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Fiction Funny Gay

This story contains themes or mentions of suicide or self harm.

Twelve-year-old Curtis Warren drives across a barren road at dawn. He needs a booster seat to reach the pedals. On the radio is an interview between him and a vapid journalist.

'Curtis Warren stars in the endearing family sitcom `'Small Packages' as the adorable Timmy. It's a delightful sitcom about a same-sex couple trying to raise a child, who is actually a 42-year-old Member of Parliament, in a conservative neighborhood. Now he's taking a dramatic turn with his new film `'Looking for Iceberg'. Now, I understand, Mr. Warren, that `Looking for Iceberg' isn't a comedy.' The journalist says.

His nails gouge divots into the steering wheel as he hears himself respond on the radio. 'No, quite the contrary. It's quite a serious exploration of identity and what it means to be human. The `Iceberg' in the film's title does not refer to frozen water, but the name of a Yiddish merchant living in the Pale of Settlement in early 20th century Russia.'

'Sounds intense. Is it true you survived only on a pound of snow per day to get into character?' The journalist asks.

'Yes, I needed to live in destitute conditions to understand the mindset of my character. When you avoid the luxuries of modern living, you truly understand what is valuable and what is expendable.' Curtis responds.

'Yes, valuable.' The journalist says and Curtis begins to cringe. 'I'm sure the money you make from syndication you make from 'Small Packages' helped you fund this project, right? As well as your clout from--'

Curtis interrupts before the journalist can put his foot in his mouth. 'The film is Yiddish and Russian with English subtitles, and it tells the story of a Jewish boy's relationship with his devout father. Vladimir Iceberg is a young boy who perceives the ability to see the past, present, and future at the beginning of Shavuot. It blends these science- fiction elements with historical themes in a postmodern narrative, making both Vladimir and the viewer question who is who and what is what until we're all looking for Iceberg.'

'So how would Timmy react to your character in Looking for Iceberg? I love Timmy. He's such an adorable character, trying to be taken seriously by his dads all the time. What's that thing he says? 'Now ya talkin'' You have such great chemistry with your on-screen da--' Curtis turns the radio off before the journalist finishes his sentence.

Alone with his own thoughts, he parks his car, turns the engine off, and sighs. He pauses for a moment before finally getting out. He opens the boot, retrieves a hose, and places one end into the exhaust pipe and the other into his open window. Before he enters the car, he gets a cigarette out of his pocket and lights up, gazing at the sunrise.

Back to business. After enjoying the cigarette, he gets back into his car to do the deed. He turns the key in the ignition, but the engine won’t start. He looks at the empty fuel gauge. He takes a jerry can from the boot of the car and begins to walk along the quiet road.

Curtis sees a petrol station on the horizon. When he arrives, he notices a wreath with roses and a framed photo of a child. He stops and contemplates this for a moment. It reads ‘Our beloved son, Malcolm. 06/04/1996 - 22/01/2009. May he rest in peace'.

Inside the station, a man with a name badge reading ‘Steve’ is watching a sitcom. On the screen, the title card flashes - Small Packages - and a saccharine jingle tells the story of a same-sex couple raising an adopted son in a conservative neighborhood. Steve is counting the money from the till from the previous night. He calls out ‘Paul! Where are you? I can't find the role of quarters that were here. PAUL!’

Curtis makes his way down the aisle, famished from the long walk. A big, boorish man with the name tag ‘Paul’ comes down the stairs with packing boxes full of old clothes and Adam Sandler DVDs. ‘I think that's the last of it.’ Paul lowers the boxes down and looks up to the TV. 

‘Paul, I need you to get those applications for the room, we can't afford to wait on this.’ Steve pleads.

‘Yeah, yeah, top right drawer in the office.’ Paul responds still looking up at the TV. He starts laughing at a visual gag. Timmy walks out wearing a dress ‘Now ya talkin’’, Timmy’s catchphrase bellows from the television. Curtis cringes.

Steve hurries into the back office. Suddenly, a commercial break begins. Beethoven’s Für Elise plays, accompanied by somber Yiddish narration. Paul points to the TV and excitedly yells to Steve ‘What’s that kid’s name from this movie?’.

Steve looks up bewildered still trying to unlock the drawer in the office. ‘I haven't seen that movie’.

‘I know you haven't seen it. It's not out yet, but what’s that kid’s name on the screen?’ Paul asks.

Curtis makes his way over to the counter. 

Steve pulls out the rent application forms. ‘Paul. I didn't want the application forms. You're meant to take care of that. I wanted that roll of coins’ 

Paul turns around. ‘Oh yeah, they’re here in my pocket. Here you go.’ Paul throws them towards Steve and Steve fumbles the roll of coins but holds on. ‘Steve, what is that kid’s name? I'm so close!’ 

Steve makes his way over to the counter and looks up and says ‘Curtis Warren!’ surprised. 

‘Yes! That’s it!’ Paul exclaims.

Curtis approaches the counter. Steve looks at the television, and back to Curtis, and back to the television.

‘EFTPOS?’ Curtis wheezes.

‘No, just cash’ Steve says apologetically.

Curtis sighs and obliges.

‘Are you--?’ Steve asks.

‘No.’ Curtis says curtly ‘I’m not from around here’. Curtis looks around and sees his face plastered on cereal boxes and bottles of soft drink. His eyes glaze over. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake!’

‘Wait a minute!’ Paul exclaims ‘You’re Timmy!’

‘Correction, I portray the character ‘Timmy’. Can you believe audiences are unsophisticated enough to watch that pile of shit?’ Curtis pontificates.

Steve tries to stand up assertively, but hits his head in the process, ‘Hey! We’re not unsophisticated! We eat at Grill’d.’ 

Curtis raises his eyebrow at that comment.

Paul points at Curtis, ‘We recognised your features under all of that make-up you wear for the show.’

‘Congratulations, boys. I get multiple injections done daily so I can maintain the body of a prepubescent boy.’

Steve and Paul look at each other, puzzled. 

‘Could you say your catchphrase?’ Steve asks.

‘We could always pay for your petrol.’ Paul offers, before Steve gives him a look. Steve lets him go once he notices how excited Paul is.

Curtis stares blankly at the two men. ‘Now ya talkin’!’

Steve and Paul give Curtis a standing ovation.

Curtis sighs, ‘You don’t, by any chance, have a room for rent?’

Steve and Paul look at each other with excitement.

July 29, 2023 13:30

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1 comment

Addy Parker
11:51 Sep 26, 2023

how can a twelve year old drive, why would he need a booster seat to reach the pedals if the pedals are lower and booster seats make you go higher, lastly why would a twelve year old play a 42 year old man

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