Scribblers: Going Green

Scribblers: Going Green
Issue Two

Scene the First: In the National Assembly (which is swish and in Cardiff.) The Scribblers are leaving as AMITY waves them off out of the door. PROF CLARKSON is in the background with the PRIME MINISTER, bothering him about the necessity of blowing Solariax all to hell right now. As they leave, AMITY whispers to the others.

AMITY
What do I have to do here, exactly?

FINESSE
Cover for us. Pretend you're linking us together mentally and don't let the Prime Minister agree with Professor Crap over there.

CHRONAL
And tell him he has an air of filth about him.

FINESSE
Don't tell him that.

CHRONAL
We have to go. We don't have much time.

AMITY
You realise you've given me the most boring job ever?

WRAITH
Ha ha. Amity is like Anne from the Famous Five.

AMITY
You've made me Anne?!

CHRONAL
No, seriously. We really don't have much time. Barely more than half an hour, it's rubbish.

SHIFT
You get to mentally influence the Prime Minister's opinions and courses of action in the honourable service of your country and you think you're the tea girl?

AMITY(slightly sullenly)
Yeah, all right. Still boring, though.

FINESSE
So make it into a game.

LYRIC
With lashings of top quality string and ginger beer.

CHRONAL
You know I feel the flow of time, yes?

FINESSE
We'd best leave or he'll be fretful. See if you can find out if anyone else here is in on Professor Crap's scheme.

AMITY
Can't believe I'm Anne...

They leave. AMITY sighs and wanders nearer to PROF CLARKSON and the PRIME MINISTER.

PROF CLARKSON
... fact is, though, Prime Minister, we can only safely blow the Heulobattery with an absolute guarentee of success in the next eight or so minutes.

AMITY
But what about the hostages?

Both men turn and stare at her, and AMITY puts on her best polite smile. It's a bit terrifying, since it's hiding the fact that she could change your entire personality and sense of self with a wink. Anne, indeed.

PRIME MINISTER
Hostages? There was no mention of –

PROF CLARKSON
Because there aren't any.

AMITY
Solariax has a large contingent of night staff, in fact. If the place is locked down then they won't have escaped; blowing the plant will kill them.

PRIME MINISTER
Then I'm hereby pinning all our hopes on the Scribblers.

PROF CLARKSON
You – what?

PRIME MINISTER
Yes! I won't risk those people's lives!

PROF CLARKSON
But –

PRIME MINISTER
I shan't!

PROF CLARKSON
I really –

PRIME MINISTER
Silence, man! I must say, there is an air of filth about you.

He strides away to the other polititans, trailed slightly morosely by PROF CLARKSON, and AMITY watches thoughtfully.

AMITY
That was fun, but maybe I overdid it slightly.

Scene the Next, all aboard the Trans-Jet. WRAITH is driving, a slightly manic-looking grin on his face as the others watch him with some trepidation. SHIFT is clinging so tightly to the arms of her chair that her fingers have developed octopuss suction cups on their undersides. LYRIC has the expression of a man very carefully choosing his words, and in fairness, he probably is.

FINESSE
Right! This will do for us, you can stop here.

SHIFT (mutters)
Oh, mercy thy name is Finesse...

WRAITH
Are you sure? I can probably get you a bit closer before the electro-apocalypse destroys the plane.

FINESSE
Er... best not risk it, eh?

LYRIC (whispers)
You absolute traitors.

WRAITH
Okay. Going down.

They sort of fall out of the sky, stopping barely an inch from the floor and abruptly hovering. Realistically WRAITH is probably the best pilot of all of them since he can do this without crashing, but it's not a viewpoint any Scribbler subscribes to on the grounds that most of their plane journeys are spent watching the insides of their eyelids or contemplating existentialism versus nihilism. Anyway; the door slides open and FINESSE gets out. Then she goes back in and morphs SHIFT's fingers back to human form, and they both leave the Trans-Jet under the resentful stares of LYRIC and CHRONAL.

CHRONAL
How will you get there now in time?

FINESSE
Ah! That's the most stylish part.

SHIFT
Thoroughbred?

FINESSE
Andalusian, thank you. I like to save the world in style.

SHIFT
Good choice.

