08.31.2007
Vancouver 1992
The place: Vancouver.
The time: the summer of 1992.
The man: Matt Evans.
The mission: Establish myself as the greatest talent to come out of Seattle since Dynasty star Linda Evans (no relation).
You might ask, "Why Vancouver?" - but you'd be wrong to ask that. The right question would be "Why not Vancouver?" or maybe "Would the people of Vancouver be able to handle the explosive intensity of a young Matt Evans?". Well if you did ask the right questions, then be assured that the answers are "Exactly!" and "Hell no!"
But slow down! You're getting ahead of yourself. Let's start at the beginning. Vancouver in 1992 was really a place in a time. And the wide-eyed 17-year old writer/director/actor pulling up to 1150 Station Street in an overcrowded Greyhound bus didn't know half of what he was getting himself into. The young man is Matt Evans. He cuts a striking first impression, his wide-eyedness surpassed only by his incredible (yet not fully-matured) good looks.
As the bus pulls to a halt it takes me a moment to shake myself out of the stunned state my first glimpse of Vancouver has given me. (I've changed from third person to first person - I hope you're keeping up with me). From the outskirts of the city, then through Surrey and Richmond, I'd seen no fewer than 18 film crews shooting everything from high-speed chase scenes to period drama. Spot fact for you: In the early 1990's more celluloid was consumed in Vancouver, by weight, than food and water combined.
I step off the bus, grab my small bag, and try to take in my surroundings. After a dazed moment I recall that a friend is supposed to be meeting me. I see no one I recognize. A Canadian, presumable responding to my bewildered look and magnetic personality, introduces himself.
Hey there friend. Need any help?
What?... Oh, no thanks. I'm just waiting for a friend.
He smiles and pats me on the back,
This is Canada! You're surrounded by friends.
He stands smiling for a moment, then notices some music coming from inside the terminal building.
Oh hey! You hear this? If You Asked Me To, Celine Dion. Fantastic tune, really. You know it was actually Patti LaBelle who first sang it. But Walter Afanasieff (the producer) always felt that Celine could do a much richer version. She's got a range that LaBelle can't match. Just listen to Did You Give Enough Love and you've hear exactly what I mean.
Ok. I'll try not to miss that.
You know, I've heard Unison is gonna have an extra four bonus tracks on the Australian release. Do you believe that?
I... didn't know that.
Well, it's understandable given how much recording Celine has been doing the past 3 months, but they sure as heck better release it over here sooner or later!
I look at the guy for a second.
It sounds like you really love Celine Dion.
There's a pause. A long pause. He looks at me cock-eyed before replying,
What do you mean?
Before I can say anything else I hear a familiar voice calling my name. I turn to see the one and only Missile-Propelled Grenade.
Mark-Paul!We come together in a manly embrace. I'm the next to speak:
Matty!
How you doing man?
Great Matty, great. Listen, let's double-time it back to the A.S. and then we can catch up.
He motions me towards his car, parked just across the street, next to a camera crew setting up. I wave goodbye to the Canadian without another word (Mark-Paul seems to be in a hurry).
See you again friend, enjoy Vancouver!
Faster than you can say Saved by the Bell I'm sitting beside Mark-Paul Gosselaar heading North on West Georgia Street.
What's the hurry MP? Are you shooting today?
Mark-Paul was in Vancouver shooting the exteriors for Saved by the Bell: Hawaiian Style.
I finished my scenes already. I just wanna get back to the A.S. before it gets too late.
He flicks a glance up at the rear-view mirror, checking for something.
A.S.?
S***, I keep forgetting this is your first time in Vancouver.
He laughs a little, seems a bit more relaxed.
A.S. stands for American Sector. Stanley Park (where we're shooting), as well as everything west of Granville Street and north of the airport. We have a sliver of North Vancouver but the French are disputing that.
Goddamn French! They don't care about anyone but themselves. It's like they don't have a word for etiquette.
You can say that again.
So what is this sector talk anyway?
Mark-Paul inhales, like he's about to start a long story.
Well, it's a long story..
I was right.
A couple of years ago, the Canadian entertainment industry seemed to be in good state. They had shows running for years and they were exporting them all over the world. Then things took a turn. Analysts put it down to the cancellation of The Littlest Hobo in 1985. It turned out that that one show was the backbone of the entire Canadian TV empire. Foreign networks lost confidence in Canadian output. Nothing with even a whiff of a maple leaf would sell.
