Scene the First. We are in some sort of Sinister Room, with lots of complicated equipment set up and humming away. There are some large cages along one wall. KAYLEIGH is in one, still asleep. A RANDOM SCIENTIST (whom I forgot to set up in the previous issue because I didn’t read my own plan. Let’s call him Geoffrey) is in the cage next to hers. The NARRATOR is leaning against a wall looking surly and like he’s trying to compose angsty teenage poetry. Loser. MR. SINTARO enters the room, all suit-wearing mobster boss. He even carries a cane.
SINTARO
Ah, Narrator. Well done! Did you have any trouble?
NARRATOR
No. Well, the Scribblers turned up again, but the plan worked. They didn’t even know I’d been there until it was too late.
SINTARO
Hmm. They may be a problem, as pathetically inept as they are. We shall have to deal with them. Any chance they followed you?
NARRATOR
None.
SINTARO
Really. Well, we’re well defended here, anyway. Were my suggestions helpful, by the way?
NARRATOR
Yeah, the heart attack thing was great! I’d never have thought of it, I don’t know how you do it.
SINTARO spares him a look that leaves us in no doubt as to his opinions on the subject of the NARRATOR ‘thinking’. He walks over to his Strange Equipment and turns one section on. It’s like a high-tech greenhouse, complete with compost in the bottom.
SINTARO
Come then! Let us start. Wake her up.
NARRATOR
And then Kayleigh woke up.
KAYLEIGH wakes up, sits up and looks around in mild alarm. She doesn’t bother with clichés, though, because she’s not that kind of girl. Instead she moves straight for the side of the cage to look at GEOFFREY.
KAYLEIGH
Geoffrey? Are you all right?
SINTARO
He’s fine, just dazed.
KAYLEIGH
Really? Who are you?
SINTARO
Ah. Fifteen years of reaching for fame, and still… “Who are you?”. Most dissatisfying.
KAYLEIGH
Try X-Factor. They let anyone on.
Scene the Next. Meanwhile, back at the Machynlleth Biochemical Research Centre (which is in Machynlleth), the Scribblers are finishing handing the Hired Goons over to the police. AMITY comes and rejoins them.
AMITY
It’s official, guys – not one plant missing.
SHIFT
Go us!
FINESSE
Yeah, but still no Kayleigh. I think they took her.
CHRONAL
But why would they take her and no plants? It makes no sense.
FINESSE
Yes it does. We were guarding the plants, remember? They couldn’t have gotten them without risking damaging them. But if Sintaro already has the necessary equipment, then Kayleigh can just grow the plants for him. He has his own never-ending supply.
CHRONAL
That is the worst news ever. You know what kind of news that is? The worst ever. This is not a good day.
AMITY
But why would he need a never-ending supply of it? He only needs to take that serum once.
SHIFT
If it works. It may well not, it’s still experimental.
FINESSE
Or he could be looking to give his Hired Goons and Thugs powers, too.
CHRONAL blurs for a second, and then looks decisively at them.
CHRONAL
Right. We need to find Kayleigh; that’s the mission. Amity?
AMITY
I can’t feel anything from her. She’s not scared or anything. She might be unconscious, I suppose.
CHRONAL
Stay on it – she’ll get worried as soon as she knows Sintaro’s plan for her. We may need to act quickly. Lyric – tell us about the Narrator.
LYRIC
Sorry?
CHRONAL
That’s who took Kayleigh. It’s on the CCTV; he went right to her lab.
AMITY
What? How?
CHRONAL
Lyric?
LYRIC
I didn’t realise he even had powers until the warehouse earlier. I have no idea how they work.
FINESSE
He can narrate stuff into being. Kind of like Lyric’s power, but non-physical. He makes stuff occur rather than physically manifest.
There’s a pause as they look at her.
FINESSE
What?
CHRONAL
Worst. Day. Ever.
AMITY
I need tea.
SHIFT
We all need tea.
FINESSE
Can I have hot chocolate?
CHRONAL blurs again, and is suddenly holding a print-out with information and a mini google map on it.
CHRONAL
Okay, children. Sintaro is head of a company called Transporters Of Reprobate Yobs, who shift offenders about the country to various prisons, detention centres and others. Presumably this is where he gets so many henchmen from. They have warehouses about the country, but three main ones that I think are likely: one in Swansea, one in Cardigan and one in the old nuclear station, just outside Trawsfynydd. If Finesse is right and he’s wanting tonnes of this plant, he’s going to need space for all the equipment. It probably would need to be somewhere more secluded as well.
WRAITH
Where’s the one in Swansea?
CHRONAL
Fforestfach.
WRAITH
Not that one, then.
Scene the Next. KAYLEIGH is standing at the front of her cage, SINTARO is still evil, NARRATOR is still surly and GEOFFREY is still one-dimensional. In fact, everything is still pretty much the same.
KAYLEIGH
So, I see you’ve set up a cultivation and extraction plant for the XGH.