LYRIC
Is that some kind of code?

SHIFT pauses, and then morphs into an Andalusian horse prancing on the spot. LYRIC laughs as FINESSE leaps onto SHIFT's back.

LYRIC
Excellent! Captain Awesome! Why can't I ride in to save the day on a white horse? I even have a sword!

FINESSE
There are rules against you looking too suave. Also, you can't ride.

CHRONAL
And it's a grey horse, not white.

FINESSE
Good boy.

CHRONAL
Yay!

WRAITH
'It' is Shift.

FINESSE
'You' are running out of time, even with Timey-Wimey there. Get going.

CHRONAL
Good luck!

FINESSE
And you.

She turns SHIFT around and they gallop off into the night. CHRONAL concentrates and the Trans-Jet flickers out of sight.

Scene the Next, at FossCarbon Inc Main Offices, which are in Port Talbot. The Trans-Jet flickers onto the roof and CHRONAL and LYRIC appear on the outside of it so fast you'd have thought that they'd teleported. WRAITH appears at a much more moderate pace, painfully casual. Clearly, he's an evil genius. I don't know how no one's noticed.

CHRONAL
Right. I'm going to run through and search their computers. You guys will have to handle any goons around the place. And keep an eye out for anything suspicious.

LYRIC
Any suspicious objects?

AMITY (over the comm)
That's some kind of sex joke, isn't it?

LYRIC
Well, it was going to be. It feels a bit uncomfortable now.

CHRONAL
Split up. Let's go.

They sneak through the roof access and into the building. CHRONAL time-freezes and slips away into the offices, where he starts hacking into the FossCarbon computer systems. LYRIC finds his way into a large industrial area, on some metal walkways above a big room full of industrial gas containers. WRAITH finds his way into the same room, only on the floor.

WRAITH
Lyric. I can see you.

LYRIC
I can see you too.

CHRONAL
Stop stalking each other. That's not how it works.

WRAITH
Yeah, well, I don't do your ridiculous mainstream definitions.

LYRIC
Um... Wraith? What's that machine down there?

WRAITH
I don't know. It's mainstream and therefore contradicts my life.

LYRIC
I don't think it's mainstream. I think it counts as Suspicious Machinery Get.

WRAITH
How rare.

He goes over to investigate, but at that moment GOONS appear! Oh noes! WRAITH stops and looks at them all.

GOON#1 (leering)
Alright, darling? You lost?

WRAITH
Darling?

GOON#2
Shit, he's got a beard...

GOON#1
Oh, er... sorry, mate...

WRAITH
You thought I was a girl?

GOON#1
Well, I... the hair, and...

GOON#3
Jesus Christ, we're meant to be killing him, not apologising to him.

GOON#2
Oh, yeah.

LYRIC (muttered)
Well, that was incriminating.

WRAITH concentrates, and suddenly three images of him appear while the real one fades from view. The GOONS look around themselves, a bit bewildered.

GOON#3
Oh, for the love of... Guys, seriously. Pick one each.

They all charge at the WRAITHS. Meanwhile, up on the walkways more GOONS arrive at each end, effectively trapping LYRIC. He sort of raises an eyebrow suavely and promptly goes all ninja on their faces and ties them up in words and ropes.

Scene the Next. Back in the Assembly, which is in Cardiff. AMITY is wandering around the Assembly, keeping a surreptitious eye on PROFESSOR CRAP (I can't remember what I called him.) Finally, he sneaks out of the main chamber and into one of those side rooms with the tables and chairs and tea trolleys. AMITY follows, and stands in the shadows outside the door.

PROF CRAP (muttering quietly)
We could have a big problem, here.

MYSTERY EXTRA PERSON
Relax. The Scribblers are good, but even they couldn't work this out. Not when they've all run off to Solariax. They won't find anything there.

PROF CRAP
Except one of the Converters. What if they work it out from that?

OTHER GUY IN THE ROOM
They have twenty minutes. The Prime Minister –

PROF CRAP
And that's the other thing! I don't know what's gotten into the Prime Minister! I was talking to him about the possibility of bringing the deadline forwards, and he suddenly said I had an air of filth!

THE OTHER BLOKE
You do have an air of filth.

