“Clark…. Country wide interest in metas is going down the drain, again.” Florence said. She twirled her finger above her computer screen showing a line graph.
Clark Sanders never wanted to leave the forties, as outwardly indicated by his beige work shirt and suspenders. People had class back then and, to him, the modern world was nothing but bad music and sensationalism. He slicked his burgundy hair back and walked over to Florence.
“Are they complaining about how EnWol are too powerful again, Dilly.”
The graph illustrated overall interest in meta humans and how it has been declining since the second world war. There was a sharp rise in 1977 when Meta Corps subsidiaries, Aviator Films released the first modern and well-made EnWol movie, with Cave Comix releasing tie-in comic books. Since the start of the millennium, interest and sales have declined, with the lowest point being in autumn of 1992. The company had extremely high insurance issues from citywide crime fighting coupled with general utilities and other fees. There were predictions that said that Meta Corps would collapse in 2012 unless they either came out with a killer franchise or forced a global takeover.
Florence shook her head.
“We can’t have any more slopes or else we’ll have to close some branches.” She said. She fingered the line from the war and traced it up and down into the present. Clark shrugged.
“Well, at least the mutations are prevalent enough so that there’s a steady trickle coming in for medical study and power harnessing. Hey, I still think that hiring on writers that paint EnWol as overpowered is part of the problem. Barely anyone knows how to write us and it comes off badly. It’s a danger to the innocents that drives good stories, not EnWol.”
Florence nodded.
“Our greatest gift is our greatest curse, although, I’m not sure if that trickle that you mentioned will be enough.” Florence said. She started to think aloud.
“Our students and heroes pay for their own tuition, but there isn’t an insurance firm that will touch us; that’s what’s been killing us for the longest time now…”
Clark walked around the desk.
“We could look at a merger with someone, or license some of our lesson plans out to drum up interest. Give up the monopoly.”
Florence leaned back in her seat.
“I don’t know. I had thought of that a while ago, but I’m worried that our own tactics will be used against us. Aviator is too overblown to be practical, but actually exporting our services to others…” Florence trailed off.
Clark cracked his knuckles out of habit; his EnWol hands bent in random directions.
“I know that in this job you can afford to be paranoid, what with every single person signing non-disclosure agreements, but it might help us out.”
Clark stretched his neck out to study the monitor again.
“At least the entertainment district isn’t making us look like fools anymore.”
Florence laughed at his remark, remembering her cartoon from the eighties that gave eco-friendly advice without any entertainment value. She leaned back to reminisce.
Clark retracted his neck and made his way to the window. He frowned and focused his attention to a point in the sky behind the trees.
“You know what the worst part about The Little Squirts is?” Florence asked.
“What’s that?” He asked with an odd quality.
“The distributer is capitalizing on the nostalgia niche with shirts and videos. I told them that…” Florence stopped. She frowned.
Clarks question was right, but the tone was wrong. She stretched her neck out to his side and joined him without leaving her seat. Clark glanced at her and pointed at a dark, pulsating cloud peaking up over the tree line.
“I haven’t the foggiest idea what that is,” Florence said, “but it looks bad. Call for a dispatch, I’ll see who’s available”
Clark nodded, fingering an imaginary pole sticking out of his mouth.
“I wish I had a cigarette… being EnWol has made it hard to use… or, hey, even really want one.”
Florence resumed her normal shape.
“What would the Little Squirts think of that?” She said with a playful smile. Clark chuckled as the dark cloud in the distance raged.