Subj: The Working Man part 3 of ?
Date: 12/19/99 4:58:21 PM Central Standard Time
From: Delilah Robbins
The Working Man Part 3 of ?
The writing team of General Dementia took their afternoon break. From where Diabolos sat, it appeared that Ross Miller did all the work and was content to do so. He made it extremely obvious that he didn't want Big D around.
It would have been very easy for the Devil to wield his power, to manipulate things as he saw fit but, like so many of his supernatural counterparts, there was a certain observance to sport that he stubbornly maintained...until he found that what he was doing wasn't working…then he used his powers.
So, in typical, mortal, back stabber form, he decided to ratfink on Ross.
Barging past Trevor's alarmed secretary he pushed his way through the boss' office without hesitation and without knocking. There he found Trevor Kingston busily pitching shots into his office basketball hoop. Stunned at the sudden interruption, the color drained from his face.
"Diabolos!"
"Hi ya…boss!" He spouted not really meaning it. The Big D considered himself, boss over all things.
Trevor's face colored for a moment and then taking a deep breath, he expertly controlled his demeanor. "In the future Diabolos, I'd appreciate it if you knocked before entering. I could have been in the middle of something really important."
"So I see!" The Devil smirked.
Trevor stammered. "Nnnnot now of cccourse but you know what I mean. Caught! Nuts! He thought to himself.
"Whatever you say…boss!" He blasted, staring with amused belligerence.
Trevor found his second wind. Performing his trademark power move (Clapping his hands together once) he addressed his new associate. "So, what can I do for you?"
Diabolos grinned, slightly abashed. "I don't quite know how to put this."
Trevor shrugged. "The floor is yours." He uttered ingratiatingly.
"Your head writer doesn't like any of my ideas. He shuns every one of them."
He was instantly the face of concern. "Diabolos, I'm so sorry…given your vast writing experience…" He stopped short confused, then his brow furrowed. "Come to think of it you've never told me what shows you've written."
Just as The Big D was about to launch into several lies, the intercom buzzer blipped.
Bewildered and pensive, he continued to study his new associate as he tapped the intercom button. "Yes."
His secretary's nasally voice answered. "Miss Kulhawic would like to see you."
Diabolos couldn't help but notice the immediate change that came over Trevor. He seemed animated, excited. Did his boss have a thing for the human vacuum cleaner? Nah! He decided.
Flustered, he reached for the intercom fumbling with the button. "Uh, tell her I'll be with her in a moment."
For the rest of the little meeting, Trevor was decidedly distracted and searched for a way to shorten the conversation. "What…what did you say?"
He continued impatiently. "I said your head writer gives zero credence to my ideas!"
Trevor suddenly became very eager to disentangle himself from the encounter. "Listen to Ross, Diabolos. He knows what he's talking about." He stood up and faced The Big D eye to eye. "He's my number one guy, the head writer! So learn as much as you can from him!" He abruptly motioned Diabolos to the door.
He froze, his jaw clenched in a tight grimace. I'm being dismissed! The Devil thought incredulously. Fuming, the steam started to escape from his collar. Then he stopped himself from causing utter chaos. Cool it! Steady on old boy! He instructed himself. Remember why you're here. To get to your number one guy…Nicky. You can deal with Twinkle Toes later. The grimace disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and replacing it, a devilish smile that seemed to stretch from ear to ear. He poked Trevor in the chest with a gun like index finger. "Later…boss."
As he exited the office he was met by Donut lips. She smiled an ample tantalizing smile as she passed the Big D. He shook his head wondering where he'd seen her damned eyes before. Suddenly it occurred to him, The Starchild's, from Kubrick's, 2001 A Space Odyssey! As she passed Diabolos she pressed her lumpy body up against his and to his ultimate revulsion, goosed him!
Once recovered, he made his way back to the workroom. There he found an engrossed Ross Miller, feverishly writing, sparks flying from his typewriter. Even Diabolos was impressed. He seemed tireless and unstoppable in his pursuit for quality. The Big D scratched his chin reflectively. It was going to be all the sweeter to watch him screw up.
"Ross!"
Ross shook his head crazed, waving a dismissive hand. He was on a roll. His full attention needed to be on the page. "Later Man!"
"It's important!"
He was typing with one hand and flapping the other one like a butterfly. "Shit! Not now!"
The Devil looked around the room anxiously. What could he do to stop the creative flow? There it was! Beautiful, you are a genius Diabolos! He gushed to himself. In a flash, he pretended to trip over the cord to the electric typewriter, disconnecting it and Ross' concentration with it.
A crazed look came over Ross' eyes and slowly the blood rushed to his head. He threw his head back screaming. "Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!! Look what you did man!" Jumping to his feet and as red as a brimstone, he was fit to be tied. He stamped up and down repeatedly shouting. "Son of a bitch! I will never get the exact words down ever again!"
The big D feigned embarrassment. "Oh, look at that! What a klutz I am."
