Radically Happy

1. Cheapskate

Hat tip to MYTH Inc Link

The Earnest Redeemer: Dude, why you gotta keep harshing on me like that?

Cheapskate: Hey, back off sonny. Don’t lay all that on me!

E. Whaddya mean? Aren’t you the persona that flails me when I waste food, time, or money?

C. No, sir! I’m just pointing things out. I’m the accountant. Not the enforcer.

E. Um, then who…

C. Meet Guido.

2. Guido

I just now realize Cheapskate looks like JR Grimble from Myth Adventures.

Guido, on the other hand, looks suspiciously like Ang, the red hulk of my anxiety . But grey and dressed in a three-piece suit. And talks like a Damon Runyon character.

Guido: [snaps] Hey, you looking at me?

E. [snaps back] No, I’m looking for you! This is my turf, see. You ain’t got no business running around messing up my people.

G [snarling] Oh, yeah?

E. [ramping up] Yeah!

G. [calming down] Wait, really?

E. Uh… yeah?

G. I mean, are you sure? Cause if so, I have to be checking my paperwork.

E. Um, paperwork?

G. Yeah, the Boss, he is very efficient. He only goes where he’s needed. He’s a stickler for accuracy.

E. [sarcastically] You mean accurately terrorizing people who don’t listen?

G. [beaming] Yes, exactly. I’m so glad we were able so readily to come to a mutual-type understanding. It is a honor and a relief to be dealing with a professional-type person such as yourself.

E. Um, thank you?

G. If there has been a mixup, you have my sincerest apologies, and we will of course conduct a full investigation. We pride ourselves on being the most dependablest enforcement organization in this entire dimension.

E. Ah… good for you.

G. [sincerely] Thank you! Let me tell you, I have been part of some seriously messed up groups in the past. The Boss, he runs a tight ship here. Let me check the work order.

He reaches inside his jacket. I tense, fearing a concealed pistol. Heck, he could hide a bazooka in that ginormous outfit! But instead he merely pulls a briefcase out of an oversized pocket.

G. Let’s see… C… D… E… Here it is. Ernest the Sinner. That’s you, isn’t it?

E. Ah. Well, no, actually. We had an, um, change of management lately. I am now Ernest the Redeemer.

Guido gives a deep sigh and shakes his head. Apparently this touches a nerve of deep sadness within him. He frowns, and tries several times to speak, but without success.

E. Are you okay?

G. No. Yes. I mean. I’m sorry. Can I call you Mr. Ernest?

E. Well, technically it is Doctor, but Mr. Ernest works fine.

G. Thank you, Mr. Ernest. You see, this here is what we call a “situation.”

The air quotes he makes with his massive fingers seem awfully foreboding.

E. And… you don’t like “situations”?

If anything, my attempt to empathize only makes him more uncomfortable.

G. Hey, it is not my place to judge! It’s just… well… anyway, you should really hear it from the Boss.

The apologetic note in his tone makes me wonder what kind of infernal overlord can cause a hardened kneecapper to blanch. Still, I’ve braved gods and devils before.

E. Don’t worry about it, Guido. I will be happy to talk to your Boss and sort this out.

G. Geez, thanks. Excuse me while I go fetch him.

E. No worries, take your time. I assume it must be an epic journey for you to reach him?

G. What? Oh, no. He is always on call for, um, “situations” like this. As I told you, he is a very supportive boss.

The beads of sweat on his brow make wonder what kind of “support” Guido is anticipating. I don’t have long to wonder, though, as he pulls out what appears to be an enormous dog whistle the size of a bassoon from his voluminous jacket. He places it on his lips and lets loose a hearty — yet completely silent — blast.

Then nothing happens.

3. Aahz

Guido appears puzzled. I smile, thinking he may have overstepped his authority.

E. [smiling] Is something wrong?

G. I don’t understand. The boss, he is always there when we need him.

E. Aww, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s nothing. Maybe he’s just using the bathroom.

G. No, you don’t understand. This is a special line. He has only lets us work when he’s in the office as backup. If he was busy, he’d at least have sent a mess…

Suddenly there is a loud BAMF! A cloud of pink smoke with a whiff of brimstone erupts right in front of me. Snarling hideously is a stocky, scaly, horrific green demon!

E. Aaargh!

Aahz: [hissing viciously] Guido…

E. Um, maybe this is a bad time…

G. Oh, hey Aahz, what are you doing here?

A. [choking and coughing, then resuming in a more normal but still annoyed voice] How many times do I have to tell your cousin not to use the pink special effect powder? He knows I’m allergic to it!

G. Sorry, Aahz, he wasn’t expecting you to use the transport spell. And Cheapskate has been pushing us to use up the pink stuff whenever we can, since we got a sweetheart deal on it for Valentine’s Day.

The Demon — Aahz? — glares accusingly at the spindly accountant. To my amazement, Cheapskate matches him glare for glare.

C: What of it? You know income is down 3% from last quarter due to that Limbo debacle, and watching expenses is the only way to maintain our profit margin without having to trim headcount!

