Episode 12: Death, Sex, and Milwaulkee (Part 1)

We sat quietly around Digital Creek’s boardroom in Nutley, NJ, as Eminem droned on the radio. Peet quietly mouthed the words, Del kept his head down over his drawing. Frankie drummed his fingers on the table. The incessant clacking of the keys on Josh’s laptop continued over the beat, and Nichole bopped out a little dance. Clay was asleep and my stomach was still in a knot.

11:57.

He’d be here any minute.

The room was still scattered with proofs, original artwork, and snippets of text from UnderWorld. Gareth had left a few hours ago, all the way back to Basking Ridge, NJ, where he had been living ever since his house was flooded.

Shudder.

11:58.

Frankie looked up.

"Who are we waiting for, again?"

"You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you."

"Nerd nerd nerd nerd nerd nerd nerd." Mumbled Peet. "It’s probably some game guy none of us have ever heard of, and Sean’s gettin’ his nerd on. " Guys , guys! It’s the designer of the twelve-sided polyhedral wand of unintentional celibacy! He’s coming to talk to US!"

I could be watching Cartoon Network now. You owe me, Jewboy."

"Trust me, Mayor Mick-Peet, This is someone you’ll recognize."

The door opened. And my heart jumped. If this actually happened, then I clearly was not insane. I had to sit down as my legs gave.

A wet, disheveled men walked into the board room, shaking off the storm outside. His light blonde hair reached to the small of his back, and he bore glasses and a worn sportjacket over his "Trash and Vaudeville" T-shirt. He was more broad-shouldered than me, but still had a slight build and small hands. There was a gun under his coat and a grin on his lips, both of which he flashed absentmindedly.

"I can’t believe I’m in Jersey." He said, placing a huge stack of papers on the table.

Nichole looked up and the gum fell from her mouth. She tapped Delmar , who shook her away at first, but then looked up, riveted. Peet’s Jaw dropped, and Frankie nudged Clayton, who remained asleep. Josh stopped typing and slowly closed the computer.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Synister Creative Systems... Meet Nicholas Van Zandt. Jackyler."

"You’re kidding. This isn’t real." Said Josh.

"Karmic of the Underground, and Keeper of the Gospels of the most Holy Apostate. Lorekeeper of Ahura Mazda." Said Nick.

"Buh." Nichole uttered.

"That’s the guy you asked me to draw, right?" Said Del. "You didn’t tell me he was a real guy."

"I... didn’t know at the time, Del." I murmured.

Nick crossed straight to one of the proofs and picked it up.

"UnderWorld, hunh? Awesome!"

He picked it up and started flipping through it.

"Wait a minute." Josh stood up. "You mean to tell me a guy we thought up until now was totally fiction turns out to be real....AND he’s a goob?"

Nick thwacked him on the noggin with the rolled-up proof.

"I was protecting you guys, you know."

"From what?"

"From this." He said, sliding the stack of papers across the table.

I picked up the stack as the others attacked Nick, demanding to see his drivers license, Karmic of The Underground Tattoo, and Edentech gadgets, all of which he quietly produced to even more gasps and raised eyebrows. I flipped through the notes, sketches, photographs, and hastily-scrawled reports. It was all here.

Nick looked at me over the UnderWorld print proof.

"What’s with second character sheet?"

I was looking into the eyes of the- sorry, A- Son of God, and Lord help me, he was a Goob. Just like us.

"Josh put that in."

"Yeah, I though it might be cool to have a Tagger sheet, and a subway sheet...

Something clicked in Josh’s head.

"Do you know Dexter Tenchi?"

"Met him a couple times through Hobie Killian."

"Hobie Killian? My...character? My character is real?"

"Sure. Asked to come by, but he’s in Seattle right now on business. He wanted to meet you."

A new flurry of questions began as everyone jumped on Nick in the hopes of learning about their characters, all of which, of course, actually existed. I had to cut it short.

"Guys...Guys!"

It got quiet. Nick was grinning like a loon, clearly enjoying the attention.

I tapped the papers.

"This stack of paper is the culmination of all of Nick’s work. We have here all the information we need to create The Last Exodus as an RPG. We need to get on the ball. You guys did an amazing job on UnderWorld, so let’s put that experience to good use here with The Last Exodus. Remember, we cant’ tell a soul about ...-"

"About what?" Asked Nick, sitting down in one of the swivel chairs next to Nichole. She smiled at him and he threw his trademark snicker right back. I could hear the girl’s heart pounding from where I was standing...an added complication.

"About...this! About the fact that you’re here, and all of you guys are real!"

"Why? You’re about to release a game about us. Plausible deniability, Sean."

"What do you mean ?"Asked Delmar.

"I mean that no one will believe any of you if you talk about us anyway.

Tell people whatever you want...hell, write about this whole experience in your column. Everyone will assume it’s just teaser fiction."

"Umm..."

"Think about it... You guys claim to have met the actual characters and events in The Last Exodus? You write it like a non-fiction report with a rules system? No one will believe it’s REAL, but they’ll taste the POSSIBILITY of it’s reality. Remember White Wolf in the mid-nineties? Who didn’t mess with the possibility, at least once, that the Vampires put out the games themselves to cover their own ass? Or Cyberpunk before that? Wasn’t that supposed to be a transmission into the past to prepare people for the future? Presenting fiction as fact is nothing new, and in this case we present fact as fiction pretending to be fact."

"Real or not, me and this guy are gonna be fightin’ if he keeps talking like that," growled Peet. "He’s giving me headache."

"No, I get it. I understand." I rubbed my hands together. " All he’s saying is that we can talk about this stuff freely, because no one will believe us."

"I don’t believe us, and I’m right here." Frank muttered.

"Wha..?"

"Go back to sleep, Clayton."

"Yup." His head returned to the table.

I picked up the sheaf of information. Incredible.

"Well, this half of what you asked for, so I’ll be going now..." said Nick.

"Wait! Half?" I picked it up.

"Half. I’ll get you the rest soon. You guys have a good Gen Con. UnderWorld looks great...mind if I grab a copy? "

"Waddaya mean, half? "

"Gotta go!"

With that, Nick disappeared around a corner. Literally. The others searched the entire office, the parking lot, not a sign of him.

I looked at the sheaf of papers as they scrambled and hunted.

"Jesus Christ. Jesus H. Christ. Call off the search."

The others stopped. I held up the papers.

"Magnum Opus. The Sacred Rites of the Underground. No doubt this work is Nick’s Magnum Opus. We just watched him cross over to Eden. "

We all shared a good shiver and got very quiet. A single slip of paper- a napkin, by the look of it, dropped from the pile I was holding. It read:

"Dear Synister Creative Systems:

This is all about Messiahs and Ahura Mazda. Will get you info on Antichrists and GODHEAD soon. After that, watch your damned backs. They WILL come after you.

Thanks again- Nick"

I read the note slowly and quietly to my friends and co-workers, who didn’t talk much for the rest of the night.