Despite the television volume being set to a loud setting, the radio of Gora’s could still be heard as the sound echoed throughout the lab. Gora listened closely as she began alternate sketches of the apparatus for Owlbert.
“I feel like those three – circus freaks as I called them previously – have something to do with both of these doctors’ murders,” said Elliot. “There’s no evidence at Dr. Spotila’s facility, aside from the short clip from the camera at the security nook, but you said it was just released there was an ‘apparent struggle’ at this Dr. Borehole’s crime scene? Lots of footprints?”
“Yes!” exclaimed Jimbo. “Per the local news in that part of California, WWNC, there were multiple footprints of varying sizes all around the crater-like scene.” Jimbo was reading a news article on his laptop and paraphrasing. “There still have to be molds made of the footprints, but one investigator believes, ‘at least one footprint is human, and the other two could be from humans as well but from humans that are physically abnormal.’ Wow. The investigator found a handful of blood covered broken talons from a large bird, feathers and large swaths of some type of fur. Yeah, it’s gotta be those circus freaks! I’m not sure where these talons came from, but it’s definitely that trio of misfits! I just hope they don’t nab that slender lady! I want her!”
“OHH SEXY LADY!” played over the radio from a high-pitched voiced man.
“Chill your boner, Jimbo,” relayed Elliot. Jimbo laughed. “I think the biggest mystery is how you got me to friggin’ talk about this junk again. I thought it was stupid and done with, but noooo you had to reel me back in. Hook. Line. And sinker.”
“That’s right!” laughed Jimbo again. “I told you this mystery and murder stuff is far more interesting than some hick state’s governor election! I must say, however, that the rest of those scientists that are a part of ASH should be on their toes. It’s a dangerous world for scientists right now.”
Chapter 35
The Media…the Media Never Changes
Chairman Obelis, Jeffrey and McCarthy were all in their war-room, again, after the debate in El Dorado. This time they weren’t answering phone calls and emails complaining about Chairman Obelis’ harsh words about the Arkansas Razorbacks’ football team; no, this time they were answering phone calls and emails singing heaps of praise at Chairman Obelis for what he said at El Dorado. Chairman Obelis dominated from the first question and never pulled his foot off the gas until it was over. Southwyck had broken down and was eventually successfully removed from the stage during a ghastly answer from Steenburgen about healthcare.
Chairman Obelis had toed the line that McCarthy had wanted him to stay on, yet added enough of his personal spin during the debate to make him personally happy. He knew that most of Arkansas would be under his control once the Carda Implants make it around the state, but still felt more satisfied by convincing those still unaffected by the Carda Implant to come to his side.
“I just wanted to say, um, that Obelis guy,” said one caller, “he’s, uh, a genuine guy and didn’t BS any of us in that ballroom! I still don’t like taxes, but I, uh, um, understand them much better now. At least, I think, what they go to will be much better than anything in the past.”
Another caller praised Chairman Obelis’, “No nonsense approach to religion.” The caller continued, “I completely agree that everyone should be allowed to pray to whatever they want to at their own discretion, but forcing religious law upon others will only cause more problems in small, rural communities for those that don’t want to abide by sanctimonious rules.”
Every call or email was relatively peachy and warming, but there were still attempts at trying to dismantle Chairman Obelis’ great night in El Dorado.
“FUCK YOU. TAXES R EVIL! DON’T YOU DARE TRY TO TAX MY CHURCH OR YOU WILL FACE THE WRATH OF GOD HIMSELF,” read one email from a [email protected], while another email read, “Freedom is about me being able to use my guns and money wherever I want to, not me having to pay some stupid taxes so you can have bridges and other nonsense! Hire a private firm! NO REGULATIONS! SMALL GOVERNMENT!” That email was from a [email protected]. There were several more emails, but the messages were essentially the same and from similar email addresses. It wasn’t too worrisome to any of the three.
“Just trolls and extremists,” assured Jeffrey whenever one of those emails would come through the server. “I wouldn’t be surprised if those emails were from out of state dissenters, rather than regular Arkansas folk.”
-----
Jeffrey was just finishing up a phone call. “We would be pleased to have your support, Mr. Cartwright! If you wish to donate to our campaign, I would suggest you head to our website and buy signs, shirts, bumper stickers and more! Yes sir, it’s all on the website. Thank you so much, good bye!” He hung up the phone gingerly then stretched his back. He released out a huge yawn.
“Can’t rest now, Jeff!” said McCarthy. McCarthy sat right next to Jeffrey at a different phone and computer monitor. “We have more work to do!” His voice gained in volume and a bothersome tone. “Gotta keep at it! We want to be in the governor’s house! Or whatever it’s called in this shit-pie state.” He pulled out his handkerchief and blew nose goo into the disgusting piece of cloth he carried around with him.
Jeffrey’s nose wrinkled at the handkerchief. “Oh shut it, Joe,” replied Jeffrey. “And it’s JEFFREY. Not Jeff. People named Jeff are slovenly creatures.”
