David is Cassidy’s only child, bore him by the wife that’s left him from frustration of being cheated on, over and over again. David's twenty-five, and would much rather live on his trust fund, than bothering himself having any kind of job. He was in his room, getting his freak on with a dude friend when he needed a drink of water from the dispenser in the hall, but much to his annoyance, it was out, and he had to head downstairs to the kitchen. On getting to the upstairs landing, he noticed downstairs, a strange assortment of people, and in that, two men in balaclavas, one of them wielding a pistol. He retreated back into his room, not saying a word to the dude he left hanging, and he rushed to his closet, fishing out his Varminter K1-V-BBZ hunting rifle. “Dude, what the fuck is going on?!” Alfie, the dude friend, asked.
“Stay here,” said David, “there’s trouble downstairs.”
“What kinda trouble?”
“Guys with guns.”
“Oh my God!” said Alfie.
David doesn’t know the first thing about crisis management; All he thought he had to do was get somebody killed. So he took his rifle, looking his lover solemnly in the eyes, and kissing him passionately, in case he doesn't make it back. Alfred's severely touched. Tears stream down his face, “Be careful, baby,” said he. And David, not saying a word, gave a solemn nod, and headed, rifle ready, for the landing. With his heart pounding out of his chest, he was careful and tentative, and he wondered why his boner was still on despite the extreme anxiety of the moment; It must be the excitement, he thought. He took position before the balustrade, taking aim through the scope, at Blake's head. But Blake won't stop moving, whining and gesticulating about something David can't really hear, and then David took aim at the torso and fired twice, but the man's a lousy shot, and both shots missed, even by considerably much, and Blake and co disappeared, taking cover behind the seats. And David, knowing he's missed, retreated to a blind spot, considering return fire. “Goddamn,” he thought, “I should have gone hunting more often … Or ever at all.” Then he also thought about the fact that he actually noticed a smoking hot chick down there. And she seemed to be with the gangsters. And he knew he'd die before he had to shoot someone so spectacular, because on no account in today’s obesity ridden world, should such a fitness and hotness lay awaste. So, he thought to stand down, hoping the situation doesn't escalate. Then his dad began screaming at him, telling him that those people are his friends, that they were only talking business, that no one's getting hurt.”
“Why’s he have a gun?” David asks from his blind spot.
“It’s just a joke for crying out loud!” Cassidy exhorts, “We were playing a game!”
Joanna compliments herself for not being terribly scared, but she wonders why she won't stop jittering.
“Yeah, David,” says Blake, trying to hide his shock, “we were only playing a game, no one's getting hurt. Listen, I'm gonna put my gun away, and you can come down without yours, okay?”
“Okay.”
Blake tosses the pistol to Olly, who would rather not catch a flying pistol, flinching and letting it land to the floor, and as it hits the floor, tumbling and clattering, it severely startles him. He eyes Blake, reproaching, and Blake just shrugs, hint of smile. Olly carefully picks up the dreadful thing, checking that the safety switch is off, then he buries it in his backpack.
Everyone downstairs sees David appear on the upstairs landing, wielding a hunting rifle, “Son of a goddamned bitch,” mutters Olly. David puts the gun down, and heads down the stairs. He comes into the living room where everyone's now sat at ease.
“Jesus fucking Christ, David,” says Cassidy, “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“I thought they were gonna kill you, dad.”
“You we’re gonna kill me, you dumb fuck!”
“Sorry, dad.” He now looks around at everyone, “Why are you masked?” he asks Blake and Olly, who immediately take off the masks.
“We were playing a game, man,” says Blake.
“Oh, like a role-play thing?”
“Exactly,” says Olly.
“Sounds like fun,” says David, “count me in.”
“No,” Blake smiles, “we’re not doing that anymore. We sort of lost the zeal with you almost killing us and all.”
“Oh,” says David, genuinely disappointed he doesn’t get to play in their game, but he knows it’s his fault. “I’m sorry.”
