Well, I've been on a bit of a hiatus due to my laptop deciding to turn on me and not work for the last few months. Traitor! But it's sort-of working now. Well enough to finish up the next chapter of Call of Doody, at least! We fall back down! But we get up again! You're never gonna bring me down! I fall back down but I--man, I miss Chumbawumba, don't you? No? Ok well, let's just get on with the next chapter then....
Call of Doody: Part Four
By the time I had walked back to the kitchen table, Cayden was saying, "All right, check this out. I've got a killer idea right here." He tapped the legal pad with his pen emphatically.
"Ok, let's hear it." Alex replied.
"We already have our idea, Alex." I said as I pulled out a chair and sat.
"Well, we can at least give it a listen, right?" Alex said through his teeth, pretty clearly not wanting to scare Cayden away. "Go ahead, Cayden."
I sighed, crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows at Cayden, waiting for him to start.
Cayden sat up a little taller and dove right in. "Alright. So there's this grizzled paunchy veteran. He fought valiantly and was given honors in several wars. But now he's tired and forgotten. His kids don't speak to him. His ex-wife hates him. He suffers from PTSD. He has to use a cane to get around and he loads himself up on more pills than House MD. The war is over but not for him, right?
"But something happens. He gets a letter in the mail or something and the FBI wants to see him right away. They're sending agents to his house that evening. They say one of his oldest and most deadly adversaries is back--maybe the one who ruined his legs to begin with--and they need his help to stop him. Our hero refuses because he's done fighting, he's seen enough. But they have a surprise.
"They plan to hook him up to a cybernetic body that will make his aging body stronger and faster than when he was in his prime. They have an entire arsenal of weaponry and an army at his disposal. He can finally take out the bastard who took his legs and his life. He accepts the mission and then the game begins."
"But something happens. He gets a letter in the mail or something and the FBI wants to see him right away. They're sending agents to his house that evening. They say one of his oldest and most deadly adversaries is back--maybe the one who ruined his legs to begin with--and they need his help to stop him. Our hero refuses because he's done fighting, he's seen enough. But they have a surprise.
"They plan to hook him up to a cybernetic body that will make his aging body stronger and faster than when he was in his prime. They have an entire arsenal of weaponry and an army at his disposal. He can finally take out the bastard who took his legs and his life. He accepts the mission and then the game begins."
Finished, Cayden leaned back in the chair once again and took a few more drags off the spliff, looking back and forth between me and Alex for our reaction. I glanced across the table at Alex who was staring at Cayden, slack jawed. I watched as his lips slowly formed the words what the fuck. I was just as stunned. Not only had I never heard Cayden speak above a third grade reading level before but the story was....well, it was good. Like...really good.
"Whoa..." I finally managed to say.
"Oh and of course there's a sassy intern at the FBI with huge tits." Cayden continued after a moment. "She'll get a lot of screen time. And she and our hero get busy, if you know what I'm sayin'." He started to simulate humping again, along with some over-the-top moaning, just to be certain we got the picture. Ah, there's the Cayden, I know.
"Wow Cayden, I uh....." I started again. "I very honestly don't know what to say."
"That sounds amazing, dude." Alex said, still looking shell-shocked.
"It'll be great, man!" Cayden was sucking down the rest of that spliff like it was going out of style. "It'll have everything. Drama, romance, big tits. Lots of action. Maybe a tear filled reunion with his kids at the end. You got any vodka?"
That last request snapped Alex out of his reverie and he vaguely nodded saying "yeah, yeah. Sure, man." He got up and reached into the cupboard over the fridge, then returned to the table to pour Cayden a shot.
"Um...." I said, "It's about Joe the Plumber."
Cayden shrugged and shook his head. "Who's that?"
"He's a guy who was relevant in politics a few years ago." Alex answered.
Cayden looked even more confused. "Oh." was all he said.
"Yeah, because we thought it might be cool to make a political game." I continued.
Cayden still looked confused. "I don't get it."
"Yeah, well, you wouldn't." is what I wanted to say. But before I had a chance, Alex was already speaking.
"This is what I'm picturing for the opener." he said. "It's a beautiful sunny morning somewhere in the midwest. The sky is blue, the birds are singing and the camera slowly pans over to a quaint looking abortion clinic...."
"Whoa, hold on!" Cayden interrupted, holding up his hand. "Abortion clinic?"
