DR DEATH DEFYING: Over a car radio. Bad news from the zones tumbleweeds – looks like Jet Star and the Kobra Kid had a clash with an exterminator that went all Costa Rica and, er, got themselves ghosted, dusted out on Route Guano…-

Jennifer is driving her Better Living Industries patrol car sixty miles per hour and a wide-open road. Hearing these words she almost chokes on a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes glaze over, and her foot presses harder on the gas peddle. It’s not until another Industry van drives past her in the opposite direction showing the two crossed out faces of the newly terminated Killjoys, does she realise her speed has steadily increased to a steady ninety-two.

She looks on the electrical wanted billboards at the side of the roads, also showing two less faces on the top ten wanted list, with a running news ticker. Her long fingers, and bitten down finger nails drum on the steering wheel and with a thoughtful pout, she pulls out of the fast lane quickly and drives off the road at the next exit.

DR DEATH DEFYING: So kids, stay outta zones three and seven tonight. Stay safe. Here’s a Party Poison for y’all – enjoy.

The fast pace rhythmic beat fills Jennifer’s car, quickly followed by quicker guitar riffs. She turns it up until her car vibrates. Her lips softly follow along with the lyrics, almost automatically, not really thinking about what she’s singing along with. Her driving on auto-pilot, she takes a left, followed by another, then down a few back street narrow roads, flashing oncoming traffic allowing them right of way, then continuing her journey. Seconds before the end of the song, she pulls over, behind a row of houses. She turns the car off, jumps out and locks it with the key-press as she goes through a garden gate.

Going up to the back door, the street lights are just about to start coming on, some early ones already throwing light, shapes and shadows onto this untidy garden. She runs up the steps and tries to open the door.

Locked.

Rolling her eyes, she begins to knock. Unlike most, who rap on the door a few times then wait for it to be opened, Jennifer continually hits the door, only stopping when she sees the kitchen light flick on and the silhouette of her best friend though the blind at the window.

The door is opened and Jennifer doesn’t even give them a chance to say anything before she barges in past time.

JENNIFER: Take your time.

TIMOTHY: Closing the door . I could have been busy you know.

Jennifer has already started to make her way to the front of the house to the bedroom stairs and goes up them.

JENNIFER: Busy doing what?!

TIMOTHY: Following her. Well…nothing –

JENNIFER: Then you should have answered quicker.

TIMOTHY: Why didn’t you come in the front? It’s open.

JENNIFER: Didn’t want anyone to see me.

In the middle of the bedroom hallway, Jennifer jumps up and grabs the rope, which pulls the steps down leading into the attic.

TIMOTHY: Jen, what are you doing?

She ignores him and goes up the stairs.

Timothy stands looking up for what seems like an age, though mere moments later she comes down and sits on the third step from the top, dragging hard on a cigarette.

TIMOTHY: Relaxing in himself. Smoking is illegal, you know?

JENNIFER: So is supplying them.

TIMOTHY: I’m not supplying anything; you stole that. And actually; supplying isn’t – as long as you pay tax on it – and I do!

JENNIFER: You’re still breaking the law. Standing by and watching someone smoke; especially inside, is a federal crime.

TIMOTHY: And if I try to stop you; you break my arms – a guy can’t win.

Jennifer smiles at him as he hands her a cup to flick her ash into.

TIMOTHY: So what’s brought this on? Shouldn’t you be working?

JENNIFER: I finish in about… She checks her wristwatch. Thirty minutes.

TIMOTHY: Is this a …working visit?

JENNIFER: Why? Done anything The Industry should know about?

TIMOTHY: That depends.

JENNIFER: On what?

TIMOTHY: If you’ve blabbed about what I do…

JENNIFER: She laughs. Relax Tim. Your secrets are safe with me. I need a favour.

TIMOTHY: Hit me.

JENNIFER: Have you heard?

TIMOTHY: About what?

JENNIFER: Jet-Star and Kobra Kid?

TIMOTHY: That they turned over a patrol van that had captured ten Killjoys? Yeah.

JENNIFER: That was weeks ago. Timmy…they were killed today.

Timothy has the same reaction Jennifer had when she heard the news, only this time it takes his breath away and he doubles over coughing. Jennifer docks her cigarette out in the cup and jumps off the ladders. She quickly rubs his back, helping Timothy to get this breath back.

TIMOTHY: Resting against the wall. When did that happen?

JENNIFER: I just heard about it now. It was on ‘Look Alive’.

Timothy runs up the ladders into the attic to his PC. Jennifer follows and pulls the ladders up behind her. A few low watt bulbs, making it difficult to see anything, light the room. The brightest light is from the PC monitor, which Timothy is sitting in front of. He’s frantically searching for something; skim reading, and then typing to bring up another page. Jennifer sits on a box, just to the left of him, she looks around. The walls are covered with Wanted posters. Unknown and famous Killjoys upon them. Some with R.I.P written across them, others with nothing – showing they are still at large.