The car comes to a stop at some sort of checkpoint. A man walks forward with a clipboard and takes a look at Mark-Paul, who hands him some papers. He steps away for a moment. Mark-Paul turns to me,
Internally things were worse. TVA and TQS saw it as an opportunity to take over, and finally achieve their dream of French language dominance over Canadian media. CBC, CTV and Global couldn't get past their minor differences to overcome the French threat and restore stability. There was a four-way struggle for power. The true victims in all of this were the Canadian people.
Outside the car we hear the Saved by the Bell theme tune coming from a small cabin near the roadside. A moment later, it stops and the man reemerges.
Everything checks out Mr. Gosselaar. Welcome home.
We continue driving.
For 3 years Canadian television saw failure after failure. Canadians lost faith and began... turning off their televisions. Then there was a glimpse of hope. In 1988 CTV aired a new home-made adventure show called Katts and Dog. You may know it as Rin Tin Tin K-9 Cop. The stage was set for a return to the good old days of Canadian TV. Once more people had a dog-based family entertainment show that they could believe in.
What happened?
TVA/TQS happened. They infiltrated the Katts and Dog writing staff and set about destroying the show from the inside. They went as far as to introduce a character with a French accent.
That's...
I know Matt. I know... With the added confusion this led to, audiences couldn't concentrate on the interplay between Hank Katts and his dog. The show went on, but in effect, Canadian television was dead.
We drive in silence into Stanley Park. Mark-Paul, stoic titan that he is, has the heart to go on:
In the end, the Canadian government had to step in. They opened their cities to the studios of the world, inviting them to film here and flood the Canadian airwaves with foreign-made programming. If they couldn't stop TVA/TQS and the others from in-fighting, they've just drown them out until there wasn't so much as a Canadian-made sitcom on the air.
It's unbelievable.
So unbelievable that it couldn't be anything but true... For the first few years it was chaos. You look at any show shot in Canada in '89 or '90 and you're certain to see at least 3 other crews working in the background. It was a logistical nightmare. There were so many cables running around the shooting locations that hundreds of cats and dogs were being electrocuted everyday. As Canadian pets were being decimated any hope of rebuilding their own TV industry was going up in smoke. Once more the government made a stand. They carved up every city in Canada into zones. The Americans can shoot in one, the French another. The British have theirs, and last but definitely not least, the Russians. Vancouver is unique in that as well as the 4 national sectors, there's an international zone - anyone can shoot in it so long as they get permission from the 3 other nations... which is easier said than done.
Wait a second... Russians have TV?
You bet. They even have their own version of Saved by the Bell, about 6 lesbians in lap-dancing academy.... Here we are.
I look out to see we've arrived at the Hawaiian Style set. A beach in Stanley park, looking out over the calm waters of Burrard Inlet, made to look just like a tourist paradise on O'ahu or Maui. Mark-Paul turns to me as he opens his door,
Maybe you can meet Engel.
Engel, of course, was Peter Engel. A man who needs no introduction except to say that he produced Saved by the Bell, Saved by the Bell: The College Years and Saved by the Bell: The New Class. His other work includes California Dreams and Hang Time (affectionately known to many as Saved by the Bell with a band and Saved by the Bell with basketball).
A lesser-known fact about Peter Engel is that from 1983 to 1994 he was the world's most artificially-augmented man, and (so the story goes) was the inspiration for Robocop.
It turns out we're in luck. Shooting has stopped to give Mario Lopez a chance to re-oil his body. We have a good 20 minutes before they be ready to start up again. Engel is talking to a nervous-looking man when Mark-Paul calls to him.
Peter! Here's the guy I was telling you about - Matt Evans.
Engel nods a greeting and finishes his discussion. The guy he was talking to looks anxiously from side to side and then scurries off. Engel joins us.
Matt Evans. I've heard you're a real up and coming talent.
I take his hand to shake. His grip gets firmer as I hear the sound of the microservos in his hand adjusting to the new position.
Well, I wouldn't put it quite like that. I'm already up, and I've already come.
Uh... yeah. So what brings you to Vancouver?
