Finally, another end

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 33
*******************

Back at headquarters, The Bad Guys circled around their loot - a veritable treasure trove of a small amount of groceries. Yum!

Circling was pretty much all they did, though. Nobody was eating. Nobody was looking at the food. Not even the lettuce (which was far greener than usual, considering the season) caught a wandering eye.

All eyes were on the toy blimp, sitting just outside the circle, swaying gently on its elliptical side, back and forth in the slight breeze that flowed through the cavernous hall.

Upon further review, the Bad Guys’ circle was more of an ellipse itself once taking into account the curvature of Sally’s tail. Whatever the shape was, it stayed that way, frozen, for minutes.

After these minutes passed, Rog moved: “I’ll put this thing in one of the closets.”

Midnight stopped him: “No. We’ll take it back.”

Rog: “That’s a nice thought, but you saw what happened. The door wouldn’t open until we stole it! We are stuck with this thing. We’re stuck with it…”

Midnight: “Then we’ll leave it outside the door. Surely there are limits to our chains.”

Cal: “Why did we even do this?”

Rog: “I just explained that, man. We had to!”

Cal: “No, we didn’t. There was hardly a gun to our head. We hadn’t eaten for one day, and we stole an old widow’s most cherished possession – her blimp.”

Rog slumped back into the ellipse: “Her zeppelin…”

Cal: “Nobody calls it that anymore.”

Rog: “The note did.”

Cal: “That’s the problem.”

Midnight: “We’ll take it back. The food, the blimpzlin thing… all of it. We promised we’d fight back if we were ordered to deprive anyone of their humanity. We failed, but we’re not yet condemned.”

Everyone agreed. A rush of adrenaline swept over the company. For once and at last, the adrenaline targeted a task that was fundamentally good.

The sweeping rush succeeded in complimenting more than troop morale. It also fed the wind, helping to push the blimp off its repetitive course of rocking, away towards the open air, and then down, down, down into the empty pool.

POP!

Cheap rubber met the end of a scorpion corpse, and that was that.

Sally left. Rog left. Midnight picked up her roses, burying her face behind them; she left.

Cal stared at nothing. There was nothing to stare at.

He did, however, eventually read his new note:

Congratulations. You are level 2 Bad Guys. More (plus) on back.

See you here tomorrow. Plus – These are your pants. Obviously.

END CHAPTER 1

The Fall of Man and Blimps

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 32
*******************

During the second chorus (which, in this version, comprised the entirety of the song), Cal crescendoed to cover a slip-up with the ladder. If the task at hand weren’t so depressing on every front, this mistake might have been construed as a coordinated attempt to lengthen the song for the sake of comedy and humiliation. Instead, it was just another horror.

“…to the bottom of every bottle, there are words in my head, it’s what I’m yelling for yeeah, yeeah, yeeah…”

The zeppelin came down. The door opened. Midnight and Rog rushed out.

“…yeeah, yeeah, yeeah.” The song ended.

Geraldine applauded loudly, and Cal experienced what it was like to receive the most undeserving applause of all time. He simply stood there, comatose as a result of everything.

Geraldine had a tear in her eye: “Oh my! Nobody’s sung to me with that much emotion since my husband… In fact, nobody’s sung to me at all since then…” She stopped to wipe the tear. “Here, young man. You’ve been so polite to me, and so wonderful in general, that I think you deserve this.” With another old lady wink, she handed Cal a box of granola bars. “We just won’t tell those silly police.”

Cal nodded his thanks, perhaps involuntarily as a result of the guilt weighing down his conscience. A braver man might here admit his misdeeds. A more honorable man might choose hunger over evil. A more centered man might resist the debauched commands of a piece of paper...

The notes had already achieved power. Cal drifted out the door, as river debris.

Geraldine shouted a shout of realization: “Wait a second!”

Cal turned, pale.

Geraldine: “I know this cat! It’s Sally! She’s one of my lot!” She lifted Sally up, offering her to Cal. “Here, take her along with you. She must like you, and she knows how to get home.”

Thus, the first of Cal’s cohorts he really learned something about was the cat. Of course, he was in no state to care one way or the other.

