Marshmallow's Last Stand
Monday
1:29 PM
Strong Sad felt like he was counting the seconds to 1:30. He constantly found himself thinking Why is it taking so long? Finally, when 1:30 came, he half-expected someone to come through the door on the tick. But no one did. He wait for a little while longer, watching the door. His body filled with tension every time someone walked in. But it seemed like no one would ever come. He looked around. He was in a marshmallow restaurant, so he went up to the counter and said the guy behind the desk, "I'll take an extra-large bucket of large-size marshmallows."
He looked at Strong Sad's overweight figure and said, "I'm not surprised." He then added, "That'll be $4.50."
Strong Sad quickly took out $5 from his pocket and handed it to the guy. He gave back ¢50. Strong Sad stuffed the change back in his pocket. The guy handed Strong Sad a large paper bucket of large-sized marshmallows. He looked at the red-and-white striped design on the bucket. It said the words "Fluffy Puff Marshmallows." Fluffy Puff was the company that supplied Marshmallow's Last Stand with its marshmallows. There was also the image of the creepy mascot for Fluffy Puff Marshmallows, a talking marshmallow name Marshie. Strong Sad found him very, very annoying, as did most people.
He walked back to his table. He would have sat down, but someone was already there. He examined the person sitting at his seat. They had light skin and bad overbite. They were very tall and gangly. They had a blue T-shirt on. He looked oddly familiar. He was looking away from Strong Sad, out the window. Strong Sad couldn't see his face.
"Um, excuse me," said Strong Sad to the guy at his seat. "Um...this is my seat."
He did not turn around. He continued looking out the window.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he muttered. He had deep voice. It sounded like the type of voice that was used a lot. "This is your seat? I'm terribly sorry. I'll move, of course."
And he did move. Chairs, that is, but not tables. He got up, still looking out the window, and sat down on the chair at the other side of Strong Sad's table.
"Excuse me," said Strong Sad, sounding confused, "But, do I know you?"
"Aren't they beautiful?" he said. He sounded like he didn't here Strong Sad's question.
"What?" asked Strong Sad, now very confused.
"The clouds," he said. Strong Sad could now see that he was looking at the sky through the window. Strong Sad glanced up at the sky. Indeed, there were several clouds in the sky.
"Well, yes, I suppose they are pretty," said Strong Sad, "Buy you're not answering—"
"So majestic as they float aimlessly through the air," the guy said.
Strong Sad was now very annoyed. "Look, stop looking at the clouds and tell me who you are!"
The guy turned around.
"Good to see you again, Strong Sad," he said.
Strong Sad could now see his face. He now realised that this was the old friend he was supposed to meet.
Strong Sad uttered the name of the person he saw out loud.
"But, what are you doing here in Free Country? I though you were in New York, writing short stories for that magazine?"
"I was," replied Strong Sad's friend. "But someone got an article about some celebrity horribly wrong, there was a lawsuit involved, and the whole magazine went bankrupt. In the end, I was fired and lost everything I had earned during my time working there."
"That's terrible!"
"I just had enough money left for one plane trip. I decided that I should go to Free Country, where I could talk to the only person who was ever actually friends with my—you."
"I'm glad you felt that way."
"Now, listen, Strong Sad. While I was on the plane trip back to Free Country, I got a phone call. It was from Olympus Studios."
"That humongous movie company?"
"One in the same," said the friend. "They said the saw my short stories. They said that they could give me five million dollars if I write a screenplay for them. That is, if I have a partner who is equally as talented as me. The partner would get an extra five million."
"So, are you asking me if I want to do it?"
"Yes, I am. I think that you are the only person I know as talented as I am. Will you do it?"
"Of course I will! This sounds too good to be true!"
Strong Sad paused.
"Wait...it must be too good to be true. What's the catch?"
"One small thing."
"Go on," said Strong Sad apprehensively.
"Well, Olympus discovered that I lived in Free Country. They did some research, and they said that the unspoiled beauty of the fields here would be perfect for several movies."
"So, they want to make some movies here? Of course the people here would let Olympus film here!"
"Well, it's not that easy."
"I knew it. What's the catch, for real?"
"Well,
they said that they would give us an extra five million to go with
our first five million if they could knock down all the buildings in
this town to build a move studio."
"Oh no...I knew there was
something bad about this."
"Come on, Strong Sad!"
"I
just don't think I should do this."
"Come on," he said.
"Tell me this: out of all the people in Free Country you know, how
many, other than me, would you actually consider your friend?"
"Well...come
to think of it...none of them are actually my friends, other
than you."
"I knew it! And here's another question: what do
you want more in life? One: for you too continue living here in this
empty town filled with annoying morons, non of which are your
friends, or two: have a chance to be able to show the world your
artistic skills together with me, with ten million dollars to boot?"
Strong Sad's friend had him there. It was an obvious decision.
"Well," said Strong Sad, "When you put it that way...you're right. I'm in. I'll write these movies with you, and I'll get rid of the townspeople."
"Thank you!" said the friend. "Strong Sad, my friend, you won't be displeased! I'll tell Olympus right away!"
The friend walked out through the door and onto the grass outside. He took out his cell phone and dialled a number. He heard the metallic sound of the phone ringing, and then he heard a voice speak.
"Olympus Studios, Peter Halloran's office."
"Hello," said the friend to the secretary. "I want to speak to Mr. Halloran about an offer he made me?"
"Name, please."
The friend told him the secretary his name. He could hear the secretary asking Mr. Halloran if he knew someone by that name. He heard Mr. Halloran's voice replying yes.
There was a pause, and then the friend heard Mr. Halloran's voice. Mr. Halloran greeted the friend, and then added, "So, have you found a partner to write those screenplays?"
"Have I ever!" said the friend. "I juts got my friend Strong Sad to work with me. He's an excellent author."
"And he agreed to help get our townspeople out?"
"Yep."
"Great! Get him on convincing the mayor to move the citizens out as soon as possible!"
"Um...Free Country doesn't have a mayor."
"What? That's strange. Doesn't every town legally need a mayor?"
"Well, Free Country isn't really...a republic. As far as I can remember, it's a monarchy."
"What an odd thing to say," commented Mr. Halloran.
"I completely agree," commented the friend.
"Well, I don't care if Free Country's a dictatorship. That'll all be cleared up once he get the...leader of the city...to seal that deal."
"It should be easy for Strong Sad. As far as I know, the King knows nothing but gluttony."
"That's great news."
"Well, I'll talk to you soon, Mr. Halloran."
"See you then, Stephen," Mr. Halloran said, and he then hung up.
The friend closed his cell phone and put it in his pocket.
My name's not Stephen, thought the friend. He shrugged and walked off.