SINTARO
How perceptive. Indeed I have, Professor Jones, and before we proceed I must explain your predicament to you. I know all about your powers: the room we are in contains no plant life whatsoever. It has been fumigated to clear it of spores, even. We are surrounded by twenty metres of solid concrete on all sides, in an area that has itself been cleared of plant life for half a mile. The only things here that you can possibly affect are XGH spores. Do you understand?
KAYLEIGH
…You think you cleared a half-mile wide area of all plant life?
SINTARO
I know we did, Professor. Now; to business. The XGH spores are in the germinarium. If you would make them grow for me, I’d be much obliged.
KAYLEIGH
And what’s the Evil Bad Guy Ultimatum?
SINTARO
I’ll kill Geoffrey if you don’t.
KAYLEIGH
Ah.
Scene the Next. Still in the Machynlleth Biochemical Research Centre which, for those who are interested, is in Machynlleth.
AMITY
I’ve got her!
WRAITH
Kayleigh get.
SHIFT
Where is she?
AMITY
North. She’s not happy. She’s worried about someone.
FINESSE
Sintaro has a hostage?
SHIFT
What a big awkward. Did you know, by the way, that the word ‘hostage’ comes from the Old French ‘hoste’ meaning ‘guest?’ And yet we also get the word ‘host’ from it, which is really the opposite of ‘guest.’
FINESSE
That’s interesting.
LYRIC
Er… should we go to Trawsfynydd, then?
CHRONAL
To the Trans-Jet, Scribblers!
AMITY
Hooray! I packed sandwiches!
Scene the Next. KAYLEIGH and GEOFFREY are alone in their room, KAYLEIGH pacing. GEOFFREY is now awake, and showing signs of developing an extra dimension.
KAYLEIGH
I need a beer.
GEOFFREY
Can’t you break us out at all?
KAYLEIGH
I’m scanning for anything botanical below us, but I haven’t found anything yet. They were good at clearing the area.
GEOFFREY
Will he really kill me?
KAYLEIGH
Probably. Did you see the emo guy, though? I’m surprised he wasn’t sitting in the corner slitting his wrists.
GEOFFREY
I’m going to die…
KAYLEIGH
Probably.
The NARRATOR enters from the side and looks at KAYLEIGH in a no-one-understands-me kind of way. Loser. KAYLEIGH looks pointedly at his wrists.
NARRATOR
Have you started yet? Why is nothing happening yet?
KAYLEIGH
Because it takes time. They’re difficult plants to grow. Are your sleeves that long to hide your scars?
NARRATOR
What? I don’t have scars.
KAYLEIGH
Yeah, right.
NARRATOR
I don’t, okay? You wouldn’t understand anyway.
KAYLEIGH
Jesus stop whining at me! I don’t care!
GEOFFREY
Um… excuse me?
NARRATOR
Uh…yeah?
GEOFFREY
Are you going to kill me if she doesn’t grow all of the plants? I mean… there seem to be several hundred…
NARRATOR
I dunno. Ask Mr Sintaro.
GEOFFREY cries.
KAYLEIGH
Why are there so many plants, anyway? He’s never going to need that many plants just to make one serum.
NARRATOR
(Grinning a smarmy Gethin-like grin of rubbishness) Because it won’t all be for him! He’s going to make a super-team, like those Scribblers; and then he’s going to take over the world!
Dramatic chord.
Scene the Next. The Scribblers land in the grounds of the old power station outside Trawsfynydd, cloaked in one of WRAITH’S invisi-bubbles. CHRONAL faces them all.
CHRONAL
The doors are all heavily guarded, and we’re going to need the element of surprise for find Kayleigh before the hostage is killed.
AMITY
His name is Geoffrey.
CHRONAL
Yeah, you know what I don’t? Care. Split up, team; take an entrance each. We’re all in communication with each other so just shout if you need help. Ready?
LYRIC
Captain ready.
They all express sentiments of readiness and get the crap out of the Trans-Jet to do something about it. SHIFT turns into an adder and slithers across the grass to a side door, guarded by two Hired Goons with guns. Before leaving the grass she turns into a lady bird and crawls under the doorframe. Once inside, the lady bird stops and twitches for a few seconds before turning back into SHIFT, who resists the urge to look for her other four legs.
SHIFT
(Whisper) I’m in.
CHRONAL
Good work!
At another door into the building, more Hired Goons are standing nearby with guns like walking clichés. AMITY approaches them, just out of sight.
HIRED GOON#1
So, I was playing Halo last night. I totally beat the final boss on hard mode, it was awesome.
AMITY grins in the shadows, and HIRED GOON#2 stops smiling and rolls his eyes.
HIRED GOON#2
Yeah okay, whatever.
HIRED GOON#1
What? I did! I didn’t even die!
HIRED GOON#2
Oh, no one beats the final boss without dying at least twice, okay? I’m not stupid.
HIRED GOON#1
Ironic statement, there. You may not be able to hold a joystick straight, but the rest of us are actually good at some things, dude.
HIRED GOON#2
Yeah, like lying and… that’s about it for you, actually, isn’t it?