This is How

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 31
************

If the Bad Guys were going to finish this off, Cal needed to do more than gently discuss photography. He needed to do something loud in its distraction. He needed to follow the cat’s example.

Geraldine began to rise with another salmony snack. Cal swung around to a position oriented diametrically opposite the undesirable action. Sally fwipped her tail, excited for the food and the show.

Cal: “Umm, so Miss Geraldine, I wanted to sing something for you.”

Geraldine: “Oh my! I don’t think I deserve anything like that, but a wise woman never rejects a serenade. Croon away, young man.”

Cal delayed, not yet ready to unveil his ineptness: “Yes, umm, is there anything particular you want to hear.”

Geraldine: “How about Dillies in My Basket?”

Cal: “I can’t say I know that one.”

Geraldine: “Okay. How about Ross ‘n Bess’s Easter Eggland?”

Cal: “I can’t say anyone knows that one.” Midnight silently giggled in the distance. “Maybe I’ll just do one I know.”

Geraldine: “Ah! I’ve got it!”

Cal: “Yes?”

Geraldine: “I’m sure you’ll know this one. They play it on a station for younger people all the time. I don’t know why, but sometimes my radio gets stuck there and I have to listen to the stuff for hours. I can’t say I like the crunkier tunes, but there is one song that always gets my foot tapping.”

Cal: “Yes?”

Geraldine: “I think it’s called Remind Me, by the Quarterback.”

Cal: “You don’t mean Nickelback, do you?”

Geraldine: “Oh my! That’s it!”

Cal repeated: “You don’t mean Nickelback, do you?”

Geraldine: “That’s it alright!”

Cal sighed, and began to sing.

Uninspiration

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 30
***************

Sally mrowed loudly and leapt towards the old woman, paws outstretched. Before Cal could even think to make a move of his own, Sally blinded Geraldine!

Metaphorically, that is.

Geraldine had reached below the counter to retrieve cat treats. Sally was currently contentedly consuming one. Cal observed, awestruck by the fortune of what had either been incredible feline strategy or incredible feline hunger. The lady/cat exchange had distracted Geraldine from the thump of Midnight and Rog’s door collision, a thump that just so happened to occur again soon after the first, and again (though altered expectations decreased thump intensity in turn). The door was not opening.

Geraldine: “Why hello there, miss. You’re a hungry little kitty, aren’t you? You haven’t been hanging around with this polite young man, have you?”

Cal (genuinely): “Actually, she has been. The last two days this cat showed up at the weirdest place.”

Geraldine: “Oh my! What is this strange and possibly wonderful place both you and the cat visited?”

The place was definitely strange. It was definitely possibly wonderful. It was definitely kind of establishing itself as the headquarters of the people trying to rob Geraldine’s. Therefore, Derwood County Community Pool definitely couldn’t be mentioned.

Cal: “I don’t remember.”

Geraldine: “Really? You can only remember that it was weird? My, a place with that effect truly must be strange.”

Geraldine looked down as she shuffled around for another treat. Cal looked over at Midnight and Rog. They were visibly frightened. Cal looked up above the intractable door. He was visibly frightened. The Bad Guys all looked over at a stepladder Geraldine used to place higher-up groceries. It was not visibly frightened.

The zeppelin floated in its place. It visibly belonged there, where it had been for more than half a century.

Unfortunately, circumstances inspire change.
*******************************

Moving Along

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 29
**************

Cal took the hit in stride: “Umm… What?”

Geraldine: “I remember polite young men when I see them; there being so few of them anymore.” She winked a kindly old lady wink as they dropped the storage crate at its destination. She then headed back towards the counter, where, upon arrival, she would have a direct line of sight to the pilferers, who (as tends to be the case concerning pilferers) currently weren’t being so polite.

Cal parried again: “So, umm, I have a question for you?”

Geraldine persisted towards the counter: “Wonderful! I’m always happy when my customers - or my non-customers who are polite - wish to test my knowledge. It makes me feel young again, in an old and experienced kind of way.”

Cal didn’t understand: “Yes. Good, then, my question is, having to do with…” He spotted something worth mentioning. “What do you think about the photos of us?” This probably wasn’t the best something to spot and mention.