Ross was on a jag that he couldn't stop. On and on he ranted using every single swear in the book. "I work my ass off around here and for what?"
Actors, hairdressers, workers in every aspect of production were starting to gather around, trying to find out what was wrong.
The big D smiled at them apologetically. "He dropped a lit cigarette down the front of his pants, but he's okay now."
Pacified, they went on with their respective business.
When Ross was finally exhausted and totally spent, the Devil addressed him.
"Are you through with your giggy?"
"Aw man you suck! Do me a favor and stay the Hell away from me!" He pushed passed the Big D.
"Ross", the Devil stated quietly, commandingly. "I'm trying to apologize, now grow up and accept it like a man!"
Something in his voice made him stop and take notice. Though he didn't know what it was. Slowly he turned to face the newest addition. Reluctantly, as if driven by a new master, he extended his hand to the Big D. "No hard feelings." The words nearly choked him on the way out because they weren't his.
Diabolos clapped him on the back. "Now, since I'm so new here, you're going to do everything you can to make me feel welcome."
"Yes." Ross whispered as if under a spell.
"Starting with a trip out after work, to buy me a drink. That's the least you can do as head writer."
The spell started to lift a little. "I have a date with my girl after work."
"Bring her along." The Devil spouted invitingly, his horns starting to protrude through his shiny mane. Shrewdly he controlled them.
Better not, Ross warned himself. If he knew Gina, he'd be looking for a new girl after she met the guy. "It's not till later in the evening. Sure, you're right. I owe you a drink."
Diabolos slapped Ross with one of his red gloves in a mock, playful gesture. "Good, that's more like it. We should get back to work now."
Ross was tapped for ideas for the rest of the afternoon.
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He took Diabolos to Freestones, the bar that the writers frequented the most. They took a remote table at the back of the room.
The head writer looked at the Big D questioningly. "You've never told me about any of your prior writing experience."
At that, the Devil smiled his broadest, his response peppered with laughter. "That's right I haven't!"
The waiter, looking for a drink order interrupted them.
"You go first Diabolos."
"Oh, I'll have a fireball."
"Make mine a suffering bastard."
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Three hours and four suffering bastards later, Ross' tongue started to loosen up to the Devil's complete satisfaction. Slurring his words, he started giving away shop secrets.
"Oh yeah…Trevor's been boinking Margie for months now!"
"Get out!"
"That's the only reason she's on the payroll." He elbowed Diabolos confidentially.
The Devil was intrigued, throwing his head back laughing. "I don't get it! Trevor's wife is a complete dish, and Margie, well she's no box of chocolates. Of course she's got that mouth…"
Ross sprayed his drink in convulsive laughter. "One man's trash is another's treasure!" When he finished his laughing jag, He lifted his wrist to look at his watch. "Oh, I have to get going, Gina's waiting for me and I wanted to do some writing before our date. I have this incredible idea and I've got to get it down on paper. We've been slipping ever so slightly in the ratings but this will bring us right back on top. I just know it!"
Diabolos raised his arm up preventing Ross from leaving. "Try it out on me first!"
Ross shook his head slowly. "Oh no, I never do that."
The big D raised his eyebrows astounded. "What? You don't trust me? We've been sitting here together drinking, having a good time and you've got no faith in me?"
Ross clearly embarrassed tried to fudge his way out of it. Diabolos was right. He didn't trust anyone with his ideas. "It's not that, it's just I have to see it on paper first…to see if it works."
"You're holding out on me Ross." He turned away from him clearly dejected. "Okay, fair enough!"
Ross bit his upper lip. He did want to fully mend fences with the Diabolos and he was dying to know what someone thought of his newest gem. Slowly he parked himself back in the chair. "You're on! Here's my idea, time travel!"
Diabolos tried not to look too impressed. In his "heart" he knew it was a brilliant idea. Smiling a half smile, he shrugged. "Time travel?"
Ross excitedly went on enthusiastically as there was no turning back. "The characters enter this secret room, see?…"
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The next morning Ross, though clearly hung over, crossed to Trevor's office. Just as he was about to enter, his secretary stopped him. "Sorry Mr. Miller you can't go in there."
The head writer looked at his watch. It was barely eight o'clock in the morning.
"Who's with him?"
"Um, Mr…Diabolos."
Finally after an hour, a triumphant Trevor followed by a sneering Diabolos materialized from the sanctuary.
Trevor gushed all over The Big D. "That's the greatest idea I've heard in a dog's age. Simply brilliant! I knew I hired the right guy."
He turned to the rest of the writing team. "Ross, Margie, gather around. I have some great news."
Margie pretended to be paying attention, she was halfheartedly trying to find the cigarette she'd just lit up. Unbeknownst to her, it had fallen into one of her kicked off shoes. Wriggling her toes, she prepared to slip it back on to her waiting foot.
The head writer looked up warily, feeling a tirade coming on.
Beaming his infamous toothy grin, he dropped the bomb. "We're going to travel through time!"
To be continued…