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Episode 4: Don’t Go Nowhere August 2nd, 1947. Los Angeles, California. Metropolitan State Hospital “It’s so lovely to see you come visit Miss Frost like this, Mr. Manfredi,” said the doctor. “You must care about her a great deal.” The man who looked like Joseph Manfredi knelt next to the chair where the once critically acclaimed actress Whitney Frost sat. Ever since her encounter with Zero Matter, she had been reduced to a near catatonic state. She just sat in her straitjacket and gazed out the window with a bland expression on her face. “We go a long way back,” ‘Joseph’ said gazing at her. “I just got to believe that she’s still in there. That one of these days you people could bring her back.” The doctor nodded nervously. “Well, there are always new therapies we try. But it will take time, and I can’t guarantee they won’t be painful. But there is a chance…” ‘Joseph’ rose to his feet, gently stroking Whitney’s cheek. “I got to go now,” he whispered. “You take care of yourself, beautiful. Ok?” Whitney remained silent. ‘Joseph’ turned and walked out of the room, and the doctor locked the door behind them. “We will keep you informed if there are any changes, Mr. Manfredi,” the doctor said as they walked down the hall. They passed a room and heard shouting coming from inside. ‘Joseph’ shook his head. “He’s still going at it, huh?” “Mr. Carter is just having a rough morning,” said the doctor, increasing his pace. “He’s been having a rough morning every time I come here,” remarked ‘Joseph’. “I wouldn’t want Whitney to be disturbed because that nut doesn’t know when to shut up.” “I’m sorry, Mr. Manfredi, but we’re…” “Doing the best you can. I know.” ‘Joseph’ turned down a highway that led to the front door of the hospital. “I can find my way from here. See you next week, doc. You just make sure you let me know if there’s any changes. Got it?” The doctor gulped as ‘Joseph’ walked out the door of the hospital. He gathered himself and turned toward a nurse with black hair pushing a cart with trays of medication. “Nurse? Nurse! I’m sorry, you’re one of the new interns. What was your name again?” “Locke, doctor. Nurse Locke.” “Well, Nurse Locke, if you could find me the doctor in charge of Mr. Carter, please? I want to discuss a possible change in Mr. Carter’s regimen.” Nurse Locke continued on her way. “Yes, doctor.” Outside of the hospital, Dmitri, still disguised as Joseph Mafredi, walked toward a large truck parked a few blocks away. He walked up to the drivers’ side and looked in on the muscular gentleman at the wheel. “Is everything prepared?” Dmitri said in Joseph’s voice. “Everything’s green, Mr. Manfredi. We’re ready to roll,” the man said. “The boss is just waiting for you to give him the word.” Dmitri gave a last look at the hospital. “Do it. He can have his fun now.” The man put his hand to his ear, tapping the small, circular device in it. “Did you hear that, Arcade? Client has given you the all clear.” “Well, goody, Mr. Chambers! Miss Locke! Are the rest of our guests ready to play?” Miss Locke covertly tapped the device tucked in her right ear. “Yes, Arcade. A good assortment of doctors, nurses, patients, and visitors. Should be quite a spectacle.” “Brilliant! And I must say you look quite a treat in that uniform, Miss Locke.” Miss Locke shot a look toward a hidden camera in the ceiling. “Thank you, Arcade.” “Alrighty then! Enough of the chit chat! It’s show time!” As if on cue, large metallic doors started slamming shut in front of each exit of the hospital. People shouted out in alarm as every avenue of escape was blocked by walls of steel. “Yowza, yowza, ladies and gentlemen!” a voice cried out over the PA system. “Step right up! Welcome to the midway! You might be crazy to get in here, but you would be even crazier to try to leave!” “What the hell?” the doctor said in shock. A group of interns rushed to one of the steel doors, but as soon as they touched it they screamed in pain. The sound of electric current and the smell of burning flesh filled the hallway. After a few moments, they fell dead on the tiled floor. “Ah ah ah!” chided Arcade. “Just one of the many shocking things to see, folks! Hurry, hurry! How about trying the shooting gallery? Hit the target, win the kewpie doll!” A panel opened in the wall to reveal a machine gun that peppered the hallway with bullets. People ran and screamed in terror as the sound of a calliope playing carnival music blared over the PA. Los Angeles, California. Auerbach Theatrical Agency (SSR Office). Rose Roberts sat at her desk typing