Scribblers: Go Green!

So, I promised my sister I'd write this two days ago, but although I tried I couldn't think of a story until today. Also she specified that she wanted something funny, and I find humour hard to write. (whinge, whine, make excuses) Ultimately I came up with this and it was just going to be a quick little one-shot, but it's taking me longer to write than I thought, so I'm splitting it up. Also worth noting: the roster is the same but the hierarchy isn't. We all had a chat a while ago and decided our new jobs would be:

Finesse: Leader
Chronal: Tech Guy
Amity: Medic
Lyric: General Infantry. With a sword.
Shift: Tactician
Wraith: Person most likely to be eaten in a survival situation.

(Yeah, I'm not including the last one.)

Anyway: Tell us a story, Jackanory.

Scribblers: Going Green
Issue One

Scene the First: In Da Pit. The Scribblers are all chillin' out in their expansive and swanky living area, doing various activities. LYRIC is sparring with FINESSE, WRAITH is drawing amusing charicatures of everyone, SHIFT is hunting through the sofa cushions for a pack of cards and AMITY and CHRONAL are drawing up a list of rules for a new card game. I say AMITY and CHRONAL – AMITY is coming up with most of them while CHRONAL makes the list, because it's an Obsession.

AMITY
And I think there should be some brilliantly poetic rule about the picture cards in various situations! Like, if the king or queen gets put on top of a Tower of the same suit it counts as a look-out.

WRAITH
I'm never playing this game. It has more rules than I have fingers.

AMITY
But that's why we're writing them down!

CHRONAL
I'm making a List!

FINESSE
Yes, good boy.

CHRONAL
Yay!

AMITY
And it follows its own logic.

WRAITH
Logic is for squares.

CHRONAL
So's your face.

WRAITH pretends to cry. He is largely ignored. SHIFT suddenly straightens from her hunting in the sofa cushions, a pack of cards clutched triumphantly in one hand.

SHIFT
Success get! I have found the cards! Also: three pence in coins, a boiled sweet, two pens and Chronal's communicator.

FINESSE
All of Chronal's stuff, then.

CHRONAL
Excellent! I've been needing the pens.

FINESSE
Well yes. And, I imagine, the communicator.

LYRIC
Finesse, stop talking to them. I nearly broke your nose twice then.

FINESSE
But suavely.

SHIFT
Um... I'm not sure we can use these cards for this, actually.

CHRONAL
Really? Why not?

WRAITH
I bet they're Lyric's secret porn cards.

LYRIC
Why? Why is it always me at the receiving end of sex jokes?

FINESSE
Focus, Lyric. I nearly broke your wrist, then.

SHIFT
They aren't porn, they just have 'Amity won the poker' written across them all.

There's a brief pause as everyone looks at AMITY, who beams.

AMITY
I did win the poker! I'd forgotten! That was a great day.

CHRONAL
But... You wrote it across all of the cards?

FINESSE
And then forgot anyway?

SHIFT
Yeah, I can't help but see a wasted effort there. Also wasted cards.

Suddenly: darkness strikes! As in, there's a power cut and it's night, so there is abrupt darkness and an accompanying abrupt outpouring of noise. WRAITH, in the middle of his drawing, shouts out; CHRONAL, in the middle of his list, does the same; and there's a series of yelps as FINESSE and LYRIC, both in the middle of sparring, collide with each other and fall over in a tangled heap amid much swearing and threats of vengeance.

SHIFT
What on earth...?

AMITY
Er... Finesse? Lyric? Are you guys okay?

FINESSE
I'm not sure who's leg this is...

LYRIC
Is this - ?

FINESSE
No, that's me!

LYRIC
Er... sorry...

AMITY
Hang on.

She gets up to poke the lightbulb but promptly trips over WRAITH, who is trying to do the same thing. More crashes follow.

LYRIC
Ow! That's definitely not me!

FINESSE
Nor me...

WRAITH
Argh! It's me, you dystopia! Stop it!

SHIFT
He won't stop. This is exactly the excuse Lyric's been waiting for.

LYRIC
Again, why is it always me...

CHRONAL
Hang on, let me help...

OTHER SCRIBBLERS EN MASSE
NO!!!!!

It's too late. Chronal, aka Captain Clumsy, gets up and promptly trips over nothing so much as his own feet and lands on the pile of bodies, narrowly missing SHIFT as he does. There is much yelling and swearing once more.

LYRIC
God damn it!

SHIFT
I can't get around you all now to get to the lights. That's very inconvenient.

AMITY
Not the best decision you've ever made, Chrone.

WRAITH
Who's that, now?

LYRIC
That would be me. I'd tell you to stop, but apparently that would be out of character.

CHRONAL
Well, that just made everything a bit less comfortable.

FINESSE
Oh, for god's sake enough!

She flings out an arm and catches SHIFT's ankle.

SHIFT
Why, what are you – argh! Warn me before you do that!

LYRIC
Good lord, what has she done?

SHIFT
She turned my eyes into cat's eyes!

