Deep in the woods, constantly scanning the terrain, ROB PEREZ runs a trail - over dirt, rocks, leaves, puddles, and roots. After a moment, THE GINGERBREAD MAN, brown, about six inches tall, with raisins for eyes, a cherry nose, and icing for a mouth, effortlessly runs alongside Rob, silent, unnoticed. Finally, The Gingerbread Man speaks.
GINGERBREAD MAN: Are you Rob?
ROB PEREZ: (jumps off the trail) Jimminy Crickets?!
Rob clambers back to trail and catches up with The Gingerbread Man.
RP: You don’t make noise? You’re like a ninja?
GM: Sorry about that.
RP: Yeah, I’m Rob. You are obviously The Gingerbread Man.
GM: Ever done an interview on the run?
RP: First time. Do you mind if I record this? I can’t really take notes.
GM: Go right ahead.
Still running, Rob presses record on his Apple Watch.
RP: So Mister Gingerbread Man…
GM: Please. Mister Gingerbread Man was my father. Call me GM.
RP: Okay, GM…tell me about yourself?
GM: Well, I’m a man. Made of gingerbread. Some think me seasonal.
RP: I like gingerbread all year-round. Are those raisin eyes?
GM: Yes. I’m made of the usual, flour, molasses, cinnamon, nutmeg--
RP: --Ginger.
GM: Ginger, of course. But also a bit of magic. Magic kind of kick-started things for me.
RP: Do you live in a gingerbread house?
GM: I have no home.
RP: Is there a Gingerbread Woman in the picture?
GM: There was an amazing Gingerbread Woman. We had some good times. But she didn’t like all my running around so…
RP: I’m sorry. And as I understand it, right from the word go, you were running.
GM: Yup. I ran right out of my pan because everyone wanted to gobble me up.
RP: I bet they did. Is that a cherry nose?
GM: It is. Luckily, I could outrun them all. I’m like a long-distance sprinter.
RP: (breathing hard) This is a pretty good clip here.
GM: This? No. This leisurely pace is just for you.
RP: I see. And on your journey, who exactly have you outrun?
GM: I outran the childless old woman who made me.
RP: Is it nice to outrun childless, old women?
GM: I outran a pig and a cow and a horse.
RP: How the heck did you outrun a horse?
GM: I run with purpose.
RP: I see. But what happened with the fox?
GM: Well, you’re thinking of my dad. And of his dad. And, well, I guess there’s a long line of Gingerbread Men that, frankly, were outfoxed by the fox.
RP: The fox is sly.
GM: The fox indeed knows many things but I can tell you the fox will not know me.
RP: Smart.
Rob breaks into a sprint, reaching for The Gingerbread Man.
RP: BUT CAN YOU OUTRUN ME?!
The Gingerbread Man laughs, effortlessly staying beyond Rob’s reach.
GM: RUN, RUN, RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN! YOU CAN’T CATCH ME! I’M THE GINGERBREAD MAN!
Rob slows to a brisk run again, laughing. The Gingerbread Man resumes running at Rob’s slower pace.
RP: Forgive me, GM. I had to hear it once.
GM: I love my catchphrase.
RP: It’s a good catchphrase but …
GM: But?!
RP: But it’s just trash talking. Why do you taunt others?
The Gingerbread Man runs silently for a moment, reflecting.
GM: I guess hurt people hurt people.
RP: True that.
GM: Maybe I’m not sure about what it means to be a man. I mean, yes, I’m dressed like a man.
RP: Well, I don’t know any man who wears a couple of buttons and some cuffs. Is that vanilla icing?
GM: Yes. But I’m not a man, am I? I’m just a… cookie.
RP: But why does a cookie… run?
GM: I run because everyone wants to gobble me up.
RP: Yes, but if we dig a little deeper… I mean, you’re still running right now. So who are you running from?
GM: I guess I’m, uh, I’m running from, well, from…
For the first time in his life, The Gingerbread Man stops running. Rob stops as well.
GM: Maybe I’m running from myself.
Rob nods, solemnly. A single, silent tear trickles down The Gingerbread Man’s face.
RP: Bring it in here, Little Cookie Man.
The Gingerbread Man embraces Rob. Rob holds the embrace tight.
GM: This was a mistake, wasn’t’ it?
RP: Everyone has a destiny, GM.
GM: Even cookies?
RP: Especially cookies.
Rob gobbles up The Gingerbread Man. He is delicious.
i should have said "for the real thing". that would have been sharp.
Bring it in, GM ... Bring it in for The Real Thing.
This one's my favorite, I think, Bobby.