I hear it's the place to be. A lot of opportunities for writers. There's a new TV show based on the Highlander movies starting up. I've mailed a couple scripts to Dave Abramowitz and I'm gonna meet him to see what he thinks.
Good luck with that.
Engel smiles. Mark-Paul, who has been watching the nervous man leaving the set, turns to Engel.
Hey Peter. Who's that guy you were talking to?
What?.. Oh right. His name's Chris Carter. He's developing a new TV show about two FBI agents who investigate paranormal activity. Something like Unsolved Mysteries but without Robert Stack.
The odds have gotta be stacked against that show,
I quip. Mark-Paul catches me with an inverted lo-five.
So Peter,
I begin,
What's this I hear about a new spin-off from SBTB? Sounds like-
Engel holds up his hand to interrupt me and jerks his head to one side. I look skeptically at Mark-Paul
He's getting a phone call..
I look around curiously as Engel starts talking to thin air, with a hand pressed firmly against his jaw. The call - however it was made - it short and sour. Engel is pissed.
Goddammit! Those morons down on Dunbar street just lost us all of yesterday's filming... I'm sorry about this Mark-Paul but we're gonna have to reshoot the shark scene.
Are you kidding me man? That freakin' shark almost bit off my leg! Get Diamond to do it!
I would but I haven't seen Dustin in two days.
I decide to back off a little while Engel and MPG talk shop. Rumor had it that when 21 Jump Street finished in '91 Richard Grieco went primitive and started a new life as a hermit in the small wooded area that was Stanley Park. I glanced into the darkness between the trees hoping to see a glimpse of reflected light from Grieco's trademarked slick black hair. Nothing.
A little while later Mark-Paul comes to find me drifting dangerously close to the tree line. He looks a little down.
Hey man, what happened?
Looks like I can't I hang with you today Matty. We have to reshoot a scene.
No problem. What's the scene?
Zack is trying to impress Kelly, so he goes surfing when there's a shark warning in effect. He falls off the board and has to wrestle a shark.
Sounds fantastic!
Fantastic? It's f***** crazy! I've already done it once and I almost got killed. I keep telling Engel that I should have a stunt double, but he just makes these weird replies about the New Class gestation tanks not being ready yet... Bottom line Matty: You'll have to entertain yourself for a couple hours.
Don't sweat it bro. I'll see you later. Word?
Word.
So Mark-Paul lends me his wheels and I make my way north over Lions Gate Bridge, into the French Sector. I guess a lot of my readers have never met a French person in real life. Let me lay it out to you straight in terms that'll make sense.
The average French man looks like a cross between Jean Reno and Gerard Depardieu. He's confident, ruthless and doesn't take no for an answer (like Reno in Rollerball), but he's also weird and unsettling (like Depardieu in 102 Dalmations). When talking to an American he's mysterious, as if he has something to hide, (like Reno in Godzilla). He's obnoxious at first, but slowly grows on you (like Depardieu in Green Card). He's cooler than an Englishman but less knowledgeable than an American (like Sean Bean, Jean Reno and Robert De Niro in Ronin). He's very powerful and can even throw giant menhirs at people (like Depardieu in Asterix and Obelix vs. Caesar).
The average French woman looks like a cross between Emmanuelle Beart and Audre Tautou. She's beautiful but deadly; she seems trustworthy but then she turns you over to Jon Voight on the train (like Beart in Mission Impossible). She's determined, unrelenting and she walks with a limp (like Tautou in A Very Long Engagement). And she can't throw menhirs unless Getafix has given her some of the potion (like Beart and Tautou in real life).
I was able to surmise most of this during the drive through the French Sector and into the foothills north of the city... where Highlander was filming.
At this point in time Adrian Paul had not yet graced our screens as the inimitable Duncan MacLeod. I walked right past him without a second thought. The man I was here to see was the head writer Dave Abramowitz. He was sitting in a fold-out chair casting an eye over the business of the set when I walked up and stood directly in front of him.
Abramowitz.
Yes?...
Matt Evans.
Matt... Evans...
I'd sent him a couple scripts in the mail. I didn't know exactly the direction they were going to take with the show, but I knew Highlander... and, I knew explosive action. He finally replies,
I don't know who you are.
I'm a little taken aback.
