Goldrock Conclusion
Oct 26, 2019 15:30:54 GMT -5
“The RevolutiDaddy” Wesley and Derrick Vayden like this
Post by Deleted on Oct 26, 2019 15:30:54 GMT -5
Open to a close up of the wide nostrils of one Orret Goldrock, and as the camera pans out, we see him in a nondescript space with sparse lighting. He’s dressed in fine green three-piece suit with a gold chain looping from a train pocket on the left side. He also puffs lovingly on a cigar when someone off screen acknowledges him in an official capacity.
Director: We’re not in the business of forgiveness.
Orret: Nor am I, Mr. Director… but I expected something better from your lackeys. This one, Devitt I presume, how has he been working for you?
Devitt: Fourteen years—
Orret: If I wanted a talking ottoman, agent, I’d have asked for one… personnel these days. You know the old kings of Europe didn’t have goombas like this thumb-breaker. Where exactly did you find him?
Director: Mr. Goldrock, can we please get back on topic?
Orret: Please do… and hey, Devitt? Do you have a vibrate setting?
Cameras pan out further showing what appears to be an abandoned factory. Concrete pillars form a concentric colonnade around a confident Orret Goldrock—his feet placed inhumanely atop his former torturer like a piece of furniture. SSA Devitt looks up to Director, outright begging for a reprieve, but a general’s wave forces him to give Orret a gentle rocking sensation beneath his small, clubby feet.
Orret: Now that is what—
Director: You have your concessions… now if you could meet ours, Mr. Goldrock. Mind that your freedom depends upon it.
Orret: Right, the formula for my Orretium. You know, it’s only by happenstance that I came across its formula. A stroke of genius in the dark—if you catch my drift?
Director: Was that before, or after, you burrowed out of Camp X?
Orret: Ah ah, a cook never shares his secrets. However, if you allow me the space and materials—you’ll get everything you’ve ever wanted and more.
Director: And what will you do with that person, Farquad, whom you kidnapped?
Orret: Let him go… not like he’s a danger to our deal. Just another former client turned pariah. It happens. The everlasting tale of business. So are we ready to talk figures? Because I’m done with all this open night at the Apollo… I’m here to work with the professionals.
Devitt: But I don't get it! How did you overcome the serum?
Orret motions to the Director, humoring the noise beneath his feet before tapping ash off his cigar nub.
Orret: You've seen too many TV shows, agent... no one falls prey to a drug cocktail like your special tincture. There are wannabes... otherwise, leave the spy games to real suits. But to answer a simple question - how about we put it to the floor. Do you think it works?
Devitt: What?
Someone off camera - after a reluctant nod from the Director - injects something into the agent's neck. He squeals before passing out much as Goldrock did weeks ago.
Orret: The true answer is he has no idea what's he's doing. But you see, I've also got a golden heart - you see, so let me have one request, Mr. Director.
Director: If it's not too expensive... we'll listen, Mr. Goldrock.
Orret: When you burn this toll brain, leave him someone nice like South Florida, or maybe Utah. I hear there's no bad weather in the Land of Saints. Wouldn't know, but I read the AAA books for restaurants and such. Pretty pictures - anyways, give the henchman a break. And keep him the hell out of Orlando... are we crystal on that?
Director: Golden.
Orret: Ha! And who ever said G-men don't smile?
Cut feed with everyone but the unconscious agent laughing.