Jennifer flicks through a scrap book, while Timothy mumbles to himself. She fingers over photographs, some at least ten years old, news paper cuttings. Timothy has been collecting his research on Killjoys for years, for as long as she’s known him. The Killjoy lifestyle has always fascinated him – funny how his life couldn’t be any different in comparison.

She picks up an older looking book; opening it she comes to a double spread newspaper. The headline reads; “Biggest Killjoy raid in history.” With the sub line; “The public can sleep save again, 100’s of Killjoys killed, in a camp located by ‘Get-away-mile’” However, just before she glances down at the article and sees the photography, Timothy speaks out.

TIMOTHY: Reading from the screen. In the early hours of yesterday morning, a group of thirty strong Killjoys were found in an unknown location. After the Government authorised search in the camp, The Industry found legal weapons, plans and evidence of mass attacks of unlawful actions of riots in all major cities, which would have leaded onto killings of innocent bystanders.

Many Killjoys fought the raid from The Industry, and psychically attacked, with guns and weapons, meaning that Better Living had no choice but to defend themselves causing some Killjoys to be killed. The Industry went to the camp with intentions for the search to be peaceful, but when they were violently confronted they had no choice but to retaliate.

Among the Killjoys killed where two men on the ten most wanted list, Jet-Star and Korba Kid, wanted for years, but most recently – ”
It then goes onto say who else was killed and what was found.

JENNIFER: Where you reading that from?

TIMOTHY: Tomorrows headline. Apparently, Killjoys were planning to attack and over take here next week, and then other cities would follow in the coming months, including Detroit, Chicago-

JENNIFER: What?!

TIMOTHY: It’s all bullshit! Killjoys don’t harm civilians.

JENNIFER: The Industry are trying to scare people.

TIMOTHY: And the way this is written, they will do.

JENNIFER: What else does it say?

TIMOTHY: Some people have been captured and are going on trail.

JENNIFER: When?

TIMOTHY: Doesn’t say. Looks like they’re still writing it; few things have been edited.

JENNIFER: Who was captured?

Just as Timothy opens his mouth to read a soft alarm sounds throughout the house rings. Automatically, he goes into his pocket and pulls out a small, clear tube half filled with blue coloured pills.

He takes one.

Jennifer looks at him with a glance of pity, which quickly goes when he looks at her.

JENNIFER: Automatically answering his questioning look. I’ve already had mine.

TIMOTHY: Already?!

JENNIFER: Yeah. I needed it. Took it just after I heard about the raid.

TIMOTHY: Understandable.

JENNIFER: I better get going Timmy. Let me know if you hear anything else.

TIMOTHY: Yeah. I will.

They stand together and as Jennifer opens the hatch to leave, Timothy gets a marker pen and writes R.I.P on two of the wanted posters; Jet-Star and Kobra Kid’s.

TIMOTHY: Another two bite the dust.

It’s spoken without remorse, shock or anger. The total opposite of when he originally heard the news. The blue pill, also known, as ‘happy pills’ or ‘fly ones’, have numbed his feelings, and made everything in his world all better again.

Jennifer walks back through the house to her car. She thinks about everyone in the world. Every one of them, all taking that little blue pill, all at the same time, like clock work, every time that little alarm reminder sounds.

The pills prescribed by Better Living Industries.

The alarm sounded by Better Living Industries.

Better known as BL/ind to the Killjoys of the world.

BL/ind was born over fifty years ago, long before Jennifer was even thought of.

BL/ind was born when society was falling apart, for one reason or another; anti-social behaviour, politics, recession – war.

BL/ind was born to insure the survival of the human race. To keep people in check, and in turn, control their every move, their dreams, their thoughts, right down to their emotions.

The ‘happy pills’ are taken five times a day – every day – from birth to death. They stop people from feeling anything natural, from real happiness to feelings of hurt, pain or sadness.

However, one group of people – The Killjoys – believe without feeling all the negative human emotions, all the depression, despair, anger, envy, betrayal, then you’ll never feel the purest of emotion, the one true feeling we’re naturally almost programmed to feel – love. The feelings of true love, protection, and compassion are what make life worth living.

The Killjoys are the one minority who have been fighting since the birth of BL/ind, and they will put their own lives on the line to bring The Industry down. All in order to free the world from the prison they have no idea there are captured in.

Thoughts of all then fallen Killjoys flood in Jennifer’s mind as she sits in the driving seat of her company car. She sits there, alone, cold and in the dark and the tears start to fall. She cries for everyone who’s been “terminated” for the real war that’s been lost. She sobs for her own selfish wants. Her needs to feel something real from the people around her. She cries for the people she had to leave behind, and she cries from the guilt for the one she needed to forget in order to save herself.

Jennifer wipes away the salty water, starts the engine, and drives away from Timothy’s house.