They have a bit of a set-to, all fists and broken noses. AMITY slips inside.
Around the corner, FINESSE waits for her pair of Hired Goons to investigate the noise and sneaks in when their backs are turned. LYRIC makes one of his doors in the wall and uses that. WRAITH goes invisibly up a fire escape and gets in that way. CHRONAL, meanwhile, merely waits for his pair of Hired Goons to step away from their door slightly, and then freezes time to enter.
CHRONAL
So far, so good. Let’s go, people.
Scene the Next. GEOFFREY is crying. KAYLEIGH is kneeling on the floor of her cage, her hands flat against the floor, concentrating. The NARRATOR has mercifully crapped off again. No one cares.
KAYLEIGH
Come on…come on…
GEOFFREY
Have you found something? What is it?
KAYLEIGH
I’m not sure, it’s quite faint. But I think I’ve found some Japanese Knotweed.
GEOFFREY
So? What’s the point! A plant can’t get through concrete! I’m doomed.
KAYLEIGH
Japanese Knotweed can get through concrete, Geoffrey.
GEOFFREY
Oh. Really?
KAYLEIGH
Yes.
GEOFFREY
So… how long before I’m saved?
KAYLEIGH
A while. I might not be in time…
A door opens at the other end of the room, and SINTARO enters, looking all mobster-bossy.
SINTARO
Ah. Professor Jones. I see that you have yet to produce even one sprout of XGH for me.
KAYLEIGH
They’re hard to grow. And you’ve asked me to do three hundred.
SINTARO
Indeed I have. However, I find I grow impatient. I rather suspect, you see, that you aren’t even trying.
He steps over to GEOFFREY’S cage, and pulls out a gun. He levels it at GEOFFREY, who promptly faints.
SINTARO
One sprout. Now.
KAYLEIGH
I can’t just –
SINTARO
Focus on one sprout and grow it, now. Or Geoffrey dies.
KAYLEIGH
And then what would you use as leverage?
SINTARO
Oh, come now, Professor! We both know that there are plenty more Geoffrey’s out there, should I need them. One sprout. I’ll count to three.
KAYLEIGH
Alright!
She focuses on the seed beds beyond her cage. Nothing happens.
SINTARO
Three.
KAYLEIGH
Shut up and die.
SINTARO
Two.
KAYLEIGH
You look like that guy from Torchwood, you know.
SINTARO
One.
KAYLEIGH
It’s done! There, I’ve done it.
The sprout in the seed bed does that speeded-up-film-growing thing. KAYLEIGH sits down looking exhausted. SINTARO smiles.
SINTARO
Thank you, Professor. I shall return within the hour to see the next one.
He takes the plant and leaves to serum-ise it. KAYLEIGH smiles, and presses her hands to the floor again.
Scene the Next. AMITY is walking through a big hall. It is empty.
Suddenly, more Hired Goons appear as is their wont, for more gratuitous fighting. There are about ten of them. They see her.
HIRED GOON#3
It’s a Scribbler! Get her!
They are about to run at her when suddenly they all kind of stop, and slump a bit.
HIRED GOON#4
What’s the point? We kill her, so what?
HIRED GOON#3
Yeah, you’re probably right, actually. I mean… What happens then? What reward will we actually get? We’re not likely to be on the Team.
HIRED GOON#4
Exactly. What kind of life is this, anyway? Following someone else’s orders is all we ultimately do. There should be more to life than this.
There are general murmurs of agreement.
HIRED GOON#4
I need… I need to go and think about this…
They all wander off to re-think their lives. AMITY is terrifying.
AMITY
Er… excuse me? Sorry…
HIRED GOON#3
Yeah?
AMITY
What did you mean when you talked about a Team?
Scene the Next. GEOFFREY is awake again, and KAYLEIGH is still kneeling. She doesn’t seem to have moved, but she’s shaking slightly with exertion and sweating. SINTARO comes in.
SINTARO
Professor? Do you have anything for me?
KAYLEIGH
As it happens…
Tonnes of Japanese Knotweed come bursting through the floor, tearing the bars of the cages out of the wall. GEOFFREY leaps up and runs away like the big girl he is. A spear of Knotweed goes through SINTARO’S foot; he screams and breaks it off with his cane, hobbling for the exit. KAYLEIGH staggers out of the room.
Scene the Next. FINESSE is walking down a random corridor. More Hired Goons, etc.
FINESSE
Oh, Jesus god, seriously? Not one power among you all?
HIRED GOON#5
Heh. Looks like you’re caught, Scribbler.
FINESSE
Apparently so – wait a minute.
Japanese Knotweed bursts through the floor as KAYLEIGH staggers around a corner, clutching her head. FINESSE directs it straight at the Hired Goons, and karate chops them all in the neck as they all hop around with speared toes and things. That taken care of, she turns to KAYLEIGH.
FINESSE
Ooh. Flower Power. Are you okay? You look exhausted.
