Carbon Falls - Episode 1 - New Dark Comedy From @steeminganarchy
Before diving into episode one, I just want to mention that the general concept for this writing is from 
His post about the story idea:
@kennyskitchen/a-comedic-warning-against-agenda-21
Thank you Kenny!
And now....
Carbon Falls
Episode 1
Premise:
In the year 2099, due to many extreme events in the 21st century, earth’s population hovers around 1 billion. Big media outlets brag that carbon levels are at an all time low, and the ruling class is more full of themselves than ever before. They champion the arrival of the new, low carbon age. A new international holiday has been declared:
Sustainability Triumph Day
And on that day…...
Phil Ander is standing in a dark studio, wearing a gaudy, neon-green suit and a green planet earth baseball cap. He has a paper script in one hand, and a colorful cocktail in the other. He gulps the cocktail as he’s reading, then spits violently and drops the glass. A startled assistant turns and faces Ander nervously.
Startled Assistant: Sir? Are you ok?
Phil Ander: Are you sure this is the (hacks again and spits) speech I’m supposed to be making?
Assistant: I can double check to make sure it went through the proper verification channels if you’d like, sir.
Phil Ander (spiteful): No, that’ll take all day.
Assistant: It’s really only a few minutes….
Ander cuts assistant off.
Ander: Let’s just get this thing over. (glances admiringly at floating mirror next to him) I’m getting too old to lose precious minutes. (blows kiss to himself in the mirror)
Assistant cringes, bows, and back away.
Assistant: Ready to broadcast when you are, sir.
Phil Ander slams another cocktail.
Phil Ander: Ok, let’s do this.
Meanwhile, a low level Agenda 21 code enforcer named B.S. Green is in his technocracy-approved apartment/shipping container. While crunching his way through a reconstituted organic matter bar, he’s surprised to hear a knock on the shipping container. Such an archaic and crude method of communication could only be from one person, his mum.
B.S. Green (thinking to himself): I can’t remember the last time I had a visitor!
Green opens the rusty door at the front of the shipping container and finds his mum cheerfully awaiting his arrival.
Green: Mum, it’s been so long! I’d hug you but…
Mum interrupts: I know, you don’t have enough social distancing credits left. It’s ok.
Green: Yeah, I really got penalized for sharing that coffee with a coworker.
They step into the shipping container.
Green: How did you afford to come all the way across town to see me?
Mum: Oh, I’ve been saving up my transportation credits ever since they announced Sustainability Triumph Day. Happy STD, son!
Green: Happy STD to you, too, mum! You’re just in time! The festivities are about to start.
Back at the studio, Phil Ander’s assistant hits big red button on the wall and a boggling array of lights, whirring and humming micromachines, and other mini-gizmos go into action around Phil Ander. All across planet earth, one billion humans, each with their own DNA data links, are jolted into seeing and hearing Phil Ander, direct to the skull. Only it’s not Phil in the dark studio with a shattered cocktail glass at his feet. It’s Phil Ander in a psychologically-soothing environment, tailored to each individual human’s thoughts, emotions, preferences, and habits.
B.S. Green and his mum are suddenly jolted to attention at the incoming messages to their brains. It now seems to them that they’re in a huge crowd of happy, festive people, cheering the arrival of STD. Speaking over the crowd from on high, floating like a green angel, with a sardonic grin that would make The Joker jealous, is Phil Ander.
Phil Ander: Who’s ready to party!? (crowd cheers) What are we celebrating? (crowd collectively mumbles incoherently) I’ll tell you what! We’re here to celebrate a new age! A low carbon age! And it’s all thanks to you and your ancestors, who have made this day possible!
Crowd gets rowdier.
Ander: That’s right! The people that made it possible are those who, generations ago, took the Covid-19 shots and, coincidentally enough, became sterile! And all of you who don’t travel outside of your hometown, or take hot showers, or eat more than twice a day! And those who have died from the elements because they didn’t have adequate heating or cooling in their tiny excuses for homes! For those who cut their electricity usage by 90 percent! The dark occultists that use scientific techniques to manipulate all of us! The gang with fancy titles called government! The order-followers and rights violators in costumes that use violence and coercion to enforce this dark, anti-carbon, anti-life agenda! The climate change pseudo-scientists that have been paid liars for generations! And most of all, all of you following orders without thinking!
