Medals Must Be Earned
Author's note: The events in this story take place just after Ralph has gotten the medal in Hero's Duty and escapes in the shuttle. Also, Hero's Duty has been plugged in for two months, whereas in the movie it had been plugged in only a week.
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Chapter 3: The Heirophant
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You were just in time
For a foolish deal
For love I sold
Can't stand another howling day
Inside this empty skin
While the beacons burn I'll say
Await return
From so far away
One life with the devil do I play
For so long
El diablo is to blame
Oh...
Oh el diablo, el diablo
Won't you sell me back my soul?
Oh el diablo, el diablo
Won't you sell me back my soul?
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Ralph woke to the feeling of his wrists being untied and he tumbled to the floor when they were free. And then his feet were released from the shackles holding him in place. He didn't open his eyes, but instead concentrated on the reality of the pain rising from his back. A couple minutes later, a hand cradled his face and something smooth and cool was pressed to his lower lip. "Here. Drink," he heard the sergeant's voice say through the pounding of the blood in his ears. Water trickled over his tongue and he swallowed it. When the cup was empty she returned his head to the floor. "You know, you're the first person from outside of our game that I've had to do this to. It's just been a few insubordinate soldiers before." She walked away, the heels of her satin shoes making a tock-tock-tocking across the floor.
Ralph opened his eyes. He was still alive, but pretty close to wishing he weren't.
Whimpering and afire with pain, Ralph dragged himself to a mattress lying nearby on the floor and collapsed there on his stomach.
The sergeant walked back over, some sort of computerized clipboard in her hands. Kneeling, she set it down, grabbed his heavy hand, and pressed his thumb to it. "There. Paperwork's done. You're free to go."
"I still need that medal. Tell me what I need to do to get it," he moaned slowly.
"Are you still hung up on that? Why do you want it like your life depends on it?"
"My life does depend on it. It's not just about a medal. It's about thirty years of isolation and neglect and loneliness. Thirty years I've been the bad guy in my game, and I'm not a bad guy. It's just my job. I want to be more than that. I want to be a part of my game," he rambled.
"You're a bad guy?" She glanced sideways at him.
"Yeah. Been the bad guy for thirty years and have been hated for it every day," he said sadly.
"Thirty years? Your game's that old?"
"Yeah. Ironically we just had our 30th Anniversary party last night. It sorta pushed me over the edge."
"That long? Amazing. But okay, so you're the bad guy. Isn't that the role of the bad guy though? To be the one responsible for all the trouble?"
"Sure, but the thing is, once the arcade closes, they still treat me like the bad guy. They curse me. They hide from me. They exclude me." The tears of a pain greater than the punishment Calhoun had meted out began to fall, running down his face and dripping into the mattress. "I just want to be accepted and treated like a normal guy...like one of them. I'm not asking for much, am I?"
To Ralph's surprise, the sergeant placed her hand on his arm. "You've tried, haven't you? Tried to fit in with them?"
"Yes! For years...decades. Oh, but for them it's just so much easier if there's a 24/7 bad guy they can blame everything on. Keep things black and white you know."
"So what do you do in your game that makes you such a villain?"
Ralph told her about his stump and the construction of Niceland. He told her about wrecking the building and about lobbing bricks at the little handyman who hopped about repairing his undoings. He told her about living in the junkpile and watching Felix get all the glory.
"So then what does this medal have to do with it?" she asked.
"I made a deal with the Devil."
She gave him another sideways glance. "Excuse me?"
"The mayor of Niceland, the guy who's in charge of the building I wreck as my job."
"What kind of a deal?"
"I had said that I was just as good as the hero in our game, Felix, and he wins a medal when the player beats the game. I said that I could win a medal too. That mayor...that little devil... he told me that if I could win a medal he'd not only let me live in Niceland, he'd let me live in the penthouse. That's his place. He didn't think I could do it." Ralph's hand clenched into a fist. "That's why I'm so desperate. It's my ticket to a new life. I can't take the isolation any more."
He closed his eyes, but the tears continued to fall.
"I had no idea," she said.
"I don't think anyone knew or knows or whatever."
Her hand stroked his forearm gently, and Ralph was surprised that the woman had any tenderness in her, not after the way he'd seen her lead her troops into battle, and the way she'd remorselessly beaten him twice into unconsciousness. "So, if you get one and go back, then it's happily ever after for you?"
"If the Devil keeps his word, and I think he will."
"Well, if you want it that badly, lets go earn you a medal."
Ralph's eyes rolled up to look at her, the brutal sergeant sitting there in a white corset and silk stockings, spatters of his own blood across the white satiny fabric and her skin. "Earn one? You'd help me?" He picked his head up off of the mattress. "You mean it?"
She nodded at him. "I'll gather up a squad and take you up the tower, if you're up to it. We could go tomorrow, or next week if you want. Admittedly you're pretty messed up right now."
"No, no! Now! Tonight!"
She smirked at him and rose to her feet. "You're still absolutely crazy, soldier."
Ralph pushed himself up and managed to stand. "I'm desperate."
"Obviously," she laughed. She walked over to a panel on the wall, hit a few buttons, and then tapped out a message on a keyboard. "All right," she said, turning back to him. "We're heading up the tower in twenty minutes. Let's go get suited up."
"Thank you. Thank you so much," Ralph said gratefully. "You don't know what this means to me."
"You know, if you'd had a little patience and had come to me in the first place, instead of knocking out Markowski and sneaking in, I would have done this for you if I'd heard your story."
"I didn't knock him out," said Ralph, clinging to his innocence on that point. "But I did steal his clothes and lock him in the closet."
"And dressed him that little red Speedo. The guys are never going to let him live that down." She shook her head. "One little medal."
"Not little...the biggest, shiniest medal in all of Litwak's."
She laughed amusedly. "C'mon."
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Medals Must Be Earned continues in: Chapter 4 – "The Tower"
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The Heirophant – Tarot meaning
Approval, conformity, consent, good advice, marriage or union
Also known as the Pope, this card can mean very different things based upon your own nature. At its root, it represents doctrine, but doctrine can come in the form of teaching and guidance or rigid authority. Where it appears in your spread is also important, as it is most often indicative of your own approach to the moral, religious, and social conventions of the world. Considered wisely, it helps show the path to fulfillment.
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Wreck-It Ralph and all related concepts, characters, worlds, and events are property of Walt Disney Pictures. Original characters and story elements are property of E. Potter, writing under the pen name of Miratete.