Wisconsin Hells: Local Tee-Vee

The longest of the three seasonal Wisconsin Hells flash-fics, and in my opinion the funniest. Borne from a conversation I had with Lily while recovering from a concussion and written entirely while concussed. The fact this one turned out better than the others implies something unfavorable about the quality of my work, I'm sure.
        I am still working hard on an actual long-form Wisconsin Hells story and want this to be the final vignette for now. Expect full scenes and a plot with an actual resolution next time. Also more characters. I feel a need to limit the cast to the main four in these short-form bits because they all collectively total less than 3,000 words. If I were to add even one of the side characters to the mix it would dilute the still very new characters of Satan, Charlie, Abby and Todd. Speaking of whom, I really love how the interaction between Todd and Charlie went in this one. I gotta pair them together more often in the future.

    “It’s that time’a year again Steve.” Charlie grinned. “Spring break. The first profitable week of the year.”

            “Potentially.” Satan said. “You’ll remember we looked at the sales figures together during that boredom epidemic in January.”

          “Yep.” Charlie gulped. “Spring break just ain’t about families anymore. It’s about college kids gettin’ drunk on waterslides.”

“Families still show up, surely.” Satan offered. “They still have the time off.”
“And with drunkards at the waterparks, they’ll be lookin’ for alternative options!” Charlie leapt from his seat. “We gotta draw ‘em in! Let’s do a commercial! Heck, I haven’t had a commercial since the eighties! Let’s do a commercial, Steve!”

“Do we own a camera?” Satan asked.

Charlie sighed and slumped over in his chair. “No.”

Satan offered, “Abby makes videos in its free time. Maybe I can get it to help us out.”

Charlie hardly knew Abby. He was curious about any person who would willingly be described as “it”, and specifically curious how any such person ever wound up working anywhere but a hole-in-the-wall curiosity museum. He said, “Sounds great to me! As long as it’s not plannin’ to shoot the thing on a telephone.”

“Anything big goin’ on this weekend?” Todd, half-awake at the register, asked Abby. ‘Weekend” being a colloquialism for the two weekdays the store was closed. The actual weekend was the only time they were ever in the green.

“Yeah, actually. Steve asked me to help his boss with an ad for local TV.” Abby smiled. It tried not to mention any of its Googleable hobbies at work, but a commercial job like this was surely an exception.

“Loocal tee-vee.” Todd chuckled. The little bit of California left in his accent snuck out. “Worst mistake a girl can make.”

“It’s not like I have any say in this project. I'm just helping a friend.”

“If you wanna help him, tell him not to put his ad on local TV. Anything else is better.”

“He's an old-fashioned guy, TV is where he thinks the action is. Or maybe he just wants to see himself on the silver screen. I don't see the harm in letting an old man have fun.”

“Local TV is all commies, old fogies and guys who’re, ah…” he spun a finger around his temple as he searched his head for a work-appropriate term. “let's call ‘em special.” Abaddon wasn't quite sure how to respond.

Oh, thank Hell, Satan's here. Uncle Chuck in tow, all seven feet of him squeezed into a tight Hawaiian shirt. His getup and Abby's looked like they were competing over how many shades of green, yellow and pink one outfit could contain. The phrase “visual noise” came to mind, and the noise in question was early PC speaker music.

Todd's lip quivered a little when he saw Charlie. The guy actually had to duck to fit in this place. For once Todd wasn't the biggest man in this neck of the outlet mall. He let his salesman instincts take over. “Hel-low, gentlemen. You sure look like a couple discerning fellas, so let me cut to the chase: we got an ex-clusive sale on for these bad boys right behind me. Au-thentic, collector’s-grade, combat-capable replications of the very famous sword from hit animated television series-” he checked the little cardboard tag affixed to the hilt - “Second Piece Balls Dragon”.

“Hey Abby” Satan waved. Todd was always bemused seeing them side by side. He didn't know if they were a thing, he just knew that decent-looking woman dressed in every goddamn color the human eye could see looked weird next to a balding sadsack shaped like an alcoholic stickbug. Abby could do better, surely.

“I'll be right with you guys, my shift ends in fifteen.”

“I'm sure we can find some way to amuse ourselves.” Satan said.

Charlie leaned over Todd's desk, sending him shriveling up against his chair. “Were you the one Steve was tellin’ me about, with that crazy theory about Santa Claus?”

“I am.” Todd bowed. “But it makes perfect sense.”

“Do I look like the peanut gallery to you?” Charlie laughed. “No, I’m coming to you with a proposal!”

“Think Santa’s already tied the knot.” Todd shrugged.

“No, no, I’m talkin’ business.” Charlie said. “I couldn’t come up with a great Christmas exhibition last year. Wound up doing an outdoor walk-around thing about the history of Santa, an’ all his regional variations. It was popular, don’t get me wrong, but I hardly made my money back what with the thirteen inflatable Yule Lads.”

“Is that what those were? Thought they were the Seven Dwarves. Guess I probably shoulda counted.” Todd grumbled.

“Sure thing. I got ‘em made custom. Cost an arm and a leg, so I wanted to do somethin’ cheaper next Christmas. How ‘bout we talk about turning your whole flat-Earth Santa thing into a spinning thing? Could do it with a power drill and some plywood.” He extended a hand. Todd shook it.

If you were one of the two or three people tuning into local access TV you would've seen an ad beginning with nature footage shot in the oft-forgotten Dells part of Wisconsin Dells. Text appeared on screen, narrated by an overenthusiastic Charlie: The wonders of nature abound in Wisconsin Dells. The scene shifts to a dark and mysterious woodland. Text, and Charlie, continues: But what of the mysteries of nature? Have they gone to pasture? A shot of Satan in a propeller cap playing with toy trains. Charlie is screaming at this point: HAVE YOU EVER ASKED WHAT HAPPENED TO THE MAGICAL, MYSTERIOUS WORLD YOU REMEMBER FROM BOYHOOD?

Charlie is standing in front of the Abattoir now. The sign doesn’t fit in the frame and Charlie’s head is blocking most of STRAL ATTOIR anyhow. He continues: Wonder no more! Here at the Astral Abattoir we specialize in all things wondrous.

The view shifts to an interior shot, Charlie behind the desk. Satan steps into shot and asks, “such as?” The camera lingers on Charlie's silent visage as his mouth cracks into the kind of grin that says, “please pay no attention to my busted canines”. It zooms out to reveal a taxidermied bipedal alligator-iguana and some kind of mangled beaver skeleton. Charlie says: Such as the last living dinosaur, and irrefutable proof that the Hodag once roamed these woods! We have a fur-bearing trout around here, too. Dang it, where'd I put that- There's an awkward cut here - And, for a limited time only…

Satan steps off-screen and returns wheeling a blobby green thing the size of his torso. Charlie: Something we found on Mars! What is it? God only knows! An astute viewer might catch a hell of a side-eye from Satan here. The camera cuts away before it becomes obvious and Charlie is standing in front of a whiteboard for a final shot. And come check out my new weekly lectures. Next week: “Eschatology and Crypto-Scatology”. One day only! All this and more down at the- an affordable but decent-sounding local singer provides an “Astral Abattoir” jingle.

Halfway through the jingle it cuts to an awkward shot of the building from across the street. In large text, the name and address, plus Uncle Chuck’s personal AOL address. Below that, some fine print narrated in an awkward mumble by Satan. “We are not an actual abattoir. The only meat we sell is authentic Bigfoot Jerky. If you’re looking for meat, our entire staff recommends the meat market on Munroe. Except for Bob, who’s a vegetarian, and Steve, who’s never been there. Only Charlie recommends the meat market.”