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Post-America – Episode 101

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 04/23/2013

Post-America

Ten years ago we had hope, jobs and cash. Then “The Crash” occurred. Now, we rebuild…

Episode 101 – Midnight In Paris

(A group of sobbing mourners are gathered around a shallow grave in the deep woods of Western Maine. A husky bearded man in his forties is speaking to the small group as they throw dirt on the grave…)

Thomas:  John Nash was my brother. He was a good man and he held this town of Paris together after The Crash. But he’s gone now, thanks to Talbot and those Militia bastards. Now it’s all up to his young son and my nephew, Charlie Nash, to defend Paris and avenge his father’s death.

(The twenty-something with shaggy hair gulps audibly. The beautiful young nubile blonde Victoria Schweppes clasps Charlie’s hand and he struggles to suppress a boner to no avail. Eyes avert…)

~~~

(The group trudge back out of the woods to their small village built amongst the ruins of the former small New England town of Paris, Maine…)

Charlie:  I wish you wouldn’t embarrass me like that in front of everyone, Uncle Thom.

Thomas:  Well I didn’t think you’d become so swelled with emotion.  (snickers)

Charlie:  I hate you.

Thomas:  (grabs Charlie’s arm)  Now Charlie, what I said back there; I was serious. You need to lead this group.

Charlie:  Thom, I’m practically a kid. And we’ve got a psycho gypsy army up north trying to take our land and enslave our people. That’s a bit of a tall order.

Thomas:  You’re your father’s son. They’ll trust you.

(Wheels, a paraplegic who lost his legs in the riots following The Crash, cruises past the Nash men in his rickety wheelchair…)

Wheels:  Hey Charlie, you think you’re gonna have a “hard” time being our leader?

Charlie:  I get it, Wheels. Good one.

Wheels:  Right? ‘Cause of your boner?

Charlie:  I get it!

Wheels:  (wheels himself back to town, guffawing)

Charlie:  Man, is he an asshole. But ya can’t say anything, ’cause he’s in the wheelchair.

Thomas:  Well to be fair, you did get a boner.

Charlie:  (throws his arms up)  She held my hand! Forget this, I’m gonna go see Jay.

Thomas:  Okay, but hurry back. We need to discuss our next move.

Charlie:  Next move?

Thomas:  We’re gonna take the fight to Talbot. We’re goin’ to war, kid.  (grins)  You think you’re “up” for it? Get it? Because of your–

Charlie:  (storms off)

~~~

(Malcolm Talbot, the leader of the Northern Territories Militia, a towering black man with a high-top fade is sitting behind a desk in his slave-drawn trailer parked a mile or so north of Paris, Maine. Talbot’s head military adviser, Jean Darke, a pretty young freckled woman with a shock of red hair is standing at a map, plotting out coordinates. Jess, a small breathtaking Japanese girl in a beret, is kneeling at Talbot’s feet, watching Jean…)

Jess:  I still don’t understand what’s so important about this village. Why do you have to kill them?

Talbot:  No one has to be killed. They can always join us as slaves.

Jean:  Paris, Maine is the only thing standing between us and the former border. From there we have free reign to wreak havoc all across New England and down the eastern seaboard.

Jess:  Can’t we just go back up north to camp? What do we care about the eastern seaboard?

Talbot:  That’s enough complaining out of you. Anymore sass-back like that and I’ll throw you back out there with the slaves.

Jess:  (pouts)

Talbot:  (glances down)  Say, that’s a smart beret.  (tries it on)  Jean, what do you think. Could I pull off a beret?

~~~

(Charlie Nash is sitting in a field east of Paris, petting a golden lab…)

Charlie:  I dunno, Jay. I just don’t think I’m ready to be a leader. I don’t think I’m cut out for it.

Jay:  (pants)

Charlie:  But what if I fail? What if I get everyone killed?

Jay:  Ruff!

Charlie:  I know, I know. I need to be more confident. But you know I’ve always had confidence problems.

Jay:  (pants)

Charlie:  You’re right. I’m gonna do it.  (stands up)  I’m gonna lead this town!

Victoria:  (walks up behind him)  Well, that’s good to hear.

Charlie:  (spins around, voice cracks)  Victoria! How long have you–how long have you been standing there?

Victoria:  (grabs Charlie’s hand)  Charlie, I think you’ve been very brave the way you’ve handled the loss of your father through all this.

(Victoria pulls Charlie closer and he pictures horrible, disgusting, borderline psychotically violent images to calm himself. Victoria leans in and Charlie leans in and they close their eyes and their teeth loudly clack into each other…)

Victoria:  (staggers backward, holding mouth)  Ow, God!

Charlie:  I’m sorry! I’m sorry!

Victoria:  What’s the matter with you? Have you never kissed a girl before? Are you a complete loser?

Charlie:  Uhhh…

(Victoria is snatched from behind by two thugs with black bandanas around their faces. The thug with a red ponytail points a gun at Charlie’s head…)

Jean:  Give up the village or the girl is dead!

(The larger thug throws Victoria over his shoulder and they race back into the woods, while Jay barks at them from behind Charlie’s legs…)

Victoria:  Charlie! Save me!

Charlie:  (hollering)  Sorry about your teeth! I’ll practice kissing, I promise!

(Charlie glances down at Jay who cocks his head…)

Charlie:  Not on you.

~~~

Email this dog-kisser at ethanrbooker@gmail.com

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