Spotlight News
July 19th, 2005Spotlight News
by Michael Ripley
Bill Gibson finished tying his right boot, stood, and said, “Come on, Al. If we’re going to make it before they close, we have to get going.”
Al stood, but didn’t leave his spot in front of the twenty-six inch Sony television. He has spent a lot of time watching this wonderful device that was a bonus catch from a previous venture like the one pulling him away tonight. Why that clerk was watching such a fine TV had amazed Al to distraction, and angered Bill to violence. Of course these were the two directions that Al and Bill were most prone to travel.
“Come on, Al.” said Bill again.
“Wait, just two seconds, Al. Take a look at this. Somebody ripped off this house while it was on fire. Nobody would have even noticed if they hadn’t left a bunch of shit in the back yard.”
He was watching the ten o’clock news. Normally Bill would have been interested too, but tonight they had a plan. This was Wednesday, always a big lottery day at the convenience store, and the perfect night for an easy little heist.
Heist was Bill’s favorite word. He felt more like Robert DeNiro when his crimes were heists instead of robberies. Robbery parts were given to Billy Baldwin. DeNiro would never simply rob from somebody.
Finally, Al started to move away from the set. He laughed at the news guy stumbling through the conclusion to the story. “OK, let’s go bro.” They left the apartment with Al flicking a disposable lighter to the beat of whatever silent song was currently screwing up his head.
The convenient store was actually a gas station that closed at eleven o’clock. At exactly ten forty-eight on this Wednesday night, Al and Bill, wearing identical black ski masks and black leather gloves, stepped inside, and looked around for fellow customers. The store was empty, except for a seventeen-year-old high school senior that lived two blocks away. He was the current, unlucky employee on duty at the scene of the Gibson brother’s latest planned heist.
“Lock the door,” said Bill.
Al spun the deadbolt behind them, and went straight for the cameras. Without looking into them, he sprayed the one in the back corner with paint that he picked right off the shelf in row four. He spun, tossed it across the store to Bill, and returned along the refrigerated pop section.
Bill, pretending that he had a gun, ordered the teenage clerk to put his hands out where they could be seen, and he immediately sprayed the lens of the camera behind the counter. They had learned that these were the only two cameras from a guy they met that used to work at this very BT Gas and Food. As predicted, the young clerk also was no problem.
“Get what you need man,” he said. “I could care less. Just let me out of here.”
“Can’t do that kid,” Bill replied. “Open the register, and the safe, and put everything in one of your grocery bags.”
“I can’t open the safe, man.”
“Like hell you can’t. I know the combination is right under the register drawer. You have to open it for money when the bread guy comes. Pretend he just showed up.”
The kid opened the register, and emptied the drawer into the largest bag that they carried. Under the drawer, and beneath the day’s worth of checks and stamps, he found, and removed a folded piece of paper.
“That’s it kid. Nobody is going to get hurt. Just don’t touch anything down there except the safe, and we’ll be out of here in no time.”
Only two minutes had passed, but Bill had not seen nor heard Al since he tossed the paint his way. The safe opened, and the boy was putting folded money and rolls of coins into the grocery bag. When he was done, he moved the bag to the counter top.
Al finally showed up with some tape. “Where you been?” asked Bill.
“Checking the place out. It’s cool,” responded an out-of-breath Al. “Let’s get going.”
“Well tape his ass up, so he doesn’t call anybody.”
Al jumped the counter, pushed the child to the floor, pulled his arms behind his back, and taped them together at the wrists. He then taped his ankles together, and for good measure, taped his legs to the post where the safe had been secured. Finally, he taped his mouth shut, and jumped back over the counter where Bill was at the door, and ready to go.
They left in their two year old, silver Cavalier, pulled out of the lot, turned right, the opposite direction of home, and sped down Twenty-Third Street. They were about three blocks away before either spoke. “Where did you disappear to?” asked Bill. “Never do that shit again.”
“I was adding a touch,” said Al.
“Adding a touch? What the hell does that mean?” Bill turned right on Maywood.
“Oh shit,” said Al. “Look down that way, you’ll see.”
Bill looked to his right, and saw fire coming from the back of a building about three blocks away.
“That’s not BT Gas is it, you dumb ass?”
“Yep.”
Bill hit the brakes. “What about that kid?”
“He’ll get out, won’t he,” asked Al.
“How tight did you tape him up?”
“Not too tight.”
“Did you leave him so he could hop out of there?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“You didn’t tape him to anything, did you?”
