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A dark-skinned man looks up at the cameraman, proceeding to clear his voice as he turns to look at a watch on his wrist.
"Well," said the host smiling into the camera, "our time is up for today, dear viewers, tune in tomorrow or check our website for the latest on the moment, good night everyone!"
The newscast signal is interrupted. A black color suddenly appears and tints the transmission of the old TV set, ceasing to play the antenna's default channels.
20 seconds later, the screen lights up again, playing several archival images showing various characters, both human and known and unknown species in different situations, the scene repeats for about 30 seconds accompanied by pop music from the 90s. A colorful logo with some engraved words is shown.
"Entrepreneurs From The Beyond."
Soon a scene change is made, showing a blonde woman with light blue eyes, sitting in a studio next to various Halloween decorations. She looks up at her viewers, raising a slight smile.
"Hello everyone, welcome to a new episode of your favorite show, Entrepreneurs Beyond." she mentions with an excited tone. "You already know me, I'm Donna Madison, your host, and today, in our tenth episode, we'll meet a very special person."
The show continues, by means of a sequence represented as cartoons.
"Are you tired of having to go to the supermarket every time you run out of toilet paper? Do you have an intense explosive diarrhea? Can't stand the loneliness generated by today's beauty standards? Our man of the hour has the solution to your digestive problems, he's a walking corpse, he's discreet, he has noble intentions. Meet Michael McCormick, the paperman.
"Sam, would you?" Donna kindly said.
A video similar to those seen on VHS tapes is shown below, accompanied by the song "Stayin' Alive" by Bee Gees. Several scenes are shown showing a partially damaged truck, with spectral characteristics, crossing a completely flat road, surrounded by several autumn-looking trees.
Seconds later, it switches to the interior of the vehicle, where a skeletal entity is shown, completely covered in toilet paper, driving.
"My name is Michael, Michael McCormick," he says in a husky, gravelly voice, as if he came from hell itself, "a guy born in old Tennessee. I'm the founder and sole member of the Purgatory Toilet Emergency Service, or the paper trucker, as I'm often called."
In the next scene, Michael is seen talking to the film crew, who are sitting at an outdoor table in front of a lake.
"I was alive once, yes. These rotting bones don't just sprout out of the ground."
"I was born in 1953 to a middle-class family in Nashville, my father a plumber and my mother a gardener, and we lived decently in the suburbs. Luckily," he said with self-confidence. "I was an only child, so I didn't have to bother dealing with other freaks who wouldn't leave me alone.
"I was always a troublemaker from a young age. There were several times when I would go overboard with others, and sometimes I would end up at least one night in the neighborhood police station, I was quite a rogue, hehe," He said in a mischievous tone of voice.
Shifts to an image of Michael smiling as he smokes a cigarette, while the toilet paper in his mouth caught fire. However, it regenerated again after being consumed by the fire.
"I grew up and never had a wife, nor a family that could really be remarkable. I lived alone most of my life, enjoying life in the best way a sinner could want. A constant alcoholic, heavy smoker, trying to drown my sorrows in the banalities of life. The good life, eh."
He pauses, exhaling large amounts of smoke from his entire body.
"Who am I kidding?" He said annoyed, "I was obviously a piece of shit. A shitty person."
Michael puts the cigarette back in his mouth.
"Let's get straight to the point, I'm already here to tell you how I'm like this."
"Well, then…" He arranges his thoughts nervously "I remember that October was the month I disliked the most, every year all the kids in my neighborhood would throw rolls and rolls of toilet paper at the old tree that my father once planted with my grandfather in his childhood. The poor thing was in terrible condition due to the immense amounts of paper blocking the sun's rays, a pity. I didn't even bother to take it down anyway," he said indifferently.
"One Halloween night, I was on my way home after taking my car to be washed. Everything was going pretty well until then, I was about 20 meters from the house, when suddenly some damn kids crossed my way while they were distracted with their pumpkins full of candy" he says complaining, "I didn't have time to do anything but swerve into the tree, immediately, my car rolled and hit the tree, hence I look like the bone that I am, heh."
"Now, although I died in the crash, I somehow managed to regain consciousness. Strangely I was unable to move, I tried to raise my voice, but no one was listening. I felt as if I was trapped and suffocated, as if I was trapped inside a tree, and what do you think, it was true! People who saw the event ran to what was left of my car. As the neighbors arrived at the location of my corpse, I began to see how it slowly crawled into the ground, for God's sake, it was as if it was being eaten!" he says excitedly, looking for the attention of the other guys.
"The damn tree absorbed my body, probably from so much toilet paper it was possessed by a Halloweenesque curse or something, I have no idea. It's not like I was making excuses for a scientific article hook," he says with a slow chuckle, "I was suffocating in there all night.
"The day after, the first of November, I could feel in the morning how I could move again, but I was no longer in this world."
"My soul had been hauled to hell, which didn't surprise me anyway," he exclaimed, "I already deserved it. I spent months being tortured as they burned me in the eternal flames, once a torture no one would want, now my daily bread.
The set completely changes scene. Michael appears cleaning his truck with a bucket of soap and water and a worn out sponge.