To my amazement, the Demon apparently accepts this gobbledygook as gospel, and turns away muttering.

E [whispers to Guido] Does your boss always back down so easily?

G. [whispers back] What? Oh, that isn’t our boss. That’s…

A: [interrupting. Loudly]. Aahzymandius! The Boss’s friend and mentor. Who also happens to have much better hearing that you wimpy little humans. So watch your tongues, or I’ll rip them out of your throats!

I cringe, but Guido just laughs.

G. Cut the comedy, Aahz. We got a “situation” here. Where’s the Boss?

Aahz looks… embarrassed? He sidles up to Guido and tries to whisper. His assessment of human hearing isn’t very good, though, as he is easily loud enough for me, Cheapskate, and the entire neighborhood to hear every word.

A. Ah. Look, Guido. This isn’t a good time for the Boss. He’s… having a bad day. That’s why I jumped on your call myself, to see if you can push things back to tomorrow, or even next week.

G. Gee. Aahz, I’d like to, but the SLA on this contract is pretty strict.

A. Well can’t you get the client to renegotiate?

G. But that’s the whole reason I called! We don’t even seem to have the right client!!

A. Whaddya talking about? Let me see that! [pores over the papers, then abruptly stops and stares at me]. Hey, aren’t you Earnest the Sinner?

E. Ahh… no. No. No, I am not.

Aahz walks up to me, sniffing suspiciously. He keeps glancing between me and the papers in his hands, as if comparing them. Then turns and glowers at Guido, who shrugs helplessly.

G. See what I mean, Aahz? It’s the same body, but totally new management. And you know what that means…

A. I know, I know. But still, does it have to be now? Can’t we just fudge it for a few more days? I’ll be honest with you, Guido. After the day he’s been having, one more shock and the Kid — I mean, the Boss — just might lose it.

I gulp nervously, wondering what malicious mayhem might accidentally be unleashed if the magical maestro behind these motley monsters were to, as they say, “lose it.”

Perhaps fortunately, my overactive imagination doesn’t have time to conjure up any particularly grisly worst-case scenarios, as at that very instant…

4. The Boss

BAMF!

A young… kid? Twenty-three at most, possibly still a teenager, in slightly oversized magician’s robes and a rumpled — crown? fedora? Jughead hat? — materializes in front of me?

Boss: Guido! Omigosh, Omigosh I just saw your note. Are you okay? Is anyone hurt?

G. No, boss, nothing like that. Everyone is fine. It’s just…

[Aahz is standing behind the Boss, frantically but silently gesturing for Guido to “zip his lips” and stop explaining. Alas, Guido doesn’t seem to see him.]

G. Well, I’m afraid we seem to have gotten ourselves into a “situation.”

At that word, the Boss jumps as if he’d just received an electric shock. Everyone freezes in anticipation, staring at him. Including me. His face contorts. Is he about to explode, pulverizing our entire dimension with an uncontrolled burst of thaumaturgical terror?

Instead, he crumples to curb, buries his face in his hands, and starts… crying?

I look around, dumbstruck. Is this what everyone was so worked up about?

Apparently.
Because the others all avert their gaze and shuffle uncomfortably, unwilling to face their Boss in his distress.

Sigh. Time to earn my new name.

5. Redeemer

E. Um, excuse me? Mr, um, Boss?

B. [sniffling] You can… you can call me Skeeve.

E. Err… are you okay? I… I’m sorry if I’ve caused you unexpected trouble.

B. No [sniff] not unexpected… [sigh] That’s the thing. I always knew this day would come.

I sit down next to him and rest my hand on his shoulder. He clasps it and manages a ghost of a grin.

B. In a way, I’m glad. You have no idea what it is like. Not just managing an organization of people you care about — though that’s hard enough. The knowledge that… well, the whole empire is built on deception, and taking advantage of people’s worst fears and deepest shames.

“The whole empire is built on deception, and taking advantage of people’s worst fears and deepest shames.”

Skeeve, the Kid/Boss

I nod, suddenly understanding.

E. You didn’t want to be a criminal. But it was the only game in town. And you had to get good at it in order to protect those you love.

B. Yeah… maybe too good. [bitterly]

E. Actually… I am proud of you.

B. Wait, what? I thought your whole purpose was to destroy us, because you realized we were a bunch of evil phonies!

E. Not quite… at least, not anymore. I only hated you because I feared you. Maybe even envied you. But now I see that the you were not some soulless villain manipulating me for your pleasure. Rather, you were trapped by the exact same scarcity you imposed on me.

“You were not some soulless villain manipulating me for your pleasure. Rather, you were trapped by the exact same scarcity you imposed on me.”

The Earnest Redeemer

B. Well… I guess I’m happy for you. At least you’ll finally be rid of us. [shudders]

E. …

B. [staring at Earnest] what?

E. What are you all so afraid of?

B. I don’t think you want to know.

E. Probably. But I’m afraid I need to. I’m not just the victim here. Aahz called me the client, didn’t he?

B. Not exactly. It’s… kind of a long story.

I grin.