FINESSE
I can turn your vocal chords and ears into a bat's, if you'd prefer.

SHIFT
No! No, cat's eyes are fine. Warning is better.

FINESSE
Oh, whatever. The independent power supply switch is in the communications room.

SHIFT
Yeah, yeah...

She edges past the mass of bodies on the floor and leaves the room.

WRAITH
What, she couldn't have helped us up first? What kind of a friend is she?

AMITY
I know! We could play a game to pass the time!

FINESSE
Ooh, yes. "Statements That Could Make This Situation Worse." I'll go first : Argh, Lyric! Why are you naked?!

CHRONAL
Yes, that definitely makes it worse.

LYRIC
Firstly, that's actually a question, not a statement –

FINESSE
My game, my rules.

LYRIC
And secondly I'm going to kick your arse next time we spar. Oh yes. You will rue.

SHIFT (returning)
My turn! How about, "I can't find the switch"?

WRAITH
That had better be part of the game.

SHIFT
Sorry.

CHRONAL
Yes, that also makes it worse. Well done. Whose elbow is that?

AMITY
Oh, could be mine. Sorry.

FINESSE
It's next to the Solariax fusebox, on the left.

SHIFT
Oh, that! Hang on...

She leaves again.

AMITY
Remember when I won the poker? That was a great day.

LYRIC
Why is this even happening? I thought this building had solar panels and that stuff! Why are we not using the independent power supply anyway?

CHRONAL
Because Solariax were just starting out, and we wanted to support them. And since it's still green energy it seemed like the right thing to do.

FINESSE
The heroic thing, if you will.

LYRIC
Yeah, well, since they supply half the country now, I vote we switch back to our own power again.

FINESSE
You say that like you're not loving this.

AMITY
Yeah. We know the truth, Lyric.

WRAITH
Er... I think the table's about to fall on us.

AMITY
Are we still playing the game?

Suddenly the lights flicker on, revealing a comedy pile of limbs and costumes in the middle of the floor. There's a slight, awkward pause, and then everyone sets about extricating themselves as though nothing happened.

AMITY
So that list, eh?

CHRONAL
Oh, yes. And those cards. I think we could work them into the rules.

WRAITH
I can't find my pen. Can I have one of the sofa pens?

CHRONAL
Yeah, why not?

FINESSE
Enough practice for today?

LYRIC
No. You will rue.

SHIFT
Um, actually, ruing, carding and penning will have to wait. We've had a call.

FINESSE
From whom?

SHIFT
The Government.

Scene the Next: the Senedd, which is in Cardiff. The Scribblers park the Trans-Jet on the roof and slide down the big tree bit in the middle to land in the main council chamber. Lots of important Governmental types are there, and some worried-looking scientists. There's even the Prime Minister, who shall go unnamed so as not to date this otherwise stellar piece of historic fiction.

PRIME MINISTER
Welcome, Scribblers! We're glad you could make it. It seems we have a bit of an emergency.

FINESSE
The power cut?

PRIME MINISTER
Yes, although it's more than just a power cut, which would have been catastrophic enough itself. Er, this is Professor Clarkson, he'll be briefing you.

A slimy-looking middle aged man sidles forward, all white coat, clipboard and comb-over. He smiles at them, although it looks like an expression he has to practice several times a night in the mirror to remove much of the slime, and even as he does knows that he will only ever be moderately successful in doing so.

PROF CLARKSON
Scribblers! Delighted to meet you, although under such unfortunate cirumstances. If you'll all take a seat?

SHIFT (whispered to FINESSE)
Why must he speak in sentence fragments?

FINESSE (whispered back)
He hates the verb 'to be'.

The Scribblers all take a seat about three rows back from the front, because only squares sit by the teacher. SHIFT and FINESSE start passing notes to each other in a small notebook; WRAITH begins drawing amusing pictures of PROF CLARKSON and LYRIC aims a rubber band at CHRONAL's head. AMITY actually listens, because she's a good girl. PROF CLARKSON, meanwhile, starts off a power point presentation.

PROF CLARKSON
The power cut itself can be traced directly back to Solariax Ltd, who supply approximately sixty percent of the country with power including all hospitals, schools, police stations and other such municipal buildings. Fortunately, by now we've managed to reconnect all such structures by linking them up to the grid supplied by FossCarbon Inc.

AMITY
Already? That was quick.

PROF CLARKSON
Oh, FossCarbon is very efficient, my dear. Although, it's not quite as astonishing as you might think. They've long thought that over-dependence on something as unreliable as renewable energy might be... unwise, and so had such contingency structures in place.

AMITY has an Opinion on this opinion and exchanges a small glance with FINESSE, but they say nothing, because they are superheroes and it would be unseemly.

PROF CLARKSON
Now: to the problem itself. Solariax uses Heulobattery technology in order to store the electricity it produces before supplying it to the country. Unfortunately, the technology has been sabotaged from within, and it seems it has reversed its polarity – instead of sending the electricity outwards it is currently drawing it all back in, but it's still producing electricity. It doesn't have the storage capacity for all of the electricity. If it's not stopped, it will explode; the ensuing explosion will probably destroy most of south Wales.

