MR. MALDARK: PARTY ON THE TRAILS, PAGE 2

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at the interview, Camera Guy is sitting beside Bryan Cranston with a nervous tigger.

Camera Guy: so Bryan, can these men ever work in this town again?

Cranston: it would have to take a devastatingly forgiving society. and they would have to show true deep abiding contrition. priest-level contrition. in front of the camera or it doesn't count. but everyone deserves a chance. look at me. i got a chance. who knew i was anything other than Malcolm's goofy dad?

Camera Guy: what about the women?

Cranston: society is reevaluating itself. which is a good thing. we need a do-over. we need to smash every last purloined pylon down and start from scratch. we must build inward. we must think back. have i ever called someone a sweetie? well it was inappropriate to call her a sweetie. don't be so sweetie all the time, act mean and keep a healthy distance from others.

Camera Guy: what's the long-term solution?

Cranston: no more extracurricular talking. just say your lines as exactly written in the script, that's the actor's job. you start adlibbing, you start trouble. never reveal yourself, don't let your personality slime its way through. simple. just never say anything ever again.

Camera Guy: how do i know you're not acting? for all i know you could turn and kill me when the cameras turn off.

Cranston: thank you, that's very kind.

Camera Guy: would you like some cranberries before your big FDR speech?

Cranston: thank you kindly. with whip cream. i love whip cream when i sex.

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Kelechi is at Mr. Maldark's house, what's left of it. Intendo is spinning himself around the last toilet.

Intendo: you better win that race. you got no mo money. i checked your funds, even your secret Swiss account.

Mr. Maldark: i only use that money to pay for my love of Roger Federer.

Intendo: gotta pay for this house or it becomes official FBI property. then we'll get to the bottom.

Maldark: there's nothing here. you won't find it.

Intendo: your cats are ever the fighters. my men were tearing open the backs of all your paintings. i guess i watch too many movies. i strive to anyway. we went to the cupboard for lunch after all our hard work and your cats sprang out of an empty can of Old Potato soup and scratched our eyes out.

Kelechi: damn they both fit in there?

Maldark: my purple people eaters, ever by my side.

Intendo: we checked all your holes.

Maldark: it was painful.

Intendo: as you can see, there are no more holes. they all became the sky. your chimney's been hollowed out. you should really check out the course. it's all pretty and painted. ready for race day.

Kelechi: not a bad suggestion. but it was my idea.

Intendo puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out two tickets...

Intendo: tell you what, i got someplace i gotta be, why don't you two...

Maldark stops him midsentence with a karate chop.

Maldark: eh, take yourself.

Intendo: fine by me.

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Less is slowly wrenching himself away from his consoles. he gingerly hails a cab and takes off his sweater. he takes the giant leap from the curb to sit in the frontseat of the cab instead of the back. a woman from Saudi Arabia discusses politics in soothing tones.

woman: and so we finally got the right to drive in my country. if you wait long enough, change will come.

Less: can i take the wheels? the controls? i'm training.

woman: i could get fired. but go ahead, this freedom is contagious. see? it's not so bad. go ahead, extend your spin. you sound depressed when you talk.

Less: i don't know what my trouble is. other than hating driving.

woman: that's just it. it's not depression. it's that you never drove anywhere. you were stuck this whole time. if you want to break free, you must drive away to your places. you'll feel light and airy the minute you book your first crosscountry trip, you'll see. *wags finger* just no planes, mister!

Less: thank you. i didn't catch your name. you're not wearing your nameplate by law.

the woman brakes abruptly to let a sea otter cross the road in his little lane of Sea Otter Xing that was erected after that one famous sea otter died from roadkill. the stone in the otter's memory shines the sun off sadly every time a driver passes it, like a reflector which came too late.

woman: for a reason. disappear into your ocean, little one. go ahead and take that stuffed lion with you resting in the middle of the backwindow there.

Less: but you're driving here in this country. why don't you go back to your country?

woman: *winks* it's the symbolism of the thing.

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