“No, he’s probably out of there all ready, but let’s go back.”
The sound of sirens in the distance was just starting to be discernable. Bill and Al sat for a moment looking for red lights. Bill knew that Al was lying. He also knew that they couldn’t go back. Slowly, he started to let the car roll away. They rode in silence the long way back to their apartment. Al turned the television on.
Down town in the Spotlight News main studio, exactly one hour before Bill and Al returned to their apartment, Ted Frame stood in front of the set holding up both hands and counted down from ten. The short clip showing two brown bears milling around a Colorado Supermarket was winding down.
“Four…three….two….one, and back.”
The Spotlight News team was closing out tonight’s show. The veteran anchor, John Mirer, was just wrapping the final story, “…and I guess that’s what they would call a bear market.” Slight chuckles were heard around the newsroom. “Don’t forget that the Late Show follows in about two minutes. For Mary, Ed, Chuck, and myself, have a safe and enjoyable night. We’ll be back tomorrow with more from the Spotlight News on six at ten. Goodnight.”
Ted’s hands were back in the air. “..three..two..one, and we’re off. Sound down, cameras off. OK, wrap it up crew. Good show.”
“What was that clip doing in there?” asked John while taking off his mike harness, and rising from the Anchor chair. “I know I said the same lame line about the same damn clip six months ago. I looked like an ass up here.”
Ted thought against telling him that he usually looked like an ass up there, but instead just ignored the question.
Jim Cross, the Spotlight News Producer was just coming down the stairs from the edit room, and arrived just in time to hear John’s question. “We meet in ten. See you then.”
Every night after the news show, the complete Spotlight team holds a meeting to discuss any issue at hand. Sometimes it’s a five minute meeting, and even if there is nothing to discuss, they get together. That is Jim’s rule.
Jim loves effect. He especially loves any effect that he causes. If he didn’t hold routine meetings, and he had something to talk about, he would have to schedule one. Once he did that, he would have questions raised by their curiosities, and they would know that something is up. By holding a meeting every night, he can always surprise his staff with his news, and gain the effect that he loves to see. Jim is a bright boy.
John Mirer went to the dressing room with Ed Barnes. Ed is the Spotlight News Weatherman. They used the ten minutes to remove some of the makeup. John finished up and headed down the hall for Jim’s office.
Mary Roush went to her own dressing room, and freshened up a bit, but was already in Ted’s office by the time John got there. John walked in saying, “This is getting pretty lame Jim. We were left stumbling for two minutes, and then that damn clip. Everybody will remember seeing it. It wasn’t that long ago. What is going on around here?”
“Wait for everybody to come in. Where is Ted?”
“He was right behind me,” said Mary.
Ed, the Weatherman was just walking into the office, and Jim asked him if he had seen Ted.
“He’s down the hall, looking pretty bad,” said Ed.
“I’ll get him,” said Mary as she left the room. Now only John, Ed, and Jim were sitting around the long oval conference room table. John looked at Jim and gave him his best impatient look. Jim was smiling at the effect.
“Look Jim,” started John. “We don’t need everybody here for you to give me a simple answer to my question. We are running out of text, and we’re repeating spots from our on the scene reporters.”
“Give them a minute, John. I’ll give you an answer, but I’m not starting over when they come in.”
“I don’t care if you do start over. It’s my question. It’s my concern. Has anybody else expressed an interest in it?”
“Well it’s probably the same thing that has Ted’s stomach in an uproar.”
Ted and Mary were just walking in. “Hey, that’s my stomach you’re talking about, and I’d appreciate it if you would at least wait until I get here to talk about me.”
“That’s what I was just telling John,” said Jim. “Let’s get going. Everybody is here, finally. John, now ask your questions.”
“I just asked what’s going on. Did we cut back staff? Are we not getting enough from the wire, or did we lose a reporter? Something is off. I was left out to dry for about five minutes out there tonight, and had to wing it. I’ve never had to do that before. You typically put so much into the prompter that Mary and I have to talk eighty miles an hour. Don’t you see it too Mary?”
“Yes, of course I see it, John. I was watching you wing it along with everybody else.”
“You weren’t exactly jumping in.”
“Not while the camera is on you, I’m not jumping in.” Mary privately enjoyed watching John stumble. She had her own ambitions. Bailing him out wasn’t high on her priority list.
“Ok, you want an answer,” started Jim. “I’ll try to explain what happened tonight.”
