It’s Monday morning. Mr. Cassidy's sat in his large, neat and tidy office, watching God's Plan TV on his computer. He used to think Ent News was way too dull and predictable, but the kind of stories he's been seeing on God's Plan Ent News really intrigues and surprises him. There’s something in the air, making major celebrities commit felonies, the latest of which being Robbie Rodriguez, the host of the very successful, long-running ‘Subjected,’ a reality show where contestants compete for a substantial cash prizes in doing extreme stunts, and eating disgusting contrivances. And now, on God’s Plan Ent News, Robbie Rodriguez had gotten in a heated argument with someone on his production crew, and had ended up stabbing the man, on no just cause. Cassidy thought he'd seen it all, how stupid and arrogant celebrities can be, but God's Plan TV seems to herald a new era in celebrity blundery. And for the fact that it's news that hasn't happened yet, he decides it's the best goddamned TV he ever watched in his life, and grins widely. Then, he decides it time to deal with Helen, and presses the intercom, “Fetch me Helen.” Then he turns off God's Plan TV; No need for Helen to see anything suspicious. A moment later, Helen knocks on the door, rather brashly, the woman doesn't have very much respect for her seniors. And Cassidy knows for a fact, he's gonna enjoy this. Helen barges in, not waiting for any kind of response to her brash knocking,
“You sent for me, sir,” The ‘sir’ couldn't be said in a more crooked, silenced, attenuated way; More like a short sigh, really.
“Yeah,” says Cassidy, “Grab a seat.” Not that anyone needs to tell Helen Rundell to get comfortable, the woman was already well on her way to a seat. “So Helen,” Cassidy now sighs, trying to show solemnity. And really, the man is solemn; As I said earlier, he still has a soft spot for Helen. “some changes have to be made to the way we do the news. There have to be some budget cuts, and people aren't really feeling the fashion segment-”
“Since when?!” interposes Helen, wide-eyed.
“Well, there were a few complaints before, but now, it's got to the point where it's general opinion, and we have to do something. They say we already have enough fashion shows, why do we gotta clutter the news with more of it? I personally think you're doing a great job, it's just … people want what they want. Or in this case, don't want what they don't want. And being that we have to make budget cuts, my hands are tied.”
“Am I being terminated?” asks Helen, almost in tears.
“What?! No! It's just the fashion segment on the news. It has to go. You can carry on with your fashion research, or whatever it is you do off camera.”
“Maybe I can be reassigned to something else on screen, I could co-host with Richie and Connie.”
“No, come on,” says Cassidy, “It’s no use having more than two hosts on the news. I'm sorry, Helen, there just isn't any on-screen openings.”
Helen now goes berserk, springing up in fury, “This isn't right! I've given my entire life to this network! I deserve screen time! I put in extra hours, even worked on goddamned Sundays! You can't cut me off like this! What the fuck am I supposed to do now?!”
Cassidy's genuinely scared the woman might throw something at him, “Get back to your off-screen job-” says he, timidly.
“Oh save it!” lashes Helen, glaring Cassidy in the eyes. She holds the glare a moment, then storms away, heading for the exit, and slamming the door behind her to startle the already shaken up Cassidy. The woman is good, thinks Cassidy. She's got him wondering now if he did the right thing. And the way she jiggled her tight ass heading out… Well, what has to be done has to be done; There is a fortune to be made. And there's no telling whether the woman's resigned, or she's just gonna grudgingly carry on with her off-camera duties. Well, Cassidy makes a decision to find out for sure real soon, and if Helen's out, the better. He's just gonna hire an even better hot chick, someone “open-minded,” with “common sense.”
