The Search for Ball Zero

by Tony Dormanesh

  The giant treads continue mowing through the forest. As the giant machine rolls

  by, the treads leave a crater in the Earth about ten feet deep. Hinting at the size and weight of this beast, its entire bottom is riddled with bullet dents in the armor, small blood stains, giant blood splatters and lots of stuff that can only be described as “meat”.

  Hanging on the side of this enormous Hunter Killer-like machine is a giant tarp that reads “Grand Opening! 50% off – Today only!” Above the sign is a logo, “TelNet, the ‘original’ warstore”

  The forest pulls back for a second to reveal the entire Telnet warstore. It looks

  like a fully-armed apartment building/Walmart on gigantic tank treads. The outer layer is littered with machine guns, radars, sensors, the surface looks like a Death Star. It’s obviously very loud, rumbling and leaving a path of destruction a few blocks wide in its wake. The epicenter of an earthquake on tank treads.

  The crowd waiting on the street is getting feverish now and spilling off the sidewalk. They are intently focused on whatever is about to happen, yet the mood is celebratory; like the front gates of Disneyland are about to open or Black Thursday but everyone is on crack.

  Consumer 1, freaking out, “I can’t believe it. My whole life I’ve dreamt of shopping at a luxury traveling store!”

  Consumer 2, “This is better than any old traveling store.. this is a warstore!” emphasizing the last two words.

  The forest edge starts to rumble, like a T-Rex crunching through the jungle in Jurassic Park, and the crowd reacts like someone got a clutch hit in the World Series.

  Some people are trying to stay in line, but chaos takes reign.

  There is a small, grassy field between the edge of the forest and the city edge, a

  few hundred yards or so. The field is dotted with a few random people, but the city street is filled with thousands and is chaotic.

  Inside a high tech cockpit, uniformed men and women are looking at readouts

  and pressing important buttons on their touch screens. The cockpit looks like the deck of a Star Trek ship, yet they are dressed like they work at Walmart. A map on a big screen in front shows them closing in on a big X.

  The warstore computer brags about some reading it just received, “Consumer confidence – high”, in a typical soothing female computer voice.

  “Are we all ready to go?” the Captain says, he’s the only person here who looks and sounds like he could be in the army.

  “Uhhh..,” Billy, the 2nd in command mutters. This guy is obviously more Walmart employee than Army. Then with supremely faked confidence, “Yes sir!”

  “I don’t want to see another Phoenix. You hear me?”

  The computer interrupts, “Social media advertising saturation – 75%. Physical ad presence nearing 50,000.”

  Billy, “Yes sir, I’ll double check on the supervisors.”

  Computer, “Launching Regional Sales Promotion Virus…”

  On a nearby screen millions of names scroll by in about a ½ a second. Then the screen flashes. “Virus Defeated. …Calculating..”

  The captain likes it,”Woohoo, did you see that!? We were online for a whole half a second! Heads are gonna roll at MBEPSoft West for that one. Good job geek squad. More than we could’ve asked for.”

  A bunch of ultra nerds in some other room celebrate with awkward high fives,

  typing and ‘interfacing’ with their computers in celebration of their successful marketing virus.

  The computer brags again, “Exact virus ad campaign time in cyberspace… point five one seconds. Total ICs infected, ten trillion.”

  The Captain loves it, “Ten trillion facebook fucks want our shit now, let’s give it to ‘em!”

  Billy goes back to the supervisor control room where pimply faced teens man computer terminals and sweat nervously.

  The top of the warstore towers above the tallest trees in the forest, eating it’s

  way to the forest edge. It gets closer and closer as its mechanical roar gets louder and the rumbling moves up the richter scale. It almost reaches the end of the tree line, and a long second later the trees on the edge of the forest explode as the warstore makes its grand entrance; the crowd erupts simultaneously.

  The giant crowd emits every emotion possible: people are running in circles

  like they just won the lottery, some stare in amazement, some burst into tears. A few of the hardcore Ads burst into a porcupine of 3D holographic ads. One particularly enthusiastic Ad jumps from the top of a 3 story building, his ads gloriously filling the air for a few seconds, then he hits the ground in a splat and all his ads pop off. No one cares.

  Back in the warstore cockpit.

  “Billy, can I go on break, I need to call my mom and take a shit.” One of the non-descript screen watching workers spurts out. His name happens to be Robbie.

  “No! You fucking idiot, the sale’s in about 2 seconds, get ready. We need this

  sale to go perfectly or they’re gonna have us sellin used robots to a bunch of Jawas!” Billy gets in Robbie’s face, without the Captain around Billy goes all alpha male, “Jawas Robbie!! Jawas! Do you want that? Do Jawas have enough money to pay for your mom’s therapeutic hemorrhoid ass pool? No. I didn’t think so.. So just do your job, you can shit and talk to your hippo of a mother after we sell these bastards some good ole

  Telnet products. Okay?”

  “Okaay, geez.” Robbie says, then begins trailing off ,”My mom’s not a…”

  The Computer isn’t bragging this time, “Government resistance very probable.

  Local law enforcement resistance – 95% chance.”