KAYLEIGH
I need tea. Or beer. Or fizzy-good make-nice. And thanks for taking over, there. I couldn’t control it any more.
FINESSE
Thanks for turning up. I shouldn’t do super-heroics alone.
AMITY
(Over the comm.) Guys? We have a problem. I’ve just found out Sintaro’s Definitely Evil Plan…
Scene the Next. CHRONAL, AMITY and SHIFT are the first to meet up, in what was probably a canteen or something.
AMITY
It’s a super-team! He’s not just going to use it on himself, he’s going to create Anti-Us!
CHRONAL
You know, I keep thinking I’ve heard the worst news ever, but really. That record just keeps getting broken today.
SHIFT
Um… at risk of making it worse, there are people coming. Lots of them.
CHRONAL
Lots?
AMITY
Yes. Lots.
A crowd of Hired Goons arrives, headed by the NARRATOR trying to look cool. CHRONAL sighs.
CHRONAL
Who is this guy, anyway?
NARRATOR
It won’t matter to you soon enough. And then Chronal couldn’t freeze time. Attack!
The Hired Goons attack as the NARRATOR stands back, not getting his hands dirty. CHRONAL grabs AMITY’S arm and pulls her behind SHIFT. SHIFT, in the meantime, becomes a lioness and launches herself at the first wave.
CHRONAL
Did you make him say that?
AMITY
What? No!
CHRONAL
I mean instead of ‘And then Chronal couldn’t use his powers.’
AMITY
I… no, I didn’t. I don’t get it. Why didn’t he just de-power you completely?
In front of them, SHIFT pounces on one set of Hired Goons; as they fall, another set raise their guns at her and she transforms instantly into a peregrine falcon, making them all miss. She arcs over their heads and drops down behind them, changing again as she falls into the polar bear and knocks them down; as she lands on her fore-paws, more come up behind her, and she becomes a Shire horse and kicks them in the teeth.
CHRONAL
Maybe he’s just an idiot. Can you keep him reckless like this? Too caught up in the moment to think of anything else to say?
AMITY
Oh, yes. Excitement with a healthy helping of testosterone.
CHRONAL
Excellent… oh, the cavalry’s here, look. That is good news.
LYRIC and WRAITH arrive just as SHIFT takes out the final Hired Goons, leaving her snarling in the middle of the floor as a fully grown and royally pissed off tiger. The NARRATOR has backed up a way nervously, watching her. He sneers a bit on seeing LYRIC.
NARRATOR
Oh, here to try again, are we? Do you want another heart attack? I could do it, you know. To all of you.
FINESSE
(Over the comm.) Chronal! Kayleigh’s fine, but Sintaro has some of the serum! I don’t know where he is!
CHRONAL
Will you -?
LYRIC
Go, dude. We’re fine.
CHRONAL speeds off past the NARRATOR and out of the room. SHIFT snarls as he passes. She’s clearly lost control a bit.
NARRATOR
And then Shift attacked her team mates.
LYRIC
Chainschainschainsandboltsallmetal
As SHIFT pounces at them, a chain appears around her hind leg, bolted to the floor. It stops her; she’s too far gone as a tiger to think of changing form.
NARRATOR
And then Amity fell-
He’s cut off as WRAITH clouts him over the head invisibly. AMITY falls over rather than asleep. As the NARRATOR hits the floor, LYRIC does his chain thing again, this time tying up the NARRATOR instead. AMITY sends him to sleep.
LYRIC
I need to learn how to make gags for evil verbally-powered super villains.
AMITY
Yes. (Pause) Who is he, Lyric?
LYRIC
He’s… my brother!
AMITY
Really? Your brother is a super-villain? Shocking.
LYRIC
Yeah. Anyway… he’s beaten now.
WRAITH
All his base are belong to us.
LYRIC
Exactly. Now – what do we do about Shift?
Scene the Next. SINTARO’S Lab of Doom. He’s loading up a phial with his creepy serum and about to store it in a nice secure case when CHRONAL arrives, all super-speedy and cool. SINTARO grins slightly manically.
SINTARO
Ah, Chronal! We finally meet properly. Although for the last time, I’m afraid.
CHRONAL
Possibly. I’m not going to let you take that phial, Sintaro.
SINTARO
No, but I will anyway. You’re crippled right now, Chronal. You can’t freeze time, can you? Only race it. The Narrator’s an unimaginative idiot, but he follows instructions so well.
CHRONAL
You’ve been telling him what to say?
SINTARO
Yes. And now I know your limits, Chronal. You can probably just about outrun the speed of sound; but you’re going to have to outrun both that in the time it takes me to say the trigger word, and the electricity before it kills poor Geoffrey on the other side of the plant.
He waves at a television screen; it shows GEOFFREY in an electric chair, crying again.
CHRONAL
God damn it, Geoffrey!
SINTARO
Quite.
CHRONAL
But… I don’t understand. Why leave me with powers at all? Why not have the Narrator take all of our powers away? Why would you want to set this up?