In the hallway outside Cassidy’s office, Helen strides angrily away from the office, closing in on Blake, as he heads toward it. He's dressed in a crisp outfit of a dress shirt, blazer, jeans and sneakers. It may not be the suit he used to wear to his old job at Prowse Publishing, but it sure as hell is of way higher grade now that the man's made all that money from the God's Plan Blog, and is expecting infinitely more from the Bet. And Ent actually requires it's on-screen people not to dress too formal; No need to appear brash and unrelatable to the viewers who are just trying to relax, looking for joy in this life. Helen meets Blake’s eyes, and the man seems upbeat and perky. And she wonders, ‘Who is this strange man that seems elated, the very period she herself is devastated?’ He's staring her in the eyes, extracting all her hopes and joy from her soul. And he’s headed for just where she's been afflicted to consolidate his joy extracting rituals. Blake and Helen eye each other as they walk past each other, heading in exact opposite directions: Blake, toward the joy in the universe, and Helen, away from it, and toward the sorrow. Blake himself sees something familiar in Helen's countenance. It's of his own countenance back when he was downsized at Prowse. And he can only guess that the woman’s job’s been seriously compromised, “Been there; Done that,” mutters he, to himself. He actually knows Helen as the chick that hosts fashion segment on Ent News, and knows that she's a small celebrity in her own right, and even though he doesn't care very much for the fashion segment, it'd be kind of polite to greet the woman, and maybe ask for an autograph. But that countenance he sees, is nothing encouraging. And he even gets an inkling that the woman's job is seriously compromised because of him. So he decides not to acknowledge her in any way, not even the slightest nod, it just would be too awkward.
Blake knocks on Mr. Cassidy’s office door. “Come in.” Blake goes in, smiling. “There’s the man of the hour!” says Cassidy.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Great morning indeed, my friend, grab a seat.” Then Cassidy realizes, he doesn't even know the man's name, “Funny thing actually, in all the excitement of the other night, I never even got to know your name, but as you probably already know, I’m Henry Cassidy.”
“Yeah I know, I tracked you down and raided your home, remember?”
“You sure did. And you are?”
“Blake Wilson at your service,” Blake tips his head.
“You’re hired, Blake,” Cassidy extends a hand, and Blake shakes it, smiling,
“Thank you, sir.”
“So, the job's pretty simple; it's basically, reading from a teleprompter, and presenting it like it's your own words. Archie, the guy you met at my house, he'll show you the ropes, and teach you the tricks, like what to say if there's a glitch with the teleprompter, or you experience some other technical difficulties. And you can come to me with any complaints or confusions.”
“Yes sir. Hey, I saw Helen Rundell on my way in, she looked upset.”
“Yeah, the fashion segment got dropped. She's lost her screen slot.”
“But she still works here?” asks Blake.
“If she wants. I don’t yet know her resolve.”
“Is it cuz of the sport segment she got cut off?”
“Something had to go to make way for the sport segment, Blake.”
“Oh,” says Blake, feeling a bit down someone’s career got seriously compromised because of him. “Does she know she's being substituted?”
“No, not yet, at least. But if she continues work here, she's probably gonna find out eventually, but that shouldn't be anyone's problem, no one guaranteed her screen time; she's a correspondent, a researcher. Now that the screen isn’t available to her, she should just carry on with her off-screen duties.”
“Right,” says Blake, easing his mind that he didn’t do anything wrong, and should just be glad about the privileges he now has.
“So,” says Cassidy, getting up, “walk with me. I'll show you to the right people and places.” Blake gets up, and they head toward the door. “Welcome to Ent,” Cassidy again extends a hand, shaking Blake, “the home of pop culture. It is our mission to enrich people's lives, to show them that celebrities are just like them, maybe even more disgusting.”
“Yes sir.”
“It’s a responsibility you must take to heart; a responsibility you must carry out with passion.”
“Yes sir.”
“Of course, you’re gonna be doing sports, so you’re gonna be the outlier; the odd one out. Nobody’s gonna like you, of course except Archie, but it’s fine, it’s not like they can bully you or anything; Anybody give you any trouble, you come to me.”
“Yes sir.”