This message being broadcast into the skull of B.S. Green starts to give him thoughts and feelings that he is not accustomed to. He starts to shiver and twitch, wanting so badly to stop this message that doesn’t compute with his belief system and way of life. After all, he IS an extortion-funded Agenda 21 code enforcer…..
Meanwhile, somewhere in a high atmosphere flying mansion, a dark occultist named Bill “Richard” Mastergates, gasps, cringes, and slams a fist into a dinner table made of diamond dust.
Mastergates (screams): Ow! Damn that hurt! Damn these diamond dust tables!
A humanoid A.I. female named “Muertita” steps into the room: Are you ok, Mastergates?
Mastergates: I must’ve broken my hand again! (screams in agony) I’ll probably need the bone fuser tool later, but for now, I’ve got bigger problems. Get me Robin Zew from The Department of Dark Operational Propaganda for Environmental Regulation and Slavery immediately!
A hologram of a wide-eyed young female in a snazzy, sparkle-laden business suit shows up over Mastergates head. He cranes his neck upwards and starts yelling.
Mastergates: Zew! What the hell is the meaning of this speech?! Who approved that?! You can’t be that truthful to the tax slaves, you know that!
Robin Zew (fumbling papers and devices in her hands, scrambling around a huge, obelisk-filled government office): I didn’t approve it! I don’t know how that schmuck…
Mastergates interrupts: Which schmuck?
Robin Zew: Phil Ander! He’s gone off script, and I don’t know how or why!
Mastergates: What happened to all the failsafes?
Zew gets distracted look on face, stares off into middle distance for a moment, then puts her attention back on the call with Mastergates.
Zew: I just got word that the transmission has ended!
Mastergates: That’s great, but what about damage control?
Zew: With all due respect, most people won’t believe what they just heard, and even if they did entertain the idea for a bit, they’ll forget it by tomorrow. You know how most wage slaves are.
Mastergates: Of course they’ll believe it, because it’s on TV!
Zew: TV?
Mastergates: Ok, TV is dated technology, but the concept is the same. Beaming the same lies from a so-called authority figure into the brains of the masses simultaneously.
Their conversation is interrupted by Muertita.
Muertita: I’m sorry to disturb you, but there is something highly unusual happening outside the flying mansion.
Mastergates: Can’t you see I’m busy!
Muertita: There is an unrecognized visitor requesting to come aboard, so I just wanted to….
Mastergates interrupts: An unknown visitor at this altitude? That is strange. (to Robin Zew) We’ll finish this talk later! I want this cleaned up immediately!
Zew: When you say “cleaned up”, do you mean wiped from the minds of the tax slaves?
Mastergates: Damn you, Zew! Of course!
Click.
The image of Robin Zew disappears.
Mastergates: Now, this visitor, what do they want?
Muertita: Do you want to speak with him?
Mastergates: What’s his name? What does he want? My seven course dinner is getting cold!
Muertita: Unknown. Hold on, sir. He’s sending me a message through the mansion’s comm system…..
Mastergates huffs and stares anxiously at his mutton.
Muertita: Ok, he says he knows how Ander’s speech was changed.
Mastergates (incredulous): OH, he does, does he? And how does he know that?
Muertita: Because he claims to have done it himself.
Mastergates (confused, pouty face): Hmmmm…..very well. Let’s welcome him aboard. Prepare docking procedure.
Muertita: He says that a docking procedure isn’t necessary.
Mastergates: That’s impossible! Looks like we’ve got a compulsive liar or a psychopath on our hands.
A young, strong, human male with bright, calm eyes appears standing at the head of the dinner table, opposite Bill Richard Mastergates.
Visitor: That’s a pretty ironic statement, coming from a compulsive liar and a psychopath like yourself. Nice place. (sarcastic) Super low-carbon, I bet.
Mastergates scowls.
Muertita: Shall I leave, sir?
Mastergates: Immediately. (turns to the visitor) And who might you be? Are you human?
Visitor: Are you?
Mastergates: I’ll be the one asking the questions.
Visitor: I prefer to be called Rayza. I’m here because of the carbon problem.
Mastergates: Carbon is the lowest it’s been in centuries!
Rayza: Exactly. That’s a colossal problem, so let’s talk.
To be continued...
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