PREVIOUSLY
2010: Vlad is visited at his workplace by a super fan, they meet for beers
Ep 21: Dragzleroy meets Thordragzia and finds out the Ickmonz and the Wizards are planning to attack
1995: Vlad is losing air time, Silver is scheming, the pilot episode is in production
2010
Two pale ales thudded onto the sticky dive bar table between them. Vlad reached for his beer and took a long swig. A fat, pink tongue popped out of his mouth and ran along his upper lip, scooping up the foam mixed into the thin sheen of sweat there. Eric watched, second-guessing his decision to contact his childhood hero. He noted the man’s sickly pallor.
“You okay? You look pretty pale — even for a white dude.”
“I don’t get out much. How did you find me?” Vlad’s jowls bounced as he spoke quickly, impatiently running his sentences together.
Eric lifted his beer glass from the cardboard coaster and took a drink. He set his glass back down and swallowed.
“I asked the right questions in the right forums.”
Vlad harumphed. “Big fan.”
“Yeah!” Eric brightened. “Me and my girl are your biggest fans. That’s actually why I’m here.” He paused to take a breath. Vlad adjusted his sunglasses and licked his lips again.
“We had kind of a ‘moment’ over Dragotaurz when we first started dating. If it weren’t for Dragzleroy and Thordragzia, I’m not sure we would have made it to the second date.”
Vlad didn’t seem phased. The young man continued unsteadily.
“So, we’re getting married this weekend and we wondered if you’d make an appearance,” he trailed off as he watched Vlad reach for his beer, then got back on track, “Late notice, but it was a helluva time tracking you down. And Silver —”
“Silver’s going to be there?” Vlad choked on his beer. He slammed his glass down and spoke between coughs. “No. I’m not going if he’s going.”
“No, no.” Eric’s eyes widened. He feared losing what little ground he’d made with the older man. “I haven’t been able to find him.”
A scowl passed over Vlad’s face. His companion added in a hopeful tone, “We can pay you.” The scowl deepened.
They sat in a tense silence, sipping their beers. At last, Vlad threw back the rest of his drink and made to leave without a word. He was scooting out of the booth seat when Eric tossed five one-hundred dollar bills on the table. Vlad stopped, assessed the cash, then moved back to the middle of the seat.
“Half now, half at the wedding. Tell me about episode 220.” A new look had taken over Eric’s face. The air of naivety was gone, replaced with determination and cunning.
The swift change to the topic of the episode stabbed a blade honed to razor sharpness by anxiety into Vlad’s chest. “What the fuck is this?” he spat.
The younger man shrugged and relaxed back into the booth. “Just drinks with a fan who wants the inside scoop.”
Between them, the bribe sat like a loaded gun. Vlad needed the cash, but didn’t want to get mixed up in anything that could get him blacklisted from the industry — or sued.
He signaled the waitress for another beer. “On his tab,” he nodded at Eric. He reached for the bills and dragged them across the table to his side. Without lifting his hand from the cash, he said matter-of-factly, “I am bound by a legal contract to never acknowledge the existence of that episode.” He swept the bills off the edge of the table and into this jacket pocket.
“What happened that day?” Eric studied Vlad’s face, looking for anything he could gather as a clue toward solving the mystery.
“Like I said —”
Eric cut him off, tapping his index finger on the tabletop as he listed off the facts. “Two hundred and nineteen episodes from 1991 to 1995. Then episode 220 rocks our world out of nowhere, there’s a fire,” — he lets this last word sit for a beat — “the series returns in 1996, without you and Silverio Herrera is voicing both characters. No one can find you. The show is canceled shortly after.” Eric leaned forward and lowered his voice conspiratorially, “What went down all those years ago?”
The intensity with which Eric stared at him took Vlad back to his years of appearances at conventions. Fans always had a tendency to get too bold, too hungry, too entitled. He didn’t like where this was going.
Their beers arrived. Vlad grabbed his icy glass and chugged the entire ale, throat bobbing with each gulp. He set down the mug, belched, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Silver got what he wanted. That’s all I can say.”
A glint of pleasure flashed over Eric’s face. “I’ve seen it. Episode 220.”