Geraldine: “Oh my! I was thinking about those a lot today, actually.” Cal knew this was the end. He’d be interrogated on the reason for police suspicion, during which Geraldine would reference her dead husband; Cal’s mind would sink into a bog of philosophy as he cross-analyzed the heroism of World War II versus his own, stagnant, dissatisfied life situation; guilt would begin to overwhelm upon the conclusions not only that the older generation’s sacrifice had inspired him to do little, but also that he was essentially spitting on their sacrifice at this very moment, as he watched his fellow thieves creep towards the exit; and he would crack.

Geraldine: “I think I’d like the pictures better if they weren’t black-and-white. Now, not everyone has the skin to pull off color, but you and your friends each have excellent complexion. Yes, yes, I’m sure I’m right. I’ll talk to the police about this next time.”

Cal calmed. The seconds Geraldine had spent building up false fear and then erasing it with unexpected banality had allowed Midnight and Rog to reach the sliding doors. They hadn’t even needed supermarket-themed ghillie suits – an innovation Cal had prayed for a bit amongst the rest of his panicking. To complete the mission, Cal simply needed to keep Geraldine’s attention in his direction a short while longer…

Sally jumped up on the counter and meowed. Geraldine looked in her direction, which looked towards the exit.

Midnight and Rog hurried outside, and they failed, running into non-responsive doors.

Geraldine reached towards the photos. No, she passed those. She reached to the left, circa the telephone to call the police. No, she passed that. She reached below the counter, where store owners are prone to keep silent alarms.

Shotguns and Kalashnikovs are also prone to be kept behind store counters.

Cal uncalmed.

No Days Off

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 28
****************

The electronic sliding doors – the one modern convenience of Geraldine’s otherwise cash-only depot – slowly slid open. Their modernity was limited in pace.

In front of the Bad Guys was arranged all the candy they could hope for, in addition to a lot of other foods probably more deserving of a place in their starved bellies. Sweets could wait and should wait. This was an errand of necessity, not pleasure, despite the inherent excitement the heist had begun to stir. Cal, Midnight, Rog, and even Sally featured a visible twinkle in their eyes, each in their left eye, their right eyes remaining unobstructed for scouting purposes.

Consistent in her old-fashionedness, Geraldine was not there. Whilst attending to whatever it was that needed attending, she’d abandoned the counter in good faith to the integrity of the customer. She’d also abandoned on the counter the criminal photos of the three human customers who’d just entered.

Rog: “Maybe we should come back.”

Cal: “What?”

Rog: “This has to be a trap.”

Cal: “I do sense a nearby blow dart.”

Rog pointed at a package of Twizzlers: “Those could easily be constructed into blowdarts.”

Cal: “And what would serve to be the poison shot out of them?”

Rog: “According to the Surgeon General, the Twizzle itself.”

Cal: “Twizzle - The singular tense of Twizzler?”

Rog: “Yes.”

Cal: “Of course. In conclusion, I disagree. This is a great opportunity. Not only can we take the food we need; we can also leave the money for it at the register.”

Rog: “What about the blimp?”

Midnight took charge: “Screw the blimp. Get the food. Leave the money. Let’s move.” The boys obeyed, each falling into habit and picking up a shopping bin as they did. The robber band hurried to the produce section, where they rapidly identified the ripest fruit and veg before hurriedly (but gently, so as to prevent bruising) adding the goods to their haul. The most casual burglary of all time had begun, in haste! Dairy followed, with meats next. Issues concerning what Cal the poultritarian could eat threatened to slow the affair, but when he confirmed an affinity to turkey the problem was solved. At this rate of success, the time Fort Knox would learn to fear the infamous Bad Guys was just a casual Friday away.

A voice called out: “Excuse me. Could whoever is out there please come help me with this crate?” The voice was Geraldine’s.

Midnight whispered to Cal, who, like Midnight, and Rog, and Sally, had been frozen for the twenty seconds that had warily and unwarily passed since Geraldine spoke: “Go.”

Cal: “What?” Cal didn’t whisper this so much as he choked it out all pubescent-like.