as Aloysius Samberly walked in from the hidden entrance to the SSR. He leaned against the desk in an attempt to be casual. “So, Rose, how you doing today?” “Fine,” she said, not looking up from her typewriter. Samberly cleared his throat. “Well, um… would like to know what I’ve found about that key Chief Sousa gave me?” “Not particularly.” Samberly looked hurt. “Why not?” Rose turned towards him with a look of irritation. “Because you’ve been looking over that key for days and have found nothing. And if you had found something you would have told it to Chief Sousa, and no one knows where he is.” Samberly gave a sigh of resignation. “Ok, fine. I seem to have hit a brick wall. I haven’t learned anything new from any analysis I’ve tried on that key. Which is why, um… I was thinking about taking a break, and I was wondering if um… you could join me for a bite to eat?” Rose smiled at Samberly. “Why, Aloysius, are you asking me on a date?” “What? A date? No! Well, that is… Yes. I suppose I am.” Before Rose could answer, the entrance to the SSR office opened and a number of agents ran out. “What’s going on?” Rose asked Agent Ryan, who was in charge in Sousa’s absence. “We just got an anonymous tip,” he replied hurriedly. “Report of gunfire coming from the Met State Hospital.” “Isn’t that where Whitney Frost is being held?” said Samberly. “Don’t worry, Samberly,” one of the agents said mockingly. “We’re headed over there now. We won’t let her make you faint again.” The other agents chuckled as Ryan put on his hat. “Enough of the comedy! Get your gear! If someone is trying to bust out Frost, it’s our job to find out what’s going on and keep her behind bars! Move it!” Rose and Samberly looked on stunned as the agents all headed out the door. From his car parked across the street, Dmitri watched as the agents ran out of the Auerbach Talent Agency, piled into cars and sped off. He removed his mask of Joseph Manfredi, and looked at the new mask he had sitting on the seat next to him. It was the face of Daniel Sousa. Metropolitan State Hospital Bruce Carter fought against the leather restraints that held him pinned to his bed. He grunted with exertion, but they would not give. He could hear the sounds of screaming and gunfire from outside his door, and the incessant carnival music. People are in trouble. They need your help, Bruce. Bruce closed his eyes tight and tried to block out the voice. “No! I can’t do anything! I can do nothing!” Nothing? A Carter can do nothing?! It was the Carters that fought at Bunker Hill! It was the Carters that fought at Gettysburg! “I’ve already fought! I don’t want to fight anymore!” “Now here this, ladies and gentlemen!” Arcade’s voice shouted over the PA. “You want more thrills and chills? Well, don’t worry! You can find it all with Arcade! In just a moment, we’re going to have some more guests! That’s right, folks! Fresh from the intensive care ward, they’re the most blood thirsty bunch of loonies this side of the Mississippi! And they’re just dying to meet you! And you’ll be dying when you meet them!” Do you hear that, Bruce? That loon is going to release the violent patients! If the traps he’s set up don’t kill those people, then those criminals will! You have to help them! Bruce flexed his muscles and roared as he pushed against the straps. Finally they snapped and flew apart. Bruce fell of the bed, breathing heavily. You see? You do have strength left! Remember, Bruce? “Over there, over there! Send the word, send the word, over there! That the Yanks are coming, the Yanks are coming, the drums rum tumming everywhere!” Bruce covered his ears to block out the voice singing, gritting his teeth. He screamed in agony. “SHUT UP!!” He slammed a fist into the floor that smashed a hole in it. Bruce looked at his fist, then toward the white gift box sitting on the chair. The voice continued to sing. “So prepare, say a prayer. Send the word, send the word to beware.” Nurses and doctors ran down the hallway as a group of patients chased after them, armed with whatever they could find. They had passed Bruce’s door when the door flew off it’s hinges. The patients looked behind them in confusion. They saw Bruce Carter III, in blue pants, a shirt with an American flag on it, a cape, a tricorn hat and a mask. The Fighting Yank stood boldly with a resolute look on his face as the voice in his head sang all the louder. “We’re coming over, we’re coming over. And we won’t come back till it’s over over there!” OK: Can the Fighting Yank defeat Arcade’s death traps? What are Dmitri’s plans for the SSR? Stay Tuned and find out! Game On!