The Dead Ed Project: Day One

September 1, 3:25 P.M.

[And we’re at the opulent offices of the UWC Headquarters, and it appears that Chad Foster is preparing for some sort of trek. He’s got a large backpack all fitted out with a sleeping bag, tent and all the rations he may need. He’s on the phone …]

Foster: Dammit, I’m going to be away on business! Can’t you postpone the meetings? I know there’s real money at stake, but don’t you see that it’s all a frivolous lawsuit … I mean, Pedro started the brawl by beaning two of my guys in a row! What am I supposed to do? Not let my boys kick their pansy asses in a fight THEY started? Don’t worry, I’ll get you your money, just keep them occupied … I’m going to be out of town for a few days … no you won’t be able to reach me and no I can’t tell you where I’m going … deal with it!

[Foster hangs up in disgust. Melissa, Foster’s latex-loving secretary saunters in, wearing, shockingly, no latex. She’s wearing a camouflage tanktop and camouflage shorts, her alabaster skin an effervescent clarity to the tangled threads of green and brown and black. Her blond hair is once again pulled back into pig-tails by little pink bows. She’s so cute.]

Melissa: I got the satellite uplink working. It’s solar powered so as long as we put the cell on top of one of our backpacks, we’ll have enough power to upload at night.

Foster: That’s good, I want to document my talk with Ed. God … this better work.

Melissa: When should we leave?

Foster: I guess if you’re ready, we better go … is the satellite uplink equipment heavy?

Melissa: Not too bad. Mike the cameraman who’s coming with us can carry it.

Mike the Cameraman (who is naturally filming this conversation): * gulp *

Foster: So I guess it’ll be the three of us going out into the woods to find Dead Ed … did you get the directions to that backwater town he lives in?

Melissa: Yeah, it’s not that long a drive. We can get there this afternoon and get ready to find Ed’s house in the woods by the morning …

Foster: Melissa, what would I ever do without you?

Melissa: Starve?

Foster: Will you marry me?

Melissa: no.

[she winks at the camera … or maybe the cameraman …]

Foster: Well, let’s take this tape and do the uplink to make sure it works and then we’ll be on our way … Dirk Ryan is staying here so he can make sure the stuff we uplink gets on the air, right?

Melissa: It’s all taken cared of. Now go take your potty break and we’ll get on the road … C’mon Mike, let’s get this tape uploaded …

[and as Melissa’s ivory cleavage fills the screen, we hear the click of the stop button and the purr of the eject as we fade to an endoftransmission..]

September 1, 1999, 6:51 P.M.

[And we’re in the motion-sickness inducing backseat of Chad Foster’s Caddilac (American-made!) as Foster drives onward, Melissa paints her toenails and Mike documents it all … Melissa’s kinda cute …]

Mike: Hey guys, we’re on!

Foster: Hi … We’re on our way to … to … where the hell are we going?

Melissa: Burkittsville … how many times do I have to tell you?

Foster: Yeah … Ed has a P.O. Box there, but he lives up in the woods in his own little Unabomber shack. I don’t know how the Widow puts up with it …

Melissa: I’m sure it’s because she loves him … It’s so romantic …

Foster: Please … So how far until our exit?

Melissa: Well let me see … I think that was it … you just passed it!

Foster: WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!

Melissa: You’re the one that was talking this whole time! Turn around!

Foster: What am I supposed to do, just turn around here on the freeway? We’ll have to wait until our next exit!

Melissa: Well if you weren’t such a bad driver, we wouldn’t have missed our exit! Who knows how long it’ll be before we get to the next exit!

Foster: Screw you Melissa, if you hadn’t been distracting me, talking to me, cooing in my ear and painting your toenails with that hallucinogenic nail polish, we would have made the exit!

Mike: Hey … can’t we all get along?

Melissa: Shut the hell up. I can’t believe we have to put up with this man’s incompetence!

Foster: Excuse me, you don’t … I could fire you all right now!

Melissa: Yeah, well I could quit! Screw you!

