I got the best idea last night, working. Not sure how it happened but it did and I was EXCITED! So, basically the whole idea about this story is that there will be no names and/or character descriptions. Of course there are 'nicknames'. I want you, the reader, to be able to place yourself in the story…like it was you and your bestie…so…ENJOY!
"We ready to air?" came the question from the other, darker room of the basement studio.
"…perhaps!" I called back, hooking the last of the wires from the camera to the laptop. Hitting a couple choice keys, the screen lit up, illuminating our desk station. Just a long desk, two dark chairs and the old stone wall as a backdrop.
My tv buddy walked into the room, smile on her face and tossed a red folder toward me. I caught it defiantly, giving her the stick eye then marched over to the desk to plop heavily in one of the chairs. Rolling her eyes, she followed and took the free chair.
"So, what are the topics today?"
"Did ya read the folder?" a brow cocked but she just shrugged lightly. Sighing, I set an elbow on the desk and rested my chin in the palm of my hand. "And how are we such a hit?"
"Our dashing good looks and loving personalities?" she offered with a cheesy grin.
"Oh yes, that must be it." was my sarcastic reply, rolling my eyes this time.
Her mouth opened, to reply with some scathing remark no doubt but the flashing red light from the camera cut her off. Instead, we faced the camera and waited. We knew it would be a moment before the live feed kicked in. The show always started with a shot of our studio desk and wall then went to flashing images. All important events in America's history; from Obama's inauguration to the murder of Abe Lincoln. Of course the last one was acted out by some very talented men.
Leaning way forward, I turned the laptop to face us then proceeded to shift it side to side, trying to get the built in camera to spy us both. "I'm ready for my close-up." making kissy faces, my partner in crime groaned, smacking my arm.
"Get a grip."
I stuck my tongue out and made a face before tuning back to the camera. Just in the nick of time as the feed kicked in. both of us sat there, staring into the screen before our lips corked upward. "Allllllloha kiddies! Welcome to that magical moment of everyone's life." my hand flared to the side, doing this rollie-thing that looked all sophisticated. At least, that's I've seen on the boob tube. "Your first stop on the underground tunnel for uncensored information." I paused and the two of us spoke together. "We are here to tell you what's really going on in the world."
My companion straightened in her chair, folding her arms on the cluttered table before her and leaning toward the camera. "As you know, I am Seymour Butts today and my associate here is-"
I snapped my sings with a flick of my wrist. "Anita Hummer." we never use our real names, since the government wishes to silence us. Plus, these cool nicknames were like a 'hey, fuck you government' ploy. Our last show, I was I.C. Wiener and 'Seymour' was Long Duc Dong. "Sorry 'bout the delay folks, took a little time to shake 'the man' but, obviously, here we are."
"We gave them a good little virus to shove up their arfts!" Seymour grinned and we both hooted and cheered. "Never mess with the crazy bitches of 'Uncensored'!" and yes, that is the name of our show. Uncensored. Might be surprised just how popular we are.
"Ok! Now I know ya lot are wondeirn' what's on the agenda for today, eh? Chicago, friends. I know, I know! What could we," a hand went to my chest. "Possibly know you don't, right?" leaning forward, I cocked a brow to stare at the camera. "Do ya really question us? Really?" reaching before me, I picked up a picture and stuck it camera lens. It was of some military men on black uniforms fighting a bot. One of the bad ones. "What is there to be said about this battle that already hasn't?" I questioned from behind the photo.
Seymour pushed the picture aside so the camera could see just her face and it focused. "Our world leaders are retarded monkeys." she stated it simply, as if everyone knew. "I mean really? What were these ninny's thinking? Sure, let's send the autobots packing, the only thing that stopped the Deceptiscum from killing us!" and I tell you, people love the name Deceptiscum.
"Idiots." I scoffed in the background, finally lowering the now crinkled photo. "Who honestly listens to the bad guys? They have done nothing but attack and kill humans since Mission City but suddenly, and I say that with all the sarcasm I can muster, they claim to just want resources and then leave us alone."
"Pfffft." both of us snorted, waving a hand to dismiss the thought.
"We know the world leaders were trying to only think of everyone else…but have ya watched any alien movies? That's like…common sense guys!" Seymour exclaimed, gesturing wildly.
"But, in the end, it all worked out, I suppose." I started, calming from our ranting. "The good guys came back to save our asses. After we banned them from our country…our planet. You know the saying, 'turn the other cheek when hit'. That's just what they did, when we should have never done them as such."
Again, Seymour leaned toward the camera so it could get a close up. "Let's learn from our mistakes and trust the kick-ass, good guy robots, eh?"
"Just 'cause they kicked Deceptiscum ass this time don't mean the bad guys won't be back. We'll probably always be a target now and we are in nooooooooo condition to defend ourselves-"
"Did you see their weapons?" Seymour cut me off. "They were all like 'booom, boom, boom.' and humans were like 'Oh no….!'," her hands swung by her head. "And the bad guys were like 'muah ha ha ha ha ha'." she proceeded to reenact the battle, containing explosions, cries, laughing….the whole nine yards.