Vlad snorted. “Everyone says that.”
“Naw, man. I mean. I’ve seen it,” — a sly smile stretches his mouth — “The original. I have the tape.”
People shuffled past, laughing and complaining about the workday. Glasses clinked and a register chimed, adding a melodic accompaniment to the gritty guitar riffs that droned throughout the interior of the dive bar. Neither man moved as they weighed each other. Eric was too confident for Vlad to question him, but what he claimed was impossible.
“That tape doesn’t exist.” Vlad finally broke his stare and looked about the bar casually. A voice inside his head urged him to leave, but he needed to know more.
“That’s what you think,” Eric countered. He spoke calmly. He knew he had the upper hand. “You tell me everything, and if it’s a good story, I’ll give you the tape.”
The beer in Eric’s glass sloshed and the silverware on the table clinked loudly as Vlad’s fist came down onto the tabletop. Eric recoiled, startled by the sudden reaction. Vlad pointed a trembling finger at him, lips drawn back from his teeth as he fumed silently.
When Eric had recovered from the shock of the outburst, he smiled again, though with a touch of nervousness. “You know I got it. You don’t know how, but you know I do.”
Vlad slammed his hand down again, but this time Eric didn’t flinch. The younger man in a crisp button-down and trendy “nerd” glasses crossed his arms over his chest. “Half now, half after the wedding,” he said smoothly.
“After the wedding?” Vlad growled.
“After the wedding is what I said, old man. Show up, do your thing, be nice to my girl, and you get the tape.”
Vlad cursed under his breath and slid out of the booth. Eric kept his cool demeanor.
“Saturday, 1pm, corner of Maple and Pine, you’ll see it.”
The large man in the squeaky leather jacket reached for Eric’s glass and downed his beer. He didn’t look at the younger man before turning to go. As he reached the door, he heard him shout, “Oh yeah! Wear red, like Dragzleroy.”
Dragotaurz Episode 35
FADE IN
EXT. FRONT OF DRAGZLEROY’S CASTLE - DAY
DRAGZLEROY and THORDRAGZIA stand at the front gates of the castle, watching the Ickmonz retreat across the hills back to the Ickmonz Villages. Other Dragotaurz are in the background.
DRAGZLEROY
You fought with your entire heart
and defended the castle fiercely,
Princess. We are forever grateful
to you and your father, the
King of Valdragga.Thordragzia turns to Drazleroy.
THORDRAGZIA
In our hearts beats the same love
for this land. Valdragga and its
people are safe because of your
courageous pledge to protect
Dragotaurzia. Sun sets. Dragzleroy hesitates. Thordragzia places a hand on his shoulder.
THORDRAGZIA (CONT’D)
These months at your castle have
been the best of my life. I think
I can help Valdragga more if I
stay here with you — and the
other warriors. Thordragzia drops her hand and looks away. Dragzleroy places his fist on his chest.
DRAGZLEROY
It would be an honor to host you
in the castle, Princess. Stay as long
as you wish.
THORDRAGZIA
(smiling)
Then you must call me
Thordragzia from now on.Green Dragotaur flame fireworks explode overhead. Music plays.
FADE OUT
1995, 4:02 PM
Heavy footsteps thundered through the office as Vlad made his way from the recording studio past the cubicles on his right. He kept his eyes trained ahead and ignored the whispers that followed him.
Someone from marketing called after him, “Hey, Vlad, you clean up the booth after you and Silver recorded the other night?” A woman punched the speaker in the arm. Someone else whistled.
“Eat my ass, Ted,” Vlad boomed. Ted laughed.
He continued walking past the boss’s office, not bothering to look inside. As he approached the hovering red exit sign at the back of the building, he noticed Silver standing in the hallway talking to two women from animation.
The lean man turned as Vlad approached, his pomade-slick dark hair reflecting the fluorescent lights in shifting streaks of white. His rich brown eyes were full of friendliness and his teeth showed as he smiled.
“Yo, Vlad! You coming to the party tonight?”
“No.”
“It’s mandatory,” Silver quipped.