FINESSE
How long do we have?

PROF CLARKSON
Right now, forty seven minutes.

FINESSE
Jesus god.

LYRIC
Well, that bites hard.

CHRONAL
So what do we do?

PROF CLARKSON
Well, there is the good news! We've been worried about this for quite some time, and so we've developed an energy signature that we can send to the Heulobattery that will trigger the auto-destruct sequence. It's designed to implode, so we can use it with up to five minutes to go and it will only destroy the plant and a five-mile radius around it.

SHIFT
So who's sabotaged it?

A new photo appears on screen of a slightly creepy-looking scientist with a Hitler moustache and stupid hair. It's really stupid hair, too. In fact, I won't even try to hide from you that this guy is a bad guy, because his hair is just too stupid to bother, so screw him. Bad Guy ahoy. WRAITH studiously begins an amusing picture of him, because this is how WRAITH explores the world and new concepts.

PROF CLARKSON
This man, a Professor Pearce-Morgan. He worked extensively on the Heulobattery, so whatever he's done, it's inherently in the system and can't be changed by anyone else. He's demanding the immediate transfer of all FossCarbon systems to Solariax.

CHRONAL
Or he'll blow up the country? What the hell is wrong with him?

FINESSE puts a hand on CHRONAL's arm and suddenly the world freezes around the Scribblers, leaving everyone else's face frozen in those incredibly unflattering freezeframes that cameras pick up but no one else. WRAITH snorts and throws the screwed- up drawing at PROF CLARKSON.

AMITY
He's lying.

LYRIC
What? Who? About what?

AMITY
Professor Clarkson. I can't be specific, but his brain is full of all the wrong chemicals and hormones and things. And he's in a high state of excitement; not nervous anticipation, positive excitement. He knows far more about this than he's letting on.

SHIFT
I could turn into a polar bear and beat him up until he confessed?

FINESSE
I'm not sure the PM would take that well.

CHRONAL
It did seem unlikely that a Solariax employee would sabotage the Heulobattery.

AMITY
Oh, er... that bit was true, I think.

CHRONAL
... Well, you know what that doesn't make? Sense.

LYRIC
Stupid hair, though.

FINESSE
I quite agree.

SHIFT
Solariax are slowly conquering the country anyway. Why on earth would he need to force a transfer?

FINESSE
He wouldn't, if he really was working for Solariax.

CHRONAL
Ah.

SHIFT
Oh.

LYRIC
Well, that can suck my inner –

FINESSE
You say such beautiful things. My theory, gang, is that we have a pair of evil scientists on our hands, here, and they're both working for FossCarbon.

WRAITH
Ahh. They had the power supply back so quickly.

CHRONAL
And such stupid hair.

AMITY
And when Solariax take over FossCarbon will be out of a job. So they've rigged the Heulobattery to blow or be blown up by us now, thus forcing the switch back to FossCarbon.

SHIFT
There must be some other way to shut it down, though? Mister Hitler there must have a back door.

FINESSE
That's true. Back to real time, Chronal, I have some questions.

CHRONAL concentrates and the world rushes back to normal, everyone's faces sliding into generally prettier expressions than the previous freakshow. It's not easy having time-freezy powers. You see gross faces all the time.

FINESSE
So, why can't we just stroll up to the main gate of the plant and force Professor Pearce-Morgan to undo what he's done?

PROF CLARKSON
Er... well, it's likely he can't. But even if he could, the Heulobattery is disrupting and draining all electrical equipment in an increasing radius. We couldn't get near except on foot, and it's locked down.

FINESSE
Aha! Well, fortunately, you're talking to the right people. We can get in.

PROF CLARKSON
But...

PRIME MINISTER
Do you think you could get him to reverse the process?

FINESSE
I have some persuasive team members, Prime Minister.

PRIME MINISTER
Well, that would solve everything!

PROF CLARKSON
But...

PRIME MINISTER
Yes, yes, okay. You have thirty minutes, Scribblers, but then we have to send the signal. Understand?

FINESSE
Yes, sir.

She pokes CHRONAL into another time freeze.

FINESSE
Right. Plan time, Shift.

SHIFT
Okay. Amity, you're staying here under the pretence of running dispatch, since they'll think our comms don't work. In reality you're keeping an eye and a mind on Professor Clarkson, and don't let him talk the Prime Minister into ditching Solariax.

AMITY
Okay, but your comms actually won't work, you know.

FINESSE
I have a plan for that.

SHIFT
Really?

FINESSE
Have you met my sister?

SHIFT
Brilliant! Fine. Chronal, you're going to need to push yourself – get to FossCarbon with Lyric and Wraith and find out whatever they did to the Heulobattery. You need to work out how to reverse it or at least disarm it in some way. You also need to find evidence.

CHRONAL
What about you?

FINESSE
We're going to Solariax. And we're going with my sister.

CHRONAL
Wow, I'm glad I'm not Professor Pearce-Morgan.