(C) Copyright SNOWbear Productions. T h a n k Y o u F o r V i s i t i n g

The Patsy

 "Thank you very much for the fresh linens, Rosita." The man with the red-blotched birth mark on his forehead began to enter the motel’s dank room again.
   The maid politely answered back, “Ju are very welcomed Senor, Johnny. I will come back later to pick up jur things, okay?”  He loved her thick accent, and thought she was very friendly.  The door shut with a nod. The maid reminded him of the people who use to be his caregivers at the Institution before he was given the Cure. He did not like or dislike the Institution it was his home and all he ever knew. But since he was cured of his Mental Retardation his intellectual clarity was like wearing glasses for the first time. Everything was exciting and he wanted to explore his new surroundings. But he was told his by new employer to stay put and out of sight until he called.  Already three days had gone by without a word. He did not like being a messenger but was not skilled in anything else and so was grateful for what he had.
   Johnny Wilkerson tossed the sheets on the bed to be made later in favor of finishing his half eaten sandwich.  ‘Baloney, again,’ he mused to himself. Sitting on the bed he leaned against the wall’s headboard, and called out to the inset view screen, “Resume Program – volume up.”
  The frozen imagine of an electric car’s sleek body hugging the road about a tight curve suddenly came roaringly back to life only to have the commercial fade to black.  An animated GBN Logo illuminated the darken room of the motel.  A beautiful young Asian woman sat professionally dressed behind a glass tabletop as graphics began to illustrate her recap. 
   “Welcome back, I am Rhodora Inianna and this – is The Global Broadband Network. We are continuing to follow up on the unfolding story of the Dallas tragedy.  To re-cap The Mardon Hotel explosion has claimed the lives of 721 people, with 56 critically injured and 3 continue to be missing.
   “Local, State and Federal officials in America are pulling out all their resources as The UN Authority is refraining from lending assistance.  A UN Technician:  OK22 41 was found nearby, but because he suffered no serious injuries the UN will not be involved as it was in the San Angelo Incident where Technician VC3418 was fatally wounded.  Thus far the two are being called unrelated by top UN sources.
   “American leaders have always been reluctant to submit to the Global Authority, since its ratification back in 2017.  One leading FBI official stated -”

  A large black box with a rotating green arrow took over the subdued and silently frozen newscast. The chirping ring toned again. Johnny called out, “PHONE – ‘Hello’?”
   The black box was instantly replaced with the image of a bald, cigar chewing man in a pinstriped suit. He was seated in a luxurious room aboard a Blimp as noted by the cloud view of the windowed wall.  Standing behind the seated man was a bulked figure; an eternal frown etched on his faced looked even more daunting than his boss.  Beaming a clinched cigar-smile the bald man said, “Well, hello to you Johnny. I hope the accommodations aren’t too terribly bad.”
   “Well, si sir,” Johnny stammered a poor beginning. Frantically brushing away bread crumbs from off his chest and trying to sit up straight on the sunken bed, “I was wondering how you were, I mean when you were going to call – sir. It’s just that I – well – was wanting out of my contract.  I mean, well, seeing as though I – suppose I already fulfilled my end of the bargain that is. I mean – uhm, Steven you never mentioned what the package was that I delivered to the Mardon Hotel.”
   “Oh Johnny not to worry, you are out of the contract and as a matter of fact there was no package at all to be concerned with.  You did a great thing today and served your sole purpose in life, Johnny.  You know, not too many people can actually say that. Bruce should be meeting you with payment soon.  I just wanted to get back with you. Nice seeing that expression.”

   The screen’s imagining, and volume retuned to the Filipino Newscaster where the pause was lifted.  “BRUCE! That’s never a good sign.” Johnny sprang from the unmade bed.  Leaving whatever sparse belongings he had, grabbed his coat and headed for the door. 

  A rapping knock stopped him in his tracks as Rosita called out, “Senor, Johnny.”  Sighing a relief, the thin man opened the door, “I have to go out for awhi-”  His words were cut short.  The sight of a huge man wearing a derby and pinstripe suit met him like a brick wall.  Rosita was pressed up against to him, bound by a monstrous arm.  Before Johnny could offer up anything other than an astonished, “Bruce!” a thudding headache snuffed everything to black.  After Johnny’s form slumped back into the seedy motel room the maid’s screams were silenced by a gunshot to the head as she fell atop the mess before her.

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