Behind both men, in the boss’s office, there was a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass. An incredulous roar exploded through the atmosphere of underpaid staff, beige work stations, and shitty coffee.
“What?! What do you mean?” The boss jammed his head through the doorway and yelled into the common area, “Someone turn on that goddamned TV!”
Across the office, on the other side of the sea of identical desks, someone scrambled to turn on the small TV by the window. Immediately, murmurs rose from the employees. The boss continued shouting profanities into the phone. Vlad and Silver approached the screen slowly, mouths agape. Vlad began to sweat.
“Oh, no. Shit. Fuck. No, no, no.”
The faces of his coworkers turned toward him as he neared the screen. Bodies moved aside, like the parting of a quiet, cringe-filled ocean, to let him through.
“Christ, almighty,” came Silver’s curse from behind Vlad.
A cold, hollow feeling settled along Vlad’s nervous system as he uttered the one sentence that sent the entire fifth floor of William & Brown Studios into utter chaos: “They switched the tapes.”
On the screen, two mythical half-human, half-dragon creatures (human torso for the front half, front legs, back legs, and tail of a dragon in the rear) were discussing hierarchy and treachery amidst the bloody corpses of Wizards. This content was far from the regular 4 PM kids’ version of Dragotaurz that was supposed to be airing at that hour.
Time slowed to a crawl as Vlad and Silver joined their devoted young fans on the West Coast in watching what followers would later refer to as “episode 220” for the first and (most likely) last time. The boss could still be heard raging in his office. Everyone had scattered to separate conference rooms, break rooms, or the parking lot —anything to avoid the awkward situation.
Silver laid a gentle hand on Vlad’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay,” he croaked.
Vlad slapped his hand away and spun to face him. “Don’t touch me!”
Silver stepped back, hands in the air. “Whoa! Okay. I get it. You’re mad, but you don’t have to be an asshole — this affects me too, you know.”
With one of his pink fingers jabbed into Silver’s chest, Vlad bellowed, “We wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t tried to steal the show from me!”
Something popped and began to sizzle within the television set, but the two men didn’t notice. Silver lowered his hands and leaned into Vlad’s finger as he laughed bitterly.
“Give me a break! The show was a flop! I saved it from being canceled in the first season!”
“Bullshit! Dragzleroy didn’t need Thordragzia!”
“Yeah, your white ass would like to believe that!”
“Oh, the race card! You were supposed to be a minor character!”
A green glow began to emit from the old TV, wavering as the characters on the screen came together in a fit of passion.
“Everyone loves me!” Silver shrugged and raised his eyebrows in a patronizingly innocent expression.
“I hate you!”
One green flame rose from behind the set and tested the air, looking for more to consume.
Silver shoved Vlad hard in the chest. Vlad rushed him in response and reached for his throat. The small man held back the massive hands aimed for his neck. He grunted and spat through his teeth, “I brought life to this dump! I saved” — Vlad jostled him — “this…studio!”
“All so you could stab me in the back!” Vlad’s voice reached a higher pitch as he struggled to grab Silver.
As the Dragotaurz moaned with pleasure from deep within the Wizard caves, the green flame that had sprouted from the television bloomed, framing the scene in a brilliant dancing light.
Silver gave up fighting and let Vlad’s grip encircle his throat. Vlad wanted to squeeze the life out of his co-star, but he couldn’t do it. As the fire burned behind them, an inferno of equal proportions blazed in their eyes.
“Tell me why you think I owe you shit,” Silver whispered, “Huh?” He leaned closer to Vlad, who only growled in response. “What do you think is going on here, Vladimir?” Silver’s eyes searched his, asking a question and providing the answer all at once.
Green heat flashed suddenly, releasing a searing storm of neon into the office space. Vlad lost consciousness in the explosion.
Map of Dragotaurzia made with Inkarnate
Duuuude! This is so epic. I literally see this playing out in my mind like a show/movie. I love this. Your writing is so immersive.
I can see it. The badcent, the street where carts zoom by, people with
Clipboards and half in costume walk past. Just another day another exec's Powder fueled rage. All the while one of TV'S greatest secrets is rolling.