The Writer’s Room: Outside the Writer’s Room
Each one of the four was holding John T. Snow down by a limb. The normally kind southern gentleman was struggling to escape.
“I’ll kill them! I’ll kill them both! Let me go!” screamed Snow.
The friends each struggled to keep him stable. Mike had the left arm, Harrison the right. Meanwhile Aaron and Metal Man had a leg each. Each man grunted at the strain of holding John Snow down.
“I don’t understand!” protested Aaron. “He’s gone crazy! What happened?”
“He he hasn’t been the same…urgh!” Mike strained under the strength of John Snow’s left arm. “He hasn’t been the same since he returned from that weird portal!”
“I fear something terrible has happened,” added Harrison the Mad Lego Artist.
“I second that,” said the 80s Metal Man as he gasped for breath. “I can’t keep holding him!”
“Let…me…GO!” screamed John Snow again. “I’ll kill them both!”
“No more Simmons soda for this guy,” joked Aaron. Nobody laughed.
Suddenly the board room doors slammed open. A team of Police ran in, guns out, and fanned about the room.
“Everyone stand back and release the suspect! He’s coming with us!”
With quick and efficient movements, the experienced crisis team swiftly had the manic John Snow restrained, and they escorted him to an adjacent room. It was over in what felt like seconds. Everything happened so fast. Before long, Snow was calmed and seated. The Police Captain came to speak to Mike.
“We’re taking him to hospital for observation and questioning,” informed the Captain. “He will be safe and in good hands. You are all welcome to follow and wait there for results. I don’t think there’s any reason to press charges. That doesn’t seem to be appropriate for this situation. We’ll get your friend some medical help and we’ll go from there. The hospital will keep him in custody for the time being.”
“That sounds good to us,” said Mike. For some reason he was picturing himself as a Police captain in a strange Noir-like universe where Harrison had a long handlebar moustache. A funny vision. He snapped back to reality. “Thank you officer, Harrison and I will go. These guys can go home to their patient families!” He then paused a moment and looked across the room at John Snow. “Can I…can I go speak to him a moment?”
“Just a moment,” answered the Captain as he motioned Mike to speak to John. Mike walked across the room and put him arm on Snow’s shoulder.
“Hey buddy,” he said in a calm voice. Snow nodded back in acknowledgement. He was sweating. He looked scared. “These guys are going to take care of you, but don’t worry. We’ll be at the hospital if you need us. We won’t be far. We’ll be following in my car. OK man?”
John nodded again, but said nothing. The Police escorted him while Mike and Harrison prepared to leave.
“If eternity should fail, we have his back,” said Harrison as he fastened his jacket. “I’m ready.”
Mike and Harrison were exhausted.
It had been 16 hours. They were told nothing except that John Snow was undergoing emergency surgery. That was last night. It was now past noon. Mike had managed to get four hours sleep, but Harrison was having trouble adjusting to this time zone. He fidgeted nervously with some Lego bricks he had in his pocket. Mike was slouched so far down in his chair that he was all but horizontal.
A doctor emerged in mask and scrubs. There were traces of blood on his tie. He saw the pair slouching in their plastic chairs.
“Are you gentlemen here for John Snow?”
“Yes doctor!” answered Harrison immediately while Mike slowly got himself up into a more dignified position. “What has happened?”
The doctor held up a small metallic oval. It was egg-shaped, but longer and narrow. It gleamed like a mirror with no visible markings or seams.
“We removed this from his skull. There was no entrance wound. It’s not a bullet. We have no idea how it got in there.”
Mike’s jaw dropped, as if he could identify the object. Harrison listened intently.
“The first thing we did when you first arrived was schedule a brain scan. When sudden, violent behaviour happens unexpectedly, we look for brain trauma. That’s when we found this. We spent 12 hours extracting it. Mr. Snow is unconscious in recovery. He is going to be fine. You may see him when he awakes. But this…this is extremely troubling.
“May I?” asked Mike as he got out his camera to take a photo. The doctor nodded and Mike snapped a shot of the silver object.
“This is going to Police headquarters for analysis,” said the doctor as he placed the object in a baggie. “You guys may as well go get some rest and come back in a few hours when John is ready to be moved. We’ll call you if there are any developments.”
“Thank you doctor,” said Mike and Harrison in unison. They both looked exhausted and hungry, but with relief now entering their bodies as the adrenaline faded away.
Mike and Harrison sat with their drinks.
“So, Harrison,” asked Mike after a sip from his straw. He held up his phone, and opened it to the photo of the silver capsule. “Do you know what this is?”
Harrison squinted but shook his head. “I must confess I do not.”
“I do,” dropped Mike like a bomb.
“Do tell,” said Harrison. He sprinkled some candy sprinkles on his bagel to make his own form of Australian Fairy Bread.
“You’re not going to believe this…or maybe you will, given we’re seemingly seeing our stories come to life,” began Mike. “This object is impossible…it is fictional. It does not exist. It is…” he paused for dramatic effect, “…a cerebro shell.”
Harrison’s expressionless face was without reaction.
