Escape From Paradise Island (Direction Unknown)

[0xDEADCAFE]

Okay, so this is a sequel to my last sequel, Itelebobaal Redux (Director's Final Cut). For anyone who has already had quite enough of this particular brand of silliness, my most sincere apologies. Apparently this story is not quite done yet.

When I began the previous sequel the only thing I was sure of from the beginning was the ending. This time I have to admit that I don't have so much as an idea for chapter 2, much less an ending, but there is something out there, something about this director and his fate that keeps pulling me back.

I believe this story may have a bit less silliness and be somewhat less dependent on the world of Sanctuary than the two prequels. I intend to post chapters that are a bitter shorter and of a more consistent length. I am not quite sure that I yet believe that I will ever finish this.

[0xDEADCAFE]

“Cut!”

“No, no, no, Bunny. Don’t look at me, your character is supposed to be looking at the skull in his hands, thinking fondly of his long-dead companion, Yorick. I know you can do this Bunny, just like we practiced. Here, say the line with me again: ‘Alas poor Yorick. I knew him Horatio.’ ”

Bunny-Three did her best to do as her master bade her. But she really was not listening to him. All she could think about was whether her master was thirsty, or hot, or hungry, or in need of anything at all that she could get or do for him. It was completely beyond her comprehension to understand that speaking strange words to a large seashell could bring him happiness.

“Alright? That’s very good Bunny, now just like that when I say ‘Action’, okay? Ready?”

Bunny-Three beamed her adoring smile to her master, as she always did.

The man who had just been coaching Bunny-Three in her monologue turned and slogged barefoot through the fine, golden sand. He really didn’t expect Bunny-Three to get it right this time either. Like Bunny-One and Bunny-Two, she seemed to have no knack for acting whatsoever. Oh well, there was always Bunny-Four, and Bunny-Five, and so on.

None of the Bunny’s were much good at anything other then tending to his every need. Except building sand castles, for which they had a remarkable talent. He noted that as he hefted himself up into his tall sand throne. It wasn’t quite what he had wanted, but then, he had not been able to quite remember exactly what type of chair it was that he had wanted.

All he knew was that he wanted to organize his many servants into putting on something like a play. It didn’t matter much which play, just any play, and he wanted to direct it. Where this desire came from he knew not, but what had started as a whim, had now become almost an obsession. He needed to feel the tension, the edgy uncertainty of leading a group of actors through a script, the strain of having something big, something challenging weighing on his shoulders. He needed some spontaneity, to make some theatrical magic out of the numbingly predictable routine of his life.

“And… Action!”

Bunny-Three looked at the large conch shell in her hands and, for one moment, looked almost as if she would speak to it. The would-be director was on the edge of his sandy chair, making two round indentations with his buttocks and thighs on the forward side of the seat. “Come on, come on!” he thought. He could see that she was about to speak. The suspense was killing him – and he was loving every moment of it.

“Dinner time!” sang Bunny-Three.

And hearing that, all the other Bunny’s left their stage positions and ran towards him, beaming their smiles, clutching him gently in their eager hands, and playfully yet earnestly, dragging him toward his luxurious hammock slung between the two huge and majestic palm trees just perfectly spaced for that particular employment.

Although disappointed, the man knew better than to resist. When they felt it was time to serve him they were like a warm glacier, gently and irresistibly conveying him towards some inevitable and enviable fate: a sumptuous meal, a melting massage, a cool bath, whatever fine and wonderful experience that was possible on a tropical island for a man with a seemingly endless number of untiring, devoted, beautiful servants, was his.

He knew that the meal would be his favorite. He knew, as he settled back into the soft and plush pillows perfectly arranged on his silken hammock, that some of the Bunny’s would be along presently to cut his hair, manicure his hands and feet, mop his brow with a cool towel. It was so predictable, so relentlessly the same, that it had become almost a torture, albeit an undeniably sweet and pleasant one, to endure.

And here was Bunny-Seventeen, right on cue, with his pedicure. He looked admiringly at his feet. Each of his toenails was like a perfectly round flattened pearl. He had the prettiest feet he had ever seen. The same could be said for his hands and his haircut. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt stubble on his chin. In fact, he couldn’t remember a lot of things.

“Thank you Bunny,” he said as Bunny-Eleven arrived with his dinner. She nodded even though they both knew her name wasn’t Bunny. In all the time he had spent with them he had never heard any of them utter a name. He had tried asking them their names, but they never seemed to quite understand him, as if none of them had never had, and did not know the purpose of, a name.

After pressing the point with them many times he finally got a word out of one of them that sounded vaguely like “Bunny”, so afterwards he called all of them that and kept track of them in his own mind by appending numbers to it. They seemed to know what he meant when he called them ‘Bunny’, so that’s what he called them, because for some reason he felt he needed to call them something.

