The Price He Paid Essay, Research Paper
?Yea, we thought the diversity would be good for the movie,? the producer said this casually while lighting a cigarette.
?Sure, the diversity is good, but where is the setting supposed to be,? said the executive producer quizzically.
?The old style buildings are supposed to be German. The skyscrapers are for the f-16 and car chase scenes in New York,? he muttered getting increasingly bored with the conversation.
?Do you think I?ll be able to ride in one of the planes,? his eyes beginning to bulge out of his skull.
?We?ll see. Listen, um, Hale right?? He asked this as if he were almost disgusted to say the name.
?Yea, it?s Hale,? he said.
?I need to go talk to Bob, the director, about how he wants to setup. Good to meet you,? he tried to squeeze out a smile when he said those final few words.
?Yea, you to Phil. I can?t wait to work on this more with you,? Hale said with the greatest enthusiasm.
Phil scurried off to his Ferrari and the car screeched in fury as he tore off down Main Street. Hale just stood, frozen in his place, watching the Ferrari fly away. If, Phil, had ever looked in his rearview mirror he would have seen a face of fear and shock. Hale saw what looked like a salamander walking on Phil?s trunk, while not caring it was on fire. Its eyes glistened and left an empty feeling in Hale?s stomach when it stared at him. All thoughts about being an executive producer in a movie for the first time, had left him. He was now terrified, for the safety of who, he thought, was his new best friend.
Phil, of course, had blatantly lied to his executive producer. Phil had already discussed the screenplay with Bob early that morning, and now was driving downtown to meet a friend of his at Hell?s Heaven. On his way there he had briefly thought to himself how anyone so repetitively obnoxious could have been hired for the job. The kid was fresh out of film school and, in Phil?s view, was extremely under-qualified for the job. He left it at that and decided he had to find a way to solve his problem, unless he otherwise wanted to face an untimely demise.
Once he got to Hell?s Heaven he noticed a monstrous crowd surrounding the 10-story building. The crowd seemed to consume the entire building. Phil pushed his way through the crow, receiving a couple angry glares, and got to a point where he could see what was going on. In the booth where he usually sat to do business, was now a pitch black hole, which at one point had been inflamed with a fire that only had burned his booth, and nothing else. Oddly attached to part of the remains of a hanging lamp, was a note. It read:
Philip Darshy Mortenhugh,
You know what we said and we will not give you anymore time.
You have 13 hours left and personally we hope you fail, thus you can face the consequences and be ours for eternity.
Beware,
Hak32
Phil stood immensely still, the note did not surprise him, but he didn?t like the intrusive reminder or his deadline. All eyes were now on him. He slowly looked around and then turned to walk out. A hand rested on his shoulder.
?You better take your business elsewhere from now on Phil.? A big burly man said solemnly. Phil nodded his head in agreement and slowly walked out. This time, out of pity, the once angry mob made a path for Phil to pass through. Phil was almost to his car, when he saw the marks Hale had mentioned. His car had been branded with a symbol surrounded by scorched paint. Phil felt sicker than he had known humanly possible. The symbol told him he was going to fail, and they knew it. He say slumped down to the ground with his back to the car and his face in his hands weeping.
Four hours later, it was 6:00 a.m., Phil was still awake, and he had not even attempted sleeping. He had taken a bus home the night before and had drunken straight Vodka until his worries were almost out of his mind. He had almost fallen asleep at one point, but was abruptly stirred by what the television was displaying. It showed, Phil, being poked by strangers wearing pure black robes and hoods. Even though Phil could not see their faces, he knew they were grinning to their selves, awaiting that final thirteenth hour. Glaring red eyes, soar throat, and aching muscles, Phil was in no mood to do anything. He had run out of ideas and was quickly running out of time.
The phone rang rather loudly. Phil stared at it. Five rings, eight, fifteen, it seemed as if it would never stop. And it didn?t. Thirty rings. Phil feared that is was from his death consultants. It stopped. For a brief moment his heart did too.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
A rapping at his front door, a one second delay and then Phil almost had a heart attack.
BANG! BANG! FWUMP!
The door flew open! Phil leapt from his seat and curled into a ball under the table.
?They?re early,? he thought.
?I still have nine hours till time is up.? Phil was right; he did still have nine hours until his unfortunate demise.
In, through the door, came Hale and Bob. Hale ran over to the petrified with fear, Phil. He put a hand on Phil and Phil shuttered.
?Phil,? he whispered.
?Phil!? Hale started to become excitedly worried.
Phil slowly looked up from under the table.
?H-H-Hale,? he sputtered silently.
?Yea, it?s only me,? Hale said reassuringly.
With a sigh of relief Phil asked, ?what?s going on? Why did you kick-in my door??
?Well, I was worried about you since you left yesterday. I, uh, saw a burning salamander walking on the bank of your Ferrari,? said Hale hesitantly.
?I know about the salamander. If left its mark on my car,? said Phil knowingly.
?Also the entire movie set was torched last night,? added Bob.
?What? Wait. What?? exclaimed Phil.
?It?s true. We don?t know what happened. The whole set is ash.?
?Holy cow!?
?This is all my fault. I never should have??Phil was stopped short by a brick that had flown through his window knocking him unconscious.
?My God! This is crazy,? yelled Hale.
?Phil wake up.?
?Wake up Phil.?
Phil never did wake up. Before he had time to regain consciousness his thirteen hours were up and he had failed to fulfill his mission.