Dave. It's me! Matt Evans! I sent you some scripts for the show. I figured I should show my face before you start filming them.
You sent some scripts... Ah! It's coming back to me now... Mike?
Matt. You probably remember Night of a Hundred Beheadings best of all.
That's the one with the hundred-
beheadings, yeah.
Yeah.
He takes a deep breath.
Why don't you take a seat Matt?
I pull up the chair next to his.
I remember your script Matt. It had a lot of-
Beheadings?
Well, yes... but I was gonna say, energy.
Of course, that's what happens after a beheading - blue s*** comes out and zaps the Highlander!
Abramowitz cocks his head, and then eventually has to nod agreement.
Sure... Listen Matt, you're a young guy trying to get started. I was in your position once, so I'm gonna give you some advice.
My ears peak up like that creepy kid in Legend. I'm about to get some pointers from the creative genius behind no less than 3 episodes of V.
When you sit down to write, take a moment to think, who your audience is.
Guys who wanna see beheadings and then lightning coming out of the heads, and the other guys who are still sword fighting dodging the lightning so that they don't get stunned long enough to be beheaded and then another guy on a motorcycle impaling a dude with a-
I'm gonna stop you there Matt.
I look up from the illustrative hand motions I was making to get my vision across.
What about engaging characters? What about story?
I had a flashback in there.
You had a flashback during a fight scene to another fight scene!
It was back story! Those four guys had fought before!
It wasn't even consistent! Two of them died during the flashback!!
I was going for a kind of what-might-have-been thing, you know, if they hadn't rolled out of the way of the rhinoceros.
He's starting to get worked up. He takes another breath to calm himself.
That's another thing Matt. We have budgetary constraints to think about. There is no way we can have half the things in here. Every beheading we do costs a lot of money. We'd be pushing it to have more than one immortal death every two or three episodes.
A beat passes. I can't believe what I've just heard.
You mean... in some episodes... you wont have... any beheadings?
Yes. In some episodes we'll expand on MacLeod's character, showing his interactions with mortals.
Mortals who he... doesn't behead?
Yes.
Huh... So Night of a Hundred Beheadings is unlikely to be made.
Exactly right. Especially since one hundred seems to be a very conservative estimate... I seem to remember a scene with... a train? Why exactly were all those immortals lined up like that?
They were waiting for the train.
...right.
The rest of the conversation was short. Needless to say I was disappointed that Abramowitz's plan for Highlander involved more character-building and less two-dozen-immortals-trapped-on-a-submarine style episodes.
I said my farewell's and left the set in a sorry state. I hop into Mark-Paul's car and roll back through the French Sector. I decide to soak up the local flavor and stop at a small coffee shop Montroyal Boulevard. The place is quiet, a couple of other customers and one man working behind the counter. I order a coffee and sit down in front of the guy.
Ah!
The guy behind the counter speaks, almost to himself. He moves away a little and turns up the radio.
Michael's Song
He says, turning to me and smiling.
Celine recorded this for the soundtrack for The Peanut Butter Solution back in '86. She never put it on any of her own albums but I don't know why. Fantastic song.
Peanut Butter Solution... What is that, a Ludlum adaptation?
He doesn't reply... Then,
You know her first English single was also on that soundtrack, Listen to the Magic Man.
...People sure seem to talk about Celine Dion a lot around here.
Talk about Celine Dion a lot... I don't understand.
Just then I hear a phone being hung up and see a familiar man come from the hallway at the back of the coffee shop. It's Chris Carter - the guy from the Saved by the Bell set. He notices me.
Hey, you're American, right? Maybe you can help me out. We have to stick together right?
He seems very nervous.
I dunno man.
Come on. I just need a ride, ok?
I look up at the guy behind the counter. He turns away and busies himself with drying off a coffee cup. Carter goes on:
Come on man, I wouldn't ask usually but I gotta meet a guy in Burnaby in twenty minutes. I'll never make it on the bus in time.
Burnaby...
Listen kid, I saw you back at the set with Engel. You're looking for a job maybe? I'm your man. I gotta sweet show in the pipeline. It's called FBI Spooky Mystery Hour. The key concept is this: The viewer solves all the mysteries. Huh? Fantastic, right? We have this catchphrase, "Can the truth be found out there... by you?" Catchy right?
Uh...