“Come on,” says Blake, “you acted in good faith, you had to protect your household. In your shoes, I'd have done the same thing.” At this, Joanna and Olly hope Blake’s just being expedient, that he doesn't really mean that crap he just said, that he's really not such an idiot. And Cassidy himself couldn't pay attention to anything but God’s Plan TV. He's transfixed.
“Really?” David asks.
“Sure!” says Blake. And Joanna can’t help but roll her eyes.
“Okay, I'm gonna go back upstairs then.”
“Okay, nice making your acquaintance,” says Olly.
“Yeah,” Blake reiterates.
“Same here.” David heads back up the stairs, and on getting to the upstairs hallway, he sees Alfie snooping his way through, trying to know what the hell going on. Alfie's dressed in nothing but the bed sheet, and is startled to see David come out of nowhere like that. David himself's barefoot, and didn't make any footstep sounds---But infact, the man, right from when he was a little boy had learned the art of treading through out the house without making a sound, lest his parents know he’s up and about, and can trace it back to him when mischief has been done---So, David explains to Alfie that it was a false alarm; that there was no threat; that it was just a role-play thing, and Alfie breathes a sigh of relief, and then tells David how sexy he looks with that rifle hanging behind his back, and David really appreciates this, smiling and sweeping Alfie off his feet, “Thank you, baby,” says a beaming David. He carries Alfie, heading back into the bedroom. But in truth, by the time he set Alfie down in bed, he was swearing at himself for heaving the man in the first place. “The bitch is way heavier than he looks.” And he was wreaking havoc on David’s elbow tendons, especially the one he tore back in the day, falling out of his position in the tree from which he regularly peeps at the neighbors, trying to catch them unclad.
Back downstairs, Mr. Cassidy's still processing what's being shown him on the TV, and with more and more Ent News stories coming to play, it becomes more compelling and undisputable that the broadcast is really not of the days, that it really is … of the future. “This just blows my mind,” says the astonished Cassidy, “No one will believe it without seeing.”
“Not quite,” says Joanna, “when you juxtaposed it with the God's-Plan-dot-com you've already seen, you should at least consider it's authenticity.”
“Yeah,” says Cassidy, “trying to sound apologetic, “you know I wasn't in the right frame of mind when I read your message.”
“ ’Course you weren't,” says Blake.
“I really am deeply sorry and ashamed.”
“ ’Course you are,” says Blake.
“Next thing I know,” says Cassidy, “I wake up, and this was all just a dream.”
“Well,” says Olly, “that's the thing, my friend, it’s as real as it gets; It's not just a dream, it's a dream come true.”
“Well,” replies Cassidy, “I should still pinch myself and be sure.” He pinches his massive thigh awkwardly sticking out of his house coat, “Nope, not dreaming … I hope.”
“No one's dreaming dude,” says Olly, as he, Blake and Joanna all smilingly stare at Cassidy, gratified, as Cassidy beholds God's Plan TV, awestruck, acknowledging it for exactly what it is, and what it could get him… And then, on TV, Richard and Constance, the Ent News hosts, now talk about a new segment that has come on Ent News, and Blake, Joanna and Olly, tighten their attention, rapt. Richard and Constance say the new segment is on sports, and try to seem excited and perky about it, but they're not kidding anyone; their crooked smiles betray them thoroughly as even they, the presenters of the show, cannot understand why a network dedicated to celebrity lifestyle and fashion has to give sport news: Like, there are already enough networks dedicated to that crap. But, nonetheless, Richard and Constance play along, passing the session over to the host of the sport segment, “Over to you, Blake,” says Constance.
“Thank you, Connie,” The sport segment comes on, and lo and behold, it is Blake hosting it. He starts giving the sport updates, starting with football, how the New Orleans Saints celebrate their thirty-one – twenty-eight victory over the New England Patriots. How the odds were against the Saints as they were losing thirteen - twenty-eight, but they got a grip, and began scoring touchdown after touchdown, goal after goal, and eventually closed the margin, and then at the last minute, scored a longshot field goal that gave them the most dramatic victory seen in the last three seasons. Sport-caster Blake goes on and on, giving more details and other game results, and present-Blake, and everyone else there watching the TV is transfixed, awestruck.
