Operation Multiverse

“They are going to love this pitch,” Brad said with his head pitched towards Maven.

 

“How could they not? Everyone is doing multiverse stories right now. But not quite like this,” Maven answered calmly.

 

Brad, for a moment, though that was odd. Maven hated pitch meetings since the pair’s ideas were usually rejected. On the other hand, they did have a really good idea for once. A few screenplays in hand, Brad opened the door for his writing partner and the pair entered the movie executive’s office.

 

The office in Hollywood Hills overlooked a large swath of L.A. The smog wasn’t too bad today, the sun almost shining through. Even Mr. Eichmann’s lackeys looked like they didn’t have their usual sticks up their asses today, though there was never hope for Mr. Eichmann himself. At least not yet.

 

“Alright you two. Knowing your record so for, unless you wow me right off the bat, this is going to be a quick meeting. What do you have?” The old man didn’t even bother looking up at Brad or Maven, instead draping his dopey eyes all over his secretary.

 

New boobs, Brad noted.

 

“You’re going to love…” Brad started but Maven cut him off.

 

“The multiverse, sir,” Maven stated with a smirk. He stepped to his left, towards the nearest lackey’s chair and put his hands on the bespectacled man’s shoulders. “Everyone is doing multiverse stories right now. It’s hot, no doubt about it.” Maven patted the lackey’s shoulder and walked on to the next person and put a hand on her right shoulder.

 

“This is Myra,” Maven observed the obvious for the group.

 

“You’re already starting to bore me, Winthrop,” Mr. Eichmann waved. “Get on with it.”

 

“Oh, I am, sir,” Maven's eyes brightened. “Myra here is an ordinary person with an ordinary job, never been in trouble a day in her life, well, except the time she got arrested for indecent exposure on Spring Break. Impressive, considering the prim and proper citizen you are now, right, Myra? Who is she really? We’re not sure anymore.” Maven patted wide-eyed Myra on the shoulder and walked away. He walked behind the weathered movie executive towards the secretary Ms. Marple and squatted down beside her so that Mr. Eichmann had no choice but to pay attention.

 

“Then there’s Ms. Marple here. There’s something…different…about her today. No, I don’t mean the breast enhancement – nice work by the way – I mean, this mole right here,” Maven shot a finger at her right cheek. “Was that mole there before?”

 

Mr. Eichmann and his lackeys leaned towards the secretary and she leaned back.

 

“I know it’s small and maybe you haven’t paid much attention before, but I can assure you, no, it was not there before,” Maven noted.

 

“What are you driving at, Winthrop?” Mr. Eichmann scowled. Even Brad didn’t know. Maven was going off their script.

 

“What I’m saying is, is that this isn’t Ms. Marple, at least not our Ms. Marple,” Maven said. The secretary smiled with her mouth and not her eyes. Brad interjected.

 

“What he means, sir, is that what if every day people started being replaced by their doppelgangers from another universe to the point of it being an invasion?”

 

“And why would they do that, Beauchamp?” Mr. Eichmann’s eyes shot up at Brad.

 

“Ah,” Brad pointed up, “Because their own universe is dying and they’ve found a way to escape into another universe. Since then, they’ve been replacing their counterparts in the universe they’ve escaped into.” He paused. “I think you see where I’m going with this,” Brad nodded with his mouth agape.

 

“For example,” Maven tagged back in, “Let’s say the other Ms. Marple here was an advanced troop, so to speak. Right now, she’s got a gun and she’s going to stand up and shoot everyone in this room so that our doppelgangers can waltz right in and take over our lives.”

 

“Sort of like Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Are you hinting at a remake?” Mr. Eichmann frowned.

 

“Ooo,” Maven squeezed his eyes shut, “Sure, we could go that route – a ‘hostile takeover’ fails and now someone knows. There’s a race to expose the truth while no one knows if their family or friends are actually their family and friends. Eventually the truth comes out and there’s this big final battle, lots of explosions…”

 

Maven stood up and his expression flattened.

 

“Only no one finds out because the doppelgangers are too close to the real thing for anyone to ever know the difference. Though, I suppose if we did want to throw a twist in there, maybe the person who finds out about the invasion could have forgotten that they’re one of the invaders seeing how one of the side-effects of inter-dimensional travel is temporary short-term memory loss. That’s what happened to Brad.”

 

The movie executive and his lackeys’ eyes returned to Brad. Maven laughed.

 

“Do you see how easy it is to sown suspicion?” Maven asked. Eyes bounced back towards Brad’s partner while Brad doubled over in pain and squeezed his head. A deep groan rang out. Then Brad stood back up.

 

“But it’s not suspicion if it’s the truth, right, man?” Brad spoke towards Maven while pulling out an automatic pistol. “Damn, I really did forget for a hot minute, didn’t I?”

 

“I wasn’t too worried about it. I’d knew you’d come around eventually,” Maven answered. “But you were so into your role as this world’s Brad you didn’t even notice you had your gun on you. That’s messed up.”

 

Mr. Eichmann, the secretary, and his lackeys traded panicked looks. “You’re…you’re not serious,” the executive stammered.

 

“Ha! Yeah! We’re just fucking with you,” Brad beamed. “I really think you’re going to like our script.”

 

Mr. Eichmann threw himself back in his chair and took a deep breath. “Oh, wow, good work gentlemen. Alright! Hand out those screenplays and let’s get a better idea of what this will look like. Set up more scenes for me.”

 

“Brad!” Maven shouted. “What are you doing?” he said plainly.

 

“Sorry,” Brad lowered his head and brought it back up. “I was just curious to see how much they’d give us for the idea.”

 

“I’m confused,” Mr. Eichmann interrupted. 

 

“No,” Maven cocked his head, “You’re dead.” Maven pulled out his own automatic pistol and shot Mr. Eichmann in the chest then turned the gun on the two nearest lackeys while Brad shot the two nearest him.

 

“Fuck!” Ms. Marple shouted. “So close to my ear?! And look at the fucking mess you made!”

 

“What! This is Hollywood, sis. Go big or go home, right?” Brad nodded and giggled towards Maven while waving his gun around.

 

Maven cursed under his breath. “No, she’s right. This is exactly how they would find out. I need to get on the horn.”

 

He took out what looked like a transparent smart phone. “Echo Team Bravo Delta 6. Five doppelgangers erased. We’ll need a cleaning crew at Eichmann’s Hollywood Hills office while the Insertion Team moves into place.”

 

“Copy that Echo Team Bravo Delta 6,” a faint voice acknowledged. “Good work team. You know what to do next.”

 

“Go to a fucking audiologist,” Ms. Marple swore.

 

“Get on with our lives,” Maven told her.

 

“Get on with our lives,” Brad agreed.

 

They started for the door as a group, Brad leading the way. On their way out, Brad threw his head back towards Maven and Ms. Marple.

 

“You know, the air is definitely cleaner here, even for L.A. I feel like I can breathe again,” he said.

 

“You’re right about that,” Ms. Marple agreed as she dropped behind the two and started back towards the office. “Keep heading out. I forgot my purse. Catch up in a jiff.”

 

Back in the office she pulled a brick-sized smart phone from her Gucci handbag.

 

“Double Foxtrot Two to MotherWatch. We’ve got a problem. We’re not the only refugees from another universe here.”

 

All Rights Reserved © March 2022 John J. Vinacci