Janelle Bump of the National Enquirer squealed as the hood came off her head to be confronted with a giant lizard gazing at her. Her squeal turned into a scream as she convulsed and tried to escape but she was bound tight. The reptile stared at her with its cold black eyes and licked the air with its tongue. Janelle screamed, and it clamped a hand across her mouth.
“You will be silent mammal!” it rasped as its rotten breath washed over her face. Janelle hyperventilated herself quiet between the scaly fingers, slowly gaining her composure. The lizard unclamped its hand and stepped back. “Good monkey.”
“Hello, Ms Bump,” said a voice from the back of the darkened room, Janelle squinted to see a man walk into view. “My name is Erwin.”
“H-hello,” Janelle stammered.
“Please don’t be scared, we are here to educate you.” Erwin smiled as he pulled up a chair and sat in front of her. “Now you are a reporter, yes?”
“Good. I am a representative of…” Erwin paused as he looked her up and down. “I suspect we should untie you. Now if we do, and you attempt to escape, you will be eaten. Do we have an understanding?”
“Y-yes,” Janelle gulped. Erwin nodded, and the reptilian creature moved closer, unfixed her bonds and stood behind her. Erwin handed her a notepad and pen that he pulled from a black bag.
“If you are ready, Ms Bump, then I shall tell you all about all about the Lizard People who I represent, why we are here, and what we hope to achieve.”
Gupta Zardari kicked the door to the padded cell again. It did nothing, but it was easier than smacking his head against it. “I am a qualified lawyer AND an American citizen! This is wrong on every level!”
“I don’t know what to do,” Mark said as he paced around the kitchen. “I think I killed that super bitch with the fire eyes. I punched her head into the ground!”
“MARK!” his mother Diana cried in shock and dismay.
“It’s okay, son,” his father Barry stopped him from pacing.
“HOW dad? How is it okay?” Mark shouted. “The world thinks I’m Jesus! I held up a building with my bare hands! Two lesbians say I attacked them, I jumped out of a twenty-storey building and didn’t even mess my &^^$#g hair! I stole a police car and I just beat a woman to death! It’s far from okay! It’s really &^%$*g far from okay!”
Barry looked at his son, sighed and just held him. “It’s *&^&$d on a level I can barely imagine.”
Mark burst into tears. Amber rolled her eyes and returned to scrolling through her phone.
141 Boulevard Mortier, Paris, France
Isabelle Cheval stood relaxed, but ready in the office of the General Directorate for External Security. Her khaki-camo flight suit was crisp, her red beret pristine, combat boots gleaming. The door behind her opened and in strode Acting Director Henri Grenouille.
“Bonjour Mademoiselle Cheval,” He said as he sat at his desk. “Savez-vous pourquoi vous êtes ici?”
“Oui. L'acteur américain Mark Metcalf.”
“Il est comme toi. Un avec des capacités spéciales.” Henri lit up a cigarette then offered her one, which she declined. “Vous serez temporairement réaffecté de la protection présidentielle jusqu'à ce qu'il soit amené ici pour le confinement et l'étude.”
“Est-ce sage, monsieur? Me prendre au dépourvu de notre président ne fait que le mettre en danger. Pourquoi ne pas laisser les Américains régler leurs propres problèmes?” Isabelle asked.
“Nous vous croyions le seul, Isabelle. Une créature unique capable de faire les choses qui conviendraient mieux dans un film de Luc Besson! Ton service en France est inestimable mais si ce garçon est vraiment spécial comme toi, alors il ferait mieux de travailler pour nous.” Henri ground the cigarette out into a gold ashtray in the shape of a seashell. “Vous monterez à bord d'un Concorde spécial avec le groupe de rock Les Centaures du Jardin Noir en tant qu'assistant de production. Vous localiserez Mark Metcalf aux Etats-Unis et vous le capturerez et le préparerez pour le transport ici.”
“Oui monsieur.” Isabelle snapped into a salute. “Je capture Mark Metcalf, pour la France.”
Carla White sat up in the morgue, shredding the black bodybag covering her.
“At ease, Apollo,” said a familiar voice from a loudspeaker in the centre of the room.
“Where is Metcalf?” She angrily asked as she approached the loudspeaker. “Where is that bastard?!”
“You failed your mission, Apollo.”
Carla grimaced, her eyes flaring up. “I’ve healed! I’m ready to redeploy…”
“You need to liste…”
“THAT IS AN ORDER APOLLO! YOU WILL ABORT AND STAND DOWN!”
She screamed and incinerated the loudspeaker with her heat vision melting it into a pile of bubbling slag. Her rage continued as she looked about the morgue enflaming eveyrhing her eyes saw. Apollo stood amongst the burning room of the dead, enraged beyond anything she’d ever felt before.
Mark stood in the bathroom looking at his reflection. He slowly raised the hair clippers. There was a spluttered and a bang, Mark looked at the clippers. They were mangled and broken, and the motor had overheated, his hair undamaged. “What the *&^%?”
Mark grabbed the scissors and grabbed a chunk to chop and the scissors snapped apart at the pivot. Mark slapped the sink leaving two massive hand prints in it. “What the *&&$%$ am I?”
In a rage he jammed a scissor arm into the arm only to have it bend like it was made of rubber. Mark screamed and headbutted the mirror, splintering it into a billion shards. He grabbed a handful of broken glass and rubbed it against his face. Nothing! Barry Metcalf burst through the door.
“MARK! MARK! STOP!”
“THIS ISN’T NORMAL!” Mark shouted. “WHAT AM I?”
“Calm down, Mark, please. It’ll be okay.” Barry reassured his son. “Calm down.”
“Is this a bad…holy $#!+ what the hell happened?” said Frankie standing at the bathroom door. “Man, Malkovich is gonna be p!$$’d!”
Translation into English for those who don’t speak Goggle translate French
Hello Miss Cheval. Do you know why you are here?
Yes. The American actor Mark Metcalf.
He is like you. One with special abilities. You will be reassigned from Presidential protection temporarily until he is brought here for containment and study.
Is that wise, sir? Taking me off guarding our President only puts him in danger. Why not let the Americans deal with their own problems?
We believed you to be the only one, Isabelle. A unique creature able to do things that would be better suited in a Luc Besson film! Your service to France is invaluable but if this boy is really special like yourself, then he would be better here working for us. You will board a special Concorde with the rock band The Centaurs Of The Black Garden as a production assistant. You will locate Mark Metcalf in the United States and you will capture him and ready him for transport back here.
Yes, sir. I will capture Mark Metcalf for France.