“GET ME THAT FOOTAGE OR YOU’RE FIRED!” Cindy screams throwing her script at the assistant’s face. “I am sick of these limp stories! This is the Cindy Owens show! The Cindy Owens show people!” stamping heeled foot she rages, “I need more from you,” her screams turn to coos, “Okay, sugar?” she grabs her assistant’s face he’s a young man, but everybody fears Cindy. Everybody. “I need you to get me that footage,” the last words a threat.
He gulps. This boy is shaking in his cheap shoes. He’s never felt this way and he doesn’t like it, but he swallows deep. “H-h-how? T-th,” he swallows hard once more, “they said no media I-”
Pinching his chin between her thumb and index finger she smiles, “Oh honey is that all? You go back and you tell them Mrs. Owens sent you. Can you do that sugar? Bring back the footage and,” in a loud whisper, “keep your job.”
Brett remembers Brenda and knows his dick won’t save his career. He’s not gold, after all. “Yes ma’am. I’ll return with the footage,” he turns quickly to get started, but before he gets away-smack.
Cindy’s palm finds his ass, “That’s a good boy,” the sound of her voice is humiliating, purposely so. Then she squeezes, he swallows, hard.Taking a deep breath he ignores the gasp from one of the female grips, and he shoots hard angry eyes at his colleagues assuming glances. He keeps walking. Head high, don’t let’em see you cry.
Then Cindy orders, “Move people! Back to work we’ve got a B&E to cover-get that cellphone footage up and running.” He can hear the room forgetting him. Just like they forgot Brenda, but unlike that bitch, Brett’s coming back-with or without the footage.
“Who are they?” she paces the butt of her cigarette glowing in the black “where did they come from?” her heels click, click, clack. The little red light moving up and down rapidly, puff, puff, puff “find out where they come from.”
“I don’t appreciate demands Mrs. Owens. Just the opposite in fact I rather feel the way about them that I do about late night visitors.” My back is turned to her as I sit at my desk watching the reflection of her cigarette glow dance.
A long drag “where else do I have to go?” the smoke lights the black with its sensual curves. “This is bad. This is real bad!” heel stamp “it’s a nightmare that no one will wake up from!”
She’s right. One thing about this bitch she can read the writing on the wall “how’s this my concern?”
Laughing she ask “you think you’re above this shit? We’re headed back to the Dark ages honey and when the walls come crumbling down you’re just as likely to be beneath them.”
“That may be so Mrs. Owens, but it can also be said it makes for damn good radio.” Her cigarette goes out-times up. She’s gathering her things in a huff knowing the rules all too well.
“I’ll be in touch, Mrs Owens.”
She’s out the door and the on air signal flicks on.
“What the literal fuck was that!?” Cindy Owens wails eyes nearly out of her head “we’ve got the footage!? What footage do we have!?” looking around at the silent staffers “well!? I’ll tell you” pointing perfectly manicured finger at no one in particular “I’ll tell you what the fucking footage is-a conversation!” stamping and jumping up and down on heeled feet “a short violent free conversation!”
Breathing turned near heaving our host composes herself turning slowly to give cold furious eyes to each and every employee. “Now, I’m sorry y’all, I’m just” sighing and fanning hand over eyelashes “it’s not your fault” grabbing a young grip by the shoulders “and it’s not yours” she quickly shuffles to a make-up artist who she hugs. Shaking her head “it’s not everyone’s fault and I’m sorry” she sniffles a bit and wipes a tear away “the monster got out, but we all know how I get…” with a heavy sigh and fist trapped in her bosom “it’s too protect all of us” arms outstretched “but someone has to be held accountable.” She walks slowly around the circle that’s formed each employee with their individual tell, she knows them all by heart.
The group seems to gulp as she nears their focus “uhh” a small voice and hand pop out from behind several others into the circle. “I… I set up the-”
With a million dollar smile and honey topping the words “walk with me sugar”.
Side by side Cindy Owens and the senior PA walk through the building hallways. Smiling and chitchatting as Cindy calls it “and you know what the little guy tells his teacher he wants to be a peace officer” cue loving motherly sigh “that ones a little angel, only seven.”
The PA pushes her glasses up laughing nervously “that’s wonderful heh kids are… blessings” keep laughing girlie.
“Yes, yes they are. Now, Natalie-”
Eyebrow raised her eyes narrow “Brenda” pronouncing each letter “tell me how your footage helps sell the Samaritan’s?”
Hiccup this frogs in boiling water “um… well I thought-I-I” Cindy’s eyes are dead, but little Brenda sees hope. Poor little froggy ” just having the footage y’know and giving the public the comparison y’know?” letting out a laugh the water gets hotter.
“No, I don’t know.” Cindy replies dryly our host her lips, and fist are twitching.
“Well y’know you-y’know no one else is-”
She’s had it with the amphibian “no I don’t know how showing” air quotes “the public a clumsy do-gooder in the colors of the dark ages tripping over Alpha is going to sell them!” Cindy’s screaming in the froggie face “do you have any idea what your incompetence could cost us!? Any conceivable idea what this could do to me!?” she turns violently around then in a blink she’s back “no! No! You don’t! That’s why you are going to fix this!” Heaving she attempts to catch her breath now arms length from Brenda.
The PA’s eyes wide words escape her, she wonders if this is real, it is. Keep quiet little lady.
