The Interview

The following takes place following: Enter the Edverse: Part Three

The Master and Travers arrive at the Waldopolis Chronicle building. They approach the front desk, where a grumpy-looking slug creature with oversized glasses sits — curiously similar to the one they encountered earlier at the DRG building.

Master Devlin: "Um… Good day. We're here to see the Editor-in-Chief, Mr. White."

Receptionist: "Do you have an appointment?"

Master Devlin: "No, but tell him it’s Master Devlin and former mayor Harris Travers. He’ll want to see us."

The receptionist scowls at Travers, who’s pacing around reception, running his fingers along the furniture, inspecting dust.

Receptionist: "The same Harris Travers who nearly made us lose our jobs and livelihoods during his tyrannical episode as 'Emperor'?"

Master Devlin: "Yes… the very same, unfortunately."

The receptionist grumbles, picks up the phone, and presses a button.

Receptionist: "Mr. White, I have Master Devlin and… Harris Travers here to see you."

Mr. White (through phone): "HARRIS TRAVERS?! What is that son of a bitch doing here? …Fine. Send them up."

Receptionist: "Mr. White will see you now. Fifth floor, end of the hall."

The Master and Travers head for the lift.

Receptionist: "Elevator's out of order… you'll have to take the stairs."

Travers shakes his head in disapproval.

Travers: "This whole place is out of turn... Well, a little exercise will do us some good, I suppose..."

Travers immediately climbs onto the Master's shoulder and gestures for him to proceed.

They reach the fifth floor. The newsroom is quiet and deflated — staff glance at them with tired eyes. At the end of the hall, they arrive at the office. Editor-in-Chief Perry White stands to greet them.

Mr. White: "Master Devlin, it's a pleasure to meet you. Perry White, Editor-in-Chief here at the Chronicle."

He glances at Travers with disdain, who is wandering around his office shaking his head.

Mr. White: "…Although I admit, I’m a little puzzled as to why you brought this miserable bastard. You realise that during his time as 'emperor', he nearly burned this place to the ground with that pet beast of his, then he shut us down for weeks... As you can see, we haven’t exactly recovered — morale or otherwise."

Master Devlin: "Yes, unfortunately, I served as his Chief of Staff during that regrettable period. His time as mayor did, in fact, drive him quite mad — though I assure you, he’s since reformed. As such, he’s now in need of gainful employment. I understand there’s a vacancy here, and thought perhaps Travers might be a suitable — if unconventional — candidate. The Master’s Council would, of course, offer compensation through our work placement initiative."

White erupts into hysterical laughter for several seconds before stopping suddenly at the sight of the Master’s unamused visage.

Mr. White: "Wait, you're serious?? The guy's a maniac!"

The laughter catches Travers’ attention.

Travers: "You bet your lily-white ass he’s serious."

The little goblin in his cheap charity shop suit marches up to Mr. White.

Travers: "It’s quite simple, Mr. White... I'm looking for a new line of work. To contribute! Give something back to this city as part of my redemption arc. And before you go pointing fingers, let’s not forget your paper wrote some very uncharitable things about me."

Mr. White: "With all due respect, Mr. Travers, nothing we reported was false. You bankrupted the city, lost your mind as mayor, whored around, and went on endless drunken tirades. You just couldn’t handle the truth."

Master Devlin: "He has a point, Travers."

Travers: "I said uncharitable, not untrue. Besides, I’m reformed. I have an addiction, it’s true, but I’m on the wagon now. This is a new chapter for Travers, as I said. I will give back to this town! Make Waldonians adore Travers again — as the new Editor-in-Chief of the Waldopolis Chronicle."

Mr. White: "New Editor-in-Chief? Son, the position is for a Managing Editor, reporting directly to me..."

Travers: "No deal. I'm not interested in that position, Mr. White. I’m here for your job."

Mr. White: "Ha ha ha... My job! That's a good one..."

Travers: "I'm quite serious, Mr. White."

Mr. White: "What, are you nuts? Why the hell would I give you my job?"

Travers: "At this rate, you're not going to have a job for much longer either way. The fact of the matter is, you're in desperate need of fresh blood to save this sinking ship of a newspaper, and that new blood comes in the very handsome form of one Harris John Travers — national treasure."

Master Devlin: "Travers, what are you..."

