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Mundementia One: Yet another word from our sponsors...
 
by J.(Channing)Wells

 

* * *

::?Shartooie TiaraNet Dataflux -INTERRUPT
RE: MANDATORY ADVERTISING SPACE

?Shartooie Dataflux Sysadmin writes:
//Message (Mun1: The Book of Going Forth (*/*) REM:
Epilogue of Second Book) Mandatory Paid Advertisement//

The Epilogue of _Mundementia One, Book Two: The Book of Going Forth_ is brought to you by:

Breem. Do _you_ have enough?

* * *

(Large, no-nonsense letters, white on black. As each phrase appears, there is a dark sound, like the closing of a large iron door inexplicably located at the bottom of an empty swimming pool.)

BAD CREDIT? (thoom.)

NO CREDIT? (thoom.)

ANTS? (thoom.)

(Large, friendly letters, in italics.)

_No Problem!_ (and there comes a celestial noise.)

* * *

(The scene fades to the image of an attractive, thin, slightly horse-faced middle-aged woman with short red hair.)

WOMAN: After the divorce, things were tough for a while.

(As her voice continues in VO, the scene is intercut with an image of the same woman, in blue-filter, one hand on her forehead, the other holding an envelope. She shakes her head sadly.)

WOMAN: Every day, it was another notice.

(The phone rings, and she jumps, then looks over at it, rubbing at her hand as though it's causing her discomfort.)

WOMAN: It got so I couldn't even answer the phone.

(A voice floats over the scene, presumably from the screening speakers on her answering machine.

THREATENING VOICE: Ms. Yunker, this is Mark from Consolidated again, if you could please give me a call at your earliest--)

(Cut back to the full color version of the woman)

WOMAN: And with the holidays coming up? It felt like I was... trapped.

(Back to the blue-filtered woman, who stomps at something on the floor with a disgusted expression, then collapses into a worn recliner, head in hands.)

WOMAN (VO): And the small, biting ants! Ugh!

(Back to the full-color version)

WOMAN: And that's when a friend recommended Breem (tm). Just minutes after I called for their "Get 'Choself Together" plan, I had a Breem Card of my very own!

(Another intercut scene, this one in sunny yellow tones. In it, Ms. Yunker answers the door to be greeted by a man in a large, heavy white suit with a full mask; it looks something like a beekeper's outfit. The strange man hands her a plain rectangle of white plastic, using tongs.)

WOMAN (VO): My own card! With my name on it! As opposed to someone else's name! Delivered right to my door!

(Yellow tones, still. The woman admires her card, tilting it back and forth for a while and letting the light play across it before before sliding it into a tiny picture frame and stuffing it confidently into her purse. She is all smiles.)

WOMAN (increasingly psychotic): IT WAS MINE, I TELL YOU! MINE!!!

(Cut to the woman standing atop a high cliff in some rugged natural environment, throwing a great handful of shredded paper out to the winds. Then back to the full-color scene.)

WOMAN: Now I never have to go anywhere wondering if I have enough Breem in my purse! It's like having all the power of Breem... in a card!

(Cut to an animated scene of multitudinous objects falling from unseen clouds like snow: dollar signs, small biting ants, baseballs, socket wrenches.)

OFFICIAL VOICE: Do you have problems? Breem can help. Your application is completely confidential, and you can apply over the phone. Call now: 1-800-BREEM-4-I.

(The number appears over the falling objects in large, no-nonsense characters.)

OV: That's One, Eight hundred, Breem, the Number four, I.

(Camera fade to the image of a white can and a rectangular white box, both emblazoned with the word "BREEM" in no-nonsense black letters. Then, a hand reaches into the scene and leans a small white plastic card, similarly adorned, against the other two objects.

OV: Breem. Do it today. Your life is waiting.

(Cut back to the smiling woman.)

WOMAN: It's a good feeling.

(Still smiling, she slaps at a spot on her arm. Then she guffaws luxuriantly, showing teeth, as she tosses a baseball up in the air in playful triumph. Blackout.)


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