Random Place News

The camera flickers on, revealing a tall man wearing a suit that looked a couple of sizes too small. He has a microphone in his hand and is grinning widely at the camera. Next to him stands an equally tall man, wearing casual clothing that makes them look much more put together than their suited counterpart. They lean forward towards the camera, a small smile on their face.

“Hello everyone, and welcome to Random Place News! I’m your host and lead reporter, Dave!”

“And I’m your other host and secondary reporter, Vince! And we—” The suited man—Dave—steps on their foot, their smile widening excitedly. Vince sends them a disgruntled look, which Dave clearly does not notice, waving his arms to capture the focus of the camera.

“And we are excited to tell you that today, we actually have something to report!! There is a…” Dave lowers his voice dramatically, looking side to side as if delivering a dangerous secret. “Disturbance at the gates.” Vince nudges in front of Dave, forcing him to share the focus of the camera. 

“BUT first, here is a clip from a few minutes ago, for some much-needed context.” 

Dave sighs, stepping aside. “Yes, yes, play the clip.”

The clip plays, caught from a slightly more grainy outside camera on a building. A woman with braided hair sprints through the Random Place gates, screeching to a stop on a soft patch of grass in the shade. As she stands there bent over, her hands on her knees and panting heavily, a man with a badge on his chest that says ‘RPPD’ (Random Place Police Department) walks up to her and gently taps her on the shoulder. She jumps, fear crossing her face at the sight of his police uniform. He smiles kindly and holds out a glass of water. 

“Would you like some? It’s quite a warm day to be sprinting through the desert.” The woman hesitates, then takes the cup and sniffs it. The policeman laughs. “You won’t be finding any poison here! Go ahead. Drink.” She looks at him with slightly narrowed eyes, then mutters something under her breath that sounds like “Oh, who cares?” and downs the whole glass. They wipe their mouth and sink to the ground, looking exhausted. The policeman sits down next to her, pulling out an iPad.

“Feeling better?” The woman looks at him, then at the town around her. 

“Yes. Yes, I think I am.” He smiles. 

“Well then! I have a few questions for you, if you don’t mind…?” The woman nods, and the policeman crosses his legs, turning to face her. “First, the basics. What is your name?” She looks away, fidgeting with her braid.

“Myr. Myr… QueVont.” He nods, typing something into his iPad. 

“Criminal/non-criminal?” Myr freezes, then looks back at his askance.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A Random Place question. We want to know the nature of our people’s pasts! It’s quite simple, really.” The policeman looks up from the iPad. “If it makes you feel better, my name’s Will.” Myr shakes her head, looking bemused and a little dazed.

“Well, Will, the answer is definitely criminal.” Will types something more into his iPad, then presses what one can assume is enter. 

“Alright. Let me look you up… let’s see here…” He scrolls on his screen for a few seconds. “Ah! Here you are! Myr QueVont, thirty-one years old… Serial killer…” He scrolls some more. “...Killed 52 people, injured 108…” Myr winces, but Will keeps scrolling, seemingly uninterested and unbothered by the information he is reading. “Ah! Here we go… ‘Contrary to her status as a serial killer, Myr QueVont gives off the impression of someone who would never hurt a fly. Before committing the crimes that now define her, QueVont was a beloved kindergarten teacher and florist who was always available for those around her.’” Will smiles and stands up, tucks his iPad under his arm, and helps her up. “You are very welcome here, Myr. Kindness is our only requirement.” Myr takes his hand, looking bewildered but grateful. The crowd of Placians (as people who live in Random Place are called) that had gathered over their conversation cheers, and she jumps a little, then smiles and pulls a bunch of flowers from her bag.

“Flowers, anyone?” The people smile at her, coming up and grabbing flowers, making small talk. Myr is just starting to look less on edge when a man wearing a badge that says GPD (Government Police Department) comes barrelling through the gates, screeching to a stop at the sight of Myr handing out flowers. The camera zooms in on his face, the grainy image barely making out his confused and horrified expression. Then he points a finger at Myr, the camera zooming out to take in the whole scene.

“SHE’S A SERIAL KILLER!! GET HER!!!” A screech of feedback rings through the camera audio at the volume of his voice, and a little square appears in the corner of the screen to show Dave and Vince wincing at the noise. The Placians all stare blankly at the GDP policeman. A teenager rolls their eyes.

“So?”

The video freezes, and the little square in the corner of the screen becomes bigger till it fills the whole thing. Dave smiles, straightening his tie.

“And there you have it, folks! A disturbance… from the GDP! A truly exciting piece of news!” Vince smiles tightly, placing a hand on Dave’s shoulder.

“Yes, exciting indeed! We also send our well wishes to Myr QueVont, our newest inhabitant, that her time here won’t start out on the wrong foot!” Dave pushes Vince’s hand away, then nods.

“Of course, of course! Well wishes!” He pauses, then beams. “Soon, we will be heading to the gates to investigate this disturbance first-hand! I can’t wait! Can you, Vince?” Dave leans on Vince, putting a long arm around his shoulders. Vince sends him another disgruntled look, and Dave sees it this time, hurriedly stepping out of Vince’s space.

