Plisko rings Matt Taylor! A fictional short story.

 

The air crackled with tension in the dingy smack den in Devon. Plisko gripped the phone, its plastic slick with nervous sweat. On the other side, the dial tone pulsed, a relentless metronome marking the passage of his fear.

The screen displayed a simple name: Matt Taylor. Not the rockstar, not the astronaut, but the man who haunted his memories and his YouTube feed. Accusations, allegations, pixelated faces blurring over accusations – the online mob had painted him a monster.

Plisko wasn't sure what he believed. The grainy videos, the edited narratives, they left a sickening fog in his mind. But one thing remained irrefutable – he knew the truth. He held a piece of his past, a shared history, a connection he couldn't sever until he understood.

Taking a deep breath, he pressed call. The rings echoed in the empty room, each one a tiny hammer blow against his resolve. Finally, a gruff voice answered, laced with suspicion.

"Hello?"

"Matt Taylor? It's Plisko… Uncle Plisko." His voice came out a shaky whisper.

Silence stretched, thick and heavy. Then, a sigh – weary, world-worn. "Yes, what do you want?"

"It's… about the videos," he blurted out, the words tumbling over each other. "I need you to stop."

Another sigh, this time laced with resignation. "Stop! Why should I stop?"

"Because," he pleaded, his voice firming. "The truth is destroying me."

For a long moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the phone line. Then, a quiet, "Alright, then. You can tell your nephew to come on my panel on Monday night. We'll talk."

The line went dead. Plisko stared at the phone, heart pounding. It wasn't an apology, not a vindication. But it was a chance, a slender thread leading out of the labyrinth of doubt.

Whether Matt Taylor was a predator or not, whether the accusations were true or a twisted narrative, at least one thing was certain. He existed beyond the pixelated accusations, the distorted voices. He was a man with a name, a voice, and a story. And in the murky waters of online accusations, that, in itself, held a sliver of truth waiting to be unearthed.