“It all works out,” Blake solemnly mutters to himself.
“Congratulations, honey,” says Joanna.
“Congratulations, dude,” says Olly
“Thanks, guys. And congratulations to you too; God's Plan betting is here.”
“You bet your ass,” says Joanna and Olly.
“I guess,” says Cassidy, “I see where things are going from here.” He pauses a moment, staring at the TV, mesmerized. Then it hits him; “I should be recording this. Archie, record this, that's billions right there.”
“Right,” says Archie, taking out his phone, and videoing the TV, “This is bizarre! My wife's never gonna believe this-”
“Whoa whoa whoa!” says Blake, “I need not tell anyone that the fewer people that know about this, the better.”
“ ’Course,” says Cassidy, “Archie, forget about telling your wife or anyone else.”
“Right,” says Archie.
“You're even extremely lucky to be in on this,” continues Cassidy, “you aren't part of the plan. There are real people that have to do real work,” he motions to the TV, “to sustain this whole thing, but you, you’re just gonna be laying on your ass, betting and winning?”
“Hey, I work at Ent too.”
“And if everyone at Ent knew about this, our fortunes would be watered down to oblivion. And for the fact that those creeps couldn't keep their mouths shut with a gun to their heads, the whole world would soon find out about …” he motions to the TV, thinking what to call it, facing Blake, “what name do we call it?”
“God’s Plan TV.”
“ ’Course, God’s Plan TV,” says Cassidy, continuing with Archie “The whole world would soon find out about God's Plan TV. And then what happens? They'd converge on it, ruining and destroying it. ‘You work at Ent too.’ Apparently not hard enough, I’ll have to find you something nice and hard to do for the new sport segment-” Archie rolls his eyes, “You’re gonna need to grind ass if you're gonna be getting from God's Plan TV. And you’re gonna be thanking me cuz you don't deserve none of it. Hell, if this we’re the mob, someone would be strangling your ass right now with a steel wire.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Of course bloody thank you,” says Cassidy.
Joanna now faces Archie, “I bet your wife’s also not gonna believe you’re out here getting cozy with call-girls.”
“She has her thing,” says Archie, “I have mine.”
Blake faces Olly, “We’re still recording all this, right?”
“You bet your ass.”
“So,” says Cassidy, to Blake, “you end up working for me then.”
“Who better,” says Blake, “to give their heart and soul in broadcasting sport news on a network everyone knows has absolutely nothing to do with sports than a guy that stands to make a fortune from it?”
“Right. Come in Monday, we'll give you all the training you need.” And Cassidy knows that to make slot for the sport segment, something else is gonna have to go. He decides it should be the fashion segment, after all they already have enough fashion shows, and anything really newsworthy that has to do with fashion can fit in the main segment of the news. He decides he'll a nice time telling Helen, the fashion segment host, she no longer has any screen time at all; the thing in her job she cherishes by far the most: Hell, it's what keeps her satisfied with the job; maybe even with her life in general---If the bitch doesn't like it, she can quit. Sure enough, Helen and Cassidy don't get along very well at the office. She strongly turns down all flirtatious advances from the man, rebuking his jokes, calling them tantamount to sexual harassment, and one time, she made a scene telling him off, embarrassing and humiliating him. And Cassidy, ever since Helen started work at Ent six years back, has wanted nothing more than to be able to spank her on that shapely butt, and for her to smile, loving it. After all, he's damn sure he’d love it if the bitch or any other female colleague in her hotness class spanked him on the butt or some other body part. And upon that, he's a senior staffer; way senior for crying out loud. Why won’t people just be free and open with each other? What is wrong with people? The world sure's a twisted place. Well, if the bitch quits, the better. This time, I'll just hire someone with some openness and common sense. “Poor goddamned Helen,” mutters he, to himself, solemn; For despite the fact Helen hasn't been particularly friendly to him, he still has a soft spot for her; Or a hard on. He has a soft spot for any woman as fit as Helen, irrespective of whether they play to his tune, or attend to his sordid advances---Cassidy's the kind of man to take out his cock … as a joke!---And he particularly likes the way Helen carries herself, in her tight, short outfits with outlines popping from underneath. But now, what has to be done has to be done. There's a fortune to be made. It is God's plan.