“Why doesn’t Chuck ever have to come to these meetings?” Ed the weatherman blurted in.
Chuck Wiley was the up and coming sportscaster that the network had sent in. He technically reported to Jim, but had direct connections with New York. He seldom worried about discussing anything with Jim or Ted, and absolutely never attended any of these meetings.
“Come on Ed,” said Mary. “You know why he doesn’t come.”
“Well then why should I?” asked Ed.
“Leave. Maybe then Jim can answer my question,” said John.
“Oh shit, my stomach,” said Ted. He popped a handful of antacids, and looked at Jim. “Can’t you just get this done?” He turned to Ed. “Just get over it, Ed. If you can’t get over it, then leave. I’ve never seen this group in such a crazy mood as you guys have been in over the past week. Let’s worry about that. Unless you suddenly get very well connected, you’re not going to come and go like Chuck.”
“OK, here it is,” started Jim. “If it’s alright for me to go on that is.” He looked around the room to blank faces. He expected more. “On every news day since I’ve been doing this job, we go through the same routine before you guys ever come in. We have twenty-two minutes to fill. The Weather takes a mandatory three minutes based on network guidelines. The sports segment gets five. Sorry Ed. We have the obligatory four minutes of human interest pieces, and that leaves you two with ten minutes of hard news. We get feeds from the wire and our own crews that amount to about forty minutes every day. I have to whittle this forty minutes of news down to your ten minutes of air time.”
“I’ve heard that you sit in here and whittle something,” Mary said. “I guess it’s confirmed now.”
“Thanks for your input Mary, but don’t be upset if I just ignore you now. I want to get through this. Starting yesterday, you’ve been getting everything I’ve got. I blew it tonight, but not by five minutes. I thought that spot on the house fire robbery was three minutes, and it turned out to air two. You only had about sixty seconds to cover.”
“That had to be longer,” said John.
“You lose time when you freeze John,” Mary shot back.
“Ok, do you guys get it?” asked Jim.
Ed spoke up first. “Are you saying that we don’t have enough news?”
“Yeah.”
“You mean like in the world?”
“Yeah. The wire is slow as hell. I’ve sent teams out to cover local things, and they just dry up. We have spots in the six o’clock news that fizzle out by ten. Tonight I was sure that the accident on Sixteenth Street was going to be our out. We had a crew there live. I would have had Ted go to them, but it was cleared up before we were ready. It wasn’t even that bad to begin with. You guys reported all of the news that we had. Nothing was left on the floor except a report about an old lady still delivering baked goods to shut-ins when she is ninety-nine years old. She’ll be real news next year.”
“Ok, so what about tomorrow,” asked John.
“Well, this must be a fluke. Just in case, I’ve lined up ten minutes of fluff to be shot during the day tomorrow. We’ve got all four crews going out. We’ll get some things in the can, and when I need them, we’ll put them on. Hopefully, they won’t all be needed tomorrow.”
“We can’t just sit there,” started Mary. “What I mean is that we can’t just sit and introduce little clips for thirty minutes.”
“Twenty-two,” said Ed.
Jim was smiling. He was getting his reactions now. “I know. John asked what happened out there. I just told you. I’m sure that this week is unique. It’s never happened before, and I don’t expect it to ever happen again. All I’m trying to let you know is that I’m making sure that we get ourselves better prepared. We have these spots ready, and I won’t leave you hanging. You’ll be talking fast again by tomorrow night.”
“Can we go now?” asked Ted.
“Yes.”
The Spotlight News team disbanded for the night just like they do every night. They each went their separate ways. Ed and Mary live close enough together to share a ride, but have never even considered it. Ed normally goes straight home, and tonight is no exception. Mary normally goes another direction.
John followed her one night about a month ago. He watched as she went into a west side club called The Norm. It was one of those places where the modern interior décor didn’t quite mesh with the beer garden out back that was lit with hanging green, red, and yellow lights. She stayed inside, so John had a tough time keeping an eye on her without being seen. He saw her go straight to a table and join a man who had his back to John’s vantage point. After about two minutes, the man turned and faced him. It was Chuck, and he definitely saw John watching them.
John got out of there, and spent the next week expecting Mary to give him shit about following her. Evidently, Chuck never told her what he saw.
Tonight Ed went home, Mary headed west, Chuck was already long gone, and John offered to buy Ted a drink. Ted refused as usual, and went straight to his apartment. John decided to walk the three blocks to the Upstreet Drinkery and Grub Club, his favorite local establishment. On the way, he thought about Mary wedging her way in with the guy that had connections. He also thought about the lack of news. He faintly heard sirens in the distance that he knew might be a story in progress.
