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“We all could use a change of scene.”
Some imperceptible amount of time ago, the Narrator was born with these words.
Not in the sense that he came into being and his life began from whole cloth. He’d already had a life before, after all. Still, it would be a mistake to even refer to that past in the same breath as… everything he had now. The life of the cosmopolitan stage’s side commentator, far from a new chapter, was a slow consumption that burned anything prior away into obscurity. With the omniscience it granted, any name he might have had before was lost to the sequin vests, bombastic performances, and perfect knowledge of every step taken in the city of Schmicago.
The city which might as well have been interchangeable with him now.
The rules were simple; he had taken on this mantle out of pure hubris, believing he could puppeteer the city and be the leading player of a stage he created. Instead, the cursed leprechaun gave him…
Well, he gave him all of that, to be fair. Along with the added responsibility of overseeing lost newcomers who were exactly like he’d been once. Inviting them in, guiding them to think about their lives or whatever nonsense. The path he led them down always had one end; going out in a blaze of glory.
The international sensation. The demon butcher. The iron king.
Whatever the name, stars burned bright and fast.
Building myths around them was simply a matter of waiting for them to explode. If he failed to catch a single success story… he knew the ways of fate better than anyone; the explosion he so gleefully observed would befall him too.
~~
Welcome.
He’d greeted unsuspecting passersby with an unsettlingly practiced smile far too many times. All he’d ever had to do was flash a few lights in their faces, lure them in with the seductive appeal of the flashier residents, and keep them in with promises that would never come to pass until they sang and danced to their graves.
Trapped. But happy.
When new company came in the form of Doctors Skinner and Gimble, he needed no instruction. At a glance, he read every line of discontentment etched on their faces. Townspeople sauntered out in synchronized droves, leaving no doubt as to what he was supposed to do.
And for what it was worth, he did a damn good job. Or so he thought, until the demonstration prompted only… baffled silence.
He stared pointedly past them into an imaginary audience, plastering on a smile. “Thank you!”
They got the hint, granting him the overdue applause. Some things, he just had had to make happen himself, for the good of the show. He proceeded to unfurl the banner, made for them specifically. It was time to see whether these visitors really did have what it took.
If it were up to him, the answer wouldn’t have mattered, because he would have slapped the ending in their faces, dragging them kicking and screaming toward their lesson. But that wasn’t how the place worked.
He just had to hang on. Maybe this time, they’ll win, the treacherous thought sprang up before he could stop it.
Out of the corner of his vision, the neon lights just barely revealed the suited leprechaun closing in toward the car. Burying any hopes deep down, he strode onward to prolong the visitors’ stay.
~~
How does it feel to be their fantasy?
Even after all these years, his city amazed and enraged him in equal measure. He didn’t live in it, not really. No more than the roads or billboards did. Quite frankly, he found the endless baggage of residents difficult to keep track of. He might as well have been his own best friend.
But there was no room for such nuance when he sold it to lost souls. He went through the motions, following the two every step of the way; spectacular distraction, framing for murder, watching them scramble in vain to break free.
He switched seamlessly, between the Kratt Klubb and the junkyard, as the two did their best to deny how much they wanted to be there in frantic search of their happy ending.
Theoretically, he had to ensure they learned lessons too, but he had long since given up on anyone granting him that merciful exit. Besides, the rhythm had become so second-nature, he should have been afraid to get rid of it.
He kept that thought firmly in mind as he sealed their fates with the bastard Kratt.
As he masterfully surrounded them with company tailor made to appeal to their desires.
He lost it in a rare moment of frustration that might have cost him the city.
“You’re not helpful!” Melissa yelled after him as he left.
There it is, he thought disdainfully. Did it ever occur to these people that the world wasn’t made to serve them? Maybe he was tired of helping stars who clearly had no intention of accepting it. “You’re not either!” he shot back before he could stop himself.
The next thing he knew, the stars had taken that too seriously. They were playing matchmaker and inadvertently enabling cannibalism. He wasn’t exactly one to talk, with all the fires he set in his time, but still. Every time he looked at them, he wondered how they let the things they did get so out of hand.
Whether or not they passed the test, would they leave anything in their wake?
Or maybe… they were molding the city to their liking. If they went far enough with this act, they could put him out of a job.
He kept a close eye on their followings and took a much needed backseat. This was about to get interesting.
~~
Every day can be a happy beginning…
One chandelier’s fall granted every resident of Schmicago the happiness they craved so much. His own ending, if it truly was coming and he wasn’t just deluding himself, was still up in the air.
He wanted such a little thing from life. He wanted so much.
He clung to the possibility of getting it with manic desperation as he gathered everyone together to give Josh and Melissa one last tempting offer. Stay. The two considered it for what might have either been two minutes, or an eternity. For once, watching them bare their souls, he couldn’t talk himself out of hope. He interjected with arguments even he himself didn’t believe, willing them to get the message.
Mercifully, they turned to the gathered crowd with knowing smiles. “Sorry,” Melissa spoke up, “we’re gonna miss you guys.”
He couldn’t believe this was happening. He rattled off some empty platitude about the drudgery of life. They must have responded well, because in a puff of smoke, sweet vindication came. After far too long, he had done it.
That was it. The Narrator was no more. He passed the baton on, bowed out, died in every meaningful sense of the word. As the crowd marched forth and dispersed, he watched the couple fade into the distance with pride. They weren’t the only ones with a new life ahead.
The city was reborn along with him. When the Kratt factories’ smog dissolved, sapphire skies emerged. He feasted his belly on the best pies in town, feasted his eyes on a stunning star performer whom he couldn't be luckier to know.
With the power vested in him by the city, he’d known everything about everything, except he hadn’t, because he might as well have been a stranger to himself.
That was about to change.
The fire had gone out. Now, he could learn to be free.