------The Documentary (Part One)------
Mark notices the pictures first. There's an impressive number, considering that this is an office. Ones of Worthington and Dr. Grey standing on a beach of some sort. Others of Dr. McCoy and Worthington in suits holding up various awards and drinks. There are others, of people who Mark doesn't recognize. A dark skinned woman in a fancy dress being dipped, various children peaking out from behind Worthington's back and a large photo of many of the children, plus several others taken in front of what looks to be a giant dormitory.
Mark smiles. Some of the children may have had strange physical deformities, but they all for the most part look happy. Slowly he processes the rest of the office. He's stunned by the decadence and by the view.
"This is...wow--" Suddenly Corporate America doesn't look so bad.
"Would you like anything?" Worthington asks, as he heads towards a mini fridge behind the large desk. He opens the glass cabinet and retrieves two glasses.
"Do you have an Stoli?" Mark asks, unable to think of another drink. The words have barely left his mouth when he remembers why he's there. Worthington has offered him a job. He's offered him money to make a social commentary documentary and then another. And he's going to pay him. He grins to himself and thinks about how much he can't wait to tell Collins...
Oh Shit, Collins.
Do you know what Warren Worthington has done, Mark? He hears Collins in his head, louder and clearer than he'd like. He exploits people who are already downtrodden by society and he makes a profit from it. But that's not the worst part. He can see Collins taking a swig of Stoli in his mind's eye. The worst part is that he tries to pretend to help them. And he's so damn charming he's got Dr. McCoy and Dr. Grey won over already.
But the Worthington he's been talking to for the last hour doesn't seem to be doing this for his own benefit. Despite his corporate associations, he seems to genuinely be concerned about the issues surrounding Homo Sapien Superiors.
"I do." Worthington replies, pulling a bottle from the fridge and pouring a glass of scotch for himself as well. He hands the Stoli to Mark and sits down in a large chair which looks as if its been specially built to accommodate his back-brace. Mark sits heavily across from him and takes a large swig of his drink. "I should call Joanne," he repeats, having second thoughts.
Worthington pushes the black desk phone towards him, and presses the speaker phone button. Mark grins awkwardly and dials. He tries Joanne's office first and it flips to her away message, which prompts him to call her cell.
Worthington nods once more and Mark dials her cell.
Ring, Ring.
"Hello?" Wherever Joanne is, it's clearly busy.
"Joanne?" Mark asks, not able to hear her too well over the...is that mooing? Worthington smiles a little, though he's clearly trying not to.
"I'm sorry, I can't hear you- who is this?" she asks in a loud voice, which is made even louder by the fact that she's on speakerphone.
"It's MARK," he says as loudly as he dares.
"Mark?" she repeats, "Where are you, I thought we were all meeting for lunch at the Life."
"You're at the Life?" Mark asks, confused. "I thought we were doing lunch at the Life tomorrow."
"No, tomorrow I'm in court."
"But Roger has band practice," Mark says, unsure of how he could have forgotten this.
"It was cancelled. Where are you?" she repeats.
"I'm still on assignment with..." he pauses. If they're all at the Life he'd better watch what he's saying. "Is Collins there?"
Joanne sighs, and he can imagine the face she's making. "Of course he's here. EVERYONE is here. Say hi to Mark, everyone," she says, as if to prove her point. Mark cringes as everyone yells various salutations into the phone.
"Pookie, where are you?" It appears that Maureen has commandeered the phone.
"I'm filming Maureen." he says, noticing that Worthington seems plenty amused by his ex's nickname.
"Filming what?"
"An interview. Can you give Joanne the phone back, please." She sighs and he hears the phone change hands once more.
"What's up Mark?" Joanne asks.
"I need to ask for some legal advice."
Another sigh from Joanne. "What kind of trouble did you get yourself into this time."
"Not trouble, but I may have gotten another job."
"A job?" Joanne repeats. Mark can hear the others murmuring.
"Yeah, look, could you take this phone call outside?"
"Mark, I'm eating, I'm not going to get up and take your call, either what you have to say is very important and you can say it to me right now, or you can talk to me when you get here."
Mark sighs, Worthington is starting to look a little impatient and he really wants some advice. "Alright, I'll tell you now, but I need you to promise something."
