30 Seconds: And Now A Word From Our Sponsor
by D.C. Logan
"You're doing what?!"
"A cmmmrrral."
"A what? Geez Duo, speak up. You're talking into your coffee again."
"A commercial."
Heero looked up from his laptop in mild astonishment. "For what?"
"Imnotsaying"
"Why not? You did that one, when..."
"Last Christmas."
"Right. For the on-colony transportation company. The one with the low-budget battery engine sport cars. 'For the Gundam on the go'...."
"Right." Duo nodded resignedly, "Thanks for the instant memory."
"...A Hero of The War, A Pilot of Extraordinary Skill..." Heero embraced the lines.
Duo left the living room in disgust.
The next two weeks saw Duo wandering about his errands. His constant companion a tattered sheaf of papers clipped on an upper corner with a steel clip.
"For the man on the move, the pilot on the prowl." He couldn't wait to hear Heero's sing-song reply to this one. He'd never hear the end of it. He walked about the apartment and about the colony; memorizing and reviewing his few lines at every opportunity. His favorite place to practice and rehearse his lines was the shower, the echo of the tile deepened and rounded out the tones of his voice. It made him sound somewhat better. He hated hearing his own voice recorded. For some unknown reason, it gave him the creeps. With any luck he'd record the thirty-second interruption and that would be the end of it.
"What the?!" Heero scrolled back on the broadcast monitor. That had looked like Duo—but it couldn't be. He hadn't said anything about that commercial, no matter how Heero had plied him with requests and had plugged him for information. Duo, usually forthcoming in all conversations, had clammed up, been silent, and hadn't said a word. Not even a small one. It was most unlike him.
Heero hit the reverse button on the broadcast feed. And gaped at the monitor in shock and reaction:
"For the man on the move...." Duo in a slick, skin-tight black leather outfit walking down a rain-slicked street to the strong beat and heavy bass of dance music."
"...The pilot on the prowl..." and the scene widened to reveal a nightclub he didn't recognize, blazing with neon and packed with a young, vibrant crowd—who weren't wearing much.
"And when the time is right..." and the camera pulled in to a product beauty shot, with the black labeled box positioned artfully near a candle on an intimate table for two, "...the answer is Impen."
Heero sat back in his chair in shock. He couldn't believe Duo had done it. A condom ad of all things. So that's why he'd been so secretive about the advertisement. Hmm. And a mildly suggestive one, he added, watching Duo dance on the screen—his limbs intertwined with a lithe young female. He chuckled at the flat screen.
Hn, little did the rest of the world know...
Heh, well. That should keep the gossipmongers at bay a while longer. He gave a mental salute to Duo. It was a smart move. And he shut off the newsfeed and went in search of his partner. It was time for confession...
|