Rodger and Emily
Emily takes a walk at sun-down, tiny silhouettes shaped like birds destroy and rebuild patches of light
as they war over the sky.
Emily trips on a stone pipe protruding from the ground and stumbles past a wooden cart full of various
round fruits. Regaining her balance, Emily's eyes begin to imitate the sun's setting; becoming
sagging balls of watery brown twilight, drifting into the sea of her cheeks.
Turning randomly at a block of gray building, Emily passively watches the pavement give
way to a phosphorous green sponge-walk. She pauses, focusing away from her foot,
smelling damp leaves floating in a copper air-duct stored away in the bowels of an exotic
Emily considers becoming a limbless planet and falls through the hedges at the side of the building to
I'm in a tunnel
Emily sighs feeling her foot drag along the ground.
Emily is on all fours groveling forward under a canopy of multi-spined hedge.
Emily's eyes begin to moan but she is unable to sleep. The continuous series of leafy arches draws her
towards the tunnels exit.
Emily is in an esophogus. So sorry for her limbs, poor Emily, trudging on potato stuffed elephant
trunks- trying not to trip over her fingers.
Emily bumps her head. She sees feet cloaked in black shoes. A ringed finger is offered to her. The
finger is soft and prickly. It lifts her to her feet.
Emily sees she is standing in an enclosed statue garden. Around the garden she sees statues of bushes,
solitarily placed. Near the back, atop a statue of tile, Emily sees a statue shaped like a couch
and a statue of a television. In one corner, there is a statue of a shivering pile of hair. Beside
her, Emily sees a statue of a man wearing an intelligent suit.
Emily begins to walk towards the statue of the couch.
Hello there, little girl
the man-statue calls to Emily,
You appear to be tired, and I'd be more than happy to allow you to
rest your weary little legs on my statue of a couch.
Who are you?
I'm doing market research on a brand new show that will change the
way you watch television.
Please, sit, I can tell you are tired. Ok! Now if you'll just reach that
tiny little paw of yours into the pocket of the couch-statue, you'll find
there a statue of a clip-board. There's a smart little girl, I bet you are
a tremendous reader. Now, if you'll just remove the fully functional
statue of a pen from the clip-board-statue and sign your name, we'll
Emily embarks on the dreary motions of cursive. Her loops become non-sensical rectangles- octagonal
wheels trying with slow success to find purchase on a newly paved road. She slumps
forward twice, each time cursing the drudgery of the fancy-pants alphabet, each time she is
helped and encouraged by the man-statue.
And you are Emily. You really must be an excellent pupil, one who
loves her studies. Don't mind if the students tease you, it is the teacher
who gives the grades.
Let me take off your slippers so you can get comfortable. You will be
wanting no concern for your body while you partake of this wonderful
programming. There! Now what you are about to see is a brand new
program, but I don't want you to think of it as a program. It is new,
super-cool new and.... extreme. Think of it as... A Statue! A statue of
a program. It was made so that we, you and I, could get an idea of what
the program would be like if it were made into a program, which it isn't
yet, but it will be after we decide what parts should be made into larger
statues and what parts of the statue should be chiseled away. You know
what a chisel is don't you?
Well sit back, and enjoy, because this is going to wow the pants off of
you and soon you will be floating on a cloud of pleasure well past the
Rodger sits and the television statue begins to hum. The program-
statue begins with the foot of an ivory pedestal, then rises- accompanying itself
with the tinkling music of a restaurant's worth of crystal glasses and spoons.
Emily yawns and watches the program-statue move up along the misty column
side of the pedestal and stop at the top.
There is a silver curtain and a podium. In front of the curtain are four people. They are
beautiful. They have short hair and glossy eyes. Their colorful cheeks each hold frozen
wonderous smiles. Their teeth are reassuring. They will not bite you. A figure behind the
podium is gesturing towards the four people. A figure behind the podium is presenting
them to the program-statue. A figure behind the podium is saying, 'Here are these four
hand-picked for you from more than four so you will like them.' A figure behind the
podium squats and is hidden behind the podium.
Rodger nudges Emily,
Right now, staff behind the curtain are inserting a singular purple ball
into the heads of each of the four contestants.
Notice how their faces remain unchanged. We got some awesome
contestants for the statuary edition of the show.
Emily's eyes are a pair of fish-tails, swishing about in corn syrup, pointing lazily in turn at Rodger's teeth
and the statue of a television.
Rodger licks his lips,
Ah! See there, spectacular, a genuine spectacle! Staff behind the
curtain have just inserted singular blue balls into the backs of each of
the contestants heads. Now watch the one one the left side of the
Emily, vaguely struggling to remember her left from her right, stares at the screen. The contestants stare
back at her, each seemingly unchanged and smiling.
See that! The one on the left is destroyed! Her face has faltered! A
tragedy! Look, she is about to weep like a little baby! Boo-boo baby, it'll
be better soon. Ha Ha!
Emily twitches her right hand as one of the contestants falls backwards through the curtain. The figure
pops up from behind the podium and gestures towards the blank spot where the contestant
had stood. The three remaining contestants continue to smile and the figure disappears.
Rodger rubs his hands together,
I wouldn't want to be those three right now. Ooooooh Baby! They're
about to experience the orange ball.
Rodger pauses, his still breath drawing Emily's attention,
Wowee! The orange ball had no effect. Truly some cool customers,
lets see how cool they are when they meet the wrath of the dreaded red
ball! Ho ho! That one's a goner for sure! Look at his eyes- that
terrible glint- he's doomed!
Emily sees the man's left eye twitch and then disappear as he is pulled through the curtain. The figure
raises its hands from behind the podium, and then they are gone.
Oooooh, one on one, the final two, the final ball. One of these two
will be your hero and the other, shortly forgotten. Which will it be?
WHICH WILL IT BE!?
Emily shakes Rodger's hand from her arm and speaks,
I'm sorry, I really can't handle the suspense, I must be going.
Emily crawls back through the hedges, she hears a far away laughter, ecstatic, from within a box.