"But, it wasn't so bad, you know? After a time of torture, I was informed that all the spirits of the underworld had the option of returning to earth every October, exclusively for them to try to redeem themselves from their sins in life, serving the purgatory community service, so that the damned could achieve better deeds, which would perhaps improve their condition of post-mortem. Clearly I accepted" he said, "it was an opportunity I could not miss, this was the beginning of a new page for me", he said with a serene tone in his voice, as if that was what he had always wanted.
"I emerged as a rotting skeleton from the tree in which I died, my body turned into an infinite toilet paper generating machine, having merged with the essence of the tree itself. Back on topic, purgatory community service defines your service through the situation in which you died, what do I do, you ask:"
Michael picks up the camera and makes a gesture pointing his left finger at the viewer.
"I hand out toilet paper." He says to the audience with a clear tone of irony.
"Well, that aside, do you want to see me in action?"
The scene shifts to a night scene, on the outskirts of a city. The accompanying cameraman focuses on Michael in the driver's seat.
Speaking in a calm tone, as he felt the coolness of the night on the road on his face, "From the 1st to the 31st, the whole month of October, 24 hours a day. I go from zone to zone, tracking down my clients to leave them paper through small trees in pots. that have toilet paper on them, I guess they work as their fruits," he said unsure of what he said.
Michael pokes around in his eye sockets, pulling out a seed.
2These beauties grow in a matter of seconds. I can grow them to any size I want. From small Bonsai to huge sequoias, I have a whole arsenal in my hands, brother!"
The cameraman focuses the camera on the seed, while Michael plays with it in his right hand.
"Do you live on the east coast of the United States?, do you have the urge to shit, pee or do improper things," he says in a mocking tone, "and there's no paper in your house? These seeds are like compasses attracted to the north, so I will always know where you are without you noticing. On top of that, this thing comes in a matter of a few minutes, noiseless, stealthy as a kitten" saying the last in a low voice.
The vehicle seems to have gone over a hole in the road, several otherworldly roars sound from inside the bumper, specifically in the engine.
"Don't pay attention to it, you don't want to know how this thing works" he said seriously to his companion.
About 30 seconds later, a seed pops out of Michael's right eye socket, being drawn in a westerly direction.
"Perfect. We've got work to do…"
The scene of the transmission changes. The backyard of a house is observed.
The two guys get out of the truck, they appear to have parked behind a grove of trees that leads directly into the yard.
"Are you recording?" Michael says.
"Yes, continue." The cameraman says in a soft, masculine voice.
"Well," Michael exclaims, "let's get to work".
Michael takes a pot that he pulls out of his rib cage and puts a seed inside it. A small sized plant grows out of it, and from its branches, a standard roll of toilet paper grows. The subjects walk to the back of a house and find themselves in front of a bathroom on the second floor of the house. Michael places the pot on the floor. A few seconds later, the branch with toilet paper on it extends toward the window, piercing it without causing any apparent damage. The individual inside can be seen, who does not notice the branches of the plant. He expresses a look of satisfaction when he sees the roll of toilet paper.
"They watched and learned!" said Michael smugly, "it's that simp-
A female scream interrupts Michael, coming from the bathroom where the client was.
"So you're beating it with those big women!" A female voice exclaims exaggeratedly, coming from the same bathroom.
"MOM!!!! Says the guy who was previously in the bathroom, awakening a high-pitched voice typical of a pre-teenager.
"John, our work is done here, to the truck!" he said in fright.
The female figure seems to notice the presence of the two guys, so she opens the bathroom door.
"Who's in there?" shouts the woman.
"Holy shit," Michael says in a low voice, "Run!"
The two men head for the car, Michael starts the engine and drives off towards the outskirts of the neighborhood. Losing sight of it two minutes later.
"Well…" Michael exclaimed in relief.
Michael lifts his thumb, a celebratory sound effect, simulating his success sounds in the form of trumpets and saxophones.
"We had a hiccup, of course," he said somewhat apologetically. "But even professionals make mistakes, and this experience has only taught me to do my best, and to consider better strategies in the future."
"Professionals have standards," he said with all the confidence in the world, "efficiency is the key, my friends."
"Anything else you'd like to say?" John said quietly to try not to interrupt the recording, "We're going to finish now."
"Oh…" said Michael discouraged.
Michael is silent for a few seconds.
"No, not really," said the undead man slowly. "This is my job, not for profit, my new life, in my previous one I was a piece of shit, honestly. Now I'm trying to make up for this whole thing, thriving to be a better version of myself, prevailing in solidarity above all."
"If you need me, viewers," he says confidently, "I'll be there."
"I'm Michael McCormick, the paperman."
The recording cuts out. Donna's female voice is heard again as the camera focuses on her studio.
"Mr. Michael," the woman says, touched, "a humble worker left us with his inspiring redemption. Truly, a true entrepreneur, and a figure to follow."
"But," she says somewhat impatiently, "unfortunately our time is up, tune in next week for more events with us, good night.
The program credits roll, while a male voice announces the content of the next episode.
"See us next week!" A male voice exclaims enthusiastically, "with the touching story of Triskaideka, an enterprising little cartoon who managed to build an economic empire through his "special deals", even reaching the top of the SCP Foundation's board of directors, discover his secret to success in the next episode, only on the chan-"
The screen stops transmitting the program, returning to the newscast that was transmitted previously, all the members of the studio are talking, most of them look confused, while the silent atmosphere is interrupted by the horn of a truck in the distance.
" You're Stayin' Alive, Stayin' Alive…"