"Yeah." Alex replied, nonchalantly and continued, "We see a few protesters milling about outside, holding signs and chanting but nothing crazy. Idyllic music is playing when suddenly! BOOM!" Cayden and I jumped in our seats at the sudden outburst. "The clinic is replaced by a mushroom cloud!"
"What?!" Cayden screeched.
Alex kept going, "The protesters go flying, the clinic is eviscerated and there's nothing left but a crater. But as the smoke clears we see him strutting through the devastation and towards the camera. Our hero--Joe the Plumber."
Cayden just sat there blinking a lot. I wasn't sure what the blinking indicated but it didn't look good.
"He cocks a sawed off shotgun and points it at the camera." Alex continued. "Then he says, 'Not on my watch, motherfuckers' and shoots. The blast and gun powder slowly congeal to form the words of the title as dramatic music plays. And then the game begins."
I glanced towards Cayden again. His face was a slightly alarming shade of red and his lips kept moving as if to form words but nothing was coming out.
"So....hang on a second." I asked Alex. "Does he intend to destroy the clinic or the protesters?"
"Who knows." Alex says, his eyes glistening. "Maybe both. Maybe neither. Joe the Plumber don't care. Joe the Plumber don't give a fuck."
"But....what's his motivation?"
"To save America."
"Ok but to save it from what?"
"From the terrorists."
"And who are the terrorists?"
Alex grinned "That's the big question, isn't it?"
I rested my chin in my hand, fingers splayed over my pursed mouth. I frowned, thinking and after a very pregnant pause, said, "I'm....not sure I understand, Alex."
"You don't have to understand. Nobody does. I don't care if people understand it just so long as they ha--"
I loudly cleared my throat and inclined my head toward Cayden.
"Uh...ha--have a discussion about it!" Alex recovered. "Nobody will hate it. I was definitely not going to say 'hate'."
Cayden finally found his voice. "Yes they will. Everyone will hate it. That's the worst idea I've ever heard."
"You haven't let me get to the best part yet!" Alex said, feigning offense.
"Well then what's the best part?"
"Guess who the final boss is."
"I don't know."
"Go on, guess!"
"I don't want to guess."
"Come on, just throw out a name!"
"Fuck, I don't....." Cayden rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine. John Cena?"
"Nope!" Alex was exuberant.
"Can you just tell us who it is, please?" I asked tiredly, my face still resting in my hand.
"Barack Obama."
I let my forehead fall to the table with a thud. My voice came out as a muffled groan. "Really, Alex?"
"Ha. Now that I can get behind." Cayden said, finally grinning.
Alex was beaming. "That's more like it! I'm picturing him standing atop a mountain of burning copies of the US Constitution. And he's got a pointy tail and a pitch fork. Behind him are symbols of the New World Order."
"Yeah man." Cayden said, chuckling. "I like where your head is at!"
Alex continued, "And then Michelle pops in from time to time during the final battle to throw vegetables at you while Beyonce music bumps in the background."
Cayden faltered, mid-chuckle. "Wait, what?"
"Cool. Sounds great." I said with zero enthusiasm, peeling my face off the table. "We have a beginning and end now, so let's work on the middle."
"But wait, this is the best part!" Alex was beginning to gesture wildly with his hands. "So at the end you kill Barack Obama right? Boom! Right between the eyes! Yay, rah-rah, victory music is playing and whatnot. But then. Then you see him in the background. His corpse is reanimated and he rises slowly behind you. As our hero faces the camera triumphantly, Obama pulls out a giant wooden cross from behind his back and somberly says 'Forgive them, Father. For they know not what they do.' And then BANG. Brings the cross down on Joe the Plumber's head and pummels him right into the ground. The messiah has risen. It's time for the New World Order to arise. Game Over. "
I stared at Alex, my jaw agape, eyes squinted and one eyebrow cocked heavenward. "How much have you had to drink?" I asked.
Alex looked offended. "I haven't drank anything." he said, brusquely.
Cayden started to laugh. "Dude, you're crazy. That's the funniest thing I've ever heard! You should write for like....I dunno MAD TV or something."
Alex smiled in appreciation. "Thanks, man."
"Oh my god, this is insane...." I mumbled, covering my face with my hands and rubbing my temples with my thumbs.
"So that's the hardest parts out of the way. Beginning, end....all the rest is just filler, right?" Alex was saying.
"Well, I mean we don't really have an ending yet." Cayden noted.
