AW Flash Fiction — Gold — 8/15/10

Not all that inspired but only required a third of the allotted 90 minutes to complete. Don’t worry if you get lost in who’s saying what. The speakers are basically interchangeable so I didn’t care so much about dialogue tags.
************

“This oughta be good. Guy’s three seconds ahead of world record pace with only another hundred feet to go when he loses control, skis off course and into a tree. Died on impact. This was just a practice run for his race tomorrow.”

“Oooh, so close.”

“Yeah, he’d have had the world record today and most likely the gold medal tomorrow. Still, he’ll be ripe for negotiation.”

“Ya think? Sometimes they aren’t though. They shrug and say ‘win some, lose some’.”

“Not this guy. He’d never won a gold. He won bronze four years ago because he got a bad draw for the skiing order, was disqualified for missing a gate eight years ago when he was the favorite. This was his last shot. He’ll deal.”

“Hey what happened with that writer who was hit by the taxi after she sent in her final edits for her debut novel?”

“I gather you’ve been living under a rock lately. She bit. Sold that book and three additional ones. They’re all being made into movies and the stars of the film became instant media sensations.”

“No kidding? Wow. I hope we went for the soul.”

“Oh yeah, we got it all.”

“Which deal did she take? Popular or critical acclaim?”

“You don’t pay attention very well, do you?”

“Uh…okay yeah, I guess popular acclaim and cash, eh?”

“Of course. We got full soul rights, first editorial rights over any and all subsequent works–”

“Did that include the sequels?”

“Nah, she already had those penned. We got the ones after that series. We also got the Rosemary’s baby clause–”

“Wow, she was really anxious for a deal.”

“Mmm hmm, my favorite kind which is why this guy coming up will be such a delicious deal to handle. I can hardly wait. I like ’em big, strong and stupid with rugged good looks. They go for the full package ninety-nine times out of a hundred.”

“Sounds like he could be another Spitz.”

“Maybe. That one was textbook cause nobody even knew the guy drowned in his own bathtub the day before the opening ceremonies. The athletes really are the gold standard for negotiating the best deals for the big guy.”

“I dunno, the writers are a pretty desperate bunch too.”

“Yes, as are the rising actors and actresses but not like the athletes.”

“True dat. Some of them actors are just as happy to have their fifteen minutes of fame after they’re dead.”

“Exactly. Ah, here he comes now. Good evening, Sir. Welcome to Purgatory. Please have a seat. I’m Penemuel and this is my colleague, Vassago. Now I can see you’re confused and perhaps a little frightened, but there is no need because we are here to be your guides, to assist you in your choices for the hereafter. You’re in luck today, Mr. Jacobelli, because we don’t often get Olympic gold medalist contenders so close to victory. Now we don’t have a lot of time but I think we’ll quickly find a deal that suits you perfectly….”

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