The man in the shiny suit did not walk; he presented.
He stood in the doorway of the Meow & Bow, framed by the chaotic white void outside where Moby Dick was currently wrestling a Martian Tripod. His teeth were blindingly white, his suit was a shade of blue that didn't exist in nature, and his briefcase hummed with the sound of a thousand focus groups.
"Hello, New Seattle!" the man boomed, spreading his arms wide. "I am Barry 'The Buzz' Bannington, Executive Producer for the Syndication Network. And let me tell you, you guys are content gold!"
Elara Vance lowered her rolling pin. She looked at the rest of her team. They were covered in dust, ink, and dragon drool.
"We're not content," Elara said wearily. "We're people. We just saved the universe from copyright infringement. We're tired."
"Tired is good!" Barry grinned, stepping inside without asking. "Tired reads as authentic. It reads as gritty. The 18-34 demographic loves gritty!"
"Who invited you?" Jen asked, stepping forward with her Managerial Glare. "This is a private establishment. Also, we are technically floating in a legal vacuum. You have no jurisdiction."
"Jurisdiction?" Barry laughed. He set his briefcase on a table. It opened automatically, projecting a hologram of a pie chart that was entirely green. "Sweetheart, I don't need jurisdiction. I have Signal Strength."
He pointed out the window.
"Look at that mess. The Public Domain. It's a jungle out there. Without a Copyright Shield, you're open season for every knock-off, bootleg, and fan-edit in the multiverse. How long before a swarm of generic zombies eats your supply chain? How long before a Public Domain superhero crashes through your roof?"
As if on cue, a man in tight spandex and a cape flew past the window, screaming, "I AM CAPTAIN GENERIC! I HAVE NO BACKSTORY!"
He smashed into the 5G tower, bounced off, and spiraled into the void.
"See?" Barry tsked. "Unsafe. Unstable. Unmonetized."
"And you can fix it?" Elara asked.
"I can offer you The Network Shield," Barry said. "We broadcast your signal to the Multiverse. We put you on the air. As long as you are 'On Air', you are protected by the Rules of Syndication. No one can cancel a show with high ratings."
"And the catch?" Aldren Vance asked, leaning forward. He had managed to clean the ketchup off his suit, but he still looked like a vampire who had been through a washing machine.
"No catch!" Barry promised. "We just... film you. 24/7. We turn your daily lives into a Reality Series. The Real Housewives of the Void Ocean. Keeping Up with the Draculas. We're still workshopping the title."
"Absolutely not," Li Wusheng said, crossing his arms. "I am a serious streamer. I control my own narrative. I will not be edited for drama."
"Li, baby," Barry pointed a finger gun at him. "You're an indie streamer. We're offering you Network numbers. We're talking Super Bowl ads. We're talking a Funko Pop line."
Li's eyes widened. "A... Funko Pop?"
"Li, don't listen to him," Elara warned. "It's a trap. It's always a trap."
"It's a paycheck," Jen whispered. She held up the cafe's ledger. It was just a drawing of a sad face. "Elara, we have zero gold. We have no fuel. We have a city full of refugees and no infrastructure. If we don't get funding, the Meow & Bow becomes a soup kitchen."
Elara looked at her team. They were broke, hungry, and drifting in a sea of madness.
"Fine," Elara sighed. "But we have conditions. No scripted drama. No fake fights. We do it our way."
"Of course, of course!" Barry waved his hand dismissively. "Unscripted! Raw! Organic! Just sign here."
He produced a tablet. It wasn't a soul-binding contract. It was a standard Talent Release Form.
Elara signed.
"Action!" Barry screamed.
The Makeover
The transformation of the Meow & Bow was instantaneous and violent.
Barry snapped his fingers, and the Crew swarmed in. They weren't people. They were Media Golems—humanoid shapes made of black cables, camera lenses for heads, and microphone booms for arms.
"Lighting!" a Camera-Head shouted, blinding Aldren with a reflector dish.
"Sound!" a Boom-Arm yelled, shoving a fuzzy microphone into Ignis's mouth.
"Makeup!" A swarm of powder puffs attacked Jen, aggressively contouring her cheekbones.
"Get off me!" Jen shouted, swatting them away. "I am the Manager! I do not need contouring! I need inventory!"
"We need to establish the 'Vibe'," Barry directed, standing on a chair. "Aldren, you're the 'Bad Boy'. Smolder at Camera 1. Li, you're the 'Quirky Sage'. Do something mystical but relatable. Ignis... try not to eat the equipment."
"It smells like copper," Ignis mumbled, the mic still in his mouth.
"Elara," Barry turned to her. "You're the 'Protagonist'. The glue. The Straight Man. I need you to look stressed but accessible."
"I am stressed!" Elara yelled. "Get that camera out of my face!"
"Perfect!" Barry cheered. "That's the conflict we need! Keep that energy!"
Suddenly, the floor rumbled.
"What was that?" Vex asked, pausing in the middle of applying lip gloss for the camera.
"That," Barry checked his watch, "is the Inciting Incident. Every pilot needs one."
"You said no scripted drama!" Elara accused.
"It's not scripted!" Barry promised. "I just... invited a guest."
The front door exploded.