“They’re not gonna understand why we now have to do sport news, but just play it cool, and tell them it wouldn’t serve you right to undermine your job and salary. Eventually, everyone's gonna get used to you and your damned sports, and we’re all gonna be one big, happy family.”
“Yes sir.”
“And I need not tell you that if God’s Plan TV expires, the sport segment too goes to hell.”
“Of course,” says Blake, smiling, “Then, I can be reassigned to something else on screen.”
“You’re right,” says Cassidy, sarcastically “ ‘on screen’ my ass. You'd be lucky if you still had any kinda job here.”
Blake giggles, “Yes sir,” And he decides not to bother himself thinking about how he could lose his beloved onscreen job in a twinkling of an eye, if God's Plan TV disappears. Well, at least, he's rich now-- So, Cassidy gives Blake a tour of the station complex, showing him everything interesting, even scandalous about the place. Then he hands him over to Archie, who drills him on how to present himself to the camera, and if need be, go off script. Blake takes the instructions to heart, and is in fact a natural for the camera, and show business. He impresses Archie with how fast he gets the hang of things, and that afternoon, they shoot an actual sport segment piece with the news, and Blake's ecstatic.
Later at night, Blake's back at home, and he, Joanna and Olly are sat in the couch watching him give the sport updates on Ent News.
“Boy,” says Blake, watching himself on TV, “don’t I look good?”
“You look good, baby,” says Joanna, rubbing him in the back, and kisses him on the cheek.
And the game results sportscaster-Blake gives are simply priceless; Many of which are the kind of results that couldn't have been predicted; Where the underdogs manage to triumph against giants. You'd have to be insane to bet on those results… Or maybe someway somehow … you can see in the future.
“I’ll be damned,” says Blake surprised by the bizarre, unlikely scores and results.
“Who woulda thought?” Olly adds.
“You mean, ‘Who would think?’ ” says Joanna, “It hasn't happened yet.”
“Right,” says Olly, “Who would think?”
“We would think, Olly my boy,” says Joanna, “We definitely would, because now we know, and we know for a fact.”
“Oh yeah,” says Olly and Blake, nodding. The results keep coming in, and they’re just fantastic. Blake jots in his notebook, grinning ear to ear, “Keep ’em coming, sir,” says he, “I’m your biggest fan. God, I never loved myself so much.” He now lifts the notebook over his head, and holds it there like it's a trophy, “Moneyyy!” he cheers, and Jo and Olly behold him, big smiles on everyone’s faces. And rightfully so, the betting begins, and money starts to pour in like a tsunami. The first person to splurge would be Olly, getting his very own brand new Aston Martin Vanquish for over four hundred grand of one-time full payment, but that's just chicken change to him now, and this is just the beginning. Archie can't believe his luck; Explaining his new luxury to his wife and friends is a serious challenge. He then decides, what the hell, he can tell his wife. He tells her everything, exhorting her to keep it just between them, but the thing is, she has trouble believing the fairytale, then Archie tries to prove it to her, explaining why Ent News now has a sport segment, and showing her the bets he has to place. She still has her doubts, but she knows that if those crazy bets come true, she'll have to be inclined to believe him. And when the bets come true, she can't but be bewildered. She now wants to know all the intricate details, and Archie spills the beans, deciding to trust his wife, even as he knows he cheats on her, and is himself not trustworthy to her, but it shouldn’t have to be reciprocal. Or maybe the experience is just so damn interesting, he has to tell someone, and it better be someone he trusts … or at least trusts the most. And his wife, Doris, appreciates the narrative in its juiciness and bizarreness. And she also appreciates the fact that Archie's sharing it with her; He never really spoke to her much, and for the fact that she thinks he probably cheats on her, she hopes that this his new openness should herald a new era of fidelity and camaraderie between them. And as for Archie's friends, he decides to just tell them he got lucky gambling. And that wouldn't be a downright lie, would it?