Midnight: “You remind her of her husband. Go!” It made enough sense. Geraldine already knew someone was there. And she was an old lady who needed help. Cal went.

Geraldine looked up from the crate she was hunched over: “Oh my! What a polite young man. Now you lift that end over there, and I’ll lift this end.” Apparently she hadn’t recognized him.

Or maybe she had.

Geraldine: “Now don’t you go stealing anything.”

Cal gulped: “Excuse me, ma’am.”

Geraldine: “This box is full of those things you put on your car wheel to keep people from stealing them. I thought it would be funny if I made a joke about stealing them, seeing as how they’re anti-theft devices. It’s a bit of old-time humor for you.”

Cal was still panicking, but he made an effort to recognize this sub-par comedic attempt: “I see, I see. Very good, ma’am.”

Geraldine: “Oh my! You really are a polite young man. It’s too bad I still can’t sell anything to you, what with the police order and all.”

She had.

PS I Hate You

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 27
*****************

Rog yelled at Cal: “Make sure she stays on the towel!” Sally sat still atop the towel, in the backseat of Rog’s large, tight-spaced car, where she hadn’t so much as twitched a tail for the ten minutes she’d already been there. Only five of those minutes had been spent driving, with the other half consisting of Rog arranging a stick-based boundary around the towel. Here is what was said at that time:

Cal: “Those sticks will make more of a mess than the cat.”

Here is what was happening at this time:

Cal: “The sticks fell on the floor again.”

Rog: “Pick up sticks! Pick them!”

The ridiculousness of the situation obvious, it was unfortunate that a ubiquitous somberness played trump. Cal and Midnight each clutched their most recent notes in their hands, as if they were horrible grenades set to explode upon a fist unclenching. They were not non-horrible grenades. Sally’s stomach grumbled at a pitch slightly above the rest of the caravans'. And Rog’s anger mostly served to distract himself from the task at hand – a task that referred to neither “driving to Geraldine’s” nor “unreasonably keeping the cat but not the sticks off the interior.”

Everybody had accepted the need to acquire food. Everybody had consented to the idea that thievery was the only option left to fulfill that need. Everybody had even reluctantly submitted to the orders that the targeted corporation would not be a corporation at all, but rather the Mom & Pop (archaic) store known as Geraldine’s.

Nobody had accepted the P.S. demand.

It may be recalled that Geraldine hung a memento of her deceased spouse over her store’s entryway. It may be assumed that this is now relevant.

P.S. Take the zeppelin.

No Title

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 26
***********

Cal: “Is that it, then? We’re going to accept the authority of the note, just like that?”

Midnight: “For now we are. Like anything, though, there are limits.”

Rog: “That is true, my dearest.”

Midnight: “Do I have to repeat myself?” Rog slunk.

Cal: “I’m not going to kill anyone.”

Midnight: “Neither am I.”

Rog (slightly unslunking): “Even in this darkened state that my queen, in her misunderstood wisdom, deems fit to send me, I would never, on my honor, take another human life!”

Cal: “Another as in you’ve already taken one?”

Rog: “Another as in any, you knave! Stop ruining my soliloquys.”

Cal: “You’re alone in doing that.”

Midnight smiled: “We are agreed. Even in our purported role as ‘Bad Guys,’ we will not kill. Should we extend that precept to not depriving anyone of their humanity in general?”

Cal: “Sounds good to me, though I’d proffer the addition of animality on some level.”

Rog: “We already killed all those scorpions.”

Cal: “I know, but that was a special case, wasn’t it?”

Midnight: “They all will be.”

Cal had no response other than to subconsciously question the extent of his own naiveté.

Midnight: “Also, we have to rob Geraldine’s.”

Cal and Rog were together again: “What?!”

Midnight: “It’s the only store in Derwood that isn’t going to have security cameras.”

Cal: “Come on. My mom goes to that store.” Midnight didn’t look convinced. “Certainly we can consider my ‘other cities’ idea now. It makes no sense to rob a place in your own town.”

Midnight visibly empathized, but she also shook her head: “I’m sorry, Cal.”

Cal: “This doesn’t make any sense. You aren’t making any sense.”