"We don't?" Alex replied. "I just told you the ending."
Cayden paused for a minute then let out an awkward "ha!", waiting for the punchline. When Alex and I didn't move, he sat back and little and said quietly. "You can't be serious."
"Absolutely." said Alex. I groaned into my hands.
Cayden glanced wildly back and forth between me and Alex. "You guys are actually serious about this? This is seriously the game you want to make?"
"I don't know if 'want' is the word I would use." I said, lifting my head to one side to give Alex the stink eye.
"I stand behind it, one hundred percent." Alex said with confidence.
"But....like...you don't even win." Cayden protested.
Alex put on a serious expression. "Does anyone really win in this crazy game of life, Cayden?" he asked.
Cayden looked down and shook his head. "Ya'll are trippin'..." he muttered. "Like....you're gonna get shot for this shit."
"Nah, we won't get shot." Alex said flippantly. Then he cocked his head to the side and appeared to mull it over for a minute before saying again, but quieter and with less bravado this time. "We won't get shot."
"Well, I'm out." Cayden pushed back his chair and lifted his hands in surrender. "I'm not going to watch my favorite game series go down like this. Not that you'll pull it off anyway. There's no way anyone will actually make this thing." He stood up and began making his way toward the door.
"Who says?" Alex retorted.
"Says....I dunno, smartness?" Cayden paused and turned to face Alex. "Says, anyone with a brain? This will ruin the company! They'll never be allowed to make another Call of Duty game again!"
"That's the point." Alex said, as if it were obvious. I made a wild gesture meant to communicate "shut up" but I think I ended up just flailing incoherently.
Cayden froze in his tracks. "Wait, what?"
"Look." Alex sighed. "Like I told you before, Mark's uncle owns the company that makes Call of Duty and he's a raging asshole. He pissed off all his employees and no one will work with him so he asked Mark to write the next game. He's barely paying him anything, but he's already paid in advance. So we're taking the money and giving him the worst game ever so that we can ruin him while we laugh all the way to the bank."
Cayden scoffed. "What, like in that movie The Producers?"
"No dammit, it's not like The Producers!" Alex exclaimed in frustration.
"It's exactly like The Producers." I said.
Alex turned to me, eyes blazing, and seethed. "No. It really isn't."
"Yeah. It really is." Cayden innocently insisted. "I just saw it on HBO this weekend."
"No. NO." Alex's face was growing red. "It's not the like The mother fucking Producers, ok? We're not making any money off of this thing!"
"Well, we're making some money...." I muttered.
"It's not the same!"
"Look, I don't care if you want to rip off some lame-ass movie." Cayden interjected. "I'm not going to watch my favorite game franchise go down in flames, all right?"
"Oh good going, Alex." I said, glaring at him.
"Good going, for what?" Cayden said, turning to me. "For spilling your big master plan? For telling me how you were using me to ruin a game I love?"
"Oh please!" I snapped. "We weren't using you! As if you're of any use anyway."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Cayden looked ready to start throwing punches and I immediately regretted opening my mouth. But I was already tired and frustrated, so I just charged on.
"Oh come on. Like you actually know how to write in the first place."
"I do!" Cayden cried. "What, like you can write better? Messiah Obama and abortion clinics? Fuck man, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"
"Yeah, well everything you've ever said is that stupidest thing I've ever heard!" I shot back.
"What the fuck is your problem, man?"
I rose from my seat to meet Cayden eye-to-eye. "You're my problem, man!" I snapped, gesturing with scare quotes on either side of my head on the word 'man.' "I didn't even want you to come over and help us to begin with!"
"Well, then why did you ask me?!"
"I didn't ask you! You sat your fat ass down and insisted on helping us!"
"Oh well, pardon me!" Cayden growled, sarcastically. "I'm so sorry I wanted to fucking help you! Excuse me for living!"
"Oh please, like you even cared. You just wanted to eat our food, drink our alcohol--at eleven in the fucking morning, I might add--and tell me some ridiculous story about blowing guys at band camp."
"Oh, is that what you guys were talking about?" Alex asked, in a lame attempt to change the subject. We both ignored him.
"It wasn't at band camp, alright?" Cayden countered. "It was at summer camp. And it's not a ridiculous story. I just thought you might relate, that's all."
"Pah!" I scoffed. "Are you kidding? I haven't blown twenty guys in my life, much less in one summer!"
"So what, you think you're better than me? Is that it? Mr. Puritan?"