“Relax, kid, relax. I’m just trying to keep you on your toes.” McCarthy laughed. He moved his handkerchief into his back pocket. “This shit isn’t over yet. Anything can happen to disrupt this run at becoming governor. Hey, boss, what’s the word on those implants things? Has that doctor and your security detail finished their next wave? Or did they succumb to some dumb shit?”
Silence.
Jeffrey turned and looked at where Chairman Obelis was sitting. McCarthy didn’t turn around. He focused on his computer monitor where he continued to answer emails slowly by typing one finger at a time.
McCarthy asked again, “Boss? Chairman Obelis? Where is that little guy, Silva, and where is that pale oaf, Thane? Are the implants getting around Arkansas correctly? Chairman? Hello?” More silence. He finally turned his chair around and stared at Chairman Obelis.
Chairman Obelis was sitting in a sturdy wooden chair watching coverage of the debate. He sat uneasily watching the news from every channel imaginable. He was happy how the debate had turned out and was overjoyed by the staggering amount of support from Arkansans over the phone and through email. What made him uneasy was the incredible amount of coverage focusing on how his competition, Ryan Southwyck, exited the debate.
“This is what they focus on?” said Chairman Obelis weakly. “This is really what they focus on?” He grabbed his forehead and closed his eyes. “I don’t want to be patted on the back, but can’t they for once just focus on what’s going on in these debates? Focus on the candidates’ stances, not what the candidates physically do during the debates?”
Chairman Obelis put his hands near his ears and opened them widely as he faced the giant television right in front of him. The television volume rose for as long as his hands stayed open. It was the only television that was not muted.
Don McSuede, the moderator and announcer of the El Dorado debate, was on a roundtable talk show. “I just couldn’t believe a candidate like Ryan Southwyck was selected to run a state. He just gave up after one question!” McSuede laughed. “It was an abysmal showing for a predominantly republican base in that community college ballroom. Can we watch that video of him pushing away his advisors and friends?”
The roundtable show faded to the video of Southwyck. Everyone on the show chortled and guffawed. McSuede interjected as the video played, “Strangely, Southwyck didn’t drop that much in the polls and still holds more of the electorate than Huxley Obelis. People must think this hilariously embarrassing video was endearing, or they’re not well versed in politics!” More laughs, chuckles,
chortles and guffaws were had at the expense of Southwyck and Arkansans.
The camera panned to the host of the roundtable show, after the video played six or seven more times, stated, “We’ll be right back after a commercial break. Be sure to stay tuned, as we will be talking with Ryan Southwyck on how his mental breakdown can appeal to his voting base! We hope to see him have a breakdown on air! Erm, I mean I hope we don’t see him have a breakdown on air!” The screen faded to black then commercials started to play. The first commercial was an advertisement for penis enhancement pills. Or possibly bath tubs. It was difficult to determine.
Jeffrey stood up from his chair and walked over to the disappointed Chairman Obelis. His open hands went to his ears and then he quickly closed them. The television became muted. McCarthy shook his head at Jeffrey using this method, as the remote control was just a few feet away and the televisions were the same distance as well.
“Lazy prick,” muttered McCarthy.
Jeffrey placed a soft hand on Chairman Obelis’ shoulder. "Slowly but surely things will change, sir. You knew how the media outlets react to these sorts of things – it’s about views and ratings to them, not what’s legitimately news. It’s going to be a snail’s pace to change that, but we – you, me and even McCarthy,” McCarthy looked at Jeffrey when his name was mentioned and then began to pick his nose, “are slowly going to be changing everything for the better. It’s slow but it’s building up and will become faster and faster! Remember, you can teach a man to fish, but he can still mess it all up.”
Chairman Obelis sighed softly and looked up at Jeffrey. “You’re right, Jeffrey. You’re god damn right. I can’t mope. I have to stay strong, stay heady.” He stood up and gently brushed off Jeffrey’s hand. “Joe, I’ll get in touch with Silva or Thane right now. We need those implants in all of Arkansas now!”
“Awesome, boss!” replied McCarthy as he turned his chair back around, still fiddling with his finger up his nose. Jeffrey rolled his eyes at McCarthy’s constant use of the word ‘boss’ and how often McCarthy would fingerbang his nose.
“Jeffrey, stay here and monitor McCarthy while I make this phone call. I have to find Silva’s new weekly phone number on my desk!” Chairman Obelis said. Jeffrey nodded and returned to his seat. Chairman Obelis went to leave the room when all three men went still at the sound of an unusual noise.
Ding-a-dong.
Each man looked at one another.
“Um,” said McCarthy.
Ding-a-dong.
“This is a joke, right?” said Jeffrey.
“Quiet,” said McCarthy.
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
“Jeffrey,” said Chairman Obelis quietly, “hand me that tablet.” Jeffrey stood up swiftly to adhere to the command. He handed the nearby tablet to Chairman Obelis.
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
The intensity of the noise rose and echoed in each man’s ears.
“One moment,” said Chairman Obelis. “Checking the cameras.” He tapped and slid his finger all over the tablet to access the security cameras to his home.