It was then that he noticed the note Midnight held in her hand. It was the same note as before, which is why the note in the other hand appeared so ominous.

Chew on this

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 25
*****************

Everybody had the same note again. Sally again held her own note in her mouth. Everyone missed, again, how this had happened.

Nobody really had anything to say, so Rog chimed in: “I’m hungry.” Nobody really had anything to say.

Eventually, Cal avoided the matter entirely: “Has anyone else tried asking the people they live with to get food for them?”

Rog: “None of my roommates were around when I woke up. I checked the refrigerator, the cupboards, the couch, the medicine cabinet. Nothing. Not even toothpaste.”

Cal hmm-ed, probably worrying about what would have happened if Rog had found something edible in the medicine cabinet, before responding in kind: “That’s pretty much what my house was like today. No mom. No food. I don’t remember the toothpaste situation.”

It was Midnight’s turn, so she added: “Sure. Same.” The details were conspicuous in their absence, and would have been questioned in a more astute setting. The current scene, however, included a cat, a scorpion, and two boys who moments ago realized they might have been talking to a girl with unbrushed mouths.

Midnight moved on: “So, which shop are we going to rob?”

Rog attempted to respond through the side of his face, aiming his breath over Midnight’s right shoulder: “What?! You want us to obey the note?”

Cal smirked at Rog’s comic display of insecurity, but he agreed with the spoken sentiment, aiming his breath over the left: “We must still have other choices before we commit to crime.”

Midnight: “And what would those choices be? None of our usual cupboards are stocked. The local law has expressed its discontent with our desire to buy food. And personally, I don’t trust the land around our modern community to harbor anything safe to eat. The council loves to canvass the city in bug spray.”

Rog: “True, but the council is justified after some of those mosquito summers.”

Midnight: “They had to do something, or else risk losing the moneyed population. Despite my natural inclinations, I can’t say for sure that I wouldn’t have voted against the decision.”

Rog: “A wise perspective, my dearest.”

Cal halted the tangent: “We can go to other cities to get food.”

Rog: “Yes! Far away cities, like Tokyo.”

Cal: “Or closer ones, like Rocktree.”

Rog: “Yes! Or closer ones, since my car doesn’t get great mileage – one of its few drawbacks.” Rog winked at Midnight - an increasing occurrence.

Midnight: “There is no reason to expect better luck elsewhere.” She held up the note. “This does not exist outside of our other experiences. A note told us scorpions were going to attack. They did. Now a note tells us we’re going to have to steal food if we want to eat. We do.”

Rog: “Another wise perspective from my dearest. I choose my dearests wisely.”

This One's Longer

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 24
*****************

Midnight put down the bag and picked up Sally: “Hello, little missy. Were you here all night?” That said, both females turned to glare at their counterparts.

Rog instantly jumped to his own defense: “I thought she lived here!”

Midnight: “I’m pretty sure we established the ‘collar=not feral’ system yesterday.”

Cal: “I was last to leave.”

Midnight: “So it’s your fault, too.”

Cal: “No, I mean I was the absolute last to leave. The cat…”

Midnight interrupted to correct: “Sally.”

Cal: “Sally must have already gone.”

Rog: “He’s lying!”

Cal responded: “You exited first. How would you know?”

Rog pointed. There was the terrarium Cal had used the night before to catch the final, blind scorpion. Inside was the final, blind scorpion.

Rog: “The scorpion was the last one to leave. Not you. Objection!”

Cal: “You’re out of order, and, technically, the scorpion never exited, so…”

Rog: “Sustained!”

Sally meowed again. And again.

Midnight: “Sounds to me like another empty stomach.”

Rog: “Could she eat the scorpion?”

Cal: “The poison would be a problem.”

Midnight: “Sounds to me like unwitty sarcasm.”

Cal sighed: “More like unwitting sarcasm.” Midnight yay-ed. Cal continued. “Also, I didn’t save the scorpion so that it would get eaten. It’s probably hungry itself, although I don’t know what to feed it. Do scorpions eat plants?”

Rog: “Nope. They eat insects.”

Cal: “Says the boy who didn’t know they were poisonous.”

