"…but this the failure this evening of Mister Murder has definitely shaken up the rankings."
"That's right, Alex. With Mister Murder fumbling the bank robbery interruption at First National and allowing the robbers to escape, I think it's fair to say he's dropped in rank."
"Absolutely, Johnny, Mister Murder has slipped out of his longstanding number three ranking, opening the door to they young Hypnotist. And reports have it that the Hypnotist is currently ensconced at Police HQ, helping the officers crack the kidnapping of Mary Ellen Palmer."
"And if he leads to her freedom, Alex?"
"I don't think there's any question that he'll leapfrog Mister Murder and maybe even the Lawman. The Mary Ellen Palmer case has been quite the unsolvable thorn, Johnny, and if the Hypnotist is able to crack that nut, there's no telling how high he can climb in the rankings."
"That's a mixed metaphor, Alex, but I think you and I are on the same page. Now, let's go to an ad from our sponsor."
SPR Network's logo filled the screen, accompanied by Doctor Lifehouse's theme song. An advertisement for Lifehouse Dish Detergent followed before the television set was muted.
"Did you hear that, Matt? That man on the television said Elliot is doing good!"
"I saw, Ma," her son, 26 year old Matt Nathans said with a sigh. "What, number three?"
"The ticker had him at four, but I think that Alex Mackey man said he could be at number three by tomorrow." There was a crunch of potato chips. "He looks so good in that new costume of his!"
Matt was brushing his teeth in the small bathroom adjacent to his mother's TV room. He stopped, lowering his brush. "Elliot's at the police station now?"
"That's what they say. At HQ. That's my boy..."
Matt hadn't seen his older brother in two weeks. Elliot could be in Burundi for all Matt or his mother knew.
Matt spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink before wiping his mouth and looking into the mirror. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot. Six days sober will do that. But hell, six was better than five.
"I gotta go to work, Ma. I may be late."
"Get moving then. You need that job, Matt. Your brother can't provide everything–"
"I know, I'm going."
On his way past the veritable shrine of Hypnotist photographs and memorabilia, Matt clipped a SUPERMART name tag onto his shirt.
"Back in the morning, Ma," he called, giving one last glance at the images of his brother in his Hypnotist costume. "Love you."
