Mr. Jay’s Headquarters
T he Pillar sat naked on a single chair set up in the middle of a large empty room. His hands were tied behind his back, with chains, large and heavy and bolted to the floor. He didn’t look upset. He gazed back with a smirk at the glass walls. He couldn’t see through but knew Mr. Jay could see him from the other side, like an interrogation room.
“I need to piss,” the Pillar said, chewing gum.
“Piss on the floor,” a voice said from an overhead mic.
“I hate the smell of my urine,” the Pillar grinned at the glass wall.
“Then drink it.”
“I prefer tea,” the Pillar said. “Though piss does look like green tea, especially when you’re sick.”
“You don’t like tea. You like hookahs,” the voice countered back. “And we know you don’t need to pee.”
“How do you know?” the Pillar said. “Can you see my bladder from behind the glass? Do you have an ultra sound?”
“Stop talking,” the voice says. “We’re dimming the room.”
“I am good with pissing in the light,” the Pillar says. “Also I like a bucket. I like the sound of pissing. Makes me feel like a man.”
This time, a laugh came through the mic. A low, gruff, laugh that the Pillar recognized. “You always make me laugh, Pillar,” Mr. Jay said. “We’re dimming the room because I am entering.”
“Are you naked too?”
“No. I just don’t want you to see me.”
“Why? I know what you look like. I remember you’re Mr. J—“
“Don’t dare say my real name,” Mr. Jay cut off. “I am coming in.”
The Pillar listened to the sound of lock and keys. All electronic, heavy with droning noises. It reminded him of the March’s prison in the underground asylum, the Hole.
Heavy foots step inside. The Pillar’s face was apparent in the light, but Mr. Jay’s wasn’t, hidden in the shadows. The Pillar recognized the pipe he was smoking. Tobacco from the Garden from Wonderland.
“Is this how you played with Alice, making her think you were her psychiatrist in the asylum?” the Pillar said.
“You mean the smoke?” Mr. Jay says. “We all messed with her head, didn’t we?”
“I didn’t.”
“Oh, you did it,” Mr. Jay laughs. “All the things you put her through? We all know what it’s about.”
“We do?” the Pillar plastered an inanimate smile.
“We’re all after the Keys. It’s starting to be repetitive by now. We’re all after the precious thing.”
“Imagine that,” the Pillar said. “Imagine a low life scum like you controlling the most precious thing in the world.”
“Don’t provoke me. I am so close. I will get what I want.”
“OK,” the Pillar shook his shoulders. “Then I guess there is no use for me being here. I don’t know where the Keys are. I’ve been trying, I admit. Alice doesn’t know either, so we should sing kumbaya and go back to Wonderland.”
“True,” Mr. Jay said. “You don’t know where the Keys are, but you’re not stupid.”
“I’m mad. Even better.”
“You have a plan, and I can’t figure it out.”
“Then kill me.”
“You have 14 lives. I’ve lost count. How much do you have left?”
“Lost count too,” the Pillar spat on the floor. “Trust me; immortality is a bitch.”
Mr. Jay leaned forward. The Pillar could see his shade moving but no face. “And you killed the Queen.”
“Nah,” the Pillar said. “I blew off her head. You still have the torso. Talk to the torso.”
“I liked her. She was my best employee.”
“Then I did you a favor.” the Pillar smiled. “Tell me why I am here.”
“I doubt you don’t know, because you were expecting my men, and came with willingly.”
“I figured there is nothing do in the end of the world but live by your side. You have food, shelter, and you’re rich so you must know of the secret Ark that will take me to the planet Mars when it all goes down.”
“I don’t have an Ark,” Mr. Jay said. “You got it all wrong. I want this planet. I want this earth. I want the most precious thing, and then I will rule the earth.”
The Pillar shrugged. The thought of Mr. Jay getting what he wanted, unsettled him. He tried his best not to show it. “Okay, then what do you want from me?”
“I want to know who you are,” Mr. Jay said.
“Carter Chrysalis Coccoon Pillar.”
“Drop the act. We know it’s not you,” Mr. Jay said. “I didn’t get it first, though I’ve always estranged your actions. You were the Pillar but sometimes not the Pillar.”
“I have to tell you the truth,” the Pillar said. “I am schizophrenic.”
“I can make you talk,” Mr. Jay says. “I WILL make you talk.”
“What? Are you going to break my balls? I never understood how you could break someone’s balls. Squash is a better term.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass,” Mr. Jay stood up.
“Oh, you’re going to beat me to death? Fourteen times? What then? You will never know.”
“I will not torture you,” Mr. Jay said. “I don’t hate you that much. In fact, though we’re enemies, I have tremendous respect for you.”
“Thank you, but I’d prefer a hamburger. Respect isn’t that delicious.”
This time, Mr. Jay said nothing and left the room saying, “I have the perfect man to torture you. He hates you so much and knows this is his chance to beat you until you talk.”
The door closed behind him.
The Pillar didn’t know what Mr. Jay meant. A minute later the door opened again. The light went on. In front of the Pillar, stood Angelo Cardone.
“Pillar,” the Cheshire nodded with a grin. “Missed me?”
“Nah, but it’s nice to see your grin,” the Pillar teased him. “I gave it to you after all.”
A painful punch landed on his face. This was going to be a long night.