CHAPTER ONE: THE POWERS THAT BE. OR, IN WHICH DEAN’S LIFE STARTS ANEW AND A DITZY HOLLYWOOD DIVA STARTS THE CHAIN OF EVENTS THAT WOULD LEAD TO A WORLD WAR
“Cocaine is a hell of a drug.” - Rick James, super freak.
“They like a tough game, no rules/Some you win, some you lose/Competition's good for you/They're dying to be free/They're the powers that be
/They like a bomb proof Cadillac/Air conditioned, Gold taps/Back seat gun rack/Platinum hub caps/They pick horses for courses/They're the market forces
They like order, make-up , lime light power/Game shows, rodeos, Star wars, TV/They're the powers that be/If you see them come, you better run"
- Roger Waters, “The Powers That Be”
“Cocaine is a hell of a drug.” - Rick James, super freak.
“They like a tough game, no rules/Some you win, some you lose/Competition's good for you/They're dying to be free/They're the powers that be
/They like a bomb proof Cadillac/Air conditioned, Gold taps/Back seat gun rack/Platinum hub caps/They pick horses for courses/They're the market forces
They like order, make-up , lime light power/Game shows, rodeos, Star wars, TV/They're the powers that be/If you see them come, you better run"
- Roger Waters, “The Powers That Be”
Vegreville, Alberta. 2007.
Sunday morning. The sun was shining into bedroom window of Dean’s apartment. In the past, Dean dreaded Sundays. Much more than Mondays which most people dread. Not like normal people who have the normal Monday to Friday nine to five jobs, Dean hasn’t known that since his time in Edmonton. Since relocating back to his roots, his resume would be a nightmare for someone who suffers from sleeping sickness. Graveyard shifts at two of the local twenty-four hour convenience stores. Then onto an early stock shift for a grocery store. Then he moved onto a movie rental store. Pay was kind of low, but eventually Dean stuck through the highs and lows of the store. With his work schedule over the past few years, he did not have a real sense what it was to have a regular weekend off. This weekend, however, was a rarity for Dean. It was a return to normalcy. Maybe because he knew Monday he officially becomes assistant manager of the store he has given the last three years of his life to. Or maybe because it meant it was one step closer to becoming a manager. Or it could be because his girlfriend of six months agreed to move in with him and this was their first weekend together.
Karen Anderson. She was a paramedic from Edmonton. They met randomly. Through Kevin, again, but this time with better results. Kevin brought her in as a ringer for a mixed curling grudge against Joanne Carlson, Dean’s district manager. Karen may have been only an alternate on the Alberta ladies championship team, but she was the closest to a pro that hit the ice that fateful day. Afterwards, while out celebrating a close, but hard fought victory, Karen and Dean hooked up as is the style these days. A few months after dating, Karen opted for a transfer to Vegreville, partly because she wanted a change of pace, and partly because Dean had found a way to charm himself into her heart. And since vacancy in the modern day boom of Alberta was scarce, why not move in with her boyfriend?
Such patience she has. Dean thought as the sun woke him up along with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and Petula Clark singing “Downtown” on the local oldies station. Wonder what she sees in me that others seem to miss. Okay, Dean, quit beating yourself up. You’ve won this one. Enjoy it, you big dummy!
“You awake yet? Breakfast is getting cold”, Karen called from the kitchen.
“Just a second,” as Dean rolled out of bed and put on his favorite grey bathrobe. “God it just felt so good to sleep in.”
“Sure, rub it to someone who still does the shift work thing.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m still doing shifts too. Just that it is no longer twenty four hours like you”, Dean said as he came up behind Karen and wrapped his arms around her waist as she finished pouring a cup of coffee. Just then, there was buzzing sound emanating from the intercom. It was in the tune of “Shave and a Hair Cut”.
Dean leaned into Karen’s ear and whispered, “You know what to say.”