SINTARO
Because of what you are. You’re everything I want to be, you know. Famous; powerful; successful. A time lord, a leader of powerful people, with respect and power… Well, I’ve beaten you, Chronal. And next time we meet, I’ll be the same as you!
He shows the phial properly; it’s a syringe! Oh noes! CHRONAL tenses; SINTARO grins.
SINTARO
Best save Geoffrey! “Voltaire!”
CHRONAL vanishes, moving so quickly he can’t be seen by the naked eye. SINTARO injects himself and mwahahahas. Rubbish. Then he leaves in his helicopter, which he totally has, by the way. It’s outside the window of his Lab of Doom. As he leaves, we see CHRONAL racing through the plant, pushing himself right to his limit. He gets to the room in time and pulls out the plug socket for the chair. Hurrah! How heroic. He’s now knackered though, and so after untying GEOFFREY he staggers back to the Scribblers clutching his side and panting. It’s still heroic.
Oh, and GEOFFREY goes somewhere. I don’t care where.
Scene the Next. Back in the canteen. CHRONAL turns up at the same time as FINESSE and KAYLEIGH. SHIFT is still being a psycho tiger. The NARRATOR is still asleep.
AMITY
Oh splendid! You’re all okay.
LYRIC
Shift’s gone crazy. It’s a problem.
FINESSE
Hang on…
She concentrates and SHIFT morphs back into a human, looking kind of angry still (residual tiger issues). LYRIC takes the chain away and AMITY cheers her up. It’s all good.
SHIFT
Oh… I think I need to be vegetarian for a few days…
AMITY
Good for you!
FINESSE
Chronal? You’re looking kind of…ragged…
CHRONAL
The Narrator took my time-freezing away. I had to stop Sintaro from killing that hostage guy by running very, very fast.
AMITY
Geoffrey.
CHRONAL
I cannot express how little I care. I can’t freeze time. That is rubbish. Will this be permanent, by the way?
FINESSE
Yes. Wake him up, we’ll make him reverse it.
AMITY wakes the NARRATOR up slowly. As he comes fully awake, he’s about to start shouting when he becomes incredibly contrite. AMITY is terrifying. (But she makes good sandwiches.)
NARRATOR
Oh, Jom… I’m sorry…
WRAITH
Gross. He’s crying.
LYRIC
Give Chronal back his powers, Tom.
NARRATOR
I’m not sure how. What to say…
LYRIC
Try, ‘And then Chronal had all of his powers back.’
NARRATOR
And then Chronal had all of his powers back.
AMITY knocks the NARRATOR out again.
CHRONAL
Yes! That is good news. You know what kind of news that is? Good. Er… although… I should probably tell you all the really bad news.
SHIFT
What?
CHRONAL
Sintaro both took the serum and got away.
SHIFT
Bugger.
AMITY
Oh, well! We’ll get him another time. You never know; the serum might not have worked anyway.
And so, the Scribblers go home (tying up such loose ends along the way as giving the NARRATOR to the police etc) and have tea and biscuits back at The Pit (HQ). They also play games. Games are good.
Fin
******************
Hurrah! A comic to my name, a possible new bad guy and the outing of Jom's Secret Brother. Cracking. Overall, stereotyping people seems to work quite well, although Kayleigh and, indeed, Jester proved almost impossible. I think when I do this again I'll have to re-evaluate. Appologies to anyone who thought they/their powers didn't get enough screen time. It's Very Hard.
Friday, 15 February 2008
Countrycide: The Shooting Script
Shooting Script for Countrycide
Transcribed by Steffan H Alun
1 EXT. DARK LANE. Night.
A WOMAN is driving alone. She sees a body on the road. She gets out of the car, and takes a baseball bat, because she's clever. She then leaves the keys in the car and the door wide open. Did I say she was clever? I meant to say she's an absolute tool. She examines the body. It's not real. She goes back to the car, and the keys have gone. She tries locking the door, because she's an absolute tool. The doors are immediately unlocked again. Something enters the car. She dies. And she deserves this for being an absolute tool.
2 EXT. BRECON BEACONS. Morning.
JACK, GWEN, IANTO, OWEN and TOSHIKO are chillin'.
IANTO: Want a burger, Tosh?
TOSHIKO: NO!!!
IANTO: Why not?
TOSHIKO: Because the writers have realised they still haven't given me a personality. So now I hate burgers.
OWEN: Fortunately, I have a personality. I'm from London, so I hate grass.
IANTO: Makes sense.
JACK: Okay, guys. We're here because some people have died. Might be aliens, which would mean that the rift is spreading.
GWEN: Spreading? But that means ...
JACK: That's right. It means that bigger threats could get through, leading to an absolutely amazing Episode Thirteen where we go all out, mano-a-alien, all over the country.
GWEN: Bring it on.
JACK: Quite.
3 EXT. FIELD. Next.
The gang are setting camp. Toshiko makes a sexual joke. Nobody laughs. Nobody watching, anyway.
GWEN: Let's play a game. Who did everyone snog last?
