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John Samuels · (04-14-2013)

AHHHHHHH!!

MEDIC!!

The scene opens at a frantic pace, the camera bobbing up and down behind two men holding large bags. The EMT’s dart down the hallways, knocking over chairs and shoving people out of the way. When the two men reach the end if the hallway they dash into a room, where a sobbing Fairchild is kneeling over John Samuels, her hands rhythmically pressing against his chest. Samuels is laying completely motionless in the middle of the floor, eyes wide open, with his shirt ripped open. The EMT’s rush to Samuels’ side, knocking Fairchild off balance and causing her to tumble backwards. One EMT resumes CPR, while the other places two fingers over Samuels’ carotid artery.

EMT1: No, no, no, no. C’mon, hang in there. We’re losing him!

EMT2: I can’t find a pulse!

Fairchild (yelling): You have to save him!

The EMTs frantically work, attempting to save the Senator. The camera shows the two men soaking wet with sweat. After a few moments, the EMT performing CPR spins to his bag and pulls out a defibrillator. He slams the machine down next to Samuels. He cranks the dial and reaches for the paddles, but it stopped by the other EMT, who is sullenly shaking his head. The man holding the defibrillator grabs for the paddles once more, and is again stopped by his partner. He bows his head as his partner places his hand on his shoulder, patting him gently.

EMT2: There was just nothing we could do for him. We just didn’t have enough time.

The two men stand up and look to the distraught Fairchild. She motions for the men to help Samuels, but they can only shake their heads. Fairchild struggles to her feet and plunges into the arms of the two men, screaming and sobbing at the top of her lungs. They make their best efforts to calm the inconsolable woman, to no avail. The EMTs usher Fairchild over to a nearby chair and sit her down, briefly calming her. She struggles for air until one of the EMTs hands her a glass of water which she drinks in one gulp, and then continues her emotional outburst. The EMTs kneel down beside her and pat her on her shoulder, quieting her cries.

EMT1: Ma’am, we did everything we could do for him. To be honest I don’t know if we could have saved him if we had gotten here sooner.

Fairchild pounds her fist against the man’s chest before burying her head in his shoulder.

EMT2: There, there. I know this must be hard for you. If there’s anything, anything at all, that we can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.

Fairchild sniffles and lifts her head, wiping tears from her eyes. She looks at the other EMT and nods.

Fairchild: Can you... can you tell me what happened?

EMT2: Well, ma’am, it’s too early to tell. We’d need to get his corpse-

This word causes Fairchild to hold her hand up to her mouth, fighting back another stream of tears.

EMT2: His body, I’m sorry. His body. We’ll need to get his body to the coroner for toxicology reports and a proper identification of his cause of death. It can be an excruciatingly long process, and I’m truly sorry that you’ll have to wait.

Fairchild: JUST TELL ME HOW IT HAPPENED!

The two men look at each other. The more senior looking of the pair nods to his partner, who turns his attention back to Fairchild. He begins to stutter a bit, as Fairchild is fixated on his every word.

EMT2: Well ma’am, it appears that your friend has been... Bored to death.

Samuels: You’re damn right!

The camera quickly shoots over to Samuels who has popped up to a seated position. He begins laughing hysterically. The EMTs and Fairchild all have a similar reaction. Samuels motions for the two EMTs to come over and help him up. The laughter continues as Samuels fastens the buttons on his shirt. Fairchild is laughing so hard that real tears begins to well up under her eyes. The two EMTs slap each are giving eachother a high five and patting each other on their back. As the laughter dies down Samuels sits atop his large, brown desk.

Samuels: That was perfect. Look at you, Ann. You might win an award for that one. Guys, I hope you enjoyed that.

EMT1: Are you kidding me? We’re getting paid by the XWF to stand around for an emergency AND get to be on television! This is the greatest gig I’ve ever had!

EMT2: How’d I do? I feel like I really captured that moment of terror.

Samuels: Oh yeah, yeah. You were terrific. For a second there I was worried that I actually was dead.

Fairchild: I bet that Neonero is REALLY disappointed now!

The four all begin to laugh again. Samuels makes his way around to his desk, chuckling to himself. He has a seat in his large black chair as Fairchild moves over to the liquor shelf and retrieves a glass, filled with ice.

Fairchild: What’ll it be?

Samuels: Hell, I’m feeling good today, why don’t you break out that 1937 Glenfiddich.

Fairchild nods while opening the bottle, and pours a glass of the whiskey.

EMT1: THE 1937 Glenfiddich!? The oldest whiskey bottle in the world!?

Samuels: One and the same.

EMT1: There was only one bottle ever produced and you have it!? That’s like... $15,000 whisky!

Samuels: $20,000, but who’s counting?

EMT1: And it’s getting opened, just like that, on a whim?

Samuels: Well I wouldn’t call it a whim, not every man gets to celebrate his own resurrection.

EMT1: Oh man this is so cool! I can’t wait to try this!

Samuels: Considering there’s only one bottle, which belongs to me, I have a feeling you’re going to be waiting an awfully long time, friend.

EMT1: C’mon, you’re not going to share?