We have these two FBI agents, who travel around the country encountering strange paranormal activity. Every week they have no idea how to solve the case. So Scooky (that's the guy), turns to the Mooky (that's the girl) and says, "We can't solve this, but maybe someone else can?" Then they-
Turn to the camera and say "Can the tru-"
"-th be found out there... by you?" Exactly! And then the viewers phone in or write letters or whatever and Mooky and Scooky read out there ideas the following week.
Mooky?
and Scooky, right. I wanna stay true to my original concept which was to create a show where all characters and places rhyme with spooky. It's never been done!
I take a sip from my coffee. Earlier today I'd been expecting to be hired to write for Highlander - which would without a doubt become the most popular sci-fi thriller TV show of the decade - and now the best I could hope for was driving around the crackpot creator of The Adventures of Mooky and Scooky. Well, I guess you gotta roll with the punches.
Don't you think Mooky should be the guy?
He thinks for a moment...
That's fabulous! So... Will you drive me to Burnaby?
I agree. A couple minutes later I'm driving through the street of Vancouver listening to Carter's plans for his show.
You know, I've always thought that sexual tension between characters can really kill a show. So I decided from day one that we'd never go down that road with Mooky and Scooky. I figure in one of the first couple episodes Scooky gets into some accident.. wait, Mooky. Mooky, right partner? Mooky gets into an accident and has his junk cut off or mangled or something, so that we nip that stuff right in the bud. Mooky loses all interest in anything that isn't solving spooky mysteries.
I cringe a little at the wheel.
Can he really be expected to deliver the catchphrase at the end of the episode if he's had his... junk mangled?
Good point... Ok. So first he says the line and then his junk gets mangled, and then Scooky looks up and says "Come on gang! We really need your help this time!"
Uh... Where exactly is Burnaby anyway?
Oh.. Other side of Boundary Road. Straight through the International Zone.
Had I paid closer attention to Mark-Paul's description of the city I might have known that I'd just been directed into the Russian Sector. Unfortunately I hadn't and I didn't. Fifteen minutes later I find myself standing in a strange looking cemetery next to Chris Carter... waiting for someone.
What is this place Chris?
It's the Masonic cemetery for British Columbia. Freemasons get buried here.
I nod and shuffle from one foot to another. Another minute passes.
What are we doing in the Masonic cemetery for British Columbia Chris?
Waiting for a Russian TV producer called Grisha Grosha.
I wait another minute before asking more.
Why are we waiting for Grisha Grosha?
He thinks I stole the idea for FBI Spooky Mystery Hour from him.
Just then a black limousine comes screeching from behind a large crypt, careens through several headstones and breaks violently beside us. I can't see in through the tinted windows. A back door swings open, a heavy cloud of cigar smoke poofs outward and we are assaulted by pumping euro techno.
Get in.
A shadowy figure raises his voice over the music. I'm about to suggest to Chris that he continues on without me when a hand reaches out of the car and pulls me inside. Next thing I know I'm sitting next to a big guy zipping a strip of black plastic around my wrists, then my ankles - Chris gets pulled in to meet the same treatment. When I look up I see Grisha Grosha. Sitting opposite us, the source of the cigar smoke, with a... komodo dragon draped heavily over his lap.
Christopher. Long time no see.
He strokes the dragon slowly, his eyes intently on Chris. I decide to cut in before this goes any further.
Excuse me, Grisha I don't rea-
Nobody calls me Grisha!
He reaches forward to slap me across the face but he can't lift himself far enough under the weight of the dragon. The man beside me lifts a hand and slaps me quickly. Chris speaks,
Sorry about that Grigory. This is Matt Evans, my partner.
I flick my head towards Chris, open my mouth to speak and then reconsider.
Who's your new friend?
Chris asks awkwardly, nodding towards the huge dragon.
This? This is my komodo dragon. Imported from Indonesia. A very dangerous creature - a man-eater. This one is kept docile only through a carefully administered combination of horse tranquilizer and cough syrup. Highly illegal to keep one of course but rules Mr. Carter, much like the legs of those who cross me, were made to be broken.
Ha ha. That's great Grigory. Listen, I'm very glad to see you so we can clear up this misunderstanding. Of course we'd both like to get back to work, me with FBI Spooky Mystery Hour and you with... your own projects.
