“CRAIG!!”
Scott Hunter is sitting at the small breakfast table in his two bedroom apartment, a frown on his face as he calls out to his personal assistant Craig Massey.
Massey comes running in from the other room, concerned.
“What? What is it?”
Scott pounds his fist down on the table top.
“First of all, nobody told me I had a match this week. No one! Apparently an alleged ‘email’ was sent a week ago, but who checks their email that often?? Who do I look like, MrBeast, who is a person whose name I came across while going down the black hole of Googling? And I mean like the literal black hole. I was Googling black holes. Just for the record, Craig, don’t Google the term ‘black hole’ unless your eyes are prepared for some horrifying imagery. BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT! Who checks their emails that often? Why didn’t you tell me?? Dammit, Craig!”
Craig is taken aback. He shrugs his shoulders and tries to keep from rolling his eyes.
“I thought you knew!”
Scott is incensed, outraged, flummoxed, hornswoggled. “How would I possibly know??”
Craig blinks. “Read your emails?”
Scott ignored him. “I’m not a mind reader, Craig!”
Craig frowns.
“Are you an email reader?”
Scott throws his hands up, frustrated. “Obviously not. But I was watching this promotional tape that the office sent over to me and I see there’s this weird little guy doing something called ‘rap’. What is he talking about? And what the hell is ‘rap’??”
“Well, you see….” Craig took a step toward Scott and pulled out a chair for himself. “It’s when you rhythmically…”
“I know what it is! I’m on the fancy coffee website right now doing research.”
Craig blinks again, confused. “I’m sorry, you what…?”
“It’s all right here, Craig!” Scott turns his laptop screen around so that Craig can see it. “See, they have regular raps, caramel amazing amaretto raps, white chocolate mocha raps…”
Craig is stunned.
“Um, boss… I… think you confused ‘rap’ with ‘frappe’…”
Scott looks at Craig for a moment, then back at the screen, then back at Craig, then back at the screen again, then back at Craig.
“Oh, well don’t I feel foolish.”
Scott slams the laptop shut. “I’ve been trying to figure out why Jay Evans was talking in rhymes when he wanted coffee. I’ve been racking my brain trying to figure out what it all meant. Did he mean rap, did he mean frappe? Did he mean crap? Trap? Smear of Pap? And other things that rhyme with rap! Why didn’t you stop me from feeling foolish, CRAIG?!?”
Craig stammered.
“I um…. Um… didn’t even know about this until just now?”
Scott sticks a finger out and in Craig’s face. “Listen here, I pay you to know about things far far before ‘just now’. Don’t you ever learn about things ‘just now’! You understand? From now on, I want you learning about things at least two weeks before they happen!”
Now Craig rolls his eyes for real.
“That’s not even possible.”
Scott slams his palm on the table for effect.
“Was it possible when Mario tried to save the princess from King Kong? Was it possible when Pocahontas led Lois and Clark to California? Was it possible when America fought off a horde of alien ships and destroyed their mother ship??”
“First of all,” Craig interjects. “Pretty much everything you just said is wrong. And I’m pretty sure that last sentence was just from the movie Independence Day.”
Scott looks away thoughtful.
“I did just watch that movie over the weekend. Will Smith was so heroic. SLAP!! That’s another thing that rhymes with rap!”
Craig shakes his head, trying his best not to facepalm, and just gives up.
“I’m sorry sir, from now on I will be better at predicting the future. This won’t happen again.”
Scott nods, satisfied. “Good. It better not. Now I have to go and get ready to thrash Jay Evans about the head and shoulders, and not just because he has dandruff! Also because if I want to win a championship, I need to turn some heads. And what better way to do that than by hurting someone else’s…”
Pause.
“Head. Someone else’s head.”
“Good idea, sir.” Massey stands up, ready to leave. “Can I go now?”
Scott nods. “Yes, please.”
Sighing, Craig walks out of frame, and Scott surreptitiously opens his laptop back up and stares at the screen.
“Mmmm…. Caramel….”