Room 405, Saturday Morning
Jeffy Maroe, the Gremlins' star running back, lay in bed, cutting to a flashback remembering.
He remembered catching the football, running for a touchdown, kicking a field goal, throwing the football, tackling the quarterback, dancing in the end zone, and all of the other things running backs did, which he was the best at. (And if the stadium those memories happened in looked WAY too big to belong to a high school, shhhh. It's stock footage.)
And then he remembered That Night, two weeks ago, the night when he'd thrown the football for more rushing yardages than any other running back in the history of high school football. The whole team had driven to a party at someone's house to celebrate, and there was drinking, and drugs, and sex -- good times. In the middle of the night (which you could tell it was, because even though the light was bright, it was tinted blue), a number of them had all woken up and decided to go swimming. They rode their bikes (which were somehow all at the one friend's house) to the old quarry, where there was more drinking, and drugs, and sex, only this time in the water. And then the music memory turned tragic -- he remembered swinging on the rope swing, and his hands slipping, and then a view of him, on his back, artfully splayed over a large rock sticking out of the water.
Which brought him back to the present. With the practiced grace of someone who'd done this two or three times before the cameras started rolling, he used his hands to lift his legs, one after the other, and swing them over the edge of the bed. He then maneuvered himself over into his wheelchair (which hadn't been there a moment ago) and tucked a blanket around his legs. Just in case the audience hadn't followed the flashback, he punched his leg angrily. "WHY! WON'T! YOU FEEL?!" he cried. "FEEEEEEL, damn you!!!" He hung his head in his hands and sobbed. "Oh, I'm so broken!"
[Open!]
He remembered catching the football, running for a touchdown, kicking a field goal, throwing the football, tackling the quarterback, dancing in the end zone, and all of the other things running backs did, which he was the best at. (And if the stadium those memories happened in looked WAY too big to belong to a high school, shhhh. It's stock footage.)
And then he remembered That Night, two weeks ago, the night when he'd thrown the football for more rushing yardages than any other running back in the history of high school football. The whole team had driven to a party at someone's house to celebrate, and there was drinking, and drugs, and sex -- good times. In the middle of the night (which you could tell it was, because even though the light was bright, it was tinted blue), a number of them had all woken up and decided to go swimming. They rode their bikes (which were somehow all at the one friend's house) to the old quarry, where there was more drinking, and drugs, and sex, only this time in the water. And then the music memory turned tragic -- he remembered swinging on the rope swing, and his hands slipping, and then a view of him, on his back, artfully splayed over a large rock sticking out of the water.
Which brought him back to the present. With the practiced grace of someone who'd done this two or three times before the cameras started rolling, he used his hands to lift his legs, one after the other, and swing them over the edge of the bed. He then maneuvered himself over into his wheelchair (which hadn't been there a moment ago) and tucked a blanket around his legs. Just in case the audience hadn't followed the flashback, he punched his leg angrily. "WHY! WON'T! YOU FEEL?!" he cried. "FEEEEEEL, damn you!!!" He hung his head in his hands and sobbed. "Oh, I'm so broken!"
[Open!]