“What?” asks Blake, hearing Cassidy mutter something.
“Nothing. Come in eight, sharp. There'll be no time for slacking on God's Plan Betting.”
“Yes sir,” says Blake.
“So,” says Cassidy, “does anyone have any idea how long God's Plan TV's gonna last?”
“No one knows, how could anyone?” Blake now motions to the TV, “And we're not talking about it or showing it to anyone else.”
“ ’Course we're not.”
“And for the mere fact,” says Olly, “that no one knows how long it'll last is why we must not waste time. We have to work as fast as we can.”
“Right,” says Cassidy. He now stares at the TV again, “Isn’t this just the greatest spectacle anyone's ever experienced in their goddamned lives?”
“You bet your ass,” says Archie, and Cassidy gives him a reproaching look and he has to correct himself, “Um, you bet your ass, sir.”
“So,” says Blake, “our work here is done. Olly, pack up.”
“Right.” Olly heads for the TV, with his laptop connected to it.
“Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa wait a minute!” says Cassidy, and Olly stops in his tracks. Cassidy continues, “You’re not leaving it here?!” Of course the man says this this knowing, ‘Fat chance,’ but you know, it's one of those times when you have to act really shocked about something normal and fair, just to have that stronger leverage to solicit the extent you want. “Come on, it's just a copy, you have the main thing at your house.”
“No can do, bro,” says Olly, “the viewing of God's Plan TV is left exclusive to us,” he motions to himself, Blake and Joanna, “the chosen ones.”
“Come on, you know I'm good for it, I'm making a contribution here. A major one.”
“Mr. Cassidy,” says Blake, “remember,” he motions to himself, Joanna and Olly, “we still have the blog to run. The information should be exclusive to us.”
“Come on, I'm not gonna interfere with your blog. But I'm making a major contribution here, remember without me, there'll be no God's Plan Bet.”
“The man is right,” says Archie. And there's a moment of silence, as this sits, and the bloggers are speechless.
“Okay,” says Cassidy, “if I should get nothing else, I have to be getting the sport updates. I'm entitled.”
“The man is right,” Archie reiterates.
“The man is right,” now, says Joanna herself. “He’s entitled to get the sport updates just as well as anyone.”
Cassidy smiles, “That’s why I love broads, they have the best sense of judgement.”
“Hey,” says Joanna, “no need to draw stereotypes; Just because I have an excellent sense of judgement, doesn't mean all other bitches should have the like.” Everyone laughs.
“My God!” says a giggling Cassidy, “And she's funny too. My God! What I'd be enjoying with this woman tonight if things went as expected.” He now faces Joanna, “But baby, who says the night has to go awry, we can still get thing in motion.”
“No we cannot.”
“Is it one of these guys?” says Cassidy, “Come on, they seem like open people.” He now regards Blake and Olly, “we’re all open people, aren't we?”
“No we’re not,” says Blake.
“Well,” says Cassidy, “worth the shot… Goddamn,” he keeps leering at Joanna.
“So,” says Blake, “You’re right, you'll be getting the feed.”
“Right.”
“But,” says Olly, “I'm gonna need my laptop. I'll help you set it up with your own laptop, but I'll have to work from the other end; my house.”
“Right. How do we stay touch, though?”
“Just hit me up on the Instagram I sent you earlier.” Olly disconnects his laptop from the TV, rendering it blank, and putting the laptop and cable in his backpack.