FBI Spooky Mystery Hour? This is the title you've come up with for my show?
Your show? Come on Grigory.
I decide to try and work the Evans magic:
Listen, Grish-
Before I finish the word Grosha reaches up into a compartment in the ceiling and pulls out a harpoon gun. He points it squarely at my chest.
I said no one calls me Grisha.
He motions the harpoon gun a little and glances at it, then back to me.
Strange that I have a harpoon gun in my limousine? Well, let's just say I find it usually gets my... point across.
Even though my life was in serious danger I couldn't help but think that Grisha Grosha was the coolest guy I'd ever met! Get's his point across?... Genius!
Needless to say the rest of the drive was pretty tense. Turns out Grisha had an idea for a TV show around the same time Carter first came on the scene with Mooky and Scooky. His version was about a pair of Moscow prostitutes who were forced by their pimp to investigate paranormal activity around the city.
Pretty soon we arrive at our destination - A warehouse deep in the Russian Sector. Grisha's muscle picks us up, one at time, and shoves us through the door. I stumble forward onto the floor.
I wont be needing you anymore Vlad.
Grisha follows us into the warehouse, alone. The door slams shut behind him. I look up and soak in the simple concrete room. Boxes here and there, a chair sitting in the middle of the room, and on the left side of the room a figure lying crumpled up on the ground. A familiar figure.
Dustin Diamond.
Grisha calls from behind me. Across the room Dustin races his bruised face a little.
Dustin has a certain capacity for being in the wrong place at the wrong time... Christopher. Take a seat... SIT DOWN!
Chris shuffles over to the chair and sits down. Grisha picks me up roughly and pushes me across the room, throwing me to the floor again next to Dustin.
Word up Dustin?
W--w-ord.
He manages.
Grisha walks out of sight and returns with some rope. Chris looks very nervous.
Listen Grigory, let's not do anything rash ok? How about a co-producer credit on Mystery Hour? Come on! How much sweeter of an offer can I make?... S*** Grisha what are you gonna do? You're not gonna mangle my junk are you?
What is with him and junk mangling? Before Chris can say anything else Grisha stuffs a rag in his mouth and gets to work tying him to the chair. I feel a nudge in my ribs. It's Dustin. He motions down with his eyes - something... his shoe? Slowly, I reach down and press my fingers lightly on the sole of his shoe. Dustin couldn't reach himself with his hands tied the way they were. There it is! I find something. A button. I press it and lay back just before Grisha throws a glance to check on us. Dustin nods.
Do you like music Christopher? Eh? What kind of music do you like?
Grisha picks up a radio and turns it on. He scans through the stations until he finds what he's looking for. He pulls a flick knife from his pocket and starts to walk around Chris, struggling uncomfortably in the chair. Grisha starts to shuffle in rhythm with the music, then slides into a smooth dance, still stepping around Chris. Suddenly he starts to sing along with the radio.
Look into my eyes.... you will see,
What you mean toooo me.
Search your heart... search your soul,
And when you find me there you'll seeearch no more.
The whole time Chris is struggling against the ropes. His muffled voice getting louder and louder.
Don't tell me, it's not worth trying for.
Chris is moving so much now the chair is starting to rock. Grisha takes a break from his soulful dance to steady the chair and swish the blade through Chris' field of vision.
You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for
You know it's true...
Just as Bryan Adams is about to complete the chorus, Grisha swoops in and goes for Chris' right ear. I look away but can tell from Chris' screams that he's going to work on him.
Just then the door gets kicked in. I can't make out who the silhouette is in the uneven light. Then the voice:
Step away from him Grisha!
It's Peter Engel! Responding rapidly to the distress beacon in Dustin Diamond's shoe, standard issue for all Saved by the Bell cast members. Engel runs into the room. He moves fast, like a cougar, each bound covering a distance an Olympic long jumper would be envious of. When he's a single bound away from Grisha, the Russian pulls a gun and fires without a nanosecond's hesitation.
Engel takes the shot directly in the face, but his momentum carries him forward, past Grisha, past Chris Carter, and into some boxes on the far side of the room. Grisha smirks.
I guess the bell didn't ring soon enough this time.