Rog: “I knew that scorpions were poisonous. I didn’t know that cats couldn’t eat the poison, seeing as how tolerances vary from species to species.” Rog smirked, imagining this sounded a lot smarter than it was.

Midnight: “Speaking of plants…” She revealed the mystery of the bag. It was a small vase filled with red roses. “Ta da! Now what did you guys bring to improve the décor?”

Rog replied with the only answer he would: “Myself.”

Cal started to fish around in his pockets for something that would provide at least a witty comment, if not actual decor. Instead he found a note, which provided the following:

Bad Guys Need Food. PS More on back.

(back) Steal it. Obviously.
*****************

Not hunger.

This One's Shorter

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 23
**************

As the trio walked towards the pool – the sectioned sun rays of the fall forest approaching relatively, through the giant window – Cal noticed Midnight looking at him.

Cal: “What?”

Midnight: “Surely you have something to say. I’m carrying a mysterious paper bag.”

Cal (thinking): “Umm… okay: What’s in the bag?”

Midnight: “I meant something a bit more interesting; more suspicious, with a tinge of bitterness, or maybe cuteness.”

Cal: “Honestly, I don’t know what to say anymore. You’ve already pigeonholed me as the sarcastic guy, so how am I supposed to play that up without being a repetitive bore?”

Midnight: “It’s not repetitive if it’s creative.”

Cal: “Creating two Earths would be repetitive.”

Midnight: “Not if one were different than the other. You’re thinking too much. Just say something witty.”

Cal: “Something like what?”

Midnight: “That’s your job.”

Sally appeared: “Meow.”

Cal: “Something like that?” Midnight didn’t listen.

Day 4/2

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 22
***************

Cal struggled out of Rog’s car. He ruminated more on the impracticality of such an automobile (the sleek Hummer HX), but he didn’t speak the thoughts aloud. Talking had led to some confusion the last time tried, and Cal was already well-supplied in that area. Once again he stood in front of Derwood County Community Pool. Once again he had no idea why he was there, besides the suggestion of randomly-apparating notes. And once, again, he was there with people he barely knew.

Sure, relationships had begun to form. That’s inevitable after any first meeting, especially when followed by a scorpion attack and group starvation. Still, Cal knew little more of his compatriots than he had the day before. Let’s see, they each owned more than one set of clothing. Rog liked to wear his goggles with various sets of clothing. And Midnight looked good in various sets of clothing. Anything else?

Yes. They each wore clothing.

As Rog went to lock the car, Midnight ordered him to “Hold on,” at which point she reached under the passenger’s seat and pulled out a paper bag. “Alright.” Rog could continue. Beep beep.

Rog: “Is that a present for me? My princess, I am so embarrassed.”

Midnight: “Don’t be. The present’s not for you.”

Rog: “Who is it for, then? Surely not him.” Cal realized that he did know more about these people than he gave himself credit for. Rog was insanely jealous (in addition to, perhaps, being jealously insane). Midnight wasn’t attracted to such people.

Midnight (smiling): “Nope. It’s for an abandoned building.”

Rog tried to save himself the embarrassment he oh-so-recently foreshadowed: “Good good. I’m sure the building is very deserving, as is anything which receives your most sought after attention.” Midnight did not respond, and the group entered the abandoned building.

Mage Casts Confuse

Bad Guys Need Flowers - Pt. 21
*******************

Cal struggled into the back of Rog’s Hummer. “How can the biggest vehicle in the history of man not have comfortable seating for three?”

Rog: “Because it's the new Hummer HX, and because the ride is meant for me and a lady, amigo.”

Cal: “I don't follow the logic, but it’s good to see that your delusion replaced your depression, compadre.”

Rog: “I don’t speak Spanish."

Midnight (to Cal): “There are obviously much larger vehicles than cars… Wait…”

Cal: “I don’t know what’s going on.”

Midnight: “Never mind. The exaggeration wasn’t the problem. In referencing vehicles, you implied man, so you didn’t need that one phrase. ‘The history of man’ was excessive.”

Cal: “It always is.”

Midnight: “Yay! Much better.”

Rog: “Now I don’t know what’s going on.”

