You’re Next

Max

     Max stepped on the stage holding his pencil thin microphone, smiling his perfect smile. “Yesterday was light snow. The station was flooded with calls. Light snow was a big inconvenience. People hated driving in it. Hated having to close up their summer fun shops. Not heavy enough for anyone to get an extra day off. Just tragic.” The recorded studio audience booed. His smile had faded. It seemed he lost himself in thought for a moment. 

     He walked over to the wheel. The peg was still sitting on light snow. “Folks, we have a new weather pattern to add to the wheel today.” He pointed at the new pendent, “fire tornado.” The fake audience gasped. “Here is our lovely state meteorologist Becky to explain what a fire tornado is.”

     Becky walked onto the stage with a skin tight, very short, blue sequined dress on with matching four inch heels. “Hi folks,” she squealed, then giggled. “Fire tornadoes are rare atmospheric tornado events. They have tornado-strength much like a traditional tornado.*” She nodded, “hmmm hum. Now, it’s possible most of us will not see the fire tornado. However, it will be really hot. There will be thick smoke. Many of the oldies might need to stay inside or use respirators when outside.” She giggled. “Hmmm hum.”

     The camera panned back to Becky. She stepped aside as Max walked around to stand beside her; handing her the microphone. “Well folks, it’s my turn to spin the wheel. It’s been five years for me. Academy, keep pumping out those babies.” He smiled his wide perfect smile. 

     “Thank you Becky.” Max smiled. 

     “Hmmm hum.” The camera panned off her. 

     “Well, there you have it folks, a fire tornado.”

     Becky giggled. “Hmmm hum.”

     He spun the wheel hard. It whirled around and around. Becky handed him the microphone back. “Last time I spun this wheel, we got light rain. Not a bad spin. Can I do it again?”

Click

Click

Click

     “I think you tried to rip the wheel off the stand.” Becky giggled. “Hmmmm hum.”

     Click

     Click

     Click

     Max felt his knees give way. His voice failed him. 

     “Oh Max,” Becky filled the silence. 

     “Well folks,” he cleared his throat. “Tomorrow, Academy will be hit with a Category 5 Hurricane.” He buckled to the stage. “I’m so sorry.“ the fake audience booed wildly. 

     “Oh Max,” Becky tried to console him. Her efforts were fruitless. 

     Sirens started blaring as the camera went black. 

    Max collected himself and pushed his way outside. If he was lucky, the hurricane would kill him. After this, he wouldn’t have a job. How could he face Academy after this? Hunks of debris flew past him. The wind and rain tore at him like wild animals. “Please.” He murmured. The water rose quickly, covering his shoes. Trees bent down and kissed the ground repeatedly. 

     Max hugged a street sign. The pounding rain him burnt his skin. Did he really want to die? Worse events had happened to Academy. This wasn’t his fault. He screamed at the storm, “this isn’t my fault.”

     Max walked onto the stage, soaking wet with his clothing torn, microphone in hand. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered. A pool of water collected around his feet. The voices inside his head told him, ‘no one died’. All of his strength left him but he made himself repeat the report. “No one was killed.” It came out as a whisper. Once he realized no one had died, he was able to say it louder. “No one was killed due to Hurricane Max. There was a lot of property damage but no one died. He raised his eyes to the ceiling, “no one died.”