I struggle to stifle a laugh at such a quick-witted pun - I mean, he didn't even know Engel was coming three seconds ago. He shoots him in the face and serves him with a weapon's grade villain line in the time it would take most people to work out what was going on. For Diamond's sake I try to make my smothered laughter seem like tears of grief.
Little did I know Grisha should have been the one in tears. A moment later Engel stands up amid the piles of boxes. He neck is bent at a weird angle which he quickly corrects. There's no sign he's been shot in the face except for the large black flash mark on his forehead. It seems the bullet ricochetted right off his skull!
Better luck next time Grisha!
Engel lunges forward and after a brief struggle Grisha has been knocked out cold. Engel picks up Chris, chair and all, and then comes over to us to free our hands and feet.
Come on,
Engel says,
We gotta get out of here before more of Grisha's men show up.
We make our way outside. Vlad is in a heap on the ground. But something's amiss. I look around quickly.
Where's your car Peter?
I didn't bring one. I ran.
Repositioning Chris over his shoulder he starts to jog, and then takes it up to a sprint. Dustin and I are struggling to keep up behind him. Dustin gets his bearings and realizes that we're on Hasting's street. Over ten blocks from Boundary Road and the safety of the International Zone. I hear a gunshot from behind us, and look over my shoulder to see Grisha leaning heavily on the door of the warehouse. Dustin covers his head and runs in a crouched position. But no more shots come.
I glance back again to see what's happening and suddenly feel able to run a hell of a lot faster. Grisha has gotten to the car and released the komodo dragon. Somehow he's managed to wake the thing up, and it's moving fast - much faster than us.
Run Dustin! Run!
He's still cowering from the gunshot, and the dragon is gaining on him fast. I try to pull him forward but he's like a dead weight.
Matt!! Help me Matt!
Goddammit! His voice is so annoying!
Keep running! Save your breath!
The dragon is now only a few feet behind Dustin. I reach back for him - our fingers touch for the briefest of glances - before the dragon pounces and Dustin goes down. Did I stop? No... It's something I've had to live with to this day. Dustin went down and felt the heart-stopping sensation of the dragon's gingival grip on his neck.
It turns out however, that there is a subtle difference between man-eaters and man-killers. That's to say that Dustin was eaten by the dragon, partially at least, but (as you're well aware) he has lived to talk about... although he never talks about it.
The rest of us kept the pace and made it back to Boundary Road, singing the Saved by the Bell theme tune as loud as we could, for the benefit of the sentries at the checkpoint. They let us through just before Grisha and his men caught up with us. Unfortunately for Grisha, Saved by the Bell makes a far more recognized passport than his then-current project The Brothers Karamazov. It took him ten minutes to explain to the sentries that his adaptation stayed true to Dostoevsky's book while also being Russia's first period drama to feature an all-nude female cast. By this time Engel, Chris and I were long gone.
When we finally had the chance to rest Engel set Chris' chair down and set about untying him, careful not to do any further damage to the right side of his head. I turn to Engel.
Thanks man. That was some rescue.
No problem Matt.
Chris finally has the freedom to speak again:
Are you kidding me? My ear is still sitting somewhere back in the Russian Sector, not to mention Screech being eaten by a komodo dragon! We're lucky you didn't get us all killed!
Engel looks at Chris, then to me.
Well,
he says,
I'm only human.
We all laugh.
Special Features
Vancouver 1992 on Google Maps: A map showing how Vancouver was divided into sectors in the early 90's.
Behind the Scenes on the X Files: Chris Carter's missing right ear served as a constant distraction for David Duchovny on set.
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Reservoir Dogs: The observant among you might note that part of this anecdote is quite similar to a certain scene in Reservoir Dogs. Coincidence? Don't bet on it - Moleman was actually in Vancouver when all of this was going down.
Hold it Matt!
You might say,
Moleman finished filming Reservoir dogs in '91. It was already being screened in January of '92. Months before your gripping adventure took place!
True. But that was the original cut of the film that they screened. Moleman's original idea for the end of the movie was that Cheech Marin busts into the warehouse and kills everyone. He picked up our story from Chris Carter and reshot it. Of course Cheech was pretty pissed with Moleman about this. It wasn't until 4 years later that they patched things up and brought From Dusk til Dawn to a relieved public.
Night of a Hundred Beheadings: The only surviving page of the infamous unfilmed Highlander episode.