Bottled Milk

Act II - The Next Day

Scene 1 - Socialism

11:22 AM, June 28 of 2033. The sun shines again on Xander Noam's face again, and the room looks the same. His clothes, all bloodied up and dirtied on top of the washing machine inside his big-ass bathroom, with his white mask there too, also bloodied up.

Xander checks his phone that's by his side, and checks the time.

Xander: Ugh, what time is it?

Xander checks his phone.

Xander: Ugh! It's so damn early! Why?!

Xander expresses virtual and visible disgust commingled in with a bit of bemused concern.

Xander gets up, and goes about his normal morning routine.

11:25 AM. Xander checks his mail on his phone as he eats a nice morning meal of Fruit Loops with almond milk and some nice, plump raspberries, with 2 glasses: one filled with normal tap water; the other filled with sprite mixed with half a sachet of instant coffee.

Xander gets interrupted: he hears a knock on the door.

*knock knock*

Xander: Hmm, I wonder who could that be.

He approaches the door, but not before wearing a white robe as he is wearing nothing but a white shirt and blue boxers from Calvin Klein.

He answers the door.

*door opening*

He does this despite having a peephole: he didn't look to see who it was.

And who appears before him is a scruffy-looking gentleman clad in a red business suit and tie, blue suede shoes, with 70's sunglasses, a faded, decaying afro, and a knuckle in his shirt pocket.

Xander: Futherstrom?

Futherstrom Cronkite: Xander.

They then engage in a manly, friendship embrace.

Xander: What are you doing here, so early, too? I thought you were visiting your family in Belgium?

Futherstrom: I... uh, had to cut it short. I received a call from Schmenderick... you beat Teo Dendrich?

Xander: Uh... Yeah, that's right... Should we take this not out here? You mind coming in?

Futherstrom: Oh, no, not at all. I also do prefer this matter be kept... eh, private.

Xander then lets Futherstrom in, and talks business while drinking date tea.

It's being taken place in his seldom-used dining table.

Xander: What is it you want us to talk about?

Futherstrom: Listen, we're good friends... right?

Xander: ...ok?

Futherstrom: You saved my ass back in college.

Xander: Yeah, John Hopkins was fun.

Futherstrom: You saved my life, too.

Xander: From that terrorist in 11'? I saved your wife, too.

Futherstrom: She's dead. Tuberculosis.

Xander: Umm... I'm sorry.

Futherstrom: But she left me with 3 beautiful children. And so I gave them a nurturing mother. Her name's Alice.

Xander: Congrats?

Futherstrom: One of them's headed off to college. My sweet Calanthe's off to Otis College of Art and Design. Hee hee hee, she's gonna become an artist! My sweet, cute and perfectly adorable Calanthe. And if I see a guy trying to make the moves on her, I'm sending him back to his parents' place in a gurney, you hea-