During the second block, there was a guy that he was going to pass by that kept staring at him. John wondered if he got mugged, would it be on tomorrow’s news? Would he be a story that would fill the minutes on the air? After all, that’s what they are, stories. Do they always have to be bad to be considered newsworthy?
During the third block he realized for the first time that his job depended on bad news. Bad things must happen in the world to keep him going. There had never before been a shortage to even cause him to stop and think about it.
Finally he reached the bar.
The next night, John arrived at the studio at eight o’clock. He was getting off the elevator and walking towards his dressing room to prepare for the show, and couldn’t resist stopping by the editing room to see how Jim was doing. “What’s it look like tonight, Jim?”
“We’re fine. You go get ready. We’ll fill your air time without a problem.”
What Jim didn’t tell John was that it would be filled with the work that the remote crews had done during the day. He was only able to get about six minutes of hard news for John and Mary, but he had plenty of film. Now, it was just a matter of getting them timed out in the edit room to fill the space. He also has a live crew at a speech being given by Senator Mason at the new hospital wing opening. Tonight would be a breeze. They had plenty of fluff.
Several miles away Bill and Al sat in front of their television eating a double cheese pizza. Al had felt sick all day and hadn’t left the apartment. Bill had started the day still a little upset with Al for last night, but by now, wouldn’t even look at him. They hadn’t talked for about three hours. The only words either of them had uttered during that time were when Al ordered the pizza.
Bill and Al had sat on the couch watching news reports all day. Each time they both thought that something would change. They had made the news before, but on every one of those occasions, they had jumped, shouted, and even high-fived each other. Today, it took until mid-afternoon to not feel sick. Now they could barely get through their favorite meal.
Tonight was day four of Bill’s major heist plan. In total, there were six jobs to be done this week. Six and out. They would have all the money they would need for a long time to come. Six and out. They would be gone from this town, gone from the crazy weather, gone from all of their problems. They needed to be thinking about part four, but they were locked into three. They needed to see the news again. They needed to know for sure. Maybe it would change. Maybe the boy didn’t die.
At exactly ten o’clock on this Thursday evening, John Mirer said hello to the audience of Spotlight News on Six at Ten. Spotlight News had enjoyed a successful run as the city’s number one news show for over a decade. It was the last source of news for about a million people right before they turned the set off and called it a night. The other two major news shows had been in a fight for second place for so long that they considered it fine. Second was their prize.
Ted Frame was considered the best in the business, and received a great deal of the credit for the show’s success. He was a fixture at the station. Anchors had come and gone, and even Jim Cross had been named the producer only three years ago. Ted was in his twelfth year as director. He ran a clean ship, and provided a tight thirty-minute live show night after night. That’s why this week had bothered him and his stomach. It was anything but tight.
Jim was responsible for the content, but Ted ran the show. Tonight he was in early enough to go over everything himself. He wasn’t going to be left with a clip scripted at two minutes that runs one. John Mirer wasn’t an anchor that could handle that.
Everything was perfect tonight.
Bill and Al sat there watching. They had talked a little at about nine o’clock, and decided that they were going on with their mission. They would finish this out, and get the hell away from here. Tonight’s job was different than the previous, and it wouldn’t get out of hand. It was an ATM that they knew how to get into. It was busy all day, but sat in a spot mostly vacant at night. Bill had done the homework. A truck came at ten fifteen every night to fill it up. They would wait until nobody was around. Tonight, nobody could get hurt.
The sports segment was already on. They hadn’t mentioned their work. How could it be gone already? Bill checked his watch. He knew that the ATM was being filled with cash, and was ready to start heading over to it. It would take about twenty minutes to get there. “Come on Al, let’s get moving.”
Al stood, but didn’t move. “Wait a minute. I can’t believe there’s nothing on. Just wait. Maybe they’ll get back to it.”
“What does it matter? Come on.”
“I don’t know. It matters.”
“Come on.”
“Shit.” Al turned the television off, threw the remote on the couch, and followed Bill out the door. They found their ATM, broke it open, and got the money just like Bill had planned. Day four’s heist had gone on schedule, and with no surprises.
“..three..two..one, and we’re off. Sound down, cameras off. OK, wrap it up crew. Good show.” Ted grabbed his stomach and took off down the hall.
“What’s wrong with him now?” John was getting out of his wires, and felt pretty good about tonight’s show.