"What?" now Joanne sounds unhappy.
"Whatever I say, no matter how much you want to react to it, don't repeat what I say." Mark instructs, and Worthington looks a tad confused, and eyes the phone warily.
Joanne sighs once more. "Just spit it out Mark, you're wasting my cell minutes."
"I'm still here at the Worthington Corporation..." he starts.
"Worthing---" Joanne stops mid-sentance, remembering what he said. "Keep going," she says evenly.
"Warren Worthington the third has offered to pay me to make a documentary on Mutant Exploitation."
"Mu---" This time Joanne catches herself faster.
Worthington is nudging a piece of paper towards him. On it is scribbled a sum which makes Mark's eyes go wide.
"He's willing to pay me--- is that $500,000?" he says, directing it more at Worthington than at Joanne.
"$500,000?" Joanne cries into the phone as Worthington nods.
"Who the hell is going to give Mark $500,000?" Maureen asks loudly.
"Warren Worthington..." Joanne replies before she realizes what she's done.
"Who?" Mark can hear Mimi now, followed by a glass being put back down on the table hard.
"Warren Fucking Worthington!" Warren starts, and Mark shuts both eyes and hopes something will happen and he can go back in time and not call Joanne to begin with. "Give me the phone," the same person shouts.
"Hey Collins." Mark says, his voice painfully high and his face red.
"You told me you hadn't taken that interview."
"Alexi---"
Collins cuts him off. "Alexi doesn't control you Mark, you could have said no."
"I'm behind on the medical bills Collins, she said she'd paid me double for this one. And he's offered me a job."
"Do I have to tell you about Warren Worthington, Mark?" Collins says, his voice taking on a professor like quality.
"No. I'm good," Mark replies sheepishly, trying to look apologetically at Worthington.
"As am I," Worthington mutters.
Collins isn't deterred at all. "He's the lowest yuppie scum there is. He's the Yoda to Benny's Luke Skywalker!"
"Yuppie scum?" Worthington says louder, offended.
"He exploits people who---who the hell was that?" Collins says, temporarily thrown from his anti-Worthington tirade.
"Warren Worthington---" Mark mutters. He's never felt ashamed of Collins before. He wonders if its the office or Corporate America, or if for once Collins is actually in the wrong.
"Well tell him that I think the fact that he exploits Homo Superiors is sick and twisted and that I hope he fucking becomes one." The phoneline goes dead. It appears that Collins has hung up.
Worthington is fuming. For a second Mark thinks he's going to get pushed out the window, or shot, or fired, or...something worse. But Warren sits back in the chair and takes several deep calming breaths. "Well," he says, through clenched teeth.
"I'm really sorry about Collins, I can leave if---"
Worthington holds up a hand.
"Do you still want your lawyer to look over the contracts?
Mark hesitates. "Yes."
"Then why don't we meet with her."
"Where?" Mark is suddenly questioning Worthington's sanity.
"Wherever they are..." Worthington says with a wave of his hands. He apparently isn't going to give up on this easily.
"The Life."
"The Life?"
Mark looks at him. He hasn't talked to a person who doesn't know about the life since he moved into the Loft years ago. "The Life Cafe, it's in the East Village." Worthington nods.
"But Collins---" Mark protests.
"I assure you, I'm more than capable of dealing with those of...more radically different opinions than my own." He stands, hitting a small buzzer which summons a man from another room which Mark hadn't noticed before. "I hope that this isn't going to be a problem for you."
"For me?" Mark manages to squeak. "You're the one who's going to die."
Worthington fixes him with a look. "Mark," he says seriously. "I've had people try to take my life for my opinions before, I doubt this is one of those cases."
"I'm not afraid he'll kill you," Mark confesses. "I'm more afraid he'll talk you to death."
Worthington smiles again, and Mark finds he's getting used to it. No matter what Collins says, that smile seems to be too genuine for Warren to be completely evil.
"Talk doesn't scare me," he assures Mark as he moves away from him and heads towards the door that the man appeared from. "Arthur will show you to the car, I'll join you momentarily." Warren straightened his suit jacket, nodding to the man in the doorway before slipping out through a small door beside him.
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