PROF CRAP
I... well, yes, but people don't usually say it to my face!

OTHER GUY
No, that's true. And not the Prime Minister. Hmm. It could be that remaining Scribbler...

PROF CRAP
Oh, god...

OTHER GUY
Don't worry. I have a contingency plan. I'll put it on stand-by. Now quick; get back out there. We'll be missed.

The doors open, and AMITY dives behind a plant. PROF CRAP slimes away along the corridor. Thirty seconds later, the room's other occupant leaves, and AMITY's jaw drops.

Scene the next, meanwhile. FINESSE and SHIFT gallop up to the Solariax main plant, the Heulobattery a big, ominous, glowing shape in the background, humming away. The gates are locked down tight with an air of finality and impregnability, the walls a good twenty five feet, like prisons. As they near it, a figure hovering in front of them and looking in appears. FINESSE gallops SHIFT to a halt.

FINESSE
Up there, see?

SHIFT snorts and tosses her head, impatiently. FINESSE rolls her eyes, and calls up to the hovering figure.

FINESSE
Hey! Little Miss Sunshine! Down here!

SOLAR
Hooray! You've adopted my name!

FINESSE
No, I was being witheringly sarcastic. One day you will learn to tell.

SOLAR
It's all the same with you.

FINESSE
You bring out the worst in me.

SOLAR lands, and FINESSE climbs off SHIFT, who trots around in a tight circle fretfully before her outline shimmers and she transforms back. FINESSE and SOLAR catch her as she staggers slightly.

SOLAR
As entrances go, that was cool as poo.

FINESSE
I know! We should do it more often.

SHIFT
Will you transform me back, next time? I think I've strained something...

SOLAR
She didn't transform you back?! What kind of a friend are you?!

There's a brief pause as both Scribblers yelp and rub their ears. SOLAR is bloody loud.

FINESSE
She has to learn. And why do you only have two volumes? Why must you either shout or whisper?

SHIFT
Now my ears hurt. And I'm strained.

SOLAR (giggling)
Oh, I'm sorry!

SHIFT (muttering)
But why? Why is she laughing at our pain?

FINESSE
She's a sadist. Anyway.

She hands a communicator to a still-giggling SOLAR, whose main super power is, in fact, the unbreakable ability to work herself into a state of hysteria, but nonetheless in this instance activates her secondary (and actually useful) power to produce energy. Electricity sparks momentarily, and then all three of them have working communicators.

SHIFT
Communication Get!

AMITY (over comm)
Hey! Guys! Welcome back!

FINESSE
How's everything at your end?

AMITY
Oh, you know. Worse than we thought. I think he may have the environmental minister on side.

FINESSE
What?

SOLAR
What?

FINESSE
Oh, shit.

SOLAR
What?

FINESSE
Er, we have to –

SOLAR
No! I'm sorry but what? The environmental minister has decided that receiving lots of money is more important to him than saving the environment?

SHIFT
I'm just going to stand over here...

SOLAR
Never mind the environmental impact of burning millions of tonnes of coal every year! Never mind the economic fall-out when the coal runs out and we have no replacement! As long as the bar steward gets his fourth god damned holiday to Australia every year!

FINESSE
Um, we need –

SOLAR
Or maybe he'd like a fifth car! Or a house with six more bedrooms so he can fill it with all of his whores! Or maybe he's developed some kind of rare blood disorder that can only be fixed by owning a football team rather than doing his bloody job! How in the name of all that is sacred did he even get this job?!?

AMITY
I think he's a Tory.

SOLAR
Spit on him!! Spit on him UNLESS HE IS ON FIRE!!!!

CHRONAL (over comm)
I'm with Solar.

SHIFT
Literally, so am I. We need to go now, though.

SOLAR
I'M REALLY ANGRY NOW!!!!

FINESSE
I AM THE WALRUS COO COO CACHOO!!

There is a comedy pause as everyone turns to stare at FINESSE. Well; SHIFT does. Back in the Assembly, AMITY freezes, staring at the poor, innocent Minister for Buses, who feels really rather scrutinised. In FossCarbon all three WRAITHs suddenly spin around on the spot to stare at the back wall, a move than confuses his GOONS to no end. Up on the walkways LYRIC even stops mid-word and mid-punch, balanced delicately on the handrails. In the main computer bank CHRONAL freezes, his eyes sliding to fix on his communicator, presently set to speakerphone. SOLAR, on the other hand, goes from foaming-at-the-mouth livid to collapsing in hysterical laughter in the time it takes to blink.