  Billy doesn’t like that news, “Did you hear that?! See what you did Robbie?!.. I

  hate you!” The supervisor slaps Robbie across the face, hard. “I hate you! look what you did!”

  Robbie starts crying, but trying to hold it in. He’s also simultaneously trying to

  hold in that shit he was talking about, but lets a fart slip out he’s so stressed. His eyes dart back and forth, no one noticed.

  The Captain is standing near the main front window, looking out over the

  approaching frenzied street, like some great army commander surveying the battlefield.

  “See that Billy? That’s the power, those bastards will do anything and everything to be the first one in here giving us their money. Look at em go! Whoowee.”

  Then after a pause,”Ok, are we ready to do this?”

  A few screen watchers sound off weakly and not in unison, “Yea” “yea” “ok”

  The Captain turns and throws a furious backhand over the top of a row of

  monitors, hitting at least 2 screen watchers. He turns into a drill sergeant, “I can’t hear you!”

  All of the screen watchers now respond, “Yes Sir!”

  “Better. Ok, lower vacuum store entrances.”

  Looking at warstore from the crowd’s perspective. You can hear giant mechanized parts moving and unlocking. Two giant “arms” begin descending from the warstore's side. The ends of each arm have what looks like a giant Dust Buster where the hand should be, but with the words “Entrance. Have a nice time shopping at Telnet” Below that their warstore slogan“We blow away the competition.” With cartoon machine gun muzzle blasts background art. The arms lower almost all the way to ground level and the warstore is still moving at top speed. The giant Dust Buster vacuums turn on with a enormous hum and debris begins being sucked in with tornado like wind speed.

  The frenzied crowd is now not long from it’s shopping spree, it’s pure chaos in

  the streets.

  Suddenly 4 cop cars come flying by with sirens blazing, sending some people

  fleeing back to the sidewalk.

  A few Ads and normal people are very upset by the cops crashing their Sale. One Ad steps out in the path on the oncoming cars like he’s in Tiananmen Square. He’s got multiple 3D holographic ads for the new iPad69 shooting out at angles from his shoulder
s and the Apple logo tattooed across his face. He looks like Flavor Flav, mixed with a pincushion of holographic Apple ads pointing in all directions from his body.

  None of the cop cars touch the brakes, splattering him like the toxic waste guy in Robocop. All of his 3D holograms stutter and shatter in all directions then quickly blink off. No more hits today for that Ad.

  Inside the warstore cockpit there is a slight rumble and the chaos below looks

  like some crazy psychedelic ant farm.

  The Captain’s face widens with a evil smile,”Haaa! Good job baby!” He pats

  his warstore. Then he gets loud again with a strange battlecry,”OK, time to peddle our product!” He continues,”When those cops get out of the crowd, take em out. We don’t need to kill any more of our customers.”

  The cop cars pass the end of the street and snake into the empty field between

  the warstore and the crowd, they separate into 4 dusty trails. One car hits the brakes, and both cops pop out, shooting at the warstore from behind their open doors.

  Two small hatches on the front of the warstore open, four drones cruise out, two

  are airplane like, and two are helicopter like. In unison, they launch missiles and fire mini machine guns. They are heading back into the warstore before their projectiles reach their target, like some cocky basketball player who launches a three point shot and begins celebrating while the shot is still in the air.

  Small but deadly explosions go off in a row 1, 2 ,3, cop cars go up in explosions

  sending them flying in all directions like some out of control movie director demanded it. The two cops that were shooting at the warstore attempt to take off running, they both get about 1 step before they turn into red explosions themselves. One car flies toward the warstore and gets crunched under the treads as easily as a human squashing a beetle.

  Tony and Perry are watching from Treetop. L was working that day and tried to keep working, but everyone stopped what they were doing to see this. People were walking away from their live games. Soon pretty much everyone at Treetop was crowded near the large curved windows that faced the city, watching in amazement as the warstore drones destroy the cop cars. A couple people took off running for the elevators.

  One kid looks over to his friend, “Duuude! That’s just like that one game Amazon’s Drone Clones 3!”

  The second kid agrees, “Ohh yea!!!”

  Then they both agree like kids in a toy commercial from the 80s,”Cool!!!”

  The warstore is nearly there. Some people are standing, many holding money/credit cards out. Some even crying and throwing money into the air, like crazed religious people. A no music mosh pit of consumerism is about to explode. Two guys bust out, running towards the warstore.

  The first guy is sucked into the warstore's giant Dust Buster hands from 20 feet

  away like a piece of dust, his flailing body hits the side and is torn to bloody shreds.

  Some of his body goes into the entrance, his head and left arm go spinning off to the left.

  The second guy gets sucked up like a bird being sucked into the jet engine of an airplane. He splatters against the side also, the front rim of the giant Dust Buster is now covered in blood.

  The crowd sees the first 2 warstore customers instantly killed and goes silent,

  almost as if they are now thinking this is a bad idea… A few look at each other in contemplation. But a long second later they explode with cheers!! Then a mad dash starts. People are running toward the store like it’s a race for their lives. Screaming in joy even after seeing the first 2 people turn into red spatters.

