Pick Carla (THE END)

I pointed to the quietly watching woman in the back of the audience, who hadn't even bothered standing up. Carla's eyes went wide with shock as I began to walk up the aisle, the soft sound of music beginning to play as I swept her up into my arms. She gleefully kicked her feet up, and I managed to hold her with only a little readjustment.

"So... you want to just go home?"" Carla suggested.

"Yeah... you know... this just really isn't my thing. I'd rather just go home."

"You know, there will be consequences," Carla whispered. "I don't know what will happen."

"So, if you want to open up that..." Monty began as Carla happily opened the case that I'd handed her, dropping the envelope onto the ground, without another thought, and merely cradling the apple happily.

She contemplated it for another moment, licking her thumb and polishing a small spot before dropping her feet to the ground, smiling, and directly chucking it at Monty, who failed to duck spectacularly and took it directly on the forehead.

The laughter of the audience was abruptly canceled when they realized that Monty had fallen backwards and was looking like he was in real pain.

"Uh... now... we... uh... what do we do now?"

Carla grabbed my hand and yanked urgently.

"Now... we run." She grinned, immediately taking off and dragging me towards the double doors which had already been blown through by a couple of costumed women that I recognized as...

"But what about the..." I glanced back at the glittering prizes still onstage.

"You want to stay, be my guest!" Carla grinned, pulling me along with only a moment of resistance. So much power there... so many things that would...

The first gunshot overhead silenced the thoughts and convinced me that running for the exit was the most proper idea.

"Why... why are they shooting at us?" I shouted, noting that Helen hand slammed the double doors we had exited through shut and was currently wedging closed with a small partition. The Owl costume still concealed most of her figure, but at least the head was off. The pantomime makeup and bulky garb just made the entire effect seem silly.

"Because everybody loses. Always. You can't win. If you refuse to play, which we just DID... the game's over." Carla explained hurriedly, as I glanced about the small building we seemed to be on. Was this a studio...? What the... ok, time to keep running.

There were several doors, and I was going to pick one randomly, when Nikki raced past smashing the door opposite open. She had tackled a random contestant who was dressed as a cowboy and who had apparently decided to try to be a hero and stop the band of renegade women. I took no notice of him as the doors behind us burst open and a throng of crazily costumed contestants and riot guards charged us, knocking down a portion of the thin stage partition as they carried us into the next room.

Some bizarre tune began to play as I took in the strange set we had busted into.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2isawYWBo0I

The Cowboy's stunned expression as he lay on the floor equally matched that of the throng of girls bowing down to a single male protagonist onstage in room, with random CGI screens popping up all around him as he sat there clicking his phone and pointing to people. The women were all incredibly gorgeous and dressed in garments that resembled cheerleader costumes, stripper outfits, and random monsters interspersed with a few hiding very prominent protrusions.

There was no time to think further on this as another psychotic contestant attacked me with a sign, causing me to grab at the nearest craft service table and use the nearby pie as a missile weapon.

Carla And Kaila immediately grabbed at other items since they were close at hand, and soon the air was filled with flying confectionery as another rack of nearby pastries rolled into view, causing random contestants to begin flinging the items haphazardly, causing the splatter of food to rain upon random passersby and contestants.

I was completely caught up in the moment, and was quite impressed by the aerodynamic performance of the Marionberry with whip topping as it splattered across the plexiglass face shield on one of the riot officers who seemed to be trying to figure out if he could legitimately open fire with a gun in response to a pie. He seemed to make up his mind after a second, but somehow was having difficulty working the weapon as it appeared to be jammed in some way.

"HOLD IT! HOLD IT! HOLD EVERYTHING!" A large man in a beret with a small director's viewfinder stomped up to the crowd and shouted. The entire pie and cake festooned ensemble turned to look at him, waiting for the words. "What are you DOING here? This is a PRIVATE Story!"

Joan tromped up to the flabby gentleman, and took in his elegant shirt, perfectly shaped diamond encrusted jewelry and state of the art, instant reality changing viewfinder.

"Piss on you... I'm workin' for brevdravis..." She grinned, before using the custard cream pie she was holding on the moron in front of her.

The general assembly flew into even more chaos, as the food began once again to fly, combined with sign whacking, people being thrown into the perfectly designed pool which spelled out the author's name in gold, and setting fire to random chaise lounges upon which were suspiciously shaped like certain villain's chairs in famous space operas.

I just tried to keep my grip on Carla's hand to the best of my ability, until I found myself, along with most of the rest of the crowd sprinting out of the studio, into the bright light of a warm California day. I couldn't help but notice the parking lot directly in front of us, and our faithful Turquoise Van sitting in plain view.

"So glad my sister insisted on getting the Scooby Van. I mean... Seats eight easily," Carla grinned.

"The..." My eyes roamed over the westfalia as we approached, and I used the towel that hung over my shoulders to wipe the vast majority of the sticky, sugary subtance off of me. It was... blech... It was everywhere. Note to self. Shower. As soon as possible. And preferably before we get near any wasps or bees. "I get the feeling this is the point where I shouldn't be asking any questions..."

"Yeah, probably not..." Kaila slapped my ass as she ran past, throwing open the driver's door and tearing off the huge peacock feathers which would have totally gotten in the way of her driving.

"Ok, so... we drive until... "

"We're at the ending, of course... should just be... here... here... pull in here... this should get us to the end." She gestured to a small drive in theater that lay off the road to the right with a Marquee reading "A Special Hell" and a small flashing light that read "Open"...

