It Makes Perfect Cents!



After one crazy week off, the UWF is in its “Aftershock” phase. No one’s acting as they should…except for the UWF’s own, Zac Hicks. He is relaxing inside of his Boston, Massachusetts mansion. As he sits in his wing-backed chair, he turns his attention from the roaring fire in front of him and focuses it on the window. Blizzard-like weather has made it nearly impossible to see anything. Zac however stands up and walks to the window, staring whole-heartedly. Zac continues to stare, not even flinching as one of his employees drops the book she was carrying. Finally, a man with in a black, butler suit walks over and taps Zac on the shoulder. Butler Excuse me, Master Hicks, but what is so interesting about the outside? Surely, you can’t see anything through the snow…It’s like a large, white blanket is covering up all the windows. Zac Hicks Ah, but you see, the snow is what I am looking at. Do you realize what a winter in Alabama is like? This is the kind of thing that I relish. I never get to see snow when I’m down South, so I like to watch it when I’m up here. Got a problem with that, Andrew? Butler #1 Actually, my name is Jeremy… Zac looks straight at Jeremy. He was in a good mood. Any other day, he would have fired him on the spot. He decides to give him another chance. Zac Hicks What was that? Did you say something, Andrew? Jeremy obviously gets the message to not correct the boss. He begins to slowly back out of the room. Jeremy Ooh, no sir. I don’t have any problem with you watching the snow fall. If you need anything, Mr. Hicks…Let me know. Jeremy turns to leave, but Zac stops him. Zac Hicks Actually, there is something that I’d like for you to do for me. Make arrangements with the UWF to have someone interview me tomorrow morning. I’d like to get some things off of my chest. Make sure they send a competent interviewer as well. I’m not going to speak with a slack-jawed jackoff, let alone have him or her in my house. That just isn’t going to happen. So, Andrew, make this happen for me, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll start calling you by your real name. Got it? Jeremy Ooh, yes sir! You will have your interview first thing in the morning tomorrow. Anything else, Mr. Hicks? Zac Hicks No, that is all for now…Please tell someone to bring me my winter clothes. I’m going to take a walk…It seems to have died down a bit outside. Zac waits a few moments before a second butler returns with everything needed for a trip in the snow: a large, fur coat; insulated snow boots; ear muffs; a crimson red scarf; mittens; and, for some reason, a large walking cane. Zac eyes the cane with a look of confusion. The butler notices this and decides to explain. Butler #2 Sir, if I may explain…The cane is for checking the snow in front of you. You never know what lays under the powdered ice…Holes, bicycles, dead homeless people…All kinds of junk can be under it. It is for your protection, sir. Also, you can beat down all those dirty Puerto Ricans. Zac Hicks It warms my heart to hear that you thought so much for my well being. Now help me get all of this stuff on. After a couple of minutes of working at it, Zac stands at his front door fully clothed. He opens the door and begins his journey into the frozen wonderland outside, checking his path with the walking stick. After a few blocks of walking, the snow picks back up and the scene fades to…white? ~Commercials~ UWF Adrenaline! Chris Spade’s Animal Clinic…Be sure to get your pets Spade or neutered! Andy Titsuhiro’s Topless Bar! Who knows Tits better than Andy? UWF Season’s Beatings ~End of Commercials~ The snow dies back down, but Zac seems to be lost. He stumbles through the icy snow, before setting his eyes on a large mansion. Its gates are open, so Zac heads towards it. A figure, wrapped up tighter than a black man’s penis sits in front of the door, beating the snow with a stick. Zac watches, puzzled, at the figure continuously beat the snow. Zac walks up to the person, tapping the wooden stairs lightly with his walking stick. Zac Hicks Excuse me, old woman… The figure looks up, revealing himself to be male. Person I’m a man. Zac Hicks Man, sorry…Who lives in this mansion? Person I’m thirty-seven. Zac Hicks What? Person I’m thirty-seven…I’m not old. Zac Hicks Well, I can’t just call you “man”. Person You could have called me “Dennis”. Zac Hicks Well, I didn’t know your name was Dennis… Dennis Well, you didn’t bother to find out, now did you? Zac Hicks Well, I did say sorry for calling you an old woman, but from behind you looked… Dennis What I object to is how you automatically treat me like I am inferior to you. Zac Hicks Well, I am rich after all… Dennis Oh, rich eh? Very nice. And how'd you get rich, eh? By exploiting the workers. By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma which perpetuates the economic and social differences in our society. The fact of the matter… Suddenly, the door of the mansion opens and an old man in a smoker jacket stands in the foyer. He looks down at Dennis and Zac. Rich Guy That’s enough, Dennis. Stop berating the guests with all of your worries and problems. And for the love of God, stop hitting the snow with a stick. You look like a bloody loony! There was definitely a British accent to the man. Zac extends his hand as he climbs up the stairs. Zac Hicks Good day, sir. My name is Zac Hicks and I live…well…somewhere around here. The snow storm has cut me off from my home, however and I don’t know how to get back. Would you mind if I used your phone? I left my cell phone at the mansion. Rich Guy Mansion, you say? Ah, you must be Perkins’s grandson. He and I are old friends. Heck, I’m the reason you’re a billionaire, my boy. Without my advice, your grandfather would still be in a beaten up old house in Alabama. Come in, come in! We rich folk have to stick together! Zac Hicks I appreciate it, sir. I didn’t catch your name though. Rich Guy Bradshaw. Jack Bradshaw. Jack stands back to allow Zac passage into the illustrious home. The door closes and the scene fades to black as Dennis resumes his never-ending duty of beating the snow with a stick.