OWEN: Gwen. Don't you think that, by using the word "snog", you've undermined this programme's status as grown-up television, and made it even more chidlish than Doctor Who?
GWEN: Well, yes.
OWEN: As long as you know.
GWEN: Mine was Rhys, my amazing, wonderful, fun, forgiving, long-suffering awesome boyfriend of awesomeness.
JACK: Yeah. He's awesome.
The gang pause for a moment to think about Rhys and how amazing and lovely he is.
TOSHIKO: Mine was Owen. I still secretly fancy him. See? I have a personality.
JACK: Mine was the Doct-
GWEN: You're not allowed to talk about him in this show, Jack.
JACK: Soz. I just miss being all cool and having cool things to say and do. I get resurrected by BadWolf!Rose, and this is where I end up. Using the word "snog" in Brecon.
OWEN: Anyway ... Mine was Gwen.
TOSHIKO: OMG, WTF? When?
OWEN: When we were about to be killed by Ianto's freaky Cybergirlfriend.
IANTO: Mine was with Lisa.
Everyone goes quiet.
IANTO: You all forgot. Even though Owen was just talking about it. You all forgot about my freaky Cybergirlfriend!
Ianto cries.
GWEN: I'm going to the forest to avoid Ianto.
OWEN: I'm going with her to emotionally abuse her.
4 EXT. FOREST. Next.
GWEN and OWEN are walking.
GWEN: You shouldn't have told them.
OWEN: You were the one who started the game, you psycho.
GWEN: Yeah, well. You smell.
OWEN: And you have a rubbish sex life.
Gwen gives him a Chinese burn and spits in his eyes.
OWEN: Well, you do.
Gwen kicks him in the shins and fills his pants with fire ants.
OWEN: You want to have sex with me.
Gwen goes to kiss him because she's an absolute slag. There's not even an alien phermone/end of life excuse this time. She's just being a slag. Suddenly, they see a body without skin.
GWEN: That must be an alien. I mean, this is a sci-fi programme. It'd be rubbish if it wasn't an alien, wouldn't it?
OWEN: Yes. Yes it would.
5 EXT. CAMP SITE. Next.
The Torchwood car is driving around and smashing the tents, before disappearing into the distance. OWEN and GWEN arrive.
GWEN: Haunted car? Must be alien then.
JACK: Well, yes. It'd be rubbish if it was just some guy in our car.
OWEN: Yes. Yes it would.
6 EXT. VILLAGE. Later.
The gang have come to seek a place to stay.
JACK: We'd better split up.
IANTO: Why?
JACK: Because it's tricky to write for five characters at once.
IANTO: Is that why Gwen and Owen went into the forest?
JACK: Yes.
IANTO: And why we're the only ones talking, even though the others are here too?
JACK: Yes. Now, silence. You and Toshiko go look for the car.
IANTO: Why us?
JACK: Because you two haven't had a scene alone yet.
IANTO: Fair enough.
7 INT. PUB. Next.
JACK, OWEN and GWEN enter the pub. It's empty.
JACK: No locals?
GWEN: Maybe they've been killed.
JACK: Or maybe they're the killers.
GWEN: Possibly, but that'd be rubbish.
OWEN: Yes. Yes it would.
Gwen goes into the kitchen. She finds a body. She vomits for seventeen hours. There's a sound from outside, and Jack and Gwen run from the pub. With big guns.
8 EXT. VILLAGE. Next.
JACK and GWEN have the aforementioned big guns drawn.
GWEN: Nothing here. What do we do?
JACK: We'll go inside that house.
GWEN: Why?
JACK: The ceaseless march of the plot, Gwenhwyfar!
GWEN: "Gwen" isn't short for anything.
JACK: Yes it is.
9 INT. RANDOM POINTLESS HOUSE. Next.
JACK and GWEN burst in. The house is full of blood and guts. And now vomit, thank you very much, Gwen.
GWEN: This house is random.
JACK: Yes. And pointless.
GWEN: I wish I was at home with Rhys.
JACK: You say that, but you did almost kiss Owen, you slag.
GWEN: How do you even know that?
JACK: Slag.
GWEN: That doesn't-
JACK: Slag.
GWEN: Stop doing-
JACK: Slag.
Gwen sees another body.
GWEN: Whatever did this can't be human.
JACK: Of course not. That'd be rubbish.
OWEN enters.
OWEN: Yes. Yes it would.
OWEN leaves.
10 EXT. VILLAGE. Next.
IANTO and TOSHIKO are doing something vaguely sci-fi with a tracker, but the tracker is actually a prop from the first episode, so it doesn't count as a cool new toy. There's a sound. Toshiko runs one way, Ianto the other, all the way around the house. Suddenly, Toshiko sees something, and shoots. It's Ianto.
TOSHIKO: Schoolboy error.
IANTO: You're an idiot who can't act, Toshiko.
Ianto turns around.
IANTO: Now, I'll just look in this direction for a moment ... And now I'll turn back.
Toshiko is gone.
