Thursday, July 30, 2009

Week 28, Day 193 - "Mercenary Air"

“Mercenary Air”
Written by Joe Janes
193 of 365

The Liquidator
The Eradicator
The Protector
Jason, 10

(Lights up on The Liquidator, The Eradicator, and The Protector. They stand in shadows across the stage.)

Soldiers of war. Present yourselves.

(Spotlight comes up on The Liquidator. The Liquidator wears a wetsuit and goggles.)

I am The Liquidator. I settle bad debts. Recently, I killed the leader of a small country of large consequence with my bare hands. He borrowed too much from too many and flaunted his disregard to settle with his lavish lifestyle. I slipped into his marble and rum cake palace and moved with the shadows along the wall disguised as a unicorn tapestry. In his chamber, I waited until he was brushing his long flaxen hair at his vanity. On his 89th and a half brush stroke, I strangled him with the silk sash from his robe. (Holds up the silk sash) I made sure he could see me in the mirror. We locked eyes. Goggles to bulging eye sockets. And I whispered, “You’re a bad man. You do bad things. But no more.” I leapt from his balcony and escaped swinging from olive tree to olive tree to a small swan-filled stream. If you need someone taken care of, I’m the best. Call me. But not on Tuesdays. And if I don’t pick up, leave a message and a phone number. Don’t be a jerk. I’ll find you.

(Spotlight goes out on The Liquidator and up on The Eradicator. The Eradicator wears sleeveless non-descript military fatigues to show off the muscles and smokes a cigar.)

I’m The Eradicator. I rub things out. Last week, I killed a power hungry government official on the verge of world domination. I infiltrated his giant secret lair airship by clobbering one of his lackey cargo bay workers over the head and stealing his orange coveralls and gold hardhat. I made my way to the engine room and, without giving away any trade secrets, stuck a giant potato in the system’s exhaust pipe (He holds up a small club). I parachuted to safety as the airship imploded and then burst into a falling ball of hot. He and his crew of 500 perished. As well as another thousand in that small African village the flaming airship landed on. Some exotic animals got scorched pretty badly, too. Some African wildlife, and the sharks he kept in a tank on the bridge on the airship. But, hey, can’t make an omelet without killing a few hundred people. (Puts hand to ear, like a phone) Call me. I’ll give you more than you paid for.

(Spotlight out on The Eradicator and up on The Protector. The Protector wears a t-shirt and boxer shorts and carries a rolled-up newspaper in one hand and a spray bottle in another.)

Some call me The Protector. A select few call me Dad. Just today, I had an enemy break into my home and I had to take matters into my own hands. That’s right. I killed a wasp. It must have come in through the doggie door I finally got around to installing. I stalked it through the living room and into the downstairs bathroom. I quickly shut the door to protect the rest of the family. There in the porcelain chamber, it was just me and that stinging bastard. I grabbed a nearby People magazine and rolled it up tight. The wasp bobbed and weaved as I started batting. A formidable opponent. To slow it down, I grabbed a nearby spray bottle of tub and tile cleaner. Squirt, bat, squirt, bat, squirt, bat. Eventually, the wasp landed on the edge of the sink and then, whammo. Smashed wasp. I scraped it up with the magazine and wiped it off on the side of the toilet. Flushed the bastard away. You need a killer, give me a call. I don’t fuck around.

Three of you stand before me, but only one of you shall remain standing. Prepare for battle!

(Dramatic music swells and the three begin to tangle, Liquidator with a rope, Eradicator with a club and Protector with his magazine and squirt bottle. They go around and take swipes at one another, Protector eventually gets the upper hand, blinding Eradicator with Tub and Tile Cleaner and wrapping Liquidator’s rope around his magazine. Before he can go in for the kill, Jason runs up and tugs at his dad’s side. The music comes to a cold stop.)

Dad, dad, we found another wasp in the garage!

Some other time, fellow soldiers. Dad has a wasp to kill.

(He leaves with Jason. Liquidator and Eradicator are relieved. The Adjudicator clears his throat. The Eradicator lamely hits Liquidator in the arm with his club.)


(The Liquidator lamely whips The Eradicator with his rope.)

Oh, just go home. (They stare up at him.) I said go home! (They scramble off as the battle music plays and lights fade to black.)