The final scene would be filmed on a studio set on the WG Productions lot in a certain room all the members of the cast were all too familiar with; Detective Blake’s private office room.

With all big finales, the big wigs roll out to assume the prize of adoration from their cohorts, who in themselves come to receive the same priceless attention from the other.

The biggest wig of all, however, was the company president; Warren Gershwin, the namesake for the company. There he stood alongside some of his board. That is, until he took notice of the true stars on set; the actors.

“Ah, Gwendlyn! How’s life been treating you, my dear? And where’s Gerald, and his bosom buddy, Hahaha..! Ahh, those rascals…” The heavy, robust man said jovially to the lead actress and love interest of the series while puffing his smoke.

“Oh, sir, I’m well…but if I may, why is it that whenever you ask of me, It’s instead for someone else?” The slender, long haired blonde had the kind of smile that felt old, stale; like it had been waiting for you to arrive so it could roll over in its grave to be seen upright. That's about all one feels they need to know about her before, well…; brilliant actor though.

“Ah yes…because..y’know…,oh- I’ll look for them myself…!” The president said in forfeit as he walked off to speak to another of the actors, trying his best not to make eye contact with the still grinning woman.

“Harold Edgars! I’ve been meaning to talk with you there…, come on, come-on now, and you too Bo, the stars of the episode!” Gershwin began to cough after exercising his jaw in more ways than one, and perhaps one too many.

Harold Edgars played rival detective Schezwald for the New Bedlam Defense Police Force, which was commonly shortened to NBDF. He was a rival not only in picking up and putting to bed cases, but also for capturing the heart of Roxanne Considine, the lead love interest and daughter of the Constable.

This of course, was no competition; either in the series proper, or in reverse, life outside of the small screen. As for Gwendlyn, Edgars loved her madly; and everyone was quite convinced, too, that she loved the fact that the young man loved her madly.

“How are you, Mr. Gershwin; Good to see you!” He lied. Of course, that too was for her sake.

Bo Eidelman was the star actor of the episode, and had been on but one episode previous of Conundrum in the first season.

“Good afternoon, sir, Good to be back!” Eidelman responded.

“Do you boys know where Powers ran off to, I really want to speak with him about this script…truly peculiar, don't you think?” Taking a break from his pipe, he took rest of his arm around Eidelman, and let out his objections. That alongside alcoholic fumes, which emanated from his voice the louder he projected it.

“All this time, all these years, we’ve twisted the order of things…, the present starts in the future, the future in the past, all that psyche nonsense I don’t get…Now. Now, they want to tell it straight?!” Pulling back from Eidelman just to express his bemusement, he sighed. “Why can’t time just stand still for once in the guy's life; really it's got me spinning…”.

“I do think it’s quite the bleak story too, boss; Blake following the life of the man he apprehended for a whole decade, just see if he who pleads innocent can at least enjoy the grace of God on planet Earth; Lloyd himself…, Aww I just know he put Shirada up to this script.” Harold complained alongside the boss.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

It was clear that he enjoyed Bartell’s company.

“H-hey hey, I think it ties in really well with the pathological character Blake is, and with what the audience wants to see…They’re always wondering if the people actually did it aren't they?” Brown nose Eidelman had no complaints, this may have very well lit a match under his career, after all. It had been a long while since he had such attention on his name. In fact, it was really since the previous Conundrum feature.

The episode,‘Counterpoint’, was quite interesting. Detective Blake, for the first time, asks the perpetrator the burning question that permeates the whole show; not how, but why. The deduction details how the killer murdered a man whom he believed betrayed his trust and ruined his marriage. Instead of going back into the young man’s past to find out the answer, we instead enter Blake’s past as a cadet for the NBDF. There also was Roxanne's first appearance.

Schezwald, who was like a brother to Blake, gets caught in a love triangle as they rise in the ranks of the force. Schezwald uses his charm to worm his way into Gwendlyns’ heart. Yet, in Shakespearean fashion, the principled yet conflicted Blake betrays poor and beggarly Schezwald by reporting on his petty theft from the organization.

Constable Considine, a man of Loyalty; and not principle, humbles Blake and lowers his rank. This begins Blake's burning anger for Schezwald and the Constable, and he drinks himself into destitute lows. Blake is eventually discharged from duty.

On the night the man is going to leave town, Schezwald confronts Blake, asking why he did it.

“Just look at yourself…,” Blake responded harshly. “All you do is take-, take-, take- from me, that's all you ever do. All I’ve ever earned, and not once have you ever thanked me, my family…, you’re a low man, and this city, as low as you; and they can keep you..., all I hope you don’t ruin her…” Blake said, instigating a fight.

After a struggle at the piercing edge of the dock, Blake pushes Schezwald into the water. Looking satisfied, then quite bothered, he just ruminates there, with each breath being drawn more heavily than the last.

The story then cuts to Blake receiving Bo's case; A man who had accidently slain his own younger brother. Blake stands silently as the sounds of washing waves play in the background. As if his thoughts are heard from the flashback the scene before, we hear those famous words “Oh…what a conundrum.”

“...Yeah, you are right, Edgars, I ought to find all three of them right now…” Gershwin said, overlooking Eidelman's response.

Eidelman, being rightfully ignored for not giving a more honest opinion; even if something like “I couldn’t care less,” or, “the Flintstones is more my speed,” decided to walk away from the conversation.

Not long after, those three men in fact entered the room, and it did not take long for Gershwin to find them and give them a piece of his mind.

“Oh-hey! There they are now…a couple of lousy…” Gershwin coughed up under his breath before gesturing towards the group.” Powers, hey, all of ya, Come-on, come along now…” Looking at each other knowingly, Lloyd, Powers, and lastly Shirada; the head story editor in the writers room.

“What's this about, Warbucks?” Powers responded slyly.

“Oh…, you know what it's about; it’s this script. Have you all heard of a proper happy ending? It’s common decency…!” Gershwin stood his nose up, snubbing them in protest.

“Shirada, whose idea was this, you?” Gershwin quickly turned to Shirada, who shrank back timidly.

“I’ so, so sorry sir. Please, we can’t change anything now. Even now we are behind…” The man responded.

“Now, Warren; You signed off on all production for the final episode months ago, why now; why this?” Lloyd said tiredly, rubbing the two brain cells he had left together through his brow.

“It’s just…, I think it could anger people…and well,” Before Gershwin could finish, a single tear cascaded along his reddish face.

“Aww, I'm gonna miss having you all on the lot…, Come here you sickos!” To which the man quickly drew close to the three, hugging them and patting them on the back while still crying sweet tears of joy.

“You...you all make me so happy…, you make me so much money! Hahahaha!” For Gershwin, there was no blurred line between love and profit.

Edgars, unhugged and unloved, despite being an important factor in the success of the series, watched perturbed while the men quickly got their way.

With that, all quarrelling and hijinks had come to a close. The final show was to begin.

Despite all the difficult conversations, all the anxiety over his final performance, Lloyd Bartell had convinced himself he was at peace with it all.

The consequences of that afternoon were not set in stone; they were simply in limbo, waiting. Waiting for the time when he could break the chains and release the shackles he had locked himself in. Soon he was going to return to a more regular fantastical life. Something manageable. Something real.

At least, that was his hope. In this world, time waits for no man…

But it just may stop.