"Would you give it a rest, Cayden?!" I was shouting now. "You don't even know what 'puritan' means. And it didn't actually happen, so stop acting like it did."
"It did happen!" He shouted back.
"Like hell it did! It didn't happen the same way the FBI breaking down your door didn't happen, the same way hitting some kid on a ferris wheel didn't happen, the same way banging 50 girls in one night didn't happen, the same way none of your asinine stories have happened."
"What are you talking about?!" Cayden seemed genuinely confused and I had to give him credit for his commitment. "If they hadn't happened, I wouldn't have said they did!"
"Oh sure, sure!" I said, rolling my eyes dramatically. "Like some guy who dropped out school in 9th grade and makes a living dealing weed helped the Navy Seals find Osama Bin Laden."
"Are you calling me a liar?!" Cayden shouted, his eyes narrowing. "Is that it?"
"Hey, who's thirsty?" Alex suddenly piped up. "It's 5 o'clock somewhere, right? Why don't we just sit back down and have a little--"
"Alright fine." I said to Cayden, cutting Alex off. "Fine. You want to know the real reason we wanted you to help us?"
"Mark. Don't." Alex was standing now and put a warning hand on my shoulder. I shrugged him off.
"We asked you to help us write a story because you're full of shit. Yeah. That's right. You're full of nothing but bullshit."
Cayden opened his mouth to speak but I didn't give him the opportunity. The part of my brain screaming 'stop, you idiot!' lost and the words flowed out of me like a gattling gun.
"No, don't! Don't even bother! Because everything that comes out of that moronic, mouth-breathing hole in your face is nothing but lies and everyone knows it! You aren't fooling anyone, asshole. You think we're stupid enough to fall for your crap? Everyone knows you're full of shit and we all just think you're pathetic. You're not cool and you never have been. But I'll give you one thing. You sure can spin a good yarn. Not a believable yarn, but a ridiculous and idiotic one, which is exactly what we needed. So yeah, we were using you, Cayden. And you couldn't even do that right."
I paused to catch my breath, my chest heaving, fists in tight balls at my side. Cayden's eyes weren't narrowed anymore, he was just....staring at me. Eyes round and glassy, lips parted, shoulders slumped. He looked like I'd just slapped him. Finally, he looked away and took a couple of steps back.
"You know what." He pointed at me and Alex. "Fuck you guys. Fuck. You."
"Fuck you!" I snapped back.
"I didn't do shit to you, man." He waved an arm at me like he was shooing away a fly and started for the door. Then he turned and said, "You're not going to get away with this. I'll make sure of it. You can say whatever you want about me but I'm not going to let you ruin my game."
"Whatever, dude." I said, rolling my eyes and looking away.
"Don't call me 'dude'." He replied in a low voice. "You say your uncle's an asshole? I guess the banana doesn't fall far from the tree."
I heard him turn and his heavy footsteps faded away and up the stairs until I heard the door to his apartment slam. There was silence for a moment and then I heard Alex release a long and shaky breath, like he'd been holding it this entire time. I'd almost forgotten he was there.
"Well....that was....somethin'." He finally said.
Coming up next! The fifth and final chapter of Call of Doody! Hide yo' kids, hide yo' wives! And as always, thanks for reading!
Love,
Ryssa
Without a thank you, Cayden threw his head back with the shot and set it back down with a loud ahhh.
"So uh...." I said awkwardly before clearing my throat. "Uh...where were we?"
"Large titted FBI interns, I believe." Alex deadpanned.
"Yeah, yeah." Cayden said. "So I guess now we just have to write the script."
"Well....just a minute." I began cautiously, "There were some problems with the story I think we should talk about."
"Like what?' Cayden said, defensively. "What problems? You said it was amazing."
"Yeah, I have a few notes for you as well." Alex added.
"What? What kind of notes?"
"Well..." Alex began. "First there's the issue with using a military man."
Cayden squinted at Alex. "How is that a problem? It's a military game."
"True, but...we were thinking of taking it in another direction."
Cayden looked dubious. "And what direction is that?"
"Well, we wanted to write the sort of game that the every man could relate to, you know, the blue collared red-blooded Americans who play these games."
"Military people play these games too." Cayden pointed out.
Alex continued as if he hadn't heard. "So we were thinking of the protagonist being something like....oh I don't know....a plumber, for instance."
