Jacob
Scene: 1
My name is Jacob Tashoff, and I bet you’re wondering how I got here.
SOUND: RECORD SCRATCH
Everything I am about to tell you is one hundred percent true. Except for the parts that are made up. But don’t worry about that. I sit here, cloaked in the darkness, on the verge of greatness. My story is nearing its climax. A climax so violent, so awe-inspiring and earth-shattering, that the only medium within which it can be contained is the podcast.
Let’s start at the beginning. When I was but a wee lad–no. No, that doesn’t sound right. When I was young, I became a page to the greatest knight in all the land: my grandmother. I was then knighted by the greatest king in all the land: also my grandmother. Queen would be more accurate than king, I suppose.
But yeah. I am definitely a completely real and not fake at all knight. I’ve got three hundred dollars worth of costuming that says so. There are many things that come along with being a knight, I’ve learned.
A knight must always maintain the code of chivalry. I think I’m doing a pretty decent job so far at that, too. Ok, well this just got a bit awkward. I’ve just pulled out my handy-dandy Code of Chivalry Pocket Edition[U+0099] to make sure that I’m keeping the code I swore to keep, and it turns out I’ve done a pretty poor job.
Let’s see: Fear God. Nope. Can’t say I do that. Serve the liege lord in valor and faith. We don’t even have liege lords anymore! Refrain from the wanton giving of offense. Who wrote this thing?
Whatever! Screw the code of chivalry. I’ll be a hedge knight. Or a knight errant. Those are the same thing. I’ve lost track of my own story. Where was I? Oh, yes. I’m a knight.
This knighthood bestowed upon me by my grandmother was the greatest gift I ever received, for it allowed me to set out across the land and hunt down the most fearsome beast to walk the land: spiders. Or dragons. Dragons are cooler. I’ll go with dragons.
And so with my house crest stamped proudly on my standard I set off in search of any and all dragons I could find and slay. To my chagrin, dragons seemed to exist only within the pages of books. No matter, thought I, I will take the fight to the dragons! Never again shall they feel safe nestled in the spine of a novel!
I’m also a writer. And guess what I write about? That’s right. Satan. And dragons, and dragons. I’m just yanking your chain. I get yelled at for writing about dragons sometimes, but it’s the only reliable way I’ve found to hunt them down. I’ll pit the steel of my pen against the ink of their wings any day, and almost always come out on top. As the writer, I tend to have the power to decide the fate of those I craft on the page. Most of the time. Sometimes my fingers get ahead of me and the hero gets kababed before I even knew what happened.
Such is the way life goes, I suppose. But I digress. Again. The freedom to give life to unique worlds and characters is what pulled me from my knightly duties in the direction of the work of scribes, and I must say, it certainly has its merits. Much less dangerous than galavanting around the countryside waving pointy sticks in the air, I have to say. And that brings us full circle.
As I outlined however long ago I outlined it, I am nearing the climax of my story. And as college students, I suppose we all are. We are about to be set loose into the world with nothing but the clothes on our backs and flimsy Creative Writing degrees. Except for those smart enough to pick up an extra major. Which was not me.
The world is a big scary place, and we all need that knight who’ll be there to fight off the scary dragons of the corporate mosh pit. Maybe. I don’t know. I’m a creative writer. I don’t know how the corporate world works! But so I will clad myself in the real armor in my closet, and the fake armor in my stories, and set out into the vast unknown of the real world, hoping to conquer–
SOUND: DOOR OPENING
Hey! What are you doing in here?!
Wha–I’m recording a podcast!
This is the janitor’s closet! You can’t be in here. How’d you even get in here in the first place?
Same way you did! Let me just finish this recording real quick–hey, hey, alright, I’m going. No need to get handsy.
Well, it’s been real, and I’ve been Jacob Tashoff. Now you know how I got here. Through the door.