IANTO: OMG. On the plus side, this confirms that the killer is alien, since NO HUMAN BEING COULD SILENTLY APPROACH AND KIDNAP ANOTHER HUMAN BEING. Are you listening, Chibnall?
11 EXT. VILLAGE. Next.
GWEN and JACK try another door. Gwen gets shot. It isn't stupid Toshiko this time, though. It's a random character. I won't bore you with the details. Owen starts operating on Gwen.
JACK: I'm worried about Ianto and Tosh.
OWEN: They'll be fine.
RANDOM CHARACTER: So JACK is WORRIED, and OWEN thinks it's FINE.
OWEN: Yes. Why do you ask?
RANDOM CHARACTER: Keeping track of the plot. And by the way, they're probably dead.
JACK: They wouldn't kill off two main characters. Or even one, in fact. Except Susie, but with a name like Susie Costello, she was never going to last.
RANDOM CHARACTER: Anyway. The killer can't be human.
OWEN: Of course not. That'd be rubbish.
OWEN: Yes. Yes it would.
JACK: ... Why are you talking to yourself?
12 INT. CELLAR. Next.
IANTO and TOSHIKO are imprisoned.
IANTO: We're deep underground. We'll never get out.
TOSHIKO: There's never been a cell I couldn't get out of.
IANTO: Are they still trying to give you a personality?
TOSHIKO: Sort of.
IANTO: Doesn't work.
Suddenly, for LITERALLY NO REASON, Ianto is very angry.
IANTO: YOU ENJOY THIS, DON'T YOU?!
TOSHIKO: IT'S WORTH THE RISK TO PROTECT PEOPLE!!
IANTO: WHO PROTECTS US?!
TOSHIKO: WHY ARE WE SO ANGRY?!
IANTO: BECAUSE NOBODY'S BEEN ANGRY IN THIS EPISODE YET!!
TOSHIKO: I'm hungry.
She opens the fridge.
TOSHIKO: Shame. Nothing but feet.
13 INT. PUB. Night.
JACK, GWEN, OWEN and RANDOM CHARACTER are in the pub.
OWEN: I'm worried about Toshiko and Ianto.
JACK: They can take care of themselves.
RANDOM CHARACTER: Aha! So now OWEN is WORRIED and JACK thinks it's FINE!
JACK: Who are you, the continuity police?
RANDOM CHARACTER: Yes.
JACK: Oh.
GWEN: Anyway. Random Character's life is our main priority.
OWEN: How come?
GWEN: Because they don't kill off main characters.
JACK: Dude, I've died, like, four times.
Suddenly, there are people/aliens there. They take Random Character, of course.
JACK: We need to split up again! Two sets of two means twice the scenes. Owen, you go after Random Character.
OWEN: Why me?
JACK: Because you're a home-wrecking rapist.
OWEN: Fair enough.
14 INT. CELLAR. Next.
TOSHIKO and IANTO are bored. PSYCHO 2 enters.
PSYCHO 2: Hello. I'm a psy- I mean, a nurse.
IANTO: Liar.
PSYCHO 2: Yeah, well.
TOSHIKO: Here's a list of everyone who's here, their weaknesses, addresses and dental records.
PSYCHO 2: Thanks, dearie. Anyway, you're just in time for the harvest.
IANTO: That sounds cool and sci-fi-y.
PSYCHO 2: Trust me, it really isn't.
15 INT. PUB CELLAR. Next.
JACK meets an IDIOT.
JACK: Tell me what I need to know.
IDIOT: Get me help!
Jack punches him in the ear and cripples his nipples.
JACK: Tell me.
IDIOT: You don't know. HAHAHAHAHA!
Jack decimates his teeth and rips up all his receipts for the financial year.
JACK: Tell me.
IDIOT: Please. Stop!
Jack dislocates his thumbs and writes the word "gay" on his forehead.
IDIOT: I'll talk.
JACK: At last.
IDIOT: As long as I can do it in another scene.
JACK: Dammit.
16 EXT. ROAD. Next.
OWEN and GWEN meet a policeman named PSYCHO 3. Although when Gwen went after Owen, I can't recall.
PSYCHO 3: Let's skip the cryptic talking and go straight to me fooling you.
OWEN: Alright, but you'd better be an alien, and not just a psycho.
17 INT. PSYCHO HOUSE. Next.
PSYCHO 2 leads TOSHIKO and IANTO inside. She kisses PSYCHO 1, the psychoest psycho who ever did psycho. They have Random Character, obviously. There's a fight, PSYCHO 3, GWEN and OWEN turn up, it's all very tedious. JACK arrives in a tractor and shoots some pink bullets around, and at this point, even the director gives up trying to make this good.
18 INT. PSYCHO HOUSE. Later.
GWEN talks to PSYCHO 1.
GWEN: Why did you do it?
PSYCHO 1: I'll tell you in three more lines.
GWEN: What? Just tell me why.
PSYCHO 1: Will do. Just give me two more lines.
GWEN: Talk, you freak.
PSYCHO 1: One more.