“Okay,” says Cassidy, “And again, guys, I really am sorry about the way I responded to the message before.”
“Yeah what's up with that?,” asks Blake, “Why can't you keep an open mind? And here you are, chanting about being an open person-”
“I know, I know,” says Cassidy.
Blake continues, “You had me really depressed. I told you it was gonna cost you absolutely nothing.”
“I know, it's just … I have trust issues since my wife left me … for our therapist.” A moment of silence as everyone takes this in.
“Oh,” says Blake, “Well it's okay, man, you don't need her. Look how great your life's turning out: Now, even, you get to experience something extraordinary.”
“Yeah,” says Cassidy, solemn. The man didn't know what he had until he lost it. He used to think, “how does anyone expect me to sleep with just one woman for the rest of my life? It makes no sense.” But now, even as he still believes it makes no sense, he knows he should have been more respectful and revering to his wife; he should have been more constrained and covert in his indiscretions. It's not that his wife was in any way inadequate, but Henry just wouldn't settle with monogamy, he doesn't believe it's sustainable. But now he keeps asking himself if polygamy's sustainable. “Is it not killing me?” thinks he, “None of these women have that warmth and camaraderie peculiar with Emily. I want my wife back. But can I absolutely stick with her? Hmm. Would she ever even take me back?” He now says, “Thanks, guys,” He gets up, shaking hands with Blake, Joanna and Olly, “Thanks so much, my life really was taking a downturn before this; I couldn't find joy anywhere. Well, apart from hot chicks, but that wasn't enough of course. I needed something … non-sexual. I thought I’d outlived all my non-sexual pleasures in life, and now, you’ve endowed me with something new to look forward to, something perfect, and for that, I’ll be eternally grateful. I have a new beginning, a transcendent beginning, and life is about to get infinitely more interesting. Wait, I think we should make a toast.”
“We sure should,” says Archie.
“Go get us a champagne,” says Cassidy.
“Right,” Archie goes to the kitchen and comes out with a champagne in an ice bucket, and glasses on a tray, and Blake thinks like,
“Dude, what's the point of the ice bucket, though. It's not like the champagne's gonna last that long.” Archie pops the champagne, cheering and smiling at everyone. The man's genuinely ecstatic. He's hit a gold mine, not toiling in the slightest. And he's going to have the excitement of a lifetime placing those sure bets, over and over and over again. He smilingly fills everyone's glasses, and each grabs theirs. Cassidy raises his, making a toast,
“To God's Plan TV!”
“To God's Plan TV!” everyone cheers, and they down the champagne. “One more thing, though,” says Blake, to Cassidy. “Since you're gonna be getting God's Plan TV, you must take absolute care to make sure no one else knows of it.”
“Of course,” says Cassidy, “no one can know of it. I won't even be having it on the TV, I'll just keep it on my laptop.”
“Good enough,” says Olly.
“Hey,” says Archie, “any chance I get the feed … on my own laptop?”
Blake can’t but giggle. And Cassidy has to enlighten Archie, “Archie Archie Archie, nice try. Just be satisfied with being in on the action. I'll keep you posted on the betting. Don't press your luck with getting the full view, it's for we,” he motions to himself, and the bloggers, “the contributors, the privileged ones, the chosen ones.”
“Worth the shot,” says Archie.
Cassidy giggles, “Of course worth the damn shot, but who d'you think you're dealing with here? I'm not your boss for nothing, bro. I school you, not vice versa. You can't pull one on me, son. Just do right by me, your boss, and it shall be well with you. Forget about always trying to get it as good as me. You can't be there yet,” Cassidy gestures with both hands that he's on a way higher level than Archie, “as long as it's with me, your boss, you can never have it as good, come on. This man, what you do is tantamount to insubordination. Just be glad of the lot you already benefit from me. Not all bosses are this beneficent.”
“Yes sir,” says a smiling Archie.
“So,” says Joanna, “our work here is done. We gotta go.”