“I can’t wait, either, Dave, but we have to, and so do you!” Vince points at the camera, then waves with a slightly forced smile. “See you at the gates… after this break!”

With a click, the screen shifts to a cozy-looking scene with two big armchairs, one green and one blue, a fireplace—complete with fire—, and soft, blue-grey painted walls. Jaunty jazz music plays softly in the background. Two people occupy the chairs, sitting with their ankles primly crossed in mirror images of each other. The one in the blue chair smiles, brushes a lock of yellow hair out of their face, and waves softly at the camera, while the green chair’s occupant polishes their lilac-framed glasses, placing them neatly on the bridge of their nose. 

“Hello, and welcome to this commercial break.” The lilac-glassed one says, their voice soft, almost lulling. “My name is Crue, my partner with the yellow hair and sunny complexion is Rai, and we are most pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

The one with yellow hair—Rai—smiles gently. “We are representatives of Security Organization For Time, or SOFT, and we are here with a reminder for all those in this little desert town—and those out of it.” 

At that, Rai and Crue stand up, their movements gracefully in sync, and take a step closer to the camera. They speak at the same time, voices warm and eyes kind. “We know life can be hard, but there is always something to hold on to, be it the kindness of others, the joy of a hobby, or just the simple joy of reading a good story. Sometimes, one finds themselves in a random spot…”

“But what makes it truly random is the level of expectation for you, dear listeners and readers, to be there,” Rai says, walking, almost drifting, closer to Crue’s side. Crue nods, their smile never wavering. 

“For example…” Crue waves a gentle hand, and the background shimmers, changing to the front yard of a house with a white picket fence and a well-manicured lawn. “If you are in your own home, relaxing on a Saturday morning, that is not random. That is expected.” They wave their hand again, and the background shifts to a school classroom with a window open, bird song, and sunlight pouring through. Rai takes a deep breath of the fresh air, then looks at the camera.

“If you are at your lovely school, learning and growing, during the week, that is not random. That is expected.” They both step toward each other, meeting in the perfect middle of the camera’s focus. They hold each other’s hands, once again speaking with perfect synchronicity. 

“Expected is the defining rule of many worlds, his world, her world, their world, your world, if we’re not mistaken…” Their smiles grow more genuine. “But not ours. The random is the life of the inbetween, the place where all can grow, can breathe. When random is the standard, who minds for your past? It’s only the present, the Now, the Moment, the future, the When, the Days, that truly matter.” They both hold up their hands, and the chairs and blue-grey painted room reappear in a subtle shimmer of light. They sit back down in their respective chairs, smile one last time, and then, like a string being cut, the screen goes dark.

The newsroom camera flickers on to reveal Dave and Vince staring at a now-black monitor, looking confused but also deeply touched and inspired. A person behind the camera clears their throat, and Dave jumps, spinning around with a quick smile and a hand tucked casually in a pocket. Vince just turns around, muttering something about “jumpy” and “these antics.” Dave steps directly in front of Vince.

“Wellcommme baaaaack to your regular news broadcast! My, Vince, was that an educational commercial! It felt as if they were addressing a higher entity beyond the edges of our universe!!” Dave puts his hands on his hips, looking out into the ether as if he can see something. The camera zooms to the side of Dave, and Vince steps out from behind him, smoothing his suit—and his professional smile—back into place. 

“Yes, it quite was, Dave! And now, it’s time for the moment you’ve been waiting for!” Dave smiles, and they grin at each other, then shout at the same time into the camera.

 “LIVE INVESTIGATION!!!” A gasp of surprise echoes through the camera’s audio receivers, and it falls to the floor with a screech of feedback. 

“Ah, moonbuckets.” A deep voice whispers, a hand coming into view before the screen fades slowly to black.

“And we’re FINALLY at the gates!” Dave sweeps an arm out to indicate the gates and nearly hits Vince, who ducks with a sigh. “Those nasty little technical difficulties, am I right, Vince?” Vince smiles, perfect and professional, and nods.

“Indeed, Dave! Although I personally would not categorize having to temporarily replace a camera with a discount roving eye as a ‘little’ technical difficulty, I will say it sure is nasty!” Dave opens his mouth as if to say something, but is interrupted by the GDP officer stomping up behind them. He looks into the eye and pales. 

“Is—is that a floating eye?” Dave laughs, nodding.

“What, never seen one before? We lost a camera, what do you expect us to do, replace it with another camera like that?” He snaps his fingers on the word ‘that,’ smiling at the police officer, who stares at him in absolute disgust. 

“How does it even—even record audio?!” The GDP officer throws up his hands. “It’s an eye!” Dave opens his mouth, then freezes. He looks at someone behind the camera and whispers,

“Uhh—do you know how it works?” The same deep voice from earlier speaks, laced with amusement. 

“No, Dave. It’s a discount eye. It didn’t come with an instruction manual." Dave smiles and nods, turning back to the officer. 