Cayden looked like he'd just been told the sky is red. "A plumber? What, are you insane?"
"Yeah, yeah." Cayden said. "So I guess now we just have to write the script."
"Well....just a minute." I began cautiously, "There were some problems with the story I think we should talk about."
"Like what?' Cayden said, defensively. "What problems? You said it was amazing."
"Yeah, I have a few notes for you as well." Alex added.
"What? What kind of notes?"
"Well..." Alex began. "First there's the issue with using a military man."
Cayden squinted at Alex. "How is that a problem? It's a military game."
"True, but...we were thinking of taking it in another direction."
Cayden looked dubious. "And what direction is that?"
"Well, we wanted to write the sort of game that the every man could relate to, you know, the blue collared red-blooded Americans who play these games."
"Military people play these games too." Cayden pointed out.
Alex continued as if he hadn't heard. "So we were thinking of the protagonist being something like....oh I don't know....a plumber, for instance."
Cayden looked like he'd just been told the sky is red. "A plumber? What, are you insane?"
"No, no we're quite serious." Alex steepled his fingers together and was putting on a tone like he was some big shot executive at a studio. I could tell he was enjoying this.
"You're out of your mind! No one wants to play Call of Duty so they can play a plumber!"
"What about the Super Mario Brothers?" Alex continued. "Those are the most successful games of all time."
"They're for little kids!"
Alex put on a hurt face. "I resent that remark, Cayden."
"If people want to play Super Mario Brothers, they can play Super Mario Brothers but this is Call of Duty! They're not the same thing! At all!"
"Cayden, you need to trust us." Alex had reached out a hand and placed it on Cayden's arm as if he was a guidance counselor or something. "We know JR very well and we know what kind of game he wants."
"You're full of shit!" Cayden was getting visibly upset now. "I don't care if that's what he wants. You're just going to ruin it!"
"No, no we're not." I jumped in.
"Yes you are! Fuck you guys!"
"Here's the deal, Cayden." Alex said, firmly. "We already have a story we want to tell, we just need you to help us with the more technical parts. Like, how many cut scenes we should have, gun specs, that sort of thing. Like a consultant!"
Cayden looked deflated. "I thought I was going to help you with the actual story."
"You are helping!" I offered, reluctantly. "We haven't played the games and your consultation will make it better and more Call of Duty...ish."
Cayden didn't look like he was buying it but he muttered, "If you say so."
"And you'll get a credit in the game." Alex added, in a slight sing-song.
"Fine. Whatever. Let's just do this." Cayden said, defeated. He glowered down at his legal pad and folded his bulky arms. The air had been stuffed with tension since Cayden walked in the door but now it felt ready to burst. I noticed I was wiping my palms on my pants, as they had started to sweat.
"So what's the title?" Cayden finally asked.
"Uh..." I began and looked at Alex.
"Er..." Alex intoned.
"That's a stupid title." Cayden said.
"The title isn't important right now." Alex quickly recovered. "We're working on it."
"Then what's it about?"
"What about the Super Mario Brothers?" Alex continued. "Those are the most successful games of all time."
"They're for little kids!"
Alex put on a hurt face. "I resent that remark, Cayden."
"If people want to play Super Mario Brothers, they can play Super Mario Brothers but this is Call of Duty! They're not the same thing! At all!"
"Cayden, you need to trust us." Alex had reached out a hand and placed it on Cayden's arm as if he was a guidance counselor or something. "We know JR very well and we know what kind of game he wants."
"You're full of shit!" Cayden was getting visibly upset now. "I don't care if that's what he wants. You're just going to ruin it!"
"No, no we're not." I jumped in.
"Yes you are! Fuck you guys!"
"Here's the deal, Cayden." Alex said, firmly. "We already have a story we want to tell, we just need you to help us with the more technical parts. Like, how many cut scenes we should have, gun specs, that sort of thing. Like a consultant!"
Cayden looked deflated. "I thought I was going to help you with the actual story."
"You are helping!" I offered, reluctantly. "We haven't played the games and your consultation will make it better and more Call of Duty...ish."
Cayden didn't look like he was buying it but he muttered, "If you say so."
"And you'll get a credit in the game." Alex added, in a slight sing-song.
"Fine. Whatever. Let's just do this." Cayden said, defeated. He glowered down at his legal pad and folded his bulky arms. The air had been stuffed with tension since Cayden walked in the door but now it felt ready to burst. I noticed I was wiping my palms on my pants, as they had started to sweat.