Mike: Guys … please … this isn’t the way we should be handling this …

Foster: Next Exit 20 miles?! Where the hell in Massachusetts are we?! We don’t …

Melissa: we don’t what?!

Foster nevermind … Mike turn that damn camera off NOW!

Melissa: He doesn’t have to do what you say! We’re quitting, right Mike?

Mike: Um …

Foster: Turn that damn camera off now!

Mike: okay …

[and as Foster and Melissa continue to bicker back and forth, Mike hits the stop button on the camera and we fade once again to an endoftransmission.. ]

September 1, 1999, 7:47 P.M.

[And we’re in the back of Foster’s Caddy again and it’s noisily bumping along a dirt road with the forest to either side, blocking out the setting sun. Melissa and Foster are still arguing, and I don’t think either of them knows the camera’s back on …]

Melissa: Where the fuck are we?! This is not happening to me. This is not happening to me you … you little fuck!

Foster: Well excuse me … We need gas and there’s got to be a gas station around here!

Melissa: On a friggin’ dirt road?! Jesus Christ, Foster, what kind of idiot are you?!

Foster: I’m the idiot that’s going to find Dead Ed and get us back home safely, you BITCH!

Melissa: Oh great, now you’re calling me names … what’s that sound?

Foster: What sound?

Melissa: the sound the car’s making … you’re not telling me …

Foster: Dammit!

Melissa: We’re out of gas, aren’t we?

Foster: yeah.

Melissa: YOU BASTARD!

[She leaps onto Foster as the car coasts … she’s punching him about the shoulders … oh no … there’s a tree! They crash! Thankfully, the car was coasting and not going very fast …]

Melissa: You little shit! Now you’ve wrecked our car in the middle of butt fuck nowhere …

Foster: Excuse, me, but I wouldn’t have wrecked if you hadn’t jumped on top of me!

Melissa: Whatever.

Mike: Guys, let’s deal with this the right way. Let’s go see how much damage has happened to the car.

[and so they get out, and notice that the car is hardly damaged at all. But they did crash into a tree in the center of a dirt road … now that they look around … where is that dirt road?]

Foster: Where the hell are we?

Melissa: Where the hell are we? We’re in buttfuck, Massachusetts with no idea how to get home! Can you call someone on your cell phone to get us out of here?

Foster: Um … I didn’t bring it … I didn’t want any distractions …

Melissa: NO DISTRACTIONS?! I’m going to kill you!

Mike: Hold on … we’ll be okay. We’ve got camping supplies and all that, we can make it. All we need to do is find the freeway and walk along it until someone picks us up or we get back to civilization … we’ll be fine.

Foster: Mike’s right. We need to stick together. We’ve got the satellite uplink, so we can send out messages for help, right?

Melissa: I don’t know … the messages just go to Dirk Ryan back at HQ, and knowing him, he’ll just put it on tape and send it to the television studio! And since we don’t even know where we are, how are we supposed to get someone to find us?!

Mike: Guys, it’s getting dark. I suggest we just find a place to camp, eat dinner and we’ll find a way home tomorrow. We just need to be under control.

Foster: Mike’s right. Let’s do the uplink, set up camp and get some rest. I think I can figure out where to go in this here forest.

Melissa: Hold on … do you hear that?

[they all strain to listen]

Melissa: There’s nothing! We’re in the middle of nowhere! Something tells me that if you lead us anywhere, it’ll be nowhere!

Mike: Melissa, snap out of it. We’ll be okay. I have faith in Mr. Foster.

Foster: Thank you Mike. Now put the camera down, get the uplink going and I’ll set up camp.

[Melissa has sat down next to a tree and has started crying.]

Foster: I just wish Melissa wasn’t such a whiny bitch!

[and Mike puts down the camera, and he hits stop to ready the satellite uplink back to UWC HQ … it’s too bad they can’t receive messages, or help might be on its way. They set up camp as nightfalls, and who knows what creeps out at night …]