“No one knows, officer! It’s… a mystery!” He wiggles his fingers around in the air, nearly poking the eye in its pupil. Vince sighs again, then straightens Dave’s slightly crooked, bright yellow tie before holding his microphone up to his mouth.

“Now that that’s cleared up, we have some questions for you, outsider!” The GDP officer sputters, and Dave shoves his microphone in his face. Vince keeps talking, though his smile tightens a tad. “The first one being simple: What is your name?” The GDP officer sighs.

“Fine. My name’s Adrian Pike. Now let me arrest the serial killer before she kills someone.” Officer Pike reaches for the handcuffs on his belt. Dave grabs his hand. 

“Whoa there, buddy, Adrian, pal, we have more questions for you! You can’t just walk off!” Dave whirls the policeman around, and the eye moves back with a sharp blink to avoid being sent flying by flailing limbs. The footage goes grainy as the eye squints, and the deep-voiced cameraman murmurs,

"It's just Dave being… Well, Dave, and… I’m here, bud.” The footage slowly, slowly starts to clear, revealing Dave throwing questions at Officer Pike, who is frantically dodging and getting redder and redder in the face every time one of the questions smacks him in the face. Vince is leaning against a wall, looking exhausted, and the camera moves closer to him, giving him a little nudge. Vince looks startled for a second, but then his face softens into something that’s almost a smile. He stands up, fixes his professional smile into place, and intercepts Dave with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Dave, we should ask the man questions! Throwing them is frowned upon since you broke that window last weekend, remember?” Dave freezes, the question he’s holding—“Why won’t you leave her alone?”—dissipating. He stands straighter, dusting off his hands.

“Right, right! Of course!” He walks over to Officer Pike and helps him up. “Sorry ‘bout that, Officer! Old habits die hard, if you know what I mean!” The GDP officer glares at him, yanking his hand out of Dave’s grip. 

“No, I don’t know what you mean. This town is broken and needs to be fixed. Harboring criminals, showing aggression towards law enforcement—"

“You’re law enforcement?” Dave looks genuinely confused. Officer Pike stutters, then smacks himself in the forehead.

“YES, I’m law enforcement! I’m a police officer. Never heard of one of those?!” Vince nods. 

“Of course we have! We have the RPPD. Dave here’s just confused because you’re not one of them!” Pike blinks. 

“The… RPPD?” 

Dave laughs. “Yes, yes!” He turns around. “Hey! Officer Will! Could we borrow you for a sec?” Officer Will looks up from where he and Myr were doing a puzzle with two other Placians, and smiles sympathetically at the GDP officer before standing up and walking over.

“Hello! My name is Will! It is very nice to meet y—”

“Enough with the niceties! What kind of policeman are you, to allow all this?” Officer Pike pokes a finger into Will’s face. Will gently pushes it away, smiling gently.

“I am a policeman of Random Place, Officer. Here, the only requirement is kindness.” The other man freezes.

“The… only requirement?” Officer Will nods.

“Indeed! This town is meant to be a sanctuary for everyone, no matter their past qualifications.” Dave nods in agreement, and Vince glances nervously at Pike, who looks like he is going to kill Officer Will. 

“That. That. Is not—That is not how this works. Kindness—that’s a personality aspect, not a deciding factor. You—” The GDP officer points a stunner at Will. “You don’t deserve to be called a police officer.” Everyone (including those in the background) freezes. Officer Will smiles softly. 

“I see. Well then, I believe you should leave, Officer.”

Pike narrows his eyes. “Was that a threat?” 

Will shakes his head, placing a hand on Pike’s shoulder. “No, Officer. Only a recommendation.” Officer Pike shakes his head.

“No. I am not leaving until Myr QueVont comes with me and pays for her crimes!” The eye turns to look at Myr, who looks up from winding desert lilies into her braid. She sighs quietly.

“That was ten years ago.” Dave swoops in, gently poking Officer Pike in the back.

“Alright, alright, you heard the man, Officer! You are causing a disturbance on a very peaceful day, and now it’s time to leave!” Officer Pike starts to fight him, then stops, and turns on his heel, sprinting towards the gates. The three of them, Officer Will, Dave, and Vince, stand there, watching the GDP officer trip and faceplant into the sand. Will has a water bottle in his hand. The eye boops his hand, and he laughs, turning around.

“Well, hello there, little eye. Do you require assistance?” The view on the screen tilts upward, focusing on Will’s face. A questioning, purr-like sound reverberates through the eye. The deep-voiced cameraman laughs.

“I think the little guy’s feelin’ dry, Officer.” Will smiles and unscrews the lid to the bottle, leaning down to the eye’s level. 

“Here, have some. I have plenty.” The water droplets appear to splash onto the screen, and the slight blurriness that had permeated the edges of the video fades. Another purr-like sound reverberates, this one happy. Dave and Vince, having since turned around, smile at the sight. Dave clears his throat.

“Well, I suppose that’s that, then?” Vince glances at Myr over Officer Will’s shoulder, his smile changing to something absolutely sincere and relieved.

“Yes, Dave. ‘That’s that,’ indeed.”