"So what's the title?" Cayden finally asked.
"Uh..." I began and looked at Alex.
"Er..." Alex intoned.
"That's a stupid title." Cayden said.
"The title isn't important right now." Alex quickly recovered. "We're working on it."
"Then what's it about?"
"Um...." I said, "It's about Joe the Plumber."
Cayden shrugged and shook his head. "Who's that?"
"He's a guy who was relevant in politics a few years ago." Alex answered.
Cayden looked even more confused. "Oh." was all he said.
"Yeah, because we thought it might be cool to make a political game." I continued.
Cayden still looked confused. "I don't get it."
"Yeah, well, you wouldn't." is what I wanted to say. But before I had a chance, Alex was already speaking.
"This is what I'm picturing for the opener." he said. "It's a beautiful sunny morning somewhere in the midwest. The sky is blue, the birds are singing and the camera slowly pans over to a quaint looking abortion clinic...."
"Whoa, hold on!" Cayden interrupted, holding up his hand. "Abortion clinic?"
"Yeah." Alex replied, nonchalantly and continued, "We see a few protesters milling about outside, holding signs and chanting but nothing crazy. Idyllic music is playing when suddenly! BOOM!" Cayden and I jumped in our seats at the sudden outburst. "The clinic is replaced by a mushroom cloud!"
"What?!" Cayden screeched.
Alex kept going, "The protesters go flying, the clinic is eviscerated and there's nothing left but a crater. But as the smoke clears we see him strutting through the devastation and towards the camera. Our hero--Joe the Plumber."
Cayden just sat there blinking a lot. I wasn't sure what the blinking indicated but it didn't look good.
"He cocks a sawed off shotgun and points it at the camera." Alex continued. "Then he says, 'Not on my watch, motherfuckers' and shoots. The blast and gun powder slowly congeal to form the words of the title as dramatic music plays. And then the game begins."
I glanced towards Cayden again. His face was a slightly alarming shade of red and his lips kept moving as if to form words but nothing was coming out.
"So....hang on a second." I asked Alex. "Does he intend to destroy the clinic or the protesters?"
"Who knows." Alex says, his eyes glistening. "Maybe both. Maybe neither. Joe the Plumber don't care. Joe the Plumber don't give a fuck."
"But....what's his motivation?"
"To save America."
"Ok but to save it from what?"
"From the terrorists."
"And who are the terrorists?"
Alex grinned "That's the big question, isn't it?"
I rested my chin in my hand, fingers splayed over my pursed mouth. I frowned, thinking and after a very pregnant pause, said, "I'm....not sure I understand, Alex."
"You don't have to understand. Nobody does. I don't care if people understand it just so long as they ha--"
I loudly cleared my throat and inclined my head toward Cayden.
"Uh...ha--have a discussion about it!" Alex recovered. "Nobody will hate it. I was definitely not going to say 'hate'."
Cayden finally found his voice. "Yes they will. Everyone will hate it. That's the worst idea I've ever heard."
"You haven't let me get to the best part yet!" Alex said, feigning offense.
"Well then what's the best part?"
"Guess who the final boss is."
"I don't know."
"Go on, guess!"
"I don't want to guess."
"Come on, just throw out a name!"
"Fuck, I don't....." Cayden rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine. John Cena?"
"Nope!" Alex was exuberant.
"Can you just tell us who it is, please?" I asked tiredly, my face still resting in my hand.
"Barack Obama."
I let my forehead fall to the table with a thud. My voice came out as a muffled groan. "Really, Alex?"
"Ha. Now that I can get behind." Cayden said, finally grinning.
Alex was beaming. "That's more like it! I'm picturing him standing atop a mountain of burning copies of the US Constitution. And he's got a pointy tail and a pitch fork. Behind him are symbols of the New World Order."
"Yeah man." Cayden said, chuckling. "I like where your head is at!"
Alex continued, "And then Michelle pops in from time to time during the final battle to throw vegetables at you while Beyonce music bumps in the background."
Cayden faltered, mid-chuckle. "Wait, what?"
"Cool. Sounds great." I said with zero enthusiasm, peeling my face off the table. "We have a beginning and end now, so let's work on the middle."