“I don’t know. That went pretty well. We didn’t have much to go on, but we did just fine. Go see what’s wrong.” Mary was already heading towards her dressing room and left John to check on Ted.
“Jim, I think Ted’s in bad shape.” John tried to turn Jim down the hall as they came together from their opposite perches.
“I bet he is. That was some shit, wasn’t it?”
“What? I thought we did fine.”
“You did fine, John. Don’t worry about it.”
Ed Barnes wondered over to the area, “Hey, what’s up? Don’t worry about what?”
“Yeah, what did you mean by that?” asked John.
“We meet in five minutes. Let’s go over it then.” Jim was getting some effect. He wasn’t about to let it go without making them all wait a bit.
Everybody was in Jim’s office within five minutes tonight. Everybody, that is, except for Chuck.
“OK, we’re all here,” started John. “I thought that went fine. We did our job. Ted, you did yours, and Jim, we all had something to say during the whole show. What the hell did you guys see that was so bad?”
“I told you not to worry about it, John. You did fine. Mary did fine. Even Ted did fine. I’m the one that screwed up, and my phone already rang. I have to call New York back right after our meeting. You didn’t notice anything missing from tonight’s show?”
“No,” said John immediately.
“Well I did,” interjected Ted. “News.”
“What news?” asked Mary.
“Exactly,” started Jim. “Now you’re getting it.”
Everybody sat there looking around the room for ten or fifteen seconds. Finally, Ed broke the silence. “I’m glad that all of you are getting now, but I am still pretty damn lost. What the hell is going on?”
Ted spoke up. “Ed, there wasn’t any news on tonight’s show. We had some, and Jim and I planned to use it. We got together early today, and we were so damn concerned about those filler pieces, that we left out the news.”
“It wasn’t you fault Ted,” said Jim. “I’m in charge of content. I was the one so excited about the film that we had. I left the shit out.”
“Well those clips were pretty good,” said Mary. “Your remote teams did a great job today.”
“You know what guys? I liked the show. Everything we aired was news. I’m going to send them out again tomorrow, and put their work on the air again. What I have to remember is to blend in some regular news.” Jim was actually smiling.
“Now we’re worried about blending in news as a filler to have something put between your interest clips?” asked Ted.
“Yeah, something like that, Ted. Let’s get out of here. Tomorrow will go better, and I’ve got a call to make.”
Jim Cross called New York at exactly eleven o’clock. Network management has a team of people that monitor all live local broadcasts via their satellite hookups. Only one thing was noticed by the monitor assigned to Jim’s station: There was no mention of the Avanta Airlines jet that crashed near Mexico City that afternoon. Every affiliate, and all national news broadcasts ran this important bit of news on every show. Somebody wondered why Jim didn’t have a time slot to fit it in.
“We left it laying on the floor,” Jim replied to his accuser. “I don’t have any excuses. We’ve been having problems getting the time filled, like everybody else, and I was so busy trying to fill the holes that I left it out.”
The other end of the line was silent for a long while. “You know that the drought is over, don’t you? That wasn’t fun for a lot of people, but it was a fluke. There is plenty of news, and you had better get it on the air. Hell, six o’clock ran it fine. All you have to do is use that script to start with.”
“Don’t start telling me how to run this thing. You know I know what to do. I just blew it tonight. We’ll be fine.”
“Just make sure.”
Thomas Bradley hung up the phone in New York. Jim had received his message, and was sure that Bradley had other calls to make. The monitors are like the little snitches that watch and tell the boss. The boss then makes the calls to lay down the law, and make sure that everybody knows he is watching. Jim happened to hate this part of the business. He didn’t, however, tell Mr. Bradley that he had actually liked the show. It didn’t seem like the right thing to say.
Bill was relieved that day four of the major heist plan had gone well. There were two nights left, and tonight, Friday, was the most difficult plan of all. It was a little after ten o’clock, and once again Al needed to be nudged from the television. Spotlight News was on the air, and it attracted Al like a magnet.
“Look at these women,” Al said as he sat there putting on his shoes. “This is going on now, Bill. Look at this.”
Bill moved back to the couch and looked at what had Al so excited. Three women had put together a charity contest at a local paint ball shooting range. They were the Three Amigos, and challenged any body to bring their team down to beat them: three on three. Anybody that could beat them would get a free weekend in Orlando.
“There has to be a catch,” said Bill.
“What catch? Maybe they’re just good.”