“A cerebro shell. From Transformers Generation One? The Decepticons used them to control people. The Insecticon named Bombshell would insert these into a victim’s brain, and control that victim with it. Very hard to remove surgically, which is why it took so long.”
Harrison laughed. “No, really, what is it?” he responded.
“I’m telling you what it is!” answered Mike. “That, my Australian wunderkind, is a cerebro shell from the Insecticon named Bombshell. A Transformer has entered our universe from theirs, and attempted to take control of John T. Snow, of our writers’s room. And you know what that means.”
Harrison did indeed know what that meant.
“That means…they are trying to influence the story we are writing! The Adventures of Tee Bone Man! John said he wanted to kill ‘both of them’! The Decepticons want Tee Bone Man and Superdekes dead! But…why?”
“Don’t you see?” answered Mike. “They’re real! All of them! And we’re writing the final battle of their reality! Tee Bone Man and Superdekes, in some universe somewhere…they exist! And their stories are playing out exactly as we are writing them!”
“We can’t let them lose,” answered Harrison. “Tee Bone Man and Superdekes could be the only thing holding the evil back from invading our universe!”
Mike put his coffee down. “Dear God…Harrison…you’re right! The ultimate stakes here could be our very universe!”
Harrison thought a moment. He had an idea. “Last time we talked, I suggested we shut down Tee Bone Man and stop this mess. What happens if we do that?”
“I fear utter disaster awaits,” said Mike gravely. “If we stopped writing Tee Bone Man, there is nothing stopping them from finishing the story for us, with his death! And then nothing would stand between them and our universe! Every universe! Harrison…the entire multiverse may depend on us writing this story to its very end. And it has to end with Tee Bone Man and Superdekes winning. No matter the cost. We have to finish!”
Harrison wiped sprinkles from his moustache. “Then that is what we shall do,” he said with great resolve. “I suggest we begin to move our pieces into position for the coming battle.”
Mike nodded. “I agree. We have characters to introduce, others to bring home, and events to set into motion. Now’s the time.”
Mike’s phone buzzed.
“It’s the hospital. John is awake. Let’s go.”
John was seated in his bed, white bandages over his head. He was sipping a Gene Simmons ginger ale from a bottle with a straw. He smile grew wide when he saw the two friends enter his room.
“Harrison! Mike! Am I ever glad to see you guys!”
“We’re glad to see you too!” said Harrison.
“We were worried!” added Mike. The two took seats on opposite sides of Snow’s bed.
“Do you guys know what happened?” asked John.
“I do,” said Mike, “But let’s not worry about that right now. You need to rest. Harrison and I have the situation in hand.”
“You do?” asked John, turning his head from Mike to Harrison in search of answers. “What situation?” Mike and Harrison exchanged glances, but chose not to say too much.
“Everything is going to be fine,” calmed Harrison. “You’re safe. Nobody will be messing with your brain again.”
“And we brought you a gift!” exclaimed Mike while removing something from a bag. “You’re going to love this.” He handed Snow a small package.
“What is it?” asked John as he tore the paper open.
“It’s a new mini-sized Gene Simmons Vault! All the songs at a fraction of the cost!”
Snowman looked at his gift and smiled. “Do you guys know how much I paid for my original Simmons Vault?”
“Well now you have two!” said Harrison. “One to look at, and one to play!”
“Thanks guys,” said Snowman. “Sincerely. My goal is to collect at least two copies of everything Gene ever made. Thank you.”
A nurse popped her head in the room.
“Sorry folks, visiting hours are over. You can come back tomorrow.”
“See ya, John. Have a good rest. We’ll be back.” Mike and Harrison said their goodbyes, and exited into an empty corridor.
“We have a big problem,” said Harrison as the two walked. “We stacked the deck against the super heroes in our story. We have Satan, Trump’s clone, Shinzon, Darth Tyranus, who has the Force I must remind you, and of course the Eater of Worlds. Now, we just introduced Doctor K as the latest villain. I don’t think anyone has faced such danger in the history of fiction!”
“Then it’s time we even the odds,” answered Mike. “Let’s bring them back.”
“Bring who back?” answered Harrison, puzzled.
“Us! Bring us back! The heroes need Moustachio and the Brain again.”
“But the Brainiac is dead,” said Harrison. “You insisted we kill him in dramatic fashion.”
“You think there’s only one Brainiac in this multiverse?” chided Mike. “Let’s get plotting!”
“Now that’s a sentiment I can get behind,” said Harrison. “Off to the Toys R Us store. I need bricks. Lots and lots and lots of bricks.”
“Let’s go!” said Mike. “You know, the real life Toys R Us store in Kitchener is the location where we first introduced your clone, Shinzon, in our stories?”
“I do remember that detail, yes,” answered Harrison.
“I knew you would. To the Lego section!” said Mike. “Allons-y!”
And with that, the two friends set about their business, as forces of both good and evil began to align for the final battle.
To be continued….
THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN: PHASE ONE – THE SQUIRREL SAGA 
THE ADVENTURES OF TEE BONE MAN: PHASE TWO – THE MULTIVERSE SAGA
THE COMPLETE ADVENTURES OF EDIE VAN HEELIN’
THE WRITER’S ROOM
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