"But wait, this is the best part!" Alex was beginning to gesture wildly with his hands. "So at the end you kill Barack Obama right? Boom! Right between the eyes! Yay, rah-rah, victory music is playing and whatnot. But then. Then you see him in the background. His corpse is reanimated and he rises slowly behind you. As our hero faces the camera triumphantly, Obama pulls out a giant wooden cross from behind his back and somberly says 'Forgive them, Father. For they know not what they do.' And then BANG. Brings the cross down on Joe the Plumber's head and pummels him right into the ground. The messiah has risen. It's time for the New World Order to arise. Game Over. "
I stared at Alex, my jaw agape, eyes squinted and one eyebrow cocked heavenward. "How much have you had to drink?" I asked.
Alex looked offended. "I haven't drank anything." he said, brusquely.
Cayden started to laugh. "Dude, you're crazy. That's the funniest thing I've ever heard! You should write for like....I dunno MAD TV or something."
Alex smiled in appreciation. "Thanks, man."
"Oh my god, this is insane...." I mumbled, covering my face with my hands and rubbing my temples with my thumbs.
"So that's the hardest parts out of the way. Beginning, end....all the rest is just filler, right?" Alex was saying.
"Well, I mean we don't really have an ending yet." Cayden noted.
"We don't?" Alex replied. "I just told you the ending."
Cayden paused for a minute then let out an awkward "ha!", waiting for the punchline. When Alex and I didn't move, he sat back and little and said quietly. "You can't be serious."
"Absolutely." said Alex. I groaned into my hands.
Cayden glanced wildly back and forth between me and Alex. "You guys are actually serious about this? This is seriously the game you want to make?"
"I don't know if 'want' is the word I would use." I said, lifting my head to one side to give Alex the stink eye.
"I stand behind it, one hundred percent." Alex said with confidence.
"But....like...you don't even win." Cayden protested.
Alex put on a serious expression. "Does anyone really win in this crazy game of life, Cayden?" he asked.
Cayden looked down and shook his head. "Ya'll are trippin'..." he muttered. "Like....you're gonna get shot for this shit."
"Nah, we won't get shot." Alex said flippantly. Then he cocked his head to the side and appeared to mull it over for a minute before saying again, but quieter and with less bravado this time. "We won't get shot."
"Well, I'm out." Cayden pushed back his chair and lifted his hands in surrender. "I'm not going to watch my favorite game series go down like this. Not that you'll pull it off anyway. There's no way anyone will actually make this thing." He stood up and began making his way toward the door.
"Who says?" Alex retorted.
"Says....I dunno, smartness?" Cayden paused and turned to face Alex. "Says, anyone with a brain? This will ruin the company! They'll never be allowed to make another Call of Duty game again!"
"That's the point." Alex said, as if it were obvious. I made a wild gesture meant to communicate "shut up" but I think I ended up just flailing incoherently.
Cayden froze in his tracks. "Wait, what?"
"Look." Alex sighed. "Like I told you before, Mark's uncle owns the company that makes Call of Duty and he's a raging asshole. He pissed off all his employees and no one will work with him so he asked Mark to write the next game. He's barely paying him anything, but he's already paid in advance. So we're taking the money and giving him the worst game ever so that we can ruin him while we laugh all the way to the bank."
Cayden scoffed. "What, like in that movie The Producers?"
"No dammit, it's not like The Producers!" Alex exclaimed in frustration.
"It's exactly like The Producers." I said.
Alex turned to me, eyes blazing, and seethed. "No. It really isn't."
"Yeah. It really is." Cayden innocently insisted. "I just saw it on HBO this weekend."
"No. NO." Alex's face was growing red. "It's not the like The mother fucking Producers, ok? We're not making any money off of this thing!"
"Well, we're making some money...." I muttered.
"It's not the same!"
"Look, I don't care if you want to rip off some lame-ass movie." Cayden interjected. "I'm not going to watch my favorite game franchise go down in flames, all right?"
"Oh good going, Alex." I said, glaring at him.
"Good going, for what?" Cayden said, turning to me. "For spilling your big master plan? For telling me how you were using me to ruin a game I love?"
"Oh please!" I snapped. "We weren't using you! As if you're of any use anyway."
"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Cayden looked ready to start throwing punches and I immediately regretted opening my mouth. But I was already tired and frustrated, so I just charged on.
"Oh come on. Like you actually know how to write in the first place."
"I do!" Cayden cried. "What, like you can write better? Messiah Obama and abortion clinics? Fuck man, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!"
"Yeah, well everything you've ever said is that stupidest thing I've ever heard!" I shot back.