E. Long stories are my specialty!

He grins.

B. Mine too, I guess. I’ll try to keep it short. We were… collateral damage in an inter-dimensional war. We were smart enough to join up with the winning side — the good guys, at least from our perspective. But in the process, our homeland was destroyed. My friends and I… we survived by banding together. Looking out for each other. Being smarter — and stronger– than the other bands of refugees that tried to horn in our turf.

He looks up at me with pain in his eyes.

I nod sympathetically.

E. I understand. We have all had to do things we are not proud of, to survive and protect those we love.

He nods appreciatively and continues.

B. When this franchise opened up, we jumped at the chance to go legit. To be fair, we knew it was a bit of a protection racket. But as long as we had a paper trail giving us legal authority, we could convince ourselves we were on the side of the angels. Everything would be fine. As long as…

E. You never found yourself on the wrong side of one of the Laws you were supposed to enforce.

B. [sigh]. Yeah. [standing up] That’s the problem with being underground enforcers. He who lives by the letter of the law, dies by the letter of the law. If I’m lucky, they’ll only take me. I tried my best to hide the team from a “situation” where they’d have to find out the ugly truth, even if that only fanned their fears of what it might be. Hopefully that will be enough for them to escape from sharing in my judgement.

“He who lives by the letter of the law, dies by the letter of the law.”

The Boss

A. Oh, yeah? And what if we don’t WANT to escape?

Apparently I am not the only one who forgot about Aahz’s hearing. The Boss nearly jumps out of his skin he sees his coworkers arranged in a grim circle around him.

B. Look, this is all my fault. I know you’re angry because I lied to you, told you we were going legit. Just let me face the punishment, and you can go on with your lives.

C. Nothing doing. According to my calculations, your “lies” were the only thing that kept us together all these years. You gave us meaning, purpose, belonging, family. If we shared in the blessings, it is only fitting we share in the punishment.

“You gave us meaning, purpose, belonging, family. If we shared in the blessings, it is only fitting we share in the punishment.”

Cheapskate

B. You don’t understand! I failed you. I’m sure there was a better way. If I had been smarter, or quicker, or more skillful…

E. No.

I speak softly, barely above a whisper. But that one syllable lands like a silent grenade, ending all conversation. All eyes turn to me expectantly.

E. [grimly] Do you know why my name was a changed? Because the universe is a rigged game. I too thought it was rigged against me, that nothing I ever did was good enough. That I was doomed to be a sinner.

Suddenly, I break out into joyous laughter.

E. I was only half-right. The universe is rigged — in favor of redemption! None of us will ever be good enough. The harder we try, the longer we delay the inevitable. The struggle is glorious — I really am proud of you — but the whole point is not to win, but to struggle and lose!

“None of us will ever be good enough… the whole point is not to win, but to struggle and lose!”

The Earnest Redeemer

A. Huh?

E. Go ahead, Skeeve. Blow your whistle.

6. The Fatal Blow

All eyes turn towards the Boss. He pales visibly, but bravely pulls what looks like a miniature silver trumpet from under his tunic.

Aahz whistles.

A. Is that… the Last Trumpet?

B. [nodding] It was given me as part of the contract that granted us our franchise.
I was told to keep it with me at all times, and it would guarantee our ability to honor our bargains.
But if I ever encountered a “situation” [glancing at Guido] where it was impossible to either keep or break a contract, I was required to blow this whistle.

E. [gently] And then what would happen?

Skeeve shakes his head.

B. I don’t know. The man implied it would be the end of everything I’ve ever known — but failing to blow it would be even worse.

Someone lets out a sharp hiss. I expect everyone to back away.

But then, a miracle occurs.

Guido lays the briefcase down at the Boss’s feet, and offers me his hand.

Cheapstake lays down his ledger, and takes my other hand.

Aahz completes the circle around the Boss by taking their hands.

A. Go ahead, Kid. Blow the whistle. We had a great run. If it has to end, then let us end it together.

Skeeve, confused, looks a question at me with his eyes.

I grin.

E. I am… or was… the client. The benefit and penalty were mine all along, even if I’m no longer sure which was which. Regardless, I know that trumpet.
And I say it is time to blow.

Suddenly filled with a steely resolve, Skeeve places the tiny trumpet to his lips and lets loose an enormous blast.

Which we hear.
But not with our ears.

Rather, it is a tiny tinkle at the very edges of perception.
Like angels laughing.
Or stars exploding with joy a million light years away.

Skeeve…. swells.
Like Violet from Willy Wonka.
As if the effort to blow the trumpet rebounded inside of him.
He turns into a globe.
We four become plastered into two-dimensional figures on his surface.

With cartoon logic, he becomes lighter than air as he inflates.
His world-form carries us up and up, as he (and we) become thinner and thinner.

Until finally….
We explode!

The end?

To be continued