“Dinner-time!” she said shining her perfect smile on him, gazing on him with pure and fervent adoration.

That look always made him a little uncomfortable. As he bit into a perfectly grilled swordfish steak he wondered how the Bunny’s knew when it was dinner-time. He looked up at the glorious sunset and the unsetting sun. A shimmering disk of oranges and reds, it hung just above the horizon, its swollen underbelly kissing the silvery ocean. It was a sunset to die for, almost painful in its beauty, almost tragic in its unrequited sojourn, a perfect sunset that never set.

It was impossible to count days with the sun hanging in the sky like that, unmoving hour after hour. He had tried at one time to count the number of times he slept, but always lost count. He had tried notching marks in the bark of the giant palm trees holding up his hammock, or at least he thought he had, but every time he went to count them there were none to be found.

He had no idea how long he had been there, no recollection of how he had gotten there, and barely any notion of whom he was or who he had been before he got there. But there was one thing that he had finally come be certain of – he had to escape.

[Relapse_]

This so far is an excellent story, and very easy to digest. I noticed some unnecessary commas in there, like:

"Where this desire came from he knew not, but what had started as a whim, had now become almost an obsession."

You could very easily delete the last comma and not miss anything. Whenever I read a comma, I do a little rest like in musical notation. It's good to use them when you change direction in a sentance, like "Where this desire came from he knew not, BUT". But if you put in too many, it can make the reading rythm choppy and stop-start.

Not that this was a problem. This was just the only constructive critisism I can offer. So far the subject has me locked in for more, and without a strong comedic theme this time, too. I felt that your second installment of 'itelebobaal' was a bit like trying to turn a good short film (your first one) into a good full length film. Changing directions, at least stylistically and in theme, is a good step for the series.

[RevenantsKnight]

Most of my previous comments still hold, though I find the added undercurrent of "discontent in paradise" interesting. So far, it seems to work, and I'm a bit curious as to how you're going to play that out. There were a few parts of this piece about which I have unfairly picky comments, so here goes:

None of the Bunny’s were much good at anything other then tending to his every need.

The plural of "bunny" is "bunnies." What you're using here indicates that the Bunny in question possesses something, i.e. a seashell.

When they felt it was time to serve him they were like a warm glacier, gently and irresistibly conveying him towards some inevitable and enviable fate: a sumptuous meal, a melting massage, a cool bath, whatever fine and wonderful experience that was possible on a tropical island for a man with a seemingly endless number of untiring, devoted, beautiful servants, was his.

This is a vivid image, but the comparison isn't quite parallel here; warm glaciers per se don't really do anything. Maybe with a few added and shifted words, it would work well. Also, the last clause shouldn't have a comma after "servants" (sorry to beat on something, but...) and after "bath," there should probably be a new sentence or semicolon instead of a comma since the last clause is a complete sentence on its own.

Anyway, good job again.

[0xDEADCAFE]

This so far is an excellent story, and very easy to digest. I noticed some unnecessary commas in there, like:

"Where this desire came from he knew not, but what had started as a whim, had now become almost an obsession."

You could very easily delete the last comma and not miss anything. Whenever I read a comma, I do a little rest like in musical notation. It's good to use them when you change direction in a sentance, like "Where this desire came from he knew not, BUT". But if you put in too many, it can make the reading rythm choppy and stop-start.

Not that this was a problem. This was just the only constructive critisism I can offer. So far the subject has me locked in for more, and without a strong comedic theme this time, too. I felt that your second installment of 'itelebobaal' was a bit like trying to turn a good short film (your first one) into a good full length film. Changing directions, at least stylistically and in theme, is a good step for the series.
Good call on the comma. The sentence is better without it. And thanks for the encouragement. I'm sure some humor will slip in once and a while, but I am hoping that this will have a different feel than the first two.

[0xDEADCAFE]

Thanks for your thoughts.

The plural of "bunny" is "bunnies." What you're using here indicates that the Bunny in question possesses something, i.e. a seashell. I considered 'Bunnies' but it did not seem correct to change a proper name in that way. Would you call a group of men named Tony the Tonies?

This is a vivid image, but the comparison isn't quite parallel here; warm glaciers per se don't really do anything. Maybe with a few added and shifted words, it would work well. Also, the last clause shouldn't have a comma after "servants" (sorry to beat on something, but...) and after "bath," there should probably be a new sentence or semicolon instead of a comma since the last clause is a complete sentence on its own. Yeah, this sentence got a bit sloppy toward the end. I felt it even as I was writing it but I didn't think the part after 'bath' could stand as an independent clause. Looking at it again, the 'was his' at the end probably makes it a complete sentence. I think a semi-colon might be best here, but would probably opt for a period in deference to the long-sentence intolerant.

(Warm glacier. Sounds like a big puddle doesn't it? )