Not opened. Exploded.
Splinters of mahogany flew everywhere. Standing in the wreckage was not a customer. It was a Kaiju.
But it was a Public Domain Kaiju. It looked like Godzilla, but legally distinct. It was green, had dorsal fins, but wore a giant sombrero to avoid trademark infringement.
"I AM ZILLA-SEÑOR!" the monster roared. "I AM HERE TO DESTROY THE SETTING!"
"A monster attack?" Aldren scoffed. "How pedestrian."
"Cut!" Barry yelled. "No, no, no! Aldren, sell the fear! The audience needs to feel the stakes! Scream!"
"I do not scream," Aldren sniffed. "I gasp elegantly."
"ZILLA-SEÑOR CRUSH!" The monster swept its tail, knocking over a table.
"My tables!" Jen shrieked. "That's coming out of your paycheck, Barry!"
"Rolling!" Barry shouted. "Capture the carnage! Elara, save the day! But make it look difficult!"
Elara grabbed her rolling pin (her Baguette was still broken). "I hate this show," she muttered.
She charged. "Hey! Taco-Zilla! Get out of my shop!"
"I have a name!" Zilla-Señor roared. He breathed fire—but because he was public domain, the fire effect was very low budget. It looked like orange streamers.
"The effects are terrible!" Li noted. "The immersion is ruined!"
"It's camp!" Barry yelled. "Lean into it! Li, do a flip!"
Li sighed. "I will do a flip. But only for the Funko Pop."
Li jumped. He bounced off the wall, spinning in the air. He landed on Zilla-Señor's head.
"Iron Palm of the Streamer!" Li shouted. "Smash that Like Button!"
He chopped the monster's head.
BONK.
A cartoon sound effect played from the air.
"Ow!" Zilla-Señor rubbed his head. "That was unnecessary!"
"Ignis! Flank him!" Elara ordered.
Ignis (in human form) charged. "I will bite his ankles!"
"No!" Barry interrupted. "Ignis, transform! The audience wants the Dragon! The CGI budget is approved!"
"I can't!" Ignis yelled. "I'm full of turkey! I'll get a cramp!"
"Do it for the ratings!" Barry pointed at a monitor showing a live graph. A red line labeled VIEWERSHIP was flatlining.
Ignis groaned. He focused.
POOF.
He transformed. But because he was tired and full of turkey, he didn't turn into a majestic Golden Dragon. He turned into a Chunky Dragon. He was round, wheezing, and his wings looked undersized.
"I am... aerodynamic," Ignis wheezed, flapping uselessly and knocking over the espresso machine.
"It's comedy gold!" Barry cheered. "The Fat Dragon arc! The internet will meme this instantly!"
"I am not fat!" Ignis roared. "I am cultivating mass!"
He fell on Zilla-Señor.
CRUNCH.
The kaiju was flattened under the weight of a chubby golden dragon.
"I yield!" Zilla-Señor wheezed. "My sombrero... it is crushed..."
"Cut!" Barry yelled. "That's a wrap on the fight scene! Great energy, everyone! Ignis, love the body positivity angle."
The Camera-Heads lowered their lenses. The boom mics retreated.
Ignis turned back into a human, panting. "I need... a nap. And a protein shake."
Elara stood amidst the wreckage of her cafe. The door was gone. A table was smashed. There were orange streamers everywhere.
"You destroyed my shop," Elara said, turning to Barry.
"We created television," Barry corrected. He showed them the monitor.
[VIEWERSHIP: 2 MILLION AND RISING.][TRENDING: #ChunkyDragon #VampireSass]
"Look at those numbers!" Barry beamed. "We're a hit! The network has already greenlit a full season!"
"A full season?" Aldren asked, checking his reflection in a camera lens. "Did... did the audience like my hat?"
"They loved the hat," Barry lied. "Now, here's the schedule. Tomorrow: The Beach Episode."
"We're in space," Elara pointed out. "There is no beach."
"We'll build one!" Barry said. "We're terraforming the roof! Bikinis! Volleyball! Romantic tension!"
He pointed at Elara and Aldren.
"You two. The 'Will-They-Won't-They' dynamic. Ramping it up."
"We won't," Elara said flatly.
"We might," Aldren said, winking at the camera.
"Aldren!"
"It is for the ratings, Elara! We must feed the algorithm!"
Barry clapped his hands. "Rest up, stars! Tomorrow, we shoot at dawn! Or whenever the lighting is best!"
He walked out, followed by his swarm of Media Golems.
The team stood in the silent, ruined cafe.
"I feel dirty," Li Wusheng said, scrubbing his face.
"We have money," Jen said, checking the account. "The signing bonus just hit. We can fix the door. And buy real coffee."
"But at what cost?" Elara asked. She looked at the camera that was still mounted in the corner, its red light blinking.
[REC]
"We're not pirates anymore," Elara whispered. "We're cast members."
"Same thing," Vex said, checking her phone. "Oh, look! Someone already made fan art of Ignis as a chunky dragon. It's... surprisingly cute."
Ignis grumbled, eating a stray orange streamer. "It has no nutritional value."
Elara looked at the blinking red light. She picked up a napkin. She threw it over the lens.
"End of episode," Elara said.