  The crowd meets the warstore, the crowd begins being sucked into the vacuum on both sides. Many are crushed to death by the force, arms, wallets, heads are randomly spit from the steady flow of bodies into the vacuum.

  Not too far away 2 stoners are smoking a joint on top of Treetop Games. From

  their point of view it looks like a battlefield and 1 primitive army is charging a giant technological beast.

  The first stoner is amazed, “Dude, those people like to shop!”

  The second stoner is holding in a hit, almost coughing, “Hashtag holy fuck!”

  then he coughs violently and they both start roaring with laughter. Moments later the hatch to the roof area opens and Perry emerges with a smile. He can sense a joint being smoked a mile away, it’s his sixth sense.

  A little behind and to the left and right of the warstore, a small crowd of bums is

  jogging next the warstore, bathing in the shower of blood and body parts, searching for anything worthwhile. Grabbing wallets, purses and anything else of value. Dogs and other wild animals trail the warstore, ripping body parts apart into smaller body parts, some darting back into the forest with their meat prizes. One hobo holds up a disembodied bloody breast, cheering happily. Another has an intact set of penis and balls in one hand and a bloody ten dollar bill in the other, shaking them in the air victoriously.

  Soon, the first of the consumers is seen exiting the store out of the back. Hands full of bags and brand new sunglasses, video games, stuffed animals, food, even a kitchen sink. They come down a ramp out the exit of the bottom middle of the warstore, right where it’s anus would be. Even though the consumers are happy when they exit, they all stumble out like some bouncer just behind the door is shoving them out.

  Jump to the inside of a different warstore. A much slicker, much higher tech cockpit, the employees on this warstore look like they should be in the Imperial Army or Star Wars and GQ at the same time. Almost all of them are working on their computers, the Elohssa Corp logo is seen everywhere. The shopping spree / massacre can be seen on many of the monitors.

  Over the shoulder of a couple other officers is a young captain, he is watching

  the scene on tablets other officers are holding up in front of him. He is calm, and looks ready to take action. He is also as slick as this high tech cockpit, as is the entire crew. He has slicked back hair, perfectly shaven, wearing sunglasses indoors even though he doesn’t need them. He sees something on one of the screens, his eyebrows shift behind the sunglasses, then he swiftly takes them off like Matthew McConaughey in an action movie.

  A lower officer looks up from his screen to the Captain. “I don’t think they see

  us.”

  “Lets see if we can cut into our competitor’s market share.” The Captain says,

  like he’s in an action movie from the 80s. “Phase 1, 2 hits.”

  One of the Death Star looking employees touches his screen and moves some windows around, sliding a green button that reads “2” over another window that says “Phase 1”

  The outside of the Elohssa warstore makes the Telnet warstore look severely

  dated. Two missile racks slide up very quickly and efficiently, it looks like 15-20 missiles per side, and all the missiles fire, quietly hissing as they take off. The missile racks then quickly slide back down and then slide up again within a millisecond, fully reloaded and fire another volley.

  Inside the Telnet cockpit, their Captain is looking out the front window, smiling, watching thousands of consumers being sucked into the warstore vacuum arms. He doesn’t see missile volley coming his way. Billy taps him on the shoulder like a scared child.

  The Captain quickly catches on to what’s happening, “WHAT THA!”

  One of his Walmart looking crewmen is in front of him, sleeping face down on

  his screen that is screaming at him with roughly 80 red dots racing toward the middle of the screen. The Captain donkey punches the back of his head, the kid wakes up, fresh drool slopping down his face, and instinctively presses a big red button.

  The Telnet warstore anti-missile system activates and a red laser very quickly

  tags and destroys missiles, only taking out about 10 out of 80, the rest crash into the Telnet warstore, unleashing their payload.

  Most of the missiles rip into the middle of the Telent warstore, the giant

  me
chanical beast lurches to the side as the volley shreds it’s chest into a mess of metal shards, black holes and pipes spewing out all kinds of fluids. A giant banner reading “Sale” now hangs sideways and limply reads”Sa” on one side and “le” on the other.

  The collateral damage is massive. A few of the missiles miss their mark, dotting

  the surrounding city with explosions. Much of a city block is destroyed, along with thousands of lives as the Telnet warstore heaves in what seems like slow motion from the impact. Hurt, but not beat, the Telnet warstore's cannons turn and begin firing upon the Elohssa store as it comes out of hiding.

  One of the Telnet’s consumer arm vacuums is destroyed and inoperable, there’s so much blood it almost looks like a human being who’s held a piece of dynamite too long and blew off their own hand. Live victims still scramble to crawl into the twisted metal and others still pour into the other vacuum, unphased. The Telnet store alters its course to face the competitor’s store.

  A cool movie shot would be from above the Telnet warstore, showing the flood

  of people trying to run toward the vacuum entrance. As the direction of the store alters, thousands of potential consumers are lost as the giant tank treads turn and crush them silently. There’s so many people it looks like one of those giant GC army shots in Lord of the Rings movies.

  The Telnet Captain is loving this, but confused “I’ve never seen a warstore like

  that one. But if it bleeds we can kill it. Let em have it Billy!”

  Billy slaps two employees like he’s in the Three Stooges. They jump to