“Oh, come on, babe,” says Cassidy, “don’t go just yet.”
“Sorry, dude,” says Joanna, “the girl needs her beauty sleep.”
“Come on,” says Cassidy, “you can get your beauty sleep here, the best kinda beauty sleep.”
“Maybe, but I wouldn't take the chance.”
“Awn, damn shame. You know, I'll hate to see you go, but I'll love to watch you leave.”
“Sure you will.”
“Okay,” says Blake, getting up “gotta go, see you Monday.”
“Sure,” says Cassidy, himself getting up, “Thank you, guys again, for everything, it means the world to me.”
“You’re welcome,” says the three. Blake adds, “and thank you for giving me a career on screen. It means the world to me. You see money is good, but some really good things have little to do with money. You have to know great men like Mr. Henry Cassidy.”
“Nah,” says Cassidy, trying to be modest, “you happen to be the perfect guy for the job. You deserve it, and more.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll see you guys off.”
A moment later, they’re all outside, and Cassidy and Archie see Blake, Jo and Olly off as they get in the Camry. “Okay bye, guys,” says Cassidy, “see you Monday.”
“Bye guys,” says Archie, grinning widely.
“Buh bye,” says they. “See you Monday,” adds Blake, smiling. And Joanna drives off.
“Well that's done,” says Blake.
“We did it!” Joanna cheers.
“Life just got a whole lot more spectacular for us,” says Olly, “I can't wait to buy my dream car, the Aston Martin Vanquish.”
“Well,” says Blake, “you deserve it, and more. You know, I never appreciate you enough; It was you who first considered God's Plan TV for what it really is, and you exhorted I and Jo not to tamper with it. Who knows what woulda happened if you weren't there? Thank you, Olly, you're an extremely valuable person.”
“You’re welcome, man.”
“And Jo,” continues Blake, “it was you who came up with the idea to get Ent to start showing sport updates. You're an extremely valuable, beautiful person, and I adore you.”
“Awn, thank you, baby,” she puts an affectionate hand on his thigh, and Blake takes the hand, lovingly fondling it,
“You’re welcome, honey,” says he.
“We all did great work,” says Joanna, “and we all deserve this, and we'll be damned if we don't enjoy it in its fullness of splendor.”
“We’ll sure be,” says Blake, “Something funny in all this though.”
“What?” Joanna asks.
“As rich as we’re gonna get, we'll still have to live in that little, run down apartment for as long as it holds God's Plan TV.”
“You bet your ass,” says Joanna, “We owe all this to that little, run down apartment, and I guess our way of gratitude will be to stick with it; loyalty.”
“Right. Except for Olly, though. You can move out as soon as possible.” They chuckle.
“Even if I moved out, I'm gonna be right next door, dude. This thing I have with Abie guarantees that.”
Blake smiles, “I think that'd be best for everyone. You'd be out of I and Jo's case, and you'd be right next door in case we needed you and your nerdy skills.”
“Nah,” says Olly, “I think I'm just gonna keep imposing on you guys till you snapped and went mad.”
“More like till we snapped an kicked your ass out,” says Joanna.
Olly smiles, “Whatever happens, I'm sure my baby, Abie, will take me in.”
“She sure will,” says Blake, “Hey guys, now we really are the gods of the bet. You see, it's not just the money, it’s the game; It’s the consistent winning; The fact that we can never lose. You know, my mama tells me gambling's bad for me; Well, I tell her, ‘Ma … this ain't gambling … it's winning … so shut up!’ ” They laugh.
“Shup up, mum,” reiterates Olly, gigglingly. He now says, “The lightning of the heavens has brought us God's plan and we see that it is good.”
“Amen, brother,” says Blake and Jo, “Amen.”
“Woohoo!” Joanna cheers, speeding up as they enter the freeway back to Los Angeles, “Yeah! Yeah! Woohoo!” They all scream for joy, relishing their victory … their transcendent triumph.