What would Yoda do?

INT. SIMON'S BASEMENT. 

THE GLOW OF THE MONITOR IS THE ONLY SOURCE OF LIGHT.  SIMON'S FACE IS HAGGARD; EYES BLOOD-SHOT; LIDS DROOPING FROM FATIGUE.  HIS T-SHIRT IS STAINED WITH TWO DAY-OLD BABY PUKE AND LEFTOVER... SPAGHETTI SAUCE?  HIS PALSIED HANDS HOVER OVER THE KEYBOARD AND THE MOUSE IS SMEARED WITH GRIMY SWEAT STAINS.  THE SCROLL WHEEL STICKS.  SIMON NEARLY SWOONS IN HIS CHAIR AND, RECOVERING, IS NOT SURE IF HE'S DREAMING OR AWAKE.  HE BEGINS TO TYPE.

SIGH: (sighs) Now all I have to do is find this Yoda...if he even exists.  Still...there's something familiar about this place. I feel like...I don't know...

STRANGE VOICE: Feel like what?

SIGH: (looking at the creature) Like I'm being watched!

CREATURE: Away put your keyboard! I mean you no harm.

After some hesitation, Simon puts away his keyboard, although he really doesn't understand why. The Boxer dog lounging at his feet looks up at Simon, who appears to be talking to himself.

CREATURE: I am wondering, why are you here?

SIGH: I'm looking for something.

CREATURE: Looking? Found something, you have, I would say, hmmm?

The little creature laughs.

SIGH: (Trying to keep from smiling) Right.

CREATURE: Help you I can. Yes, mmmm.

SIGH: I don't think so. I'm looking for a great blog post.

CREATURE: Ahhh! A great blog post. (laughs and shakes his head)  Blogs not make one great.

With the aid of a walking stick, the tiny stranger moves over to the filing cabinet. He begins to rummage around.  The Boxer ambles around to the side of the cabinet, sniffing at hands as they paw through a morass of legal file folders.

The tiny visitor picks up a wad of old MasterCard statements, looks, and scoffs.

SIGH: Put that down. Hey! That's my credit card stuff.

The creature makes a face.

CREATURE: How you get this house, with debt of this kind?

He flips the file in Simon's direction and reaches over to the book shelf.

SIGH: Listen, friend, we didn't mean to land in this much debt, and if I could get a decent raise, I'd pay it off, but I can't, so why don't you just...

CREATURE: (teasing) Aww, cannot get your debt paid?

The creature spots something of interest on the book shelf.  Simon loses patience and bats the book away. The creature retains his prize -- a Guy Kay paperback -- and examines it with delight.

SIGH: Hey, you could have broken the spine! Don't do that. Ohhh...you're making a mess. Hey, give me that!

CREATURE: (retreating with the book) Mine! Or I will help you not.

Clutching its treasure, the creature backs away from Simon, drawing closer to the Boxer. As Simon and the creature argue, the dog extends her jaw to grasp the book.

SIGH: I don't want your help. I want my book back. I'll need it to get inspired to write my way out of this slimy mudhole of writer's block.

CREATURE: Slimy?  Mudhole?  My home this is!

The Boxer grabs hold of the book and two figures are immediately engaged in a tug-of-war over it.  The Boxer tugs and growls menacingly.  Her jowls wobble in anger.

CREATURE: Ah, ah, ah!

SIGH: Oh, Farley, let him have it.

CREATURE: Mine! Mine!

SIGH: Farley!

CREATURE: Mine!

The creature lets go with one hand and pokes the Boxer lightly with one finger. Farley reacts with a startled yelp, and lets go.

CREATURE: Mine!

SIGH: (fed up) Now will you move along, little fella? I've got a lot of writing to do.

CREATURE: No!  No, no! Stay and help you, I will. (laughs)  Find your inspiration, hmm?

SIGH: I'm not looking for inspiration -- I'm looking for a Web Master.

CREATURE: Oohhh. Web Master. Yoda. You seek Yoda.

SIGH: You know him?

CREATURE: Mmm. Take you to him, I will. (laughs) Yes, yes. But now, we must code. Come. Good code.  Java!!  Come.

With that, the creature scurries out of the basement, laughing merrily. Simon stares after him. All he sees is the reflection of dim light off the cover of the book retreating up the stairs.  Simon makes his decision and starts after the creature.

CREATURE: (in the distance) Come, come.

The Boxer, very upset, whines and snarls in protest.

SIGH: Stay here and watch after the computer, Farley.

Farley whines even more frantically. But as Simon disappears from view, the worried dog grows quieter, and utters a soft, mournful sigh.

*****

(To be finished tomorrow.)

Comments

[Tal]

Simon, that was freaking awesome!

[Moksha Gren]

First of all, Happy (American) Thanksgiving, Simon. Sorry to hear that it's coming so difficultly. Take heart in the fact that these last two posts, while clearly results of writers block, are still very enjoyable posts. Your fans are happy...your status as an excellent blogger is safe.

Oh, and don't trust that little green troll. I saw this happen once and the guy ended up loosing his hand!

[Paul]

the creature backs away from Luke

oops.

How much do editors make these days, anyway?

I must say, I'm glad you've begun having imaginary conversations with an entitiy that is at least somewhat more believable than the one you have (imaginingly) conversed with in the past.

[Simon]

Tal, thanks. I can't claim most of the creative juice but will freely admit to mad skilz in the cut-n-paste department.

Moksha, happy turkey day to you too. Just over a week to go now and I'm looking forward to a small silence after that.

Paul, they don't make nearly enough. You, for example, are hereby entitled to a hearty back-slap for services rendered. And really, aren't all conversations, from one perspective, completely in one's own head? Here's to imagination.