Karen slid out from under Dean’s arms and walked over to the intercom. She pushes the “talk” button and sings “two bits.” As she hits the button to open the main building entrance, knowing sure enough who was there. It was Kevin, who always came over to Dean’s for Sunday breakfast. It was something that was done since Edmonton, and became routine for the two of them. However, this morning was a little different in the routine as Karen was now a part of this dynamic duo it seems. That, and Kevin came into the apartment with some urgency.
“I knew it was going to happen! I just knew it!” Kevin said as he was reading something on his Blackberry. “Hey, fellow assistant manager” he said directed to Dean.
“So they officially made you an assistant regional manager?” asked Dean, knowing full well that while Kevin worked as a regional representative for Cargill, a grain marketing firm, and he was only an assistant manager in his mind.
“Not officially. They’re waiting for the right time to inform the rest of my coworkers of my ascension to next in line alpha dog. “, Kevin continued, “But I’m not worried about semantics right now. We could be on the verge of a global war!”
Karen walked into the conversation, “This isn’t another wolves thing is it?” Karen knew from before her and Dean were together, that Kevin was always spouting off weird theories regarding the end times. Usually it involved a group of world leaders he always referred to as “The Powers That Be”; Or something with wolves finding a way to avenge their domesticated brethren in the canine family and overthrow the bourgeois human class. No one said that Kevin’s theories were fully grounded in reality.
Kevin decided to reply the only way he knew how to: a rambling fact guised in truthiness: “Okay, fact: inconsistencies with modern economics and environmental protectionism in the north could force the wolf to either adapt to man’s encroachment or fight back like all territorial animals do. But this time it is not a ‘wolf thing’, Karen. Seems everyone’s favorite redhead-turned-coke-whore had not only fallen off the wagon, but may have had the second worst person to have a fender bender with a former professional wrestler who may be legit insane due to his fondness of the same white powdered nose candy.”
Dean decided to chime into the conversation: “Okay, what in the fuck are you babbling about, Kev?”
Kevin went onto explain, “Simply put: it seems miss Lindsay Lohan has fallen off the wagon and got herself into a little traffic accident with a man you and I know very well. A certain Iranian you and I know as The Iron Sheik…”
Karen interrupted, “Wait a second, how is this even news? Why is there going to be an all out war because a washed-up fake fighter got into a rough with a recovering burnt-out child actress?”
“Because”, Kevin continued, “There is buzz on the internet that the Iranians are furious over the fact that Miss Lohan decided to pull a Mel Gibson and launched into a rant on how ‘those people’ are evil and stuff…”
Dean stepped in, “…and I assume the United States took offense to good ol’ Sheiky threatening the modern day American dream girl with some form of humbling slash forced sodomy, right?”
“Bingo! Give the man a cigar!” answered Kevin as he made a pantomime motion of a game show host acknowledging the right response from a contestant.
Karen again decided to add in her thoughts, “I don’t see how this will affect us here in Canada.”
“Fact: being the United States’ biggest trading partner and to repair the supposed rift between our two nations during the Chretien years, our fearless leader Stephen Harper will no doubt decide to follow the shrub into the gates of hell!”, Kevin replied. He then looks at his watch. “Oh, gotta go. Have to go meet this guy as he is helping me install a bomb shelter on the old Brody homestead.”
“Wait a minute”, Karen went onto say, “You’re pretty serious about this?”
“I’m super serious about three things, Karen. End-of-days preparations, grain sales, and protecting East Central Alberta from wolves and ManBearPig!”
“ManBear…” Karen was about to go on, but Dean did his trademark “I’ll explain later” look and she left her thought there. “Well, go forth and protect us, then.”
“I shall indeed. Adieu and I’ll let you all know what the next step is”, Kevin said as he left.
Karen rolled her eyes and decided to finish her earlier thought with Dean, “ManBearPig?”