She downs a glass of water brought to her by Brenda’s trainee those made for TV eyes never leaving the senior subordinate. “Ahhhhh” she sighs shooing the junior away. Shaking off the monster her million dollar smile returns “so Brenda” emphasis on the ‘a’ “fix it. Kay?” Brenda nods slowly at first then faster as with both hands Cindy bats her away. Then when the PA has gotten some distance our host sweetly calls “and Brenda” froggie stops, turns, the whole world’s listening as the women make eye contact “if you don’t fix it, don’t bother coming back.”
“Welcome back!” Cindy Owens smiles through the cameras “we were just talking about the big, big, big, big-big, big story of maybe the century!” the crowd is going wild “and you know I got the footage!” leaning forward mouth and eyes wide she let’s out a “HA!” the audience roars now out of the seats “okay, okay, let me finish everyone” her voice like butter, smile ear to ear, and that I’m not from Texas Texas hair ever so Texas. “Good Samaritan’s are what the news has dubbed them” audience gasp “ladies and gentlemen tonight we have footage of two of these” air quotes as the crowd is silent “‘good Samaritans’ special, only here on the Cindy Owens show” the audience again erupts as she demures only slightly then with a quick cock of her head ” alright let’s watch!”
The screen behind our host shows an empty street, midtown in the Marina District to be exact. Nothing. Then the click clack of heels-
“Slow it here!” Cindy shouts turning to the audience as old friends over to watch a film “Alpha everyone!” for a moment the crowd vibrates with hushed glee before she signals to continue rolling.
Alpha stops short turning swiftly around, she’s being chased. Taking up the left half of the screen Alpha stands high heel clad and fierce in spotted regalia looking like the Jane Tarzan wished he had. She looks confused. “Stooooop!” two women make the scene one covered in red, white, and blue star spangled and oh so out of date, the other in gold hot pants, tube top and boots looking like a discos wet dream. “Stop right there” the patriotic cutie is breathless.
“I’m not moving” Alpha sighs obliviously disappointed.
“Don’t get mouthy!” miss breathless screams raising her finger “tonight your reign of terror ends! Alpha you are under citizens arrest under clause 2.007-”
Our golden black beauty fights a laugh as our hyena’s jaw drops “you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me…”
“What no… you-you’re coming with meh-eh!?” she shrieks as Alpha sprints away yelling
“find me when you grow up!”
“Come back!” her would be captor screams moving to run but her foot catches hem and face catches concrete. Head spinning she continues ” I am Columbia!”
Her friend lifts her from the ground “yeah, yeah girl you’re Columbia alright.” her voice smooth as she dust off Lady Liberties former who looks sadly up at her “next time a little more physical?”
The screen blinks black and the crowd looks too Cindy for a reaction “well” looks like she was promised blood too “that’s just craziness!” out of her chair she runs to the audience who find themselves in an uncertain frenzy “what do you think about our vero Alpha” she picks a young brunette woman who shakes wildly with excitement-big Owens fan.
“Omg! She’s so cool, but, but I don’t know the Samaritan’s protect the law right? That’s good.” as the crowd buzzes with nervous uncertainty.
Cindy smiles and takes the mic moving to a middle age man ” and you sir, team vero or…?”
The man is urban through and through the girls with him young and well adorned he smiles wide with platinum teeth “team vero! I know that Alpha is one bad bitch, but the Samaritan got the colors of the dark ages on man. And you know I don’t want none of my bitches taking up in no filthy sewers! Never again y’all! ” with that Cindy shouts and prances back to her throne. The audience cheers for their team now dancing to the end of show music “well team vero or Samaritan our audience seems to have decided, I don’t know, can’t say, but I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow night to continue this discussion. I’m Cindy Owens, goodnight Liberation Land.”
“So, we’ve got to talk about this!” the screen behind our host flashes to a blurry green face the crowd goes wild “I know! I know! I can’t decide either-make up or FREAK? What’d you all think?” Our spunky host bounces out of her armchair and trots to the audience as they scream make up and FREAK in a flurry of sound. She puts the mic to an older well to do lady “FREAK!” the lady yells her mail order jewelry clanging as she claps frantically. Our host maneuvers to a younger more flavored guest “make up! It’s gotta be!” the girl smiles shaking her head and working it for the camera.
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t believe in FREAKS!” half of the crowd wails in agreement the other boos.
“Okay okay let her talk” the host coos.
“I haven’t seen one but war tech? Come on! Its tech parading as magic!” the crowd begins clapping and hooting wildly the speaker joins leaving the host to the mic.
“Alright, alright, I can get behind that the news did say the victims-poor man and wife-died from a powerful but small explosion so a piece of war tech? Maybe.” the crowd seems conflicted as she prances to her armchair sitting delicately before continuing “let’s watch!” she turns her back to the audience facing the screen gasp are heard from the audience as she turns quickly back “you know I got it” claps, then silence as the screen shows;
A figure clad in black, face hidden by the brim of a black hat-man screams the figure turns “yeah you!” a man stands in front of an angry looking woman dressed in a 20s flapper get-up (our host comments that the pair had attended the Antiques Gala) “you owe my lady!” the figure turns completely face coming into view glowing green “you-you-do-”
The angry flapper interjects “you promised results witch!” her delicate heel slammed onto the wet concrete as frail arm shot out over his shoulder. “FRE-” before the word could be utter the cameras sound disrupts as the image shakes the green glow flashes as the scene flattens. The figures clothes settled as does the dust the couple is out cold head down the figure walks out of frame.
Our host turns to the audience “there you go, FREAK or make up? I don’t know, can’t say, you decide let me know on social media! Thank you everybody! I’m Cindy Owen’s! Goodnight!”