"What the fuck is your problem, man?"
I rose from my seat to meet Cayden eye-to-eye. "You're my problem, man!" I snapped, gesturing with scare quotes on either side of my head on the word 'man.' "I didn't even want you to come over and help us to begin with!"
"Well, then why did you ask me?!"
"I didn't ask you! You sat your fat ass down and insisted on helping us!"
"Oh well, pardon me!" Cayden growled, sarcastically. "I'm so sorry I wanted to fucking help you! Excuse me for living!"
"Oh please, like you even cared. You just wanted to eat our food, drink our alcohol--at eleven in the fucking morning, I might add--and tell me some ridiculous story about blowing guys at band camp."
"Oh, is that what you guys were talking about?" Alex asked, in a lame attempt to change the subject. We both ignored him.
"It wasn't at band camp, alright?" Cayden countered. "It was at summer camp. And it's not a ridiculous story. I just thought you might relate, that's all."
"Pah!" I scoffed. "Are you kidding? I haven't blown twenty guys in my life, much less in one summer!"
"So what, you think you're better than me? Is that it? Mr. Puritan?"
"Would you give it a rest, Cayden?!" I was shouting now. "You don't even know what 'puritan' means. And it didn't actually happen, so stop acting like it did."
"It did happen!" He shouted back.
"Like hell it did! It didn't happen the same way the FBI breaking down your door didn't happen, the same way hitting some kid on a ferris wheel didn't happen, the same way banging 50 girls in one night didn't happen, the same way none of your asinine stories have happened."
"What are you talking about?!" Cayden seemed genuinely confused and I had to give him credit for his commitment. "If they hadn't happened, I wouldn't have said they did!"
"Oh sure, sure!" I said, rolling my eyes dramatically. "Like some guy who dropped out school in 9th grade and makes a living dealing weed helped the Navy Seals find Osama Bin Laden."
"Are you calling me a liar?!" Cayden shouted, his eyes narrowing. "Is that it?"
"Hey, who's thirsty?" Alex suddenly piped up. "It's 5 o'clock somewhere, right? Why don't we just sit back down and have a little--"
"Alright fine." I said to Cayden, cutting Alex off. "Fine. You want to know the real reason we wanted you to help us?"
"Mark. Don't." Alex was standing now and put a warning hand on my shoulder. I shrugged him off.
"We asked you to help us write a story because you're full of shit. Yeah. That's right. You're full of nothing but bullshit."
Cayden opened his mouth to speak but I didn't give him the opportunity. The part of my brain screaming 'stop, you idiot!' lost and the words flowed out of me like a gattling gun.
"No, don't! Don't even bother! Because everything that comes out of that moronic, mouth-breathing hole in your face is nothing but lies and everyone knows it! You aren't fooling anyone, asshole. You think we're stupid enough to fall for your crap? Everyone knows you're full of shit and we all just think you're pathetic. You're not cool and you never have been. But I'll give you one thing. You sure can spin a good yarn. Not a believable yarn, but a ridiculous and idiotic one, which is exactly what we needed. So yeah, we were using you, Cayden. And you couldn't even do that right."
I paused to catch my breath, my chest heaving, fists in tight balls at my side. Cayden's eyes weren't narrowed anymore, he was just....staring at me. Eyes round and glassy, lips parted, shoulders slumped. He looked like I'd just slapped him. Finally, he looked away and took a couple of steps back.
"You know what." He pointed at me and Alex. "Fuck you guys. Fuck. You."
"Fuck you!" I snapped back.
"I didn't do shit to you, man." He waved an arm at me like he was shooing away a fly and started for the door. Then he turned and said, "You're not going to get away with this. I'll make sure of it. You can say whatever you want about me but I'm not going to let you ruin my game."
"Whatever, dude." I said, rolling my eyes and looking away.
"Don't call me 'dude'." He replied in a low voice. "You say your uncle's an asshole? I guess the banana doesn't fall far from the tree."
I heard him turn and his heavy footsteps faded away and up the stairs until I heard the door to his apartment slam. There was silence for a moment and then I heard Alex release a long and shaky breath, like he'd been holding it this entire time. I'd almost forgotten he was there.
"Well....that was....somethin'." He finally said.
Coming up next! The fifth and final chapter of Call of Doody! Hide yo' kids, hide yo' wives! And as always, thanks for reading!
Love,
Ryssa