The man in armor approached me carefully, removing his helmet and holding it in one hand. He wasn't saying anything, but I knew he was thinking. Trying to figure out how to make this right, how to keep me appeased.

I looked down on the ship as the last of the provisions were loaded. Two hundred people. Just like that. Because of a stupid promise that he had made. And now... now he was going. I pulled the shawl about myself. The wind had picked up, and the soft flutters of the sail were causing impatience among the rowers. I didn't blame them. Far better to let Zéphyros have his fun and let the men fish or idle in sport than to tire on the long journey to the East.

"You don't... have to go, " I tried, one last time. I knew it wasn't going to work, but I had to do it anyway.

"Yes, I do. I promised," The redheaded man looked back at me. Damn he was cute, Loved that beard, those gorgeous blue eyes of his. I remembered how we had lain together in that bed so often... looking at the stars through the thin green olive leaves and laughing about how everybody thought he was in charge. Poor Man. Still didn't see how many people helped him, day after day. How many of his men were going to be falling to assure his glory and victory. Still thought it was his wit alone that achieved his great victories.

"I'm not going to wait for you," I said flatly. "I'm not going to just sit here and wait for you to get back. There are things that need doing."

"And they'll get done. You're good at that. This won't be long. Go ahead. Have a fling or two. I will." He smirked at me. "What happens on campaign, stays on campaign."

"I fucking KNOW you will," I bit my lip angrily. "And you won't check with me first, you'll just... do it. And expect me to deal with it. I... I'm angry with you right now. "

"Yeah. I'm angry too," He set his helmet on the ground, the bronze making a soft grinding noise as it scraped across the dry earth. "I'm angry I have to leave here, and everything I've built. But we don't GET to change what we have to do, Penny."

"It's always about you, isn't it? You've built, you've got to go... you've... They fucking threatened your SON! You're just going to go with them when they... I don't give a crap what you THINK you owe them, we need you HERE." I felt the tears welling. All of our best soldiers. Husbands. So many women who were going to never come home to... and so many provisions to be sent. Ships, money, people... fucking war.

"You'll keep him safe. I know you. Besides, you've got your girls," His hand was now on my arm. Dammit. He was flattering me. Telling me what I wanted to hear. "And I know they're listening right now. You've got your songs, your music... hell, maybe write me something special for when I get back."

"It's not going to be the same without you," I felt the first tear along my cheek. Shit. I didn't want to cry. I wasn't going to cry. "Will you write?"

"Can't. Agamemnon swore us to silence. Can't even tell you where we're going." He lied. Asshole. I already knew where they were going. At least four of the rowers had blabbed to their wives, who had blabbed to their friends, one of which who had spoken to one of the Erinyes, who had offered me the little tidbit in exchange for a polite thank you and secret sacrifice to their goddess.

"So... you aren't going to tell me about that whole thing with Ilios and the trade dispute. Don't blame you, trade disputes are pretty boring material. I'll check back when it gets interesting." I shrugged. That helped. The tears began to pull back. Nothing like reminding him I knew him as well as he knew me.

"You... I'm not going to even ask how you found out. Guess I'll have to talk to the men again," Odysseus looked back at the ship, and a sour look crossed his features. "Or will you tell me this time?"

"Maybe you should have asked one of my girls. You always wonder what I see in them." I smiled demurely.

"Hah. And have another thing you can hold over me? No, sweet wife, I am not going to fall into another one of your snares. " He laughed broadly, sitting on the small stone wall that marked the path that led from our home to the docks.

"Oh but I bait them so well," I suggested, "Those poor innocent maidens, never knowing a man's touch... Deception agrees with you, I must say. I do keep informed. I follow all your plots from a comfortable and discrete distance."

"And all I must do is put down my spear, have a drink, relax. Forget my worries a while. Live forever in the house of Penelope." He shrugged. "Father was right about you. You are much more dangerous than you seem. "

"Which one? You claim so many, after all. Am I talking to the Son of the great Argonaut, or the Son of the Punished Hero?" I taunted him again, reminding him that I knew what he was up to.

"You're talking to the man who just loves you. Can't that be enough?" He switched tactics, his eyes now on mine, searching for reaction. Got him.

"Nope. I want you to take your professed father with you. The one you keep saying is in charge when you're not here. I don't care what you do with him, put him on a farm or something, but I want him GONE. You leave, I'm in charge. It's only for a half year or so, right? Agamemnon is telling everybody that you're going to be greeted with flowers and wine. You know. At that mysterious place you're not going to."

"You... what are you going to do when people ask to see the man in charge?" Odysseus argued, "Uncle Larry's not a bad guy."

"Well, I'll say you're at war. If they don't accept that, I'll just say he... I don't know... that he died or something. It's not like they're going to check a corpse too closely if I bury it nicely enough." I shrugged. "I don't need to be cleaning up when he declares himself lord of misrule again."

"That was funny, you have to admit... You know, I hope I never die! I just want to do it to prove you wrong on this whole war."

"So do I. I want to be completely wrong about the war too."

"You think there's any chance of either?" He laughed broadly, and it felt nice to join in it for a moment.

We didn't end up making up. We didn't end up breaking up either. The argument hung there in my mind as I watched the lines cast off and the billow of the sail. It caught easily, as it always did in this bay. The wind off the mountains flowing across the ocean, lifting the heart and carrying him away from me again. The argument would keep, I guess. It didn't matter much. At least he took the jerk. There would be others of course. There were always jerks, but we'd deal with them. Stuck on an Island, but... there were ways to get away from time to time.

And my girls would always be here.

Credit Music

Or

Credit Music (If you prefer to wonder if this is a happy ending or not?)