Part 1 of 1
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Tonight, Capital City finds itself in need of a hero.
The Skinner Co. Network
FP266 - All Things Being Equal, Part 1 of 1
[music] Sunday's gloomy, my hours are slumbless. Dear is the shadows I live with by nonetheless. Little white flowers will never awaken you. Not where the brach ultra-sol is taking you. [music] Angels have no fire ever returning you. Or they may angry a fire so they'll join you. [music] Welcome to Flashpulp, episode 266. This evening we present All Things Being Equal, Part 1 of 1. This week's episodes are brought to you by All Things Geek. Come back to you, All Things Geek. This is going to be episode... [beep] I don't know. [laughter] Could see the light of gay. A lot of gay. What would happen? [laughter] I just puked in my mouth. [laughter] Pizza and cranberry juice. To enter all things gaming, for contact us in the room. W-W-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-M, all things gaming. Don't be afraid. Do it, Link. [Music] Flashpulp is an experiment in broadcasting fresh pulp stories in the modern age. Three to ten minutes of fiction brought to you Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings. Tonight, Capital City finds itself in need of a hero. All things being equal, part one of one. Written by J.R.D. Skinner. Art and narration by Opoponix. An audio produced by Jessica May. [Music] The news had drawn Madeleine to the river's edge. In those days, breaking news was a rare event in Capital City. And so, when she'd realized the bridge jumper pinned beneath the camera's gaze was only blocks away, she'd hurried to leap on her ten speed, go ahead. As she'd unplugged her cell phone from the charging cord on the kitchen counter, her mom had asked, "Maddie, where are you going?" And she'd replied, "To the bridge." Madeleine felt some guilt at intentionally not mentioning the gathering crowd and unfolding drama, but the girl had known her mother would be quick to deny her the adventure. Now, she was finding it difficult to continue to hold her tongue. Careful, you don't want to go in with her. Half of them survived the fall, but they at least got a chance to prepare themselves. Stated the nearest officer at whose back she was staring. Even then, they always pick up a few broken bones on impact. The figure at the center of the affair endlessly paced a metal beam at the structure's brink. Though the span was blocked at either end, the suicidal pedestrian sometimes neared to a point just feet from Madeleine. "So close," the girl thought, that she could almost reach out and pull her to safety. It was close enough, certainly, to hear the ragged woman sobbed please. "I've tried everything," she said. "Everything! Why won't anyone help me?" Madeleine had, in fact, come to help, but much to her frustration the police weren't letting her through. It annoyed the girl that her experience as a hero meant so little. A year previous, when she'd been ten, she'd managed to save a man's life. She'd found him in a double-rudded back lane running off Gibraltar Road, crumpled between a huge green compost bin and a white-paneled shed. He'd started at her approach, and she could see his oversized black suit was wet with blood. "Are you okay?" she'd asked. She'd gotten used to watching men fall down when Dad was still living with them, but the blood was something new. At the sight of it, Madeleine had bitten her lip and repeated a question. "Are you okay?" No, not really, was the man's reply, but his voice had sounded younger than she'd expected. Turning his head had obviously been a difficult chore, but his eyes had swept left and right, taking in the full length of the dirt lane scrubby bushes and unpainted fences. Maddie had found herself doing the same. There was no one else at hand. The man had righted himself then, using the shed for leverage and support. His fingers painted a red fan on the plastic siding. "You don't happen to have a cell, do you?" he'd asked. This was the moment she dreamed of as she'd run gal-had through puddles and over-curbs, and it almost seemed too easy that the solution would simply pop from her pocket. Nonetheless, it was no easy thing for the man. The call was short, but the wait was long. She kept him talking. He refused to answer any questions about why he was there, but he was happy enough to discuss the manga in uyasha and unexpected common interest. Still, the pain had been intense, and he'd wept as his friends pulled their black van to a stop. But he'd said it. He'd said that she'd saved his life. He had also extracted a latex mask, a character of a man's face, with huge sideburns and a wicked grin from the interior of his coat. It was far too big for her, but she sometimes liked to put it on and stare at herself in the room's star-stickered mirror. Then he'd given her a phone number. If you ever need help, seriously, he'd text there. I might not answer, but someone will. She'd never used the digits. She'd hadn't had a reason to, until she wrote, "There's a lady on the Leithy Bridge, and no one's doing anything." For fifteen minutes, she'd split her focus between the small message screen and the balling woman. In despair, she sent a follow-up. "You said you would help me." Another half hour passed. The conflicted had taken to sitting and creeping her ragged jeans towards the edge of the steel lip that was her two short seat. With tears of frustration in the corners of her eyes, Malin began shouting at the reluctant officer. "You've got to do something, damn it!" She knew he'd been trying, that he'd been complaining about the lack of a boat on the scene moments before. But her anger at the situation demanded a target. "There are protocols. We're doing everything we can," he replied. "You just stay calm, little lady." "Or are you a lady?" "That was some mighty strong language for someone so young." "Wait till you hear the language all you use if you don't do something." "Listen, we're trying to lock her up as quickly as we can, but…" The hush fell over the spectators, causing the bing from Maddie's pocket to echo, like a cough in a library. The source number was blocked, and the message said simply, "We're coming." Suddenly Maddie was the last thing on the cops' mind. After surveying the river, he turned to his partner. "Fuck me," he said. "It's the achievers." Once they'd been little more than an internet myth, a group of anonymous vindicators responding to cries for help from the lost and forgotten. Recently, however, they'd grown more brazen. A dozen swan boats, each powered by a latex-faced metal head wearing an oversized black suit, appeared from beyond the waterway's curve. A tarp was affixed, with taut nylon rigging, to the birds' sleek white necks, so that a broad expanse of blue stretched between them. At the center of the surface, lay, apparently jokingly, a pair of throw pillows. As the mast invaders pedaled ever to the left, the assembled raft was locked in perpetual rotation, and moved forward only because the river carried it along. "Goddamn, Busby Berkeley film!" said the officer. "Oi! Come on down! The water's fine!" shattered the temporarily nearest achiever. Above, the despondent form stiffened. "It's okay! We've done the math!" coaxed the mask, his tone now more serious. Seconds lingered. There were no more pleas as the jemper stared from her perch. To Maddy, it felt as if the impending suicide was simply waiting for the illusion of help to dissipate. The girl only had goa-had in her phone, but again, it would be enough. Everyone's focus was on the boats below, or so they later claimed, as none stepped forward when asked by the press to identify who had thrown the aging hunk of plastic. It was a good toss, which landed squarely in the whaler's cloud of light brown hair, with notable thud the cell ricocheted from her frozen skull, clattered against the steel rail, then dropped onto the makeshift safety net. The woman was close behind. The seeds moved quickly to secure her in one of the boats before slicing the ropes that connected them. With a wave, the achievers pull-started the small black engines affixed to their waterfowls, then sped out of sight. Finally, grinning, Madeline knocked back gala-had's kickstand, and turned towards home. ♪♪♪ ♪ The woman in the sun day was shadowed, I spent it all night and night, I've decided to end it all. ♪ ♪ Soon every candle was in prayer, set aside I know, and then I weep, let them know that I'm going to go. ♪ ♪♪♪ ♪ Death is no dream for, and death I'm caressing you, with the strength of my soul, I'll be blessing you. ♪ ♪ Soon the sun day... ♪ (keyboard clicking)