Dean smiled and explained, “Made up creature Donnie and I came up with at work. We both convinced Kevin for a while that the Alberta Research Council was holding this bizarre creature at their facilities here on the outskirts of town.”
Karen was doing her best to hold back laughing as she wrapped her arms around Dean’s slightly chunky body. “No offense, dear, but your best friend can be a real idiot.”
Dean gave her a quick peck on her cheek, “I know Kare Bear, but that idiot could very well be our key to surviving any kind of retaliatory attack.”
“And you are basing this on what exactly?” she asked while kissing him on the lips.
“I honestly do not know. But I have learned over the years two things. One is to never bet against Kevin Brody in most scenarios.”
“What’s the second thing?”
“Cocaine is a hell of a drug.”
Sunday morning. The sun was shining into bedroom window of Dean’s apartment. In the past, Dean dreaded Sundays. Much more than Mondays which most people dread. Not like normal people who have the normal Monday to Friday nine to five jobs, Dean hasn’t known that since his time in Edmonton. Since relocating back to his roots, his resume would be a nightmare for someone who suffers from sleeping sickness. Graveyard shifts at two of the local twenty-four hour convenience stores. Then onto an early stock shift for a grocery store. Then he moved onto a movie rental store. Pay was kind of low, but eventually Dean stuck through the highs and lows of the store. With his work schedule over the past few years, he did not have a real sense what it was to have a regular weekend off. This weekend, however, was a rarity for Dean. It was a return to normalcy. Maybe because he knew Monday he officially becomes assistant manager of the store he has given the last three years of his life to. Or maybe because it meant it was one step closer to becoming a manager. Or it could be because his girlfriend of six months agreed to move in with him and this was their first weekend together.
Karen Anderson. She was a paramedic from Edmonton. They met randomly. Through Kevin, again, but this time with better results. Kevin brought her in as a ringer for a mixed curling grudge against Joanne Carlson, Dean’s district manager. Karen may have been only an alternate on the Alberta ladies championship team, but she was the closest to a pro that hit the ice that fateful day. Afterwards, while out celebrating a close, but hard fought victory, Karen and Dean hooked up as is the style these days. A few months after dating, Karen opted for a transfer to Vegreville, partly because she wanted a change of pace, and partly because Dean had found a way to charm himself into her heart. And since vacancy in the modern day boom of Alberta was scarce, why not move in with her boyfriend?
Such patience she has. Dean thought as the sun woke him up along with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and Petula Clark singing “Downtown” on the local oldies station. Wonder what she sees in me that others seem to miss. Okay, Dean, quit beating yourself up. You’ve won this one. Enjoy it, you big dummy!
“You awake yet? Breakfast is getting cold”, Karen called from the kitchen.
“Just a second,” as Dean rolled out of bed and put on his favorite grey bathrobe. “God it just felt so good to sleep in.”
“Sure, rub it to someone who still does the shift work thing.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m still doing shifts too. Just that it is no longer twenty four hours like you”, Dean said as he came up behind Karen and wrapped his arms around her waist as she finished pouring a cup of coffee. Just then, there was buzzing sound emanating from the intercom. It was in the tune of “Shave and a Hair Cut”.
Dean leaned into Karen’s ear and whispered, “You know what to say.”
Karen slid out from under Dean’s arms and walked over to the intercom. She pushes the “talk” button and sings “two bits.” As she hits the button to open the main building entrance, knowing sure enough who was there. It was Kevin, who always came over to Dean’s for Sunday breakfast. It was something that was done since Edmonton, and became routine for the two of them. However, this morning was a little different in the routine as Karen was now a part of this dynamic duo it seems. That, and Kevin came into the apartment with some urgency.
“I knew it was going to happen! I just knew it!” Kevin said as he was reading something on his Blackberry. “Hey, fellow assistant manager” he said directed to Dean.
“So they officially made you an assistant regional manager?” asked Dean, knowing full well that while Kevin worked as a regional representative for Cargill, a grain marketing firm, and he was only an assistant manager in his mind.
