Demon Imp Executives [Scene 16]

Last night was a lot more of a quiet night than I was used to. Well, from Yunaria at least. She decided to sleep back in the guest room for the night, her old room. I didn't know what was going on with her. Even her ridiculous spending purchases or loud noises from her room would've been better than utter silence.

We now knew that her spaceship wasn't broken, according to spiritual guru master, but it didn't really answer as to why she couldn't get it to work. I'm sure with such high hopes relying on those idiots to provide an answer was frustrating to say the least. But I wonder if that was the only thing that bothered her.

I wanted to find out, I truly did, but unfortunately when duty calls, especially when it comes from the Devil himself, you have to answer.

It goes without saying that I missed a shit ton of work, and news. Even a single day passing was like months in the realm of a production schedule that was coming to a close and missing their director. The time off did me some good, but as far as the movie went, well. I mean, I figured that things would be a shitshow but, nothing could really prepare you for what that actually entailed.

My phone buzzed the entire night when we got back. Almost a thousand missed notifications and messages. You would think, this is when someone else would step up. Carry on in my stead, but no. All incompetent idiots as ever. The photo of me and Jada in a banana suit completely went around the entire Internet. Rumors continued about the item of me and Jada as a couple. Some accusing me of abusing my power as a director to seduce her, others saying we were a hit. That we were perfect idiots together. Jada, sure, me? I'd never wore a dunce hat not even once in my life.

Set Design, the press, Costumes, you name it. Everyone called or wanted to notify me about something. Time had started to dwindle down, less than a month to finish the initial filming for Space Cowboy Robot Love had already come.

The worst of it all was that everyone agreed on one thing: banana suits. T-shirts, plushies, fan art, and the like were already being made for SCRL 8. I had to admit it was a genius marketing strategy. It was completely dumb, cut-out faced banana suit monkeys parading around the set, I could already envision it.

Skyline Studios already condemned the leaks and was 'committed to finding the culprit' but I already knew. This was their fuck you. When I turned the idea down, it never went well. It didn't fit the version of the story I wanted to tell. Of course they were behind it.

"Nice sunroof. Was it apart of the design?" One of the demon imps asked me.

I've learned that extraterrestrial beings had no understanding of boundaries. They often invaded your home, unannounced, whenever it was convenient for them. Such was the case on a beautiful Sunday like this one. I woke up this morning to find them outside my door, Ben, Carla and the crew. The whole gang of idiots was here.

"No, it was a recent add-on. Of course, it didn-nevermind. Why are you here?"

"Well, it's our job, of course," Ben spoke, "When your director doesn't report to set, it raises concerns naturally. I'm sure you've seen the news. A leak of this magnitude is awful, it's everywhere. We wanted to check in, along with other issues,"

"Right, this 'leak'. I'm sure you had nothing to do with this. Merchandise, every news outlet, press report related to films just happened to get this scoop. I'm just curious on how you got Jada in on this,"

"Are you saying that Skyline Studios had something to do with this?" Ben questioned.

"No, not at all. Just that it happened to be a widespread frenzy over the idea of banana suits everywhere all at once, leading people to speculate it would be in the movie. Even though, as a director, the position you hired me for, I shot that idea down."

"It's a great idea, one that you came up with. It's brilliant. A new thing people can latch on to for Space Cowboy Robot Love. The whole Mexican poncho bit was starting to get old," Ben added, getting up from the opposite couch to join me.

"Look, I understand how it seems, but not all things are like that. Some things just...happen. Not good, not bad. We're on time for movie scheduling-"

"But what-" I paused. I realized that I was going to say something I had thought since the beginning. That I was a cog in the machine. None of what I said truly mattered. All it was, SCRL 8, was a cash grab. My input didn't matter. The demon imps of Skyline Studios only had red little horns and carried around large sacks to collect money.

For a moment, I thought about Yunaria. She asked me why I wanted her to be my girlfriend, that there was no logic to human relationships. That much was true. I never gave her a true answer. At first, it was an arrangement. What were the chances of meeting an actual space alien woman as a director filming a movie about a human falling in love with one in another galaxy?

Slowly, but surely, more and more idiotic things kept happening. It was all her damn fault. When I saw her looking at the moon late last night, I couldn't help thinking: when did she become something more to me?

If there was something controlling my life, in a world completely bloated of idiots (too many to count), Yunaria was a part of that. Maybe the answer was always right in front of me.

"If I am the director, and Space Cowboy Robot Love is to meet expectations, it can only go as far as you allow it. Some of the members around the crew, I won't say any names have said horrible things about a certain casserole-"

"No!" Ben snapped, with the rest of the demon imps gasping in unison.

"Oh yes, it's true. See, I love it. I've never skipped not a single bite of your wife's casserole on set, I think it boosts morale. But here's the thing. Some people may think," I leaned in closer, "Or well, I've heard, just a rumor, that there was a set wide strike coming,"

"A strike?" Carla asked, "But what does that have to do with the uh," she looked hesitantly over at Ben, "...delicious casserole?"

"Everything. Have you heard of the snowball effect?"

"Obviously," one of the demon imps replied.

"Right, so you know that one thing leads to the next. I've heard the rumors. People in all departments are talking about, well, once again, I heard, that if Skyline makes them eat that every day, what's next? Where's the line? First, it's the casserole, then the pinwheel hats, the banana suits-"

"It's only one slice! One fucking slice you have to take home every day! Do you know how hard my wife works on-" Ben yelled. But I patted him on the shoulder.

"I get it, I get it. It's only one... slice. But imagine what would happen if you had no job? Because workers went on strike? Your wife would have no house to make casserole,"

"We need more proof, where are some of the names-"

"Can't do that. Workers need their anonymity. It would look bad if I ratted them out. A leak happens, right? So do strikes. However, I do have a way to mitigate this. I only have a few suggestions on the direction of the movie. Let's start with the banana suits..."

***

I reviewed my contract and realized that I only had about 45% control of all directional and production operations. God, my lawyer was a dunce. What an idiot. I think it was false to say that lies got you nowhere. Clearly, it's how the world worked. In the end, we came to agree that a strike would be bad, and that too many banana suit appearances would spoil the gag. I would have to settle with two scenes involving the banana suits. In return, I told them to let the story focus more on Jedd and how idiotic and strange his life had become since meeting Yunari.

I looked up at the stars from the hole in my roof and saw blue flames appear in the sky. Yunaria wore her tan apron with the Emerald Cove cap, hair sticking out from the back in a ponytail. It was odd, but she had started to develop bags under her eyes recently. I suppose even robots could get overworked. The robot revolution, if it ever came, would inevitably fail due to exhaustion. I could tell that.

But I did have something in mind. I hated to admit it, but she had become...important to me. I couldn't break a promise. After all, she was my girlfriend.

She landed on the couch and sat next to me, laying her head on my shoulder.

"How was your day?" I asked.

She jolted up and looked me dead in the eyes. "You've never asked me that before. Are you a clone?"

"What? No, since when did you start making jokes?"

"I've come to understand the language of humans. Their speech pattern seems to always vary. But I am tired,"

"Tomorrow," I whispered, "Let's go on a date, tomorrow,"

She always fell asleep when I had something to important to say. Oh well, it couldn't be helped.

***