Midnight: “None of us do. For instance, why did we get into this car?”

Rog: “Because it’s awesome.”

Midnight: “Think it over, Rog. I’ll come back to you.”

Rog’s eyes glazed over, as he savored the moment. “She knows my name…” She ignored him.

Cal (shrugs): “To go somewhere.”

Midnight: “Better, but not so much. I’d like more detail.”

Rog returned: “To go somewhere awesome.”

Midnight: “Maybe, but are you basing the awesomeness of that somewhere on the fact that your car will be there?”

Rog: “Yes.”

Midnight: “Then you’re wrong. Cal?”

Rog’s eyes narrowed: “She knows his name…” She ignored him.

Cal: “To go somewhere with an answer.”

Midnight: “Maybe, but are you basing the answer of that question on the premise that an answer will be there?”

Cal: “No.”

Midnight: “Right. And why is that?”

Cal: “Because I still don’t know what’s going on.”

Midnight: “Very good. Let’s go, Rog.”

Rog: “Yes! That’s me! Where to?”

Midnight: “To the pool, of course.”

Rog: “Of course! I knew that.”

Cal (aside): “I didn’t.”

Old News Bears

Note from The Editor: Bad Guys Need Flowers will be returning tomorrow. A bug in our satellite (the one that's receiving the manuscript from the future) caused the delay. In the meantime, enjoy this Top 10 filler, sent in by avid fan of Six Lines productions, Tartar:
*****************

Top 10s of 2007s

Movies (comprised of 90% of the 2007 movies I've seen)
10. Pirates of the Caribbean #3 - It didn't need to be anything spectacular. I like pirates, the sea, and Keira Knightley. I was satisfied.
9. Enchanted - The animated princess was hotter, but it tried, and I always respect family movies that try.
8. Simpsons Movie - I know there were too many jokes. Still, the first half of the movie made me think that maybe I'd been missing something by skipping the show these past few years. Then I saw one of the newer shows...
7. Darjeeling Limited - I don't care if this is his worst movie ever (not that I have an opinion on that). It's still different than the standard fare, and sometimes that's all I care about.
6. Grindhouse movies - Death Proof was fun except for the diner conversation scene. Planet Terror wasn't as crazy as it could have been. Quentin needs to stop trying to act. Even though I didn't see these movies together, I think the package was a reel deal (TM jokes'r'us).
5. Ratatouille - My family didn't agree with the hype. I didn't really get how the hype had gotten so big. Regardless of the hype, it's another good step for CGI movies, away from formulaic "gentle comedy" and towards substantial, flavorful cinema (that joke was mine. Notice the subtlety).
4. This is England - I can't say I loved it when I saw it, not exactly being in the mood for a serious movie. In retrospect, it was an extremely personal story which I didn't want to vomit on, which is always impressive. It was definitely the best period piece I saw last year, excellently portraying England during the Falklands conflict - a time I knew nothing about.
3. I Am Legend - I remain on the side that didn't like the ending, wondering what a movie entirely composed of isolation would be like. The mannequin stuff was incredible, and I'm very happy that such a dark movie has achieved such success. As for I Am Legend 2, I have my doubts.
2. No Country for Old Men - I was caught off-guard when it ended, unable to figure out how I felt about it until the next day. Yeah, okay, I liked it. I didn't really feel the Tommy Lee Jones character, which was the glue holding together the message (I think) that society can morph into disgusting, unrecognizable shapes, but I look forward to a viewing in the future where I can add that to the mix.
1. Hot Fuzz - The most fun I've had at the theater in a long time. The reason I think more people didn't love it is because they didn't know what to expect. This is satire, mixed with homage (to crap like Bad Boys II), mixed with real movie-making, and you've just got to be up for it. Don't worry about the story, if you don't like it. Worry about the storytelling. The first half is mindful, clever jokes, and the second half brings those jokes back around for some mindless violence. I've watched Shaun of the Dead more than any other recent movie (despite a weak ending, not echoed in Hot Fuzz), and I've watched this troupe's English TV series Spaced twice, so yes I am a biased fan. I am a biased fan for a reason. I think these are smart people who have suffered under the same pop culture we have, loved rolling in this mud as much as we have, and are now transforming their useless memories into pure, cinematic fun.
Dishonorable mentions: Spiderman 3 (reinforced my hatred for all of the movies I for-whatever-reason watched), Superbad (too much junk clouding the cleverness)