I just stared, adopting a 'WTF' look before turning to face the camera. Clearly the look on my face now was saying 'See what I haveta deal with' then shook my head. "Sorry folks, Seymour Butts gets a little excitable sometimes." the dirty thoughts connected with the comment had me snickering.
And people think this show is professional.
"Anywho." I squatted at her arm and nodded toward laptop screen.
"Er…sorry." blushing lightly at antics, she sat back down and straightened herself "Back to the topic at hand. Battle of Chicago!" she thrust a hand in the air and held it like so. Sighing, my head dropped so that my chin touched my chest. "Ok so, we got a bit of information on some of the men in the photo's." taking my crumpled photo, she held it back to the camera. "These guys are apart of a very hush-hush military group called NEST."
"Names will be withheld for safety reasons." I added suddenly.
"Yes." Seymour shot me a look then went back to the photo.
"Although," pausing, I pulled out another photo of two men and showed our viewers. One was decked in all black while the other was in the regular, green fatigues. Will Lennox and Robert Epps. "I would like to meet these two." cocking my head to the side, I peered at the photo with a smirk. "Delicious, delicious men."
"Anita, please contain your hormones." she sighed.
"Anita Hummer from those two." I muttered, eyeing them with hungry eyes.
When I noticed not a sound coming from my partner, I looked up. Her face was red, shoulders shaking from laughter. Unable to stop herself any longer, she burst into laughter. Loud and rich sounds echoing around the studio. "I can't believe you just said that…on the web!"
"Like they're watching?" I scoffed, arms crossing. For a couple minutes, she just laughed. I mean head thrown back, chair back on two legs. When she was finally able to rein herself in, she had to wipe the tears from her eyes. "Alright, enough getting off track."
"Yes…enough of that." Seymour took the photo from me and held up another. A blonde lady in glasses. "Charlotte Mearing. Bitch and a half." looking directly at the lens, as if at her, she frowned. "Should've listened to the boy. He warned ya, what would happen, the Deceptiscum's plans. Everything."
"Just another 'holier then tho' woman that thinks she has to be some tough woman to get anywhere in life." I shook my head sadly. "And that's not necessarily not a bad thing but you gotta know when to bluff, fold your hand or play what you're dealt with."
"It's what politics are alllll 'bout, lady." she tisked, wagging a finger before smiling. "Time to move on to the real issue on hand. Robots." yet another photo was held up and it showed a trio of the tall bots. One had red armor, another red and blue and the last a dull gray. Those three had to be the tallest of all bots. "It came to our attention, they are, basically, the leaders of the entire race."
I took over, pointing as I said each name. "The one that looked like he got the crap kicked out of him, he's Megatron-leader to the Decepticons. The red and blue bot is Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots-the good guys. Then there's the red one. He is some sort of…important bot."
"It's believed he, perhaps, ran the autobots before Optimus Prime." it was astonishing the information we could dig up in a matter of days.
"Although, I do haveta say, Prime's paint job is kickass." I piped up with a grin and Seymour groaned. "What? Who doesn't want a kick ass semi?" the picture of a transformed Optimus Prime was flashed. Peterbilt 379, blue with red flames.
"Anyways." she stressed and I rolled my eyes.
"Yah anyways." now I pointed to the all red bot. "This dude betrayed Prime." pointed to Optimus. "Killed one of the good guys."
"That bastard!" Seymour scoffed.
"Damn right. Ya supposeta be a good guy and kill'em? WTF, man!" and now, I am gesturing violently.
"Well, he got killed back." Seymour stated in a no nonsense tone. "Serves him right. Not because he was helping the bad guys but because he turned his back on the autobots. They were family and family should be the most important thing. Once you turn your back on them…you're no good."
"I have a question for the psycho sons of bitches…or even the autobots. If you want to rebuild home, why don't you ask for our assistance. Could you imagine the things we would learn from each other?"
"I'd help." Seymour announced.
I nodded enthusiastically from my chair. "Hells to the yah! There are probably hundreds of people that would help."
"Alas, our dream of 'togetherness'," and here we each pushed a hand toward the other so that our fingers weaved together. "Will not prevail. Not right now."
"How true, how sad." I frowned.
Suddenly, there was a 'blurp' on the laptop and my brows shot into my hair. 'Attempted Tracking Singal' flashed on the screen. Aw crap, quicker then last time. Reaching over, I smacked Seymour and gestured to the laptop. She cursed softly and we leaned back. "Well kiddies, it seems like 'the man' is trying yet again to stop the floor of uncensored information."
"This means today's show is over so…." both us went rode straight and address the camera. "We salute you Autobots! Over and out!" I winked with a grin and cut the feed. Another crisis averted.