Samuels: Hell no I’m not going to share, and frankly you’re beginning to annoy me. Get out.

EMT2: But we helped with your--

Samuels: I SAID OUT!

The two men share a glance of annoyment and slink backwards toward the door, brushing past Fairchild who is placing the bottle of whiskey, and a glass filled with it in front of Samuels’ smiling face. He snatches up the glass and brings it underneath his nose. He swirls the glass around in circles, licking his lips

.

Samuels: You know, this whiskey cost me $20,000. Do you realize how much that is? About 28% of Americans make that much a year. All those people out there that just leech off the government would never be able to afford this. But luckily for them, I’m here. And I’ll tell you what, I’ll let you know just exactly how good your year’s salary tastes.

With a smile, Samuels raises the glass to his lips and takes a large sip. He closes his eyes and titls his head back as he swishes it back and forth. He swallows the gulp and inhales deeply.

Samuels: It tastes... like garbage. Yuck. That was disgusting.

Samuels pours the drink out into a garbage can next to his desk, along with the entire contents of the bottle. After dropping the empty bottle into the garbage can, his head snaps up towards Ann, with an exaggerated look of guilt on his face.

Samuels: Uh oh Ann! A senator isn’t supposed to do that! What ever will Neonero think!?

Fairchild holds her hand up, and makes a talking motion with it.

Fairchild: Blah, blah, blah. I’m so disappointed. Bleep, bleep, bleep. I used to be somebody. Blah, blah, blah. Me love you long time. Blah. Blah. Blah.

Samuels: He sure does swear a lot, doesn’t he? That can’t be setting a good example to all the children watching the XWF. Hello kids!

Samuels and Fairchild both wave to the kiddies at home.

Samuels: Tune in on Monday, when I wash out that no-good Neonero’s mouth with soap. That pottymouth!

Fairchild: And remember children, say no to drugs!

Samuels: Hey Nero, is that more like it? Being nice to the kids? Since you know so much about being a senator, I’d figure I’d ask you for some pointers. Tell me, what else do I need to? Do I need to sit there and bore my audience like you do? Because I just want to be the best gosh darn public servant I can be, and by-golly, if it takes me sitting around saying the same thing over-and-over-and-over again, well then I’ll do it. And why wouldn’t I? The great and powerful, all-knowing Nero, destroyer of Cyren is a man who commands respect. And how foolish am I to question you? I mean, look at the list of names you beat back before the influx of real talent into the XWF. What a glorious time that must have been.

Samuels pulls a cigar out of his desk and waves it underneath his nose. He places the end in his mouth and bites down on it a few times.

Samuels: Now, if it were anybody but you, Nero, I would laugh at the claim of making others lose their sh-- stuff. Anybody but you Nero. Otherwise, I would have to state the obvious, that the XWF isn’t what it used to be. This pond isn’t so little anymore, and those old, big fish just aren’t quite as big as they used to be. And it’s become obvious that some of them don’t even qualify as little fish any more. They’re just toads, sitting in the mud avoiding predators and hoping for an easy meal to fly in front of their face. But that’s not you, is it Neo? Nooo. You’ve survived the extinction event. Like a cockroach. Still scampering around. That probably explains the foul language, I’d be pretty darn angry if I went from being top dog to barely holding on to relevancy. Here, I’ll pause here so you can misinterpret what I’m saying and drone on and on about it, as you so enjoy doing.

Samuels looks over to Fairchild.

Samuels: That’s a lovely blouse, Ann.

Fairchild: Well thank you, sir.

Samuels: Not a problem.

Samuels looks down at his watch while humming the theme from Jeopardy. He picks at his teeth with a tooth pick from cup on his desk, squinting as he attempts to reach the back of his mouth. He tosses the tooth pick into his trash can and looks down at his watch again.

Samuels: Well, that should be enough time. I do so look forward to seeing your delusional interpretation of what I’m saying. Hopefully this go round you also remember that if you don’t make it entertaining, people won’t pay attention.

Samuels crosses his hands around his throat, and begins to chuckle.

Samuels: Or even worse. Actually, maybe another snoozer wouldn’t be too bad! I have a bottle of The Macallan 1939 that I’ve been ready to open on a special occasion, and what would be more special than a second resurrection? We could call it ‘Death: The sequel.’ Or maybe I should save that for Monday night? Winning the European championship will be quite the special occasion. Hell, maybe I’ll even have you come share a glass or two with me. What could ease the pain of losing your title more than an expensive glass of whiskey? Granted, losing your title after such an unimpressive reign may just warrant drinking the entire thing. That’s a hell of a trade off, eh? A $10,000 bottle of whiskey for that gold on your waist. I’d take that deal if I were you, no sense of leaving Madness completely empty-handed. Oh and of course I’ll invite my good friend Mr. Heyman! I’m sure he wouldn’t want to miss out on celebrating his new champion. What a party, cigars and top shelf whiskey on the new European champ! Neo, you can consider this your formal invitation.

Samuels winks and lights his cigar. The song ‘Celebration’ by Kool and the Gang begins to play as Fairchild wanders over to Samuels’ desk. The two begin to chat as the camera fades to black.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Death of a senator.
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