The Day After

The following takes place following: The Battle of Waldomere

The Master turns up at the newspaper office to find the main floor in chaos — empty alcohol bottles, loose clothing, feathers, and broken furniture scattered everywhere. He steps carefully through the carnage and pushes open the door to Travers’ office, which is in no better state.

Travers is slumped in his chair, half-asleep. His shirt is ripped open, a thong sticks out of his breast pocket, and his tie is tied around his head like a bandana. An obvious five o’clock shadow clings to his jaw.

Master Devlin: "Good lord, Travers... what the fuck happened here? This place is a disgrace."

Travers groans and clutches his head.

Travers: "Not so loud, Master Devlin... We uh... hrrmm. We went out for some drinks... hit the Sasshole... and, well, looks like we had a little afterparty. It's a little foggy, to be honest."

Master Devlin: "We? Who's we?"

Travers: "Me, Travers! And our newest employee... Jeremy Kyle. That guy can party, let me tell ya..."

Master Devlin: "Jeremy Kyle's joined the team? Really? Where is he?"

Travers: "Dunno. He should be around here somewhere."

Ermintrude walks in carrying Travers' coffee and his morning paper.

Ermintrude: "Good morning, everyone! Here's your morning copy, Mr Travers..."

She places the paper down on his desk.

Travers: "Thank you, my dear."

Travers ignores the front page and immediately turns to page 3 to find a topless picture of Ermintrude herself.

Travers: "Ah. Beautiful."

He lifts up the paper to show everyone in the office. Ermintrude blushes slightly.

Travers: "No need to be bashful. You make us all very proud, my dear. You’re a national treasure!"

Master Devlin: "Aren’t you going to read the top story?"

Travers: "Hrmm. Maybe later. Why don’t you just tell me what it says while I enjoy this page some more..."

Master Devlin: "I wrote it myself, then came in late last night to give it to the night staff. Seeing as you weren’t here, I took the liberty of approving it myself... It’s a firsthand account of the riot and subsequent battle after I defended the council from the Witherfieldians..."

Wally Walchak walks in.

wF: "Uh huh. Thanks to Wiffuhuh!"

Master Devlin: "YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"

wF: "Wha?"

Master Devlin: "Hundreds are dead because of you!"

The Master grabs Waldo by the throat and raises a fist.

Travers: "No, Master Devlin! That’s our star reporter."

The Master reluctantly drops Waldo.

Master Devlin: "Oh, whatever. I don’t care anymore."

The Master sits down.

wF: "Yeah... thought as much, pizza. The masta acts like he's all cross and stuff—"

The Master suddenly becomes infuriated again and, without hesitation, punches Waldo, sending him flying out the five-storey window.

The Master shakes off his rage.

Master Devlin: "That feels so much better!"

Waldo immediately pops out a filing cabinet.

wF: "...but truth is, that's the most fun he's had in years..."

The Master covers his face and screams into his hands in fury.

wF: "Don’t burst a gasket, Pasty. We make a good team, y'know. Wiffuhuh creates the news, Masta writes it!"

There’s a groan from under Travers’ desk.

Master Devlin: “What was that?”

Travers: “Probably just the house settling...”

A terribly hungover Jeremy Kyle climbs out from behind the desk. His shirt is ripped, but he’s missing his trousers and underwear. His penis is at eye level with Travers, who doesn’t even notice. A couple of half-naked girls also emerge, climbing out and wordlessly heading toward the door.

Jeremy bends down to pull up his pants — then promptly vomits on the desk and on Travers, who’s too out of it to react.

Jeremy wipes his face, then extends his hand toward the Master to introduce himself.

Suddenly, Dr. Shawn walks in.

Dr. Shawn: “Goodness. What’s going on in here?”

wF: “Staff meeting!”

Dr. Shawn: “I see. Well, Mr. Travers, here’s my latest column.”

She hands the paper to Travers, who barely glances at it before placing it to the side.

Travers: “Thanks, doc...”

She waits a moment, hoping for more, but realizes she’s not going to get it.

Dr. Shawn: “…Very well. I’ll leave you to it then.”

Dr. Shawn leaves, followed by Jeremy. As they step out, a fifty-something, slightly heavyset woman in a cleaning outfit walks into the office.

Master Devlin: “Ahh, good morning, Helen. Everybody, this is Helen — she’s the cleaner. Apologies, Helen, but Mr. Kyle has had a bit of an accident on Mr. Travers’ desk and chair.”

Helen: “That’s quite alright, these things happen. I’ll take care of it.”

Master Devlin: “Also, it appears Mr. Travers had a party of some kind on the main office floor, which unfortunately left quite a mess.”

Helen: (tuts) “Well, I hope Mr. Travers keeps these parties to a minimum.”

Master Devlin: “I’ll make sure he does, Helen — won’t you, Travers?”

Travers: “No... I’m the editor. I can do whatever I want.”

Helen gives Travers a cross, unimpressed, motherly stare. Travers looks up and recoils, visibly intimidated by her.

Travers: “I mean... yes, ma’am. I’ll try...”

Helen: “Good.”

Helen leaves to clean the main office floor.

Travers pours himself a little hair of the dog.

Master Devlin: “Delightful woman.”

Travers: “I suppose... not bad. Kinda milfy in a way. Think she’ll do page 3?”

The Master laughs out loud.

Master Devlin: “You can certainly try. I’d like to see you try — that woman would tear you to shreds.”

Travers: “I’ll get her some flowers.”

Master Devlin: “I think she’d appreciate that. Though I doubt she planned to start her day cleaning up your ‘Travers liquids’ off the office equipment.”

Travers: “Oh, by the way, Master Devlin. Sorry to say your Jazz Bar in Witherfield got hit pretty hard... We passed by it on the way back from the bingo hall — it was completely trashed and smeared with faeces.”

Master Devlin: “Well, not surprising. Frankly, I was thinking of moving it to a nicer area anyway.”

Travers: “Probably for the best. I’m not sure why you ever thought Witherfield was a good spot to set up shop. Anyway… what shall we do now?”

Master Devlin: “We should probably find some news to print in tomorrow’s paper. Walchak, got any news?”

Waldo shakes his head.

Travers: “This constant need for news is tedious.”

Master Devlin: “Yes, well, it is a newspaper, Travers.”

Travers: “I know! What I’m saying is, we’ve done the newspaper thing. Travers made it a success. I say we let the paper run itself now — put it on autopilot. Time to find a new adventure! There’s more to life than work, right, Wally?”

Waldo nods enthusiastically.

Master Devlin: “Very well then.”

Travers: “I wonder what Ed has in store for us next…”

hey all look around, expecting something to happen.

MID SEASON BREAK.

The Waldoverse continues in Dino Crisis