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
It was a feature he rarely had to access as his houses had security devices that normally kept intruders at bay: Jehovah’s Witnesses, Girl Scouts, journalists, and looky-loos were all kept outside of his fences. Keeping people at bay was a central ideal of Chairman Obelis, as he did not want anyone to sabotage him – purposefully or accidentally. He was sure, however, it was just a malfunctioning doorbell and all would be solved soon enough since the complex security system in place did not activate.
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
“Almost there,” said Chairman Obelis. McCarthy and Jeffrey sat in their chairs quietly, breathing softly. “And now I’m seeing all the cameras. Everything appears to be fi… what in the world!” Chairman Obelis brushed the sweat off his forehead with one hand. “There’s someone at the door! There’s someone at the door! How?!”
Jeffrey began to panic. “Oh God, oh God, oh God,” stammered Jeffrey. “We gotta get Joe outta here, now!” Jeffrey ran over to McCarthy and tried to pull him out of the chair. “No one can know you’re alive! Get up!”
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
“Get off of me!” screamed McCarthy. “God damn it, stop touching me.” The two grappled for a few moments until McCarthy pushed Jeffrey off of him. “Stop it, Jeff!” Jeffrey stomped toward McCarthy.
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
“Both of you, quiet,” commanded Chairman Obelis as he kept watching the front door security camera’s live footage. It was hard to tell who the person was since the camera was at a poor angle. “Who the hell installed this camera? Why do we only have one camera focusing on the front door? This is poor planning.” It only showed the person from the chest to their knees. “They look a bit portly and out of shape. I can’t figure out who this person is – I can’t imagine they’re dangerous.”
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
“They have to be dangerous, sir!” said Jeffrey in a frazzled tone. “Why else would they come up to your house like this? How’d they even find this house? The one registered for the governor’s race is in Little Rock.”
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
“I have a plan,” said McCarthy. “Give me a disguise or some shit. I’ll pretend to be your butler or male maid or whatever the fuck it’s called nowadays.” Chairman Obelis looked up from the tablet. His face twisted towards McCarthy. “Come on, I barely looked like I did fifty years ago anyhow. Most people won’t know who Joe McCarthy even is. Damn that was sad to say.”
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
Chairman Obelis, face untwisted, looked over at Jeffrey. “What do you think, Jeffrey? Do we risk it?”
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
“I… I, um, I’m not in the best state of mind, sir,” said Jeffrey. He began to pull at the hair on his eyebrows. “Whatever, ow, you think is right, sir.” He continued to pick at his eyebrows frantically.
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
“Come on, Chairman Obelis!” laughed McCarthy. “If it’s an assassin I’ll take the hit! If it’s some booty looking to fuck you, I’ll take the hit!” He laughed again. “But seriously, sir, give me some formal clothes quickly. I’ll be a good little butler. I won’t even make eye contact or talk in a vulgar manner!” McCarthy got up from his chair and walked to the exit.
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
“Fine,” said an apprehensive Chairman Obelis. “Jeffrey, go get Joe a suit jacket, a white shirt and sunglasses. There should be some extra fat guy clothes in one of the guest rooms.”
“Sunglasses?” chimed both Jeffrey and McCarthy.
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
“Just an extra measure to conceal his identity,” said Chairman Obelis. “Now, both of you hurry! Now!”
Both men scurried out of the room.
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding
-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
“Does everything fit?” asked Jeffrey. “Screw it, just go. This person isn’t going to leave until someone answers that fucking door.”
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
McCarthy walked briskly to the front of the house in a tight black suit jacket, a wrinkly white buttoned shirt and lime green sunglasses. “These are the only ones I can find right now,” Jeffrey had told McCarthy as he dressed.
Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong. Ding-a-dong.
The sound of the doorbell had almost become a natural sound to McCarthy. He reached the front door, a behemoth of a door. There was no peep hole in the door for him to check the visitor’s appearance. He stopped and breathed in deeply. The doorknob turned quickly and McCarthy flung the door open with great strength.
“Hello, do you need something?” said McCarthy gruffly.
He was greeted by the white haired man that had talked to Jeffrey before the debate in Bella Vista, albeit Jeffrey paid no attention to the man on that night. McCarthy glared at the man until he spoke.
“Ah, yes, finally someone answered!” said the white haired man. “Glad to stop that infernal doorbelling!” The white haired man laughed. “Where is Chairman Obelis? I’m a big fan and supporter of his! I’d like to speak to him, directly.”
“Sorry, he’s not in,” replied McCarthy. “Do you want to leave a message? I will get it to him immediately.” McCarthy was drawn to the man’s wonderful blue eyes. They seemed familiar to him somehow. He shook his head before returning to glaring at the white haired man.
“I’m going to need to speak to him directly. It’s very dire.”
“I’m sorry but he’s not in. Like I said, do you want to leave a message? I promise it’ll get to him as soon as possible. That means very quickly!” McCarthy’s smarm began to turn on. “Now move along old man.”
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