Perfectly Scarred

The Loser Standing Small

"Whistleblowers!" They shout.

"Open the door!"

"I'm afraid I can't," George says, cool as anything, through the door.

"We're locked in and we can't open it. I think you'll have to break down the door."

Despite what's going on, Whistleblowers about to break down the door to take me away, it's so easy to be sucked into George's blasé view of the world.

I feel as cool as he is acting. Though I know that is only for appearance's sake; a man who is vegan and decorates his entire office in faux human trophies just to make a point, and spends his life fighting for justice for others, isn't blasé about anything.

Perhaps that's why I'm smiling, because I know that beneath all the jokes, he means business.

"Stand back, we're going to breach the door," one shouts, and we do. I expect to hear a mechanical lock pick but instead there's a bang on the door.

"A sledgehammer," George says, leaning against the wall, arms folded.

"They came prepared."

There's a second bang against the door.

"What's going on?" Judge Ramirez says, firing herself out of her bedroom, and in a flap. I wonder if she got to negotiate with Dahee yet. If my life has been traded for her power.

"Whistleblowers are here," I explain calmly.

"What?" She looks from me to George in horror. Our calm demeanors are no doubt rattling her even more.

"No. They can't be." BANG.

"Oh well, They are," George backs me up, and pops a mint into his mouth.

"I daresay we wouldn't hear the whistles from all the way up here." I say

Her face crinkles up.

"What?" She is so unsettled, it is amusing.

BANG.

"What are they doing?"

"Breaching the door," George explains.

"What? Why? Hello! Helloo! Please stop!"

"Because we're locked in, you locked us in" I explain.

She attempts her authoritative voice but she can't be heard from the other side of the door, where the Whistleblowers are concentrating hard on knocking it down with a sledgehammer.

The door finally caves in. Judge Ramirez jumps back as sawdust, wood, and part of a sledgehammer come flying in on her plush carpet. There are a dozen Whistleblowers outside.

"Judge Ramirez," one young man says, breaking through the door and stepping in.

"We received information that Roseanne Park is here. Are you okay?" Judge Ramirez looks at him in disgust, at her carpet, at her silk shirt covered in woodchips and sawdust.