“Come on, Al. Let’s go.”
“Wait a minute.” The segment on the paint ball for charity event was over. The weather was next, and Al was still sitting on his ass.
“Al, come on. What are you doing? The sooner we get this over, the better. Two jobs left, remember? Then we’re out of here.”
“Why don’t we skip tonight, Bill? We have enough.”
“The plan, dumbass. Stick to the plan.”
“I don’t want to go tonight.”
“You were fine ten minutes ago.”
“Well that was then. Let’s just go over to this paint ball place, have a little fun, and forget tonight.”
“You are crazy, you know it,” Bill left the apartment. He went downstairs, and outside to figure out what to do. You stood on the porch at the front of the building and watched cars going each way on the street, as if they all had places to go. They all had a plan.
Al watched the rest of the news, and Bill walked back in at ten twenty-eight. Mary was bringing in a live feed to wrap up the show. Just as Bill’s luck would have it they were closing the show back at the paint ball arena.
“Come here, look at this,” said Al.
Bill sat on the couch next to Al. Together they watched the excitement on the screen.
“Look, that guy has night vision goggles on. Look at that gun.” Al was getting excited now.
Bill was starting to smile as he too had found an interest in charity. “Oh, shit, they’re going to nail her. Ouch lady.”
“Let’s go,” begged Al.
“We don’t have any of that stuff. It’s not like you can just walk in and start shooting people.”
Bill’s timing was impeccable. Just as he finished, the segment ended. John closed the show as normal, but before he said goodbye, he said, “It looks like they’re having a ball at Rainbow Challenge Arena, and nobody has beaten The Three Amigos yet. Get over there before midnight. Remember, the people at Rainbow will set you up with all the gear you need at no charge for tonight. All you have to do is donate twenty-five dollars per person to The Feed America Foundation. Now for Mary, Ed, Chuck, and myself, have a safe and enjoyable night. We’ll be back tomorrow with more from the Spotlight News on six at ten. Goodnight.”
Bill was hooked, “Ok, let’s go. We’ll check this out, and decide if we want to stay, but tomorrow night, no screwing around. Count this as a favor. You got it?”
“Yeah sure, let’s go. You want to go as bad as I do.”
Al and Bill arrived at Rainbow Challenge at eleven o’clock.
“I’m using that gun,” said Al as he pointed behind the young girl at the counter.
“That gun isn’t a part of the Feed America program, sir.” The girl, Lisa, held out a small handgun, and a handful of paint balls. “You’ll also need the protective gear. It’s all over there in the viewing room. They’ll set you up, and you’ll need to donate twenty-five dollars to Mrs. Ellis. She’ll be in the viewing room too.”
“How much extra would I have to pay to use that gun?”
“You would have to buy it. Anybody can bring their own gear, but tonight we only rent out the ten shot Little Bucks.”
“How much?”
“That gun is almost two hundred dollars, sir.”
Bill stepped in, and Al thought he was going to pull him away, “We’ll take two, he said, and how much are the balls?”
“The balls are twenty dollars for a box of one hundred. Mr. James, can you come back here? I’ve never handled selling one of these guns before.”
Mr. James was the owner of Rainbow Challenge. He smiled at Lisa, walked behind the counter, turned to Bill and Al, and said, “Hi fellas. What can I do for ya?”
“We want two of those guns,” said Al.
“OK, do you need any protective gear? I’ll throw in some balls for your first time out.”
“Can we just use what they have in there?” asked Bill.
“Sure. In fact….Mrs. Ellis!” Randle James was now shouting across the room at the same Mrs. Ellis that Lisa was sending the boys to see in the viewing room. “Come over here a minute, will ya.”
Nancy Ellis, one of the Three Amigos, herself, walked over and joined the group. “What’s up Randy? Linda took over in there for a few minutes. Wow, this turned out well. We’re packed.”
“These two guys are planning to buy four hundred dollars worth of guns. I just wanted you to know that I’m giving all the profit to Feed America. They’ll be in there in just a minute to pick up some guards, and pay their twenty-five.”
“You didn’t tell us you were doing that. That’s wonderful.”
“I planned to hold that till the end, but this is our big sale of the night, and I thought I’d grab you while I could.”
“In that case, we’ll just go ahead and buy the other gear too. That sound good, Al?” Bill was obviously getting into the spirit now. He typically got loose with his money when it would impress people the most. Al was just excited about all the new toys.
