Sucker born every minute

“Ok, Bruce… Let’s go over this again.”  Steve Bolton circled Bruce Rose.  Bruce sat uncomfortable within a steel chair.  Both men were within a small concrete room with one reflective window.

“A vampire tried to suck on your neck?”

“Yes.”

“And you escaped?”

“Of course.  How am I here?”

“Well, several things could be argued.  Maybe you are only a copy of yourself and you are still there?”

“You’re kidding me?”

“Kid, I’ve seen crazier things.”

“I’m older than you.”

“No way,” Steve stared at Bruce’s dry complexion and the skin that pulled up near the corners of his mouth.

“Ok, sure.  Your older then me.  Anyways, back to the question.  Where were you on the date of March 4th?”

Bruce stared at the detective.  “Uhm, are you nuts?  I’m talking about an incident last night and your playing around.”

Steve, the detective, took a step back and smiled.  His teeth were jagged and sharp.

“Just a little off the top please.”  Said Steve to someone behind Bruce.

A puncture to his neck surprised Bruce but when he tried to jump a pair of long, pale hands held his shoulders.

“Stop!! Stop…”

Steve walks around the steel table and passes Bruce and a thin, ugly beast.  The beast was draining the blood from Bruce.  Steve slaps the beast on the shoulder and says, “A sucker born every minute.”  He then laughs and leaves.

Conversations with… Miy Selfe (Reconstruct)

“Welcome to Conversations With… I’m Myown Man.”

“Today’s guest is Miy Selfe.  Welcome, sir.”

“Hi,” Miy says quickly, quietly.  “How long is this conversation?  I have things to do.”  Myown tweaks his face slightly.  “I here you are a patriotic-type?”

Miy sits quietly then speaks, “I never said I was patriotic?”  “So your anti-patriotic?  Are you a hater?”

“No”

“So what is this goal you have for yourself?”  “I want to make people happy.  I want to do good.”

“That’s great.”

“Yeah, its so great.  You would think I’d done something by now.  I have not.  I don’t even know why I’m here.  I haven’t done and movies.  I haven’t made a difference in the world.”

“Woah, now friend.  Don’t you have a butt load of kids.”

“I have a few.”  “Then you are making a difference everyday.”  “To those children,” Miy inserted.  “I see,” says Myown with a smile. “You want to do something bigger.”

“Duh!”  Miy snaps leaving Myown speechless for seconds but quickly picks back up.  “First off, dude.  Cool the rudeness.  Second, being a father is quite a large difference.  Think of all the children in the world that made a difference because of the fathers.  Do you know the father of Martin Luther King?  Einstein?  Donald Trump.  Hell, everything that escapes Mr. Trumps mother is regarded highly.  I have no children.  I make my difference my talking to people the will.”

Miy sits quietly, dangerously mute to what Myown said.  It’s not a life threatening silence just awkward.  Myown searches for something to say to fill in the missing noise.”

“So I hear your father was in the war?”

Miy looked at him and grumbled.  “How did you know that?”  “It’s all over the news,” replied Myown.  “It is not.”

“Ok, fine.  I just made it up but it was a good guess.  So what war?”  “First Iraq war,” Miy replied.  “What did he do?”  “Infantry, he was a bad ass,” Miy smiled.

“You got it Miy.  Your father was a bad ass.  That makes you push for so much doesn’t it?”  “Yeah.”

“So let’s talk about what your pushing for.”  Miy squirmed in his chair and finally relented.  “I’ve spent my entire life trying to the right thing.  Always standing in the background and watching everyone else enjoy their life.”

“You know that’s a mirage, don’t you?”  “No, it’s the honest-to-god truth.”  “It’s not Miy.  Many people are miserable.”  “Liar.”

Myown laughs and runs his hands through his manicured hair.  He places his arms upon the wooden arms of the desk chair and bends forward.  “I absolutely hate myself,” he began in a whisper.  “Did you hear that?”  He then shouts to the audience.  “I hate myself but…”  He waits for the audience murmur to die down.  “I do something outside myself to make the noise go away.  I am not sitting in this chair on accident.  I push to talk to people because I cannot stand the sound of my own voice in my head.  Make sense?”

“What do you push for?”

Miy sits and thinks.  The silence echos and fear of that void ticks anxiety upward till he finally speaks.  “I think it’s crap that people care more about preparing themselves for the afterlife then for life right here right now.  Don’t you think it’s a waste of a good life to spend it all wondering if you are going to heaven or hell?  Can’t it be easier to do good in life just to do good in life?  Why is life so miserable?  Why can’t we work on improving our life just because we want to be happy and not because we want to make some one omnipotent source above happy.”

Myown smiles broadly.  “Break through friend.  So you want to change the way people think about religion?”  “I don’t want to remove religion.  I want people to rethink how they approach it.  Reconstruct the utmost function of religion.  It’s not a train to death but a path for life.”

“I gotcha there.  So you want to make a point that life is more important then death?” Myown asks.  “I don’t want to make a point.  I want to make it a mandate.  Life and everyone in life is more important then the dogma that makes religion.  The fact that dogma can bring down a whole race of civilization because of the inability of thought outside the group drives me insane.”

“Sounds to me like you have some strong opinions on that?”  Myown asks. “They are my passion.  The human race and anyone oppressed by being different.”

Myown looks to his producer and finds they are out of time.  “I am so happy you joined me for Conversations with…”  Myown stood and gently placed his hand upon the shoulder of his guest.  He then offered his hand.  Miy took the hand and used it to stand.  Both men shook and both smiled.  “Please join me again sometime,” he said to Miy and to the audience, “Everyone, please join me again next time for Conversations with…”

Fade to black.