Father Lance Goodison Makes a Decision

The camera views an elementary school play yard crowded with children in activity. A pack of boys are chasing a football, all of them trying to get their hands on it at the same time. A group of girls are chasing each other, shrieking with glee as they poke at each other, declaring "you're it!". In a corner, a lone boy sits, handling an action figure. The camera zooms out, and reveals Father Lance Goodison sitting on a bench some distance off. He is slouching, and his gaze is burdened with melancholy. He is muttering to himself.

Lance: I had a hard enough time convincing people to do good when I had a congregation. I used to convince people to lay off the bottle, or to speak nicely of their neighbors, and that was hard enough. Now, I'm actually trying to stop them from killing each other. And it feels... hopeless!

A young girl in jeans, black boots, and a college sweater that is too big for her abruptly appears. She heads directly for Lance Goodison. Chewing on a huge, pink lump of gum, she inelegantly slumps onto the bench that Lance is seated on, leaving him visibly perplexed.

Lance: And... who might you be, young lady?

Girl: I'm Vanessa Sparks! Freelance journalist!

Lance: Really...?

Vanessa: I'm here to interview you! On behalf of the CFWA, of course. Michael Hunt had an accident, and they are letting me be his stand-in until he recovers! I love it!

Lance: Oh. I'm sad to hear that. Michael Hunt is a nice fellow. I doubt that he would have many sins to confess.

Vanessa: You know nothing! He eats gross amounts of donuts! And he leaves the toilet seat up! And often, when he thinks I'm not looking, he picks his nose. I mean, eww!

Vanessa flails her fists in an annoyed gesture, and flashes a disgusted grimace.

Lance: Well... What happened to Michael anyway?

Vanessa: You haven't heard!? Someone flattened his foot with a sledge hammer!

Vanessa Sparks bends over, laughing. She stands in odd contrast to Father Lance Goodison whose facial expression freezes in a gray mask of disbelief. Suddenly, he stands up, dusts off his shirt and passes Vanessa Sparks a brief glance over his shoulder, his eyes alight with determination.

Lance: A pleasure to speak to you, Miss Sparks. Please excuse me, but I have business to attend to.

Lance Goodison starts off, and Vanessa Sparks shouts after him.

Vanessa: Wait! Dontcha wanna know who did it!?

Walking toward the camera, Lance does not look back, but as he passes the camera by, he whispers an almost inaudible response.

Lance: No need, Vanessa, dear. I have a suspicion.

Lance disappears, Vanessa remaining seated on the bench. The screen fades to black as she indelicately stretches a long string of bubble gum from her mouth and idly twirls it around a finger before reinserting it into her mouth.

Father Lance Goodison smiles to Dragonfist, and warmly shakes his hand.

Lance: Like I said when I first came to this federation, I see many threats, but I see many more friends. I would be honored to consider you one of them, Dragonfist. I do not have anything in particular that I need from you right now - along with The Mask of Fury, I intend to beat Scott Manson and The Zilla Killa fair and square. I will not stoop to their use of dirty tricks, not even if I were to take a sledge hammer shot myself, like Mask of Fury did. No, that is not the way I work, and that is what makes will make a victory so much stronger. Manson and Killa are trying to tip the odds in their favor, using every means necessary. And despite the disadvantage of turning up unarmed on Shipwrecked, we will prevail. Only then will people know for sure that we were meant to win. Because we are. Not for lust of gold. No. It is the desire for justice and righteousness that drives us.

Lance looks to the sky. It is clear blue, almost cloudless.

Lance: And when Manson and Zilla Killa have atoned, I will take their hands, and tell them not to worry. All that they have done, however horrid, will be forgotten. They will be free. And so will we all. From fear and tyranny. Thank you so much for your offer, Mr. Dragonfist. I promise to tell you straight away if I need your help. Right now, I'll be fine on my own, because someone who does the right thing does not need a safety net. No, we will not fail.

Lance nods amiably to Dragonfist and walks on down the road.