that more closely. What is with these…weapons?
Jesse: How do you mean? Is something wrong?
Kim: No, they just look very real.
Jesse: Well, yeah.
Kim: More so than your usual festive arsenal.
Jesse: Ah yes, that's because they are.
Jordan: (poking his head into frame to talk to Kim) Have you seen the world out there?! We can't afford to invest in the usual stuff. We had to buy the real stuff. Someone could get hurt!
Ethan: (offscreen) And very likely will.
Kim: Kinda bleak for y'all.
All Three: It's been a long year.
Kim: Look, if you need something to do, I have several collectors interested in pieces of the Arecibo Observatory radio telescope.
Jesse: James Bond fans?
Kim: Nailed it in one.
Jesse: Yeah, we can do that. It'll keep us out of trouble.
Kim: Thanks. Kim, out.
Ethan: Puerto Rico. I wonder if we can do some iguana hunting.
Jesse: Don't see why not.
Jordan: So we're headed out to avoid trouble?
Jesse: (climbing into the 4Runner's driver's seat) Oh, I'm sure it will find us eventually in the New Year.
Ethan: What are we doing for a New Year's?
Jordan: Probably the same thing we do every year, Ethan. (hops into the backseat)
Ethan: (climbing into the passenger seat) What if I don't want to save the world?
Jesse: (leaning out the window) Do you know a better way to make money?
Ethan: There are some people who've been asking me to help them out of financial straits.
Jesse: Who's that?
Ethan: The Greeks.
(In the backseat, Jordan strums a lute and begins singing "Toss a Coin to Your Witcher" as the 4Runner throws gravel and tears out of the driveway.)
Ethan: Does something need done with that pelt?
Jesse: I'll text Kim and have her take care of it. It's in her contract.
* * *
(Kim and a handsome, dark-haired Frenchman with the Chinese name Kang stand behind the snack counter in the Riggs Brothers Theatre, sipping drinks and humming Christmas carols when Kim's phone receives a text message. She reads it, glaring more and more fiercely with every word.)
Kim: I'm gonna have to read my contract carefully before they get back… if they get back before the end of the contract. Hmmm...
Kang: I can practically hear the wheels turning in your curly blonde head.
Kim: More than a few people want to catch up with those three… I've got a list in the office, actually.
Kang: They have been starved for entertainment.
Kim: Right. This will be doing them a favor. It's practically a Christmas gift! God bless us, every one!
(Kim hurries off toward her office, humming a Hungarian Christmas carol with renewed gusto.)
Kang: (sips his drink and remarks casually to the popcorn machine) This is why I don't hang out here very often.
Popcorn Machine: Try working here.
(Kang snorts hot chocolate through his nose and hurries after Kim.)
Kang: Kim, I think I'd like to help with that. Those three are a menace.