Travers: "As you know, I ran a legal firm for many years. I'm quite sure I can run a newspaper. Besides, Master Devlin here will surely help out! Keep an eye on things..."

Master Devlin: "I will?"

Travers: "Frankly, Mr. White, you have nothing to lose as long as you can set aside your pride — as I have. So, what do you say, pal?"

Mr. White sighs.

Mr. White: "Mr. Travers, I have absolutely no intention of allowing you to turn this newspaper into some sleazy platform where you get to bolster your own self-image. Besides, knowing you, you’ll probably put tits on every second page."

Travers: "Don’t be absurd. I'm thinking three or four pages to begin with. Ease the readers into the new direction."

Mr. White: "I was being sarcastic."

Travers: "I’m not! My first act as editor to get this paper back on its feet is indeed tits. I'm thinking pages 3, 7, and 12 to start with. In fact, I intend to send a talent-scouting team out on the streets right away."

Mr. White: "For God’s sake, man, this is a respectable broadsheet newspaper! The oldest and most beloved in the nation! Not some pornographic tabloid!"

Travers: "It is now. Only better."

Master Devlin: "Travers, why is this necessary?"

Travers: "Because I like tits! Tits are great. Everyone likes tits — except bitter feminists and fags. TITS are NECESSARY!"

Master Devlin: "So you want it to just be pornography?"

Travers: "No... Of course not. We're also going to have real investigative journalism! Hard-hitting stuff. Like that Spotlight movie!"

Master Devlin: "But with tits?"

Travers: "Exactly! I knew you'd get it, Master Devlin. Picture it now: Hard-hitting headlines on the front page. Political exposés. Shameless celebrity gossip on the next. Then tits, tits, and more tits!"

Perry White and Master Devlin just stare at Travers in disbelief.

Mr. White: "Reformed, huh?"

Travers: "Our readers can have it all! It's time you faced facts, Mr. White — your day is passed. We're competing with the information superhighway now. Printed media has to adapt or die. Now, I know Waldonians. I know what they want. This..."

Travers holds up a copy of the current Chronicle.

Travers: "...This stuffy, pretentious bullshit — it ain't it!"

Mr. White goes quiet, staring at his hands.

Travers: "Sorry to give it to you cold like that, old timer, but you needed to hear that... It's okay... You've done your job admirably. But it's time to hand over the reins. The common man is crying out for something... A real newspaper to represent their interests. Not wine aunts and cat ladies who write The Waldonian or Widpo... They have nothing but contempt for the common man! Under my stewardship, the Chronicle will once again be the most popular paper in the entire nation, and we’ll all be on easy street... Mark my words..."

Mr. White: "You know, it's almost thirty-five years to the day I've been here... Watched this town change. Watched this paper bleed." He glances around his cluttered office, bitter.

Mr. White: "Gave the best years of my life to this place. And for what? Readership's dead, ad money’s vanished, and my best reporters write listicles for food delivery apps now...I don't know even understand what that is!"

Mr. White takes some scotch out of his drink cabinet and pours himself a glass and swallows it down.

Mr. White: "I don’t believe for a second that you understand the common man, Mr. Travers. You bankrupted most of them. You’ll ruin this place too, I'm sure... But what the hell.. If you want to take the wheel of a sinking ship...Be my guest."

Mr. White throws the keys on his desk.

Mr. White: "I am retiring effective immediately."

Travers: "Good man..."

White packs up a box of his stuff and carries it to the door. He stops next to Master Devlin.

Mr. White: "God help us..."

He leaves. Travers hops into the Editor's chair and puts his feet up on the desk. The Master is in disbelief.

Master Devlin: "Umm... What just happened?"

Travers: "I got the job of course... As if there was any doubt."

Master Devlin: "Do you have any idea how to run a newspaper business?"

Travers: "How hard can it be? Delegation is the name of the game, Master Devlin... Speaking of which, as your first act as Deputy Editor, kindly inform the staff that we're having a meeting tomorrow morning to discuss the new direction."

Master Devlin: "Me?? This is your thing! What do you need me for?"

Travers lights a cigar.

Travers: "Moral and spiritual support. Also, you're my sponsor — and master. Someone needs to keep an eye on Travers, remember? Make sure he doesn't go all wacko again..."

Master Devlin: "I’m starting to feel like your Chief of Staff again."

Travers: "Glad we're on the same page."

The Waldoverse continues in Nu(de) Direction