When everything was settled, Bill handled Randy James six hundred and fifteen dollars in cash. They carted everything to the viewing room, and paid Linda fifty dollars for their donation to Feed America.
There was a line forming at the counter, and the parking lot was full. Nancy and Randy walked into the viewing room as Bill and Al were getting suited up. First, Nancy announced the new donations and introduced the two like they were celebrities. Al lit up like a Christmas tree, finished getting ready, and took off for the arena. Bill wasn’t far behind.
“Look, we may have a little problem,” Linda said to Randy.
“What’s that?”
“We’re supposed to close at midnight. Look at that line.”
“Do you ladies want to stay later?”
“We’ll stay as long as you will let us.”
“Ok, I’ll work it out with the staff, and make an announcement. You better get suited up. Nobody has won the trip yet. Will those folks mind if you stretch the time out?”
“They were expecting to lose. I think we’re doing better than we were supposed to do at this.”
Rainbow Challenge stayed open until two o’clock that morning. The charity was a raving success, and most importantly, Al and Bill teamed up with an eighteen-year-old boy named, Justin, and beat the Three Amigos. They won the trip to Orlando.
“Thank you,” started Nancy Ellis. “You guys deserve this.”
Al and Bill stayed around the viewing room and talked while they put all of their new gear into canvas bags that Randy James had given them. “We had ball,” said Al. “Do you do this very often?”
“No, this was the first time for paint ball, but we do have events about once a month. Nothing this fun, though.”
“Can we join you? I’d like to help.”
Bill piped in, “We’re not sure where we’re going to be next month, Al.”
“We might be in Orlando,” said Al.
Bill was ready to go. He had, like Al, had a ball, and wasn’t against the idea of helping these ladies out some more. He, however, remembered that they had a plan. “Let’s get going, Al. Thanks ladies.”
Bill and Al went home, dropped back on the couch, and turned on the television. There was a late night news break on, and reality was put back in their laps. “No leads on the person or persons responsible for the death of Alan Rooney at the BK Gas convenient store on Tuesday night.”
A clip was running showing flames coming from the store that was all too familiar to Al and Bill. Bill got up, turned the set off, and went to bed. Al stayed on the couch, and started to cry.
The next night at ten fifteen, “….three..two..one, and we’re away.”
Laughter had gotten the best of everybody on the set. Mary Roush had blown her line, and the sad part was that her line was, “In a storm that devastating, something is bound to be destroyed beyond salvage.” In her haste to get beyond the clip about the barn falling, she replaced devastating with masturbating. “In a storm that’s masturbating, something is bound to be destroyed beyond salvage.”
The commercial was almost over, and nobody had control on the set. As they returned, John just needed to introduce Chuck for the sports segment, and then it was up to him, “And now, Chuck, how about that finish at the second round of the open? It was like Tiger was playing by himself.”
Chuck could not speak. He choked back laughter for fifteen seconds before he lost his grip. “Oh, it certainly seemed that way John,” he finally blurted out in a burst so fast you could hardly understand him. Then it got worse. The whole crew laughed as control was totally gone. Chuck tried to start up several times, but took too long to get back on track.
Ted rolled the prompter ahead several stories, and flashed the local scores on the screen. Chuck finally joined in and read as they were displayed. He had it down, and finally finished Spotlight Sports.
Of course there was going to be meeting. Jim did not speak to anybody after the telecast, and was waiting in his office for everybody to show up. Tonight they were very slow. They laughed for a good ten minutes after they were off the air. Finally they were all assembled and ready to go, when in walked Chuck.
“Hey, you mind if I join tonight?”
“Hell no,” said Ed. “Come on in.”
Jim started the meeting, “You know how deep my ass is in over this? I’m not going to get through it. First they don’t like our content, and know we can’t even get through it on the air. They are going to have my ass.”
“Come on, Jim,” said John. “It can’t be that bad.”
Chuck was looking at Jim. “No wait, John. It is that bad. Jim is way out on a limb here. He’s not making it up.”
“No shit,” agreed Jim.
“What are they going to do?” asked Mary. “I screw up a line, and you’re in trouble?”
“I’m in trouble, because of everything the past week or so. Not because you screwed up a line, Mary. We haven’t been reporting a lot of the stories they want on the air. I am going with our ratings. We are getting double the audience of the next news show. We are reporting what they want. We got about a thousand calls today, and they were all good. I also got several thank you notes from organizations that are seeing record turnouts and contributions. It has dawned on me that we might be doing a little good here, but it’s not what we are supposed to be about.”