TV
10. Planet Earth - I only saw a couple of episodes, but I saw it on a laptop and it was beautiful. Give me an HDTV and I'll lick it.
9. PTI - This sports banter daily is the best on TV, and it's on my list because it's available in free audio podcast form which provided my only reason for walking to school most days.
8. The Office - Not always perfect, but still good, and I still want to do Pam.
7. Flight of the Conchords - I wasn't convinced when Arun sent me clips. Then I became fully convinced. Then not. Then yes. The most inconsistent show, but still provided some of the best minutes of TV last year.
6. Conan - A boring choice, but his show truly is one of the biggest reasons I miss America when I'm out of it. I also noticed more new, creative, and experimental sketches last year than usual, which is why I've listed such a comfortable choice so high.
5. Scrapped Princess - An anime. I'll talk about it soon.
4. Extras - This was way lower on my list until I watched the finale, which I loved. The best send-up of modern culture yet, with a great message, wrapped up in reassuring, non-romantic relationships.
3. House - It was the first year I watched it, and I loved it. In my heart, I really do want to be as much of a jerk as House is. I know it's the same formula every week, and I don't care. The dialogue is the best on TV (not the most realistic, but the wittiest), and I'm always surprised by how deep the philosophy manages to delve on what I expected to be a predictable, flat medical show.
2. The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya - See elsewhere.
1. Battlestar Galactica - You know. The third season dips in the middle, but the surrounding, toaster-warmed shells still make it taste good. I have minimal doubts that the fourth and final season (starting early April) will be incredible.
Semi-honorable mentions - Heroes, Dexter (kind of - ask Jigsaw), X-Play, Tim and Eric Awesome Show Great Job!

Guilty Pleasures
10. Nihilism - I know we're supposed to be getting excited about the election, but after two political science degrees I've become the most cynical man in town. The election, as well as the rest of the news, means very little to me, and not being held down by real-life events is freeing in a guilty way. Talk to me about Pokemon issues. Those I care about.
9. Harvest Moon - Running out of new games and new money at the end of '07, I returned to my bread and butter that is farming simulation. The game is not very good, but I really want to see whether or not my son Twain grows up to be a farmer like his old man.
8. The cold - I do hate it, but I feel more alive shoveling snow, hiking through Scottish highlands, struggling against the elements, than I usually do.
7. KFC macaroni and cheese - After my mom and sister got sick as well (revealing my sickness to be non-product-related), I can now enjoy this low-quality macaroni and cheese guilt-free for at least a week past its buy-date.
6. "Umbrella" - Why not? It's the only song that I know came out this year, and I can get down to it, sho'.
5. Fan service - This refers to, amongst other things, the anatomical animation I've experienced in some of my anime ventures. In all honesty, I don't feel guilty about this at all. Get into it, or get over it.
4. Pokemon - My most-played game of the year (the Diamond version), clocking in around 80 hours so far I think. It's the perfect "play while watching the Orioles lose" game. I haven't caught 'em all yet, but I have seen 'em all. That's pretty good, right?
3. Weddings - My quasi-anti-marriage agenda shouldn't admit this, but, hey, they're big parties. No I didn't succeed in going home with anyone, but I'm pretty sure I talked to a girl or two. And I'm pretty sure they'd remember me if you mentioned the smell.
2. Not having a job - As depressing as it is exhilirating. Never do I feel more like the world is at my fingertips than when I'm in my basement, late at night, with no commitments the next day. Then the world tells me it wants money.
1. Heroes - I think we all kind of realized how bad this show is this year. Any time a character would speak, or any time Micah would squirm his little fuckface on screen, the message "this show sucks" was pounded into our head. Nevertheless, the camaraderie of it all, the Kristen Bell of it all, and, may we never forget, the shirtless Peter of it all, firmly plants Heroes as one of the guiltiest pleasures of them all.