“Not officially. They’re waiting for the right time to inform the rest of my coworkers of my ascension to next in line alpha dog. “, Kevin continued, “But I’m not worried about semantics right now. We could be on the verge of a global war!”
Karen walked into the conversation, “This isn’t another wolves thing is it?” Karen knew from before her and Dean were together, that Kevin was always spouting off weird theories regarding the end times. Usually it involved a group of world leaders he always referred to as “The Powers That Be”; Or something with wolves finding a way to avenge their domesticated brethren in the canine family and overthrow the bourgeois human class. No one said that Kevin’s theories were fully grounded in reality.
Kevin decided to reply the only way he knew how to: a rambling fact guised in truthiness: “Okay, fact: inconsistencies with modern economics and environmental protectionism in the north could force the wolf to either adapt to man’s encroachment or fight back like all territorial animals do. But this time it is not a ‘wolf thing’, Karen. Seems everyone’s favorite redhead-turned-coke-whore had not only fallen off the wagon, but may have had the second worst person to have a fender bender with a former professional wrestler who may be legit insane due to his fondness of the same white powdered nose candy.”
Dean decided to chime into the conversation: “Okay, what in the fuck are you babbling about, Kev?”
Kevin went onto explain, “Simply put: it seems miss Lindsay Lohan has fallen off the wagon and got herself into a little traffic accident with a man you and I know very well. A certain Iranian you and I know as The Iron Sheik…”
Karen interrupted, “Wait a second, how is this even news? Why is there going to be an all out war because a washed-up fake fighter got into a rough with a recovering burnt-out child actress?”
“Because”, Kevin continued, “There is buzz on the internet that the Iranians are furious over the fact that Miss Lohan decided to pull a Mel Gibson and launched into a rant on how ‘those people’ are evil and stuff…”
Dean stepped in, “…and I assume the United States took offense to good ol’ Sheiky threatening the modern day American dream girl with some form of humbling slash forced sodomy, right?”
“Bingo! Give the man a cigar!” answered Kevin as he made a pantomime motion of a game show host acknowledging the right response from a contestant.
Karen again decided to add in her thoughts, “I don’t see how this will affect us here in Canada.”
“Fact: being the United States’ biggest trading partner and to repair the supposed rift between our two nations during the Chretien years, our fearless leader Stephen Harper will no doubt decide to follow the shrub into the gates of hell!”, Kevin replied. He then looks at his watch. “Oh, gotta go. Have to go meet this guy as he is helping me install a bomb shelter on the old Brody homestead.”
“Wait a minute”, Karen went onto say, “You’re pretty serious about this?”
“I’m super serious about three things, Karen. End-of-days preparations, grain sales, and protecting East Central Alberta from wolves and ManBearPig!”
“ManBear…” Karen was about to go on, but Dean did his trademark “I’ll explain later” look and she left her thought there. “Well, go forth and protect us, then.”
“I shall indeed. Adieu and I’ll let you all know what the next step is”, Kevin said as he left.
Karen rolled her eyes and decided to finish her earlier thought with Dean, “ManBearPig?”
Dean smiled and explained, “Made up creature Donnie and I came up with at work. We both convinced Kevin for a while that the Alberta Research Council was holding this bizarre creature at their facilities here on the outskirts of town.”
Karen was doing her best to hold back laughing as she wrapped her arms around Dean’s slightly chunky body. “No offense, dear, but your best friend can be a real idiot.”
Dean gave her a quick peck on her cheek, “I know Kare Bear, but that idiot could very well be our key to surviving any kind of retaliatory attack.”
“And you are basing this on what exactly?” she asked while kissing him on the lips.
“I honestly do not know. But I have learned over the years two things. One is to never bet against Kevin Brody in most scenarios.”
“What’s the second thing?”
“Cocaine is a hell of a drug.”
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