“What are we then?” This was Mary again.
“We were supposed to do a story on date-rape tonight. This is a college town. I’m sure there are stories out there. All we had to do was send somebody over to city hall like usual. I didn’t do it.”
“I’m lost now,” started John. “What do you mean we were supposed to do a story on date-rape? Did something happen that should have been news?”
“Well that’s the question, isn’t it? What should be the news? We’re giving them news, but the going belief is that we need to give them bad news. There’s more than enough going on out there. I just didn’t realize that some of it is good until we needed it to fill time this week. Yesterday’s show was huge, and we left the normal stuff on the floor. I bet tonight’s ratings are great too.”
“What about the date-rape story?” asked Mary.
“There is going to be a segment Sunday night on prime time about date-rape. It always peaks the interest if we have stories that relate to those shows. Hell, we have even had to use real stories to pitch network movies that were coming up. Why do you think we hear about something until we’re sick of it, and then it suddenly goes away? It isn’t a problem any longer. The damn stories just aren’t needed any longer.”
“It’s not that bad,” said John. “I know they’ve done that a times, but not all that often.”
“How about every week, at least,” replied Jim.
“This is big business,” said Chuck. “Jim is going to be lucky to survive if things don’t change quick.”
“But I’m the one doing it, guys. It’s not you. And by the way, I’m not changing it.”
Al and Bill had been watching tonight’s broadcast, and rolled on the floor until ten forty-five that night. They had another night of the plan, the last night. Neither were in any mood to get it done.
“Let’s just go over there,” said Al.
Bill thought about objecting. It would have been normal to object. Then he said, “OK, let’s go. I’m hungry.”
The boys had seen ‘Al’s Diner’ on the news before all the laughter started. It is great American food and they stay open late. That was enough for the two of them tonight. No crime, just food, and maybe a little fun.
“That a boy, Bill. Let’s just have dinner and maybe find something better to do tonight.”
Jim Cross received his phone call. “If things are not back to normal Monday night, you will be out of a job.”
“I do not plan to change anything, but I understand your warning.”
Jim hung up the phone. He had seen a light, and would never feel right just putting up the news again. He knew he was going to lose this. There was no way to win in sight. He went home.
During this especially peaceful night in St. Louis, Jim slept well. He knew that he may lose his job. Hell, he counted on it now. He knew that everything he had believed in during his career was false, and he believed that it might have even been evil, but he also knew that it had all recently changed forever. He would never go back to spewing the evening news according to the network gods.
Jim knew that there may be just a few people effected by what he did at ten o’clock every night, but that they were typically the ones making the news, making things bad, and making his conscience seem heavier each night of his life. It would stop now, at least for him, it would stop.
What he didn’t know was that over the past couple of weeks every special event, every charity, every bake sale, hog roast, festival, and bingo game that Spotlight News had covered reached their record attendance, contribution, and profit due in large part, to the publicity brought on by their coverage. People took action, because they were told it was a good thing to do by Spotlight News.
John decided at home that night that he would follow Jim’s lead and take a stand against the network. Ed decided that he would stick to the weather. Mary and Chuck met once again at The Norm and discussed their future.
Monday night’s show ran with tales of charity, signs of decent people, reviews of great food, and a section on the cardio benefits of dancing. Bill and Al stayed in town, ate at the restaurant they saw on Spotlight News, and Jim was fired. John went with him.
On Tuesday night Bill and Al sat eating Chinese carryout, and watching the Spotlight News on Six at Ten. They watched in disbelief, as the new anchor, Mary Roush explained the disappearance of John Mirer, and his desire to pursue bigger adventures. She beamed as she brought the news of the disturbance near Western and Third Street. She seemed delighted at the murder near Union Station, and she was absolutely on top of the world over date rape at Washington University.
“Did you see that dude on the west side?” asked Al. “It looked like his head was caved in.”
“Do you think it’s still going on?” wondered Bill.
“Who knows? They wouldn’t tell us the truth.”
“Let’s go over there.”
“OK.”
Bill and Al went to the intersection of Western and Third streets. There were in fact still remnants of the violence that had been going on there since about eight o’clock that night. They got themselves involved just as a mid-town gang arrived on the scene and decided to take things up a notch. With the first sound of gunfire, Al fell to his knees. Bill ran to him, and was taken down within moments by the same gun.
“Al, let’s take all this back. Let’s get out of here.”
“I can’t move.”
“Neither can I.”
_______________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________
_______________________________________________________
The End