FINESSE
Works every time. Right. Give yourself wings, Shift. We're going in.

She pulls SOLAR to her feet and they both fly up into the air, propelled on SOLAR's stored energy. SHIFT flies after them as a peregrine and they land just outside the big, shiny glass doors at the front of the building.

SOLAR (slightly calmer)
You realise it's night, yes? I'll run out of energy.

SHIFT (morphing back)
We want you to. You're the back-up plan for when the Heulobattery explodes.

SOLAR
Is that definite? You didn't say that was definite. That's trading standards, I could sue.

FINESSE
No, 'trading standards' are the set of laws governing the information given to consumers about a specific project –

SOLAR (wails)
Stop being mean!

FINESSE
Stop being loud, Jesus...

SHIFT
It's not definite, technically. But, you know: Laws of Superheroics.

CHRONAL (over comm)
You're totally only going to stop it within a second of the time limit as well.

FINESSE
Especially at this rate. Time check, Chronal.

CHRONAL
Fourteen minutes left.

FINESSE
Good boy.

CHRONAL
Yay!

SHIFT
We need to get in. Solar?

SOLAR
Woohoo!

She lets loose a Massive Bolt Of Energy and obliterates the door.

FINESSE
Well congratulations. You defeated the door.

SOLAR(giggling)
Don't –

FINESSE
Oh, that's one door that will not be troubling you again.

SOLAR (giggling)
Stop it!

FINESSE
We're just thinking too small-scale with doors, you know. That's how you open one.

SOLAR
You're making me laugh...

FINESSE
Yes. The door wasn't, though, maybe that's where it went wrong. I think I stand a better chance this way.

SHIFT (ignoring them)
Any luck yet, guys? What are we looking for?

WRAITH
A big, suspicious machine, rubbish design. It looks like Suspicious Machine.jpeg. I could have done better.

SOLAR
Stop being mean to me!

FINESSE
Well, the door certainly has.

SHIFT
Let's go in, children.

They go in, SHIFT ignoring the sounds of FINESSE and SOLAR bickering.

Scene the Next: back in FossCarbon Inc, which is in Port Talbot. WRAITH is just polishing off his GOONS on the factory floor while LYRIC does the same thing upstairs.

WRAITH
Haha! Twatted, you girls. See? Didn't like that, did you? Being called a girl.

GOON#1
I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I just saw the hair, and I just...

WRAITH
My hair is manly!

GOON#2
Well, you could try tying it back...

WRAITH
Then I'd look pretentious. Do you just have no cultural sense?

LYRIC (calling down from the balcony)
Wraith! You alright down there?

WRAITH (morosely)
No, I'm a mess. People think I'm a girl and I haven't done anything with my life.

LYRIC
Dude, you're saving the world as we speak.

WRAITH
That only solves 50% of the problem.

CHRONAL (over comm)
I've done it! I'm in the system. Your Suspicious Machine is a new model of Tronflow Converter. There's another one in Solariax. The two of them have been linked by this computer, it's using some incredibly complex coding I don't recognise. It's why the FossCarbon systems are immune, though. And, indeed, why the Heulobattery has gone haywire.

FINESSE (over comm)
If we just break them...?

CHRONAL
No. It won't work. Not unless I can break the coding to redirect the electricity; otherwise it'll still blow up the Heulobattery.

LYRIC
Gay and lame. I am Lyric's complete lack of happiness.

CHRONAL
I'll work on the coding.

FINESSE
Good. Meanwhile, send Amity all the evidence you've got and can send the Assembly. Amity?

AMITY (on comm)
Hello!

FINESSE
Take him down. Don't spit on him, though.

SOLAR
No, do! Do spit on him! Unless he is on fire!

FINESSE
Don't... right, we're going after Professor Pearce-Morgan. Keep in touch, kiddies.

AMITY
I get to take down the corrupt government! Hooray!