GWEN: Why won't you answer me?
PSYCHO 1: Alright. Because it made me happy.
Gwen rips off his middle finger and inverts his navel.
GWEN: That's for trying and failing to be enigmatic.
She storms out. OWEN storms in. He splits Psycho 1's tounge with a scalpel and restricts the blood supply to his elbows.
OWEN: And that's for not being an alien.
19 INT. OWEN'S BEDROOM OF FILTH. Later.
OWEN and GWEN sleep together, like the rapist and slag (respectively) that they are.
GWEN: I had a bad day at work. Shame.
OWEN: But that's alright. Because you've had an adulterous relationship, ruined Rhys's life, made everyone at home lose all respect for you, wrecked any moral grounding this programme ever had, brough shame upon Doctor Who's good name, and actually managed to commit a crime even BIGGER than having no sci-fi in a sci-fi show.
GWEN: I suck.
OWEN: Yes. Yes you do.
THE END
Transcribed by Steffan H Alun
1 EXT. DARK LANE. Night.
A WOMAN is driving alone. She sees a body on the road. She gets out of the car, and takes a baseball bat, because she's clever. She then leaves the keys in the car and the door wide open. Did I say she was clever? I meant to say she's an absolute tool. She examines the body. It's not real. She goes back to the car, and the keys have gone. She tries locking the door, because she's an absolute tool. The doors are immediately unlocked again. Something enters the car. She dies. And she deserves this for being an absolute tool.
2 EXT. BRECON BEACONS. Morning.
JACK, GWEN, IANTO, OWEN and TOSHIKO are chillin'.
IANTO: Want a burger, Tosh?
TOSHIKO: NO!!!
IANTO: Why not?
TOSHIKO: Because the writers have realised they still haven't given me a personality. So now I hate burgers.
OWEN: Fortunately, I have a personality. I'm from London, so I hate grass.
IANTO: Makes sense.
JACK: Okay, guys. We're here because some people have died. Might be aliens, which would mean that the rift is spreading.
GWEN: Spreading? But that means ...
JACK: That's right. It means that bigger threats could get through, leading to an absolutely amazing Episode Thirteen where we go all out, mano-a-alien, all over the country.
GWEN: Bring it on.
JACK: Quite.
3 EXT. FIELD. Next.
The gang are setting camp. Toshiko makes a sexual joke. Nobody laughs. Nobody watching, anyway.
GWEN: Let's play a game. Who did everyone snog last?
OWEN: Gwen. Don't you think that, by using the word "snog", you've undermined this programme's status as grown-up television, and made it even more chidlish than Doctor Who?
GWEN: Well, yes.
OWEN: As long as you know.
GWEN: Mine was Rhys, my amazing, wonderful, fun, forgiving, long-suffering awesome boyfriend of awesomeness.
JACK: Yeah. He's awesome.
The gang pause for a moment to think about Rhys and how amazing and lovely he is.
TOSHIKO: Mine was Owen. I still secretly fancy him. See? I have a personality.
JACK: Mine was the Doct-
GWEN: You're not allowed to talk about him in this show, Jack.
JACK: Soz. I just miss being all cool and having cool things to say and do. I get resurrected by BadWolf!Rose, and this is where I end up. Using the word "snog" in Brecon.
OWEN: Anyway ... Mine was Gwen.
TOSHIKO: OMG, WTF? When?
OWEN: When we were about to be killed by Ianto's freaky Cybergirlfriend.
IANTO: Mine was with Lisa.
Everyone goes quiet.
IANTO: You all forgot. Even though Owen was just talking about it. You all forgot about my freaky Cybergirlfriend!
Ianto cries.
GWEN: I'm going to the forest to avoid Ianto.
OWEN: I'm going with her to emotionally abuse her.
4 EXT. FOREST. Next.
GWEN and OWEN are walking.
GWEN: You shouldn't have told them.
OWEN: You were the one who started the game, you psycho.
GWEN: Yeah, well. You smell.
OWEN: And you have a rubbish sex life.
Gwen gives him a Chinese burn and spits in his eyes.
OWEN: Well, you do.
Gwen kicks him in the shins and fills his pants with fire ants.
OWEN: You want to have sex with me.
Gwen goes to kiss him because she's an absolute slag. There's not even an alien phermone/end of life excuse this time. She's just being a slag. Suddenly, they see a body without skin.
GWEN: That must be an alien. I mean, this is a sci-fi programme. It'd be rubbish if it wasn't an alien, wouldn't it?
OWEN: Yes. Yes it would.
5 EXT. CAMP SITE. Next.
The Torchwood car is driving around and smashing the tents, before disappearing into the distance. OWEN and GWEN arrive.
GWEN: Haunted car? Must be alien then.
JACK: Well, yes. It'd be rubbish if it was just some guy in our car.
OWEN: Yes. Yes it would.
6 EXT. VILLAGE. Later.
The gang have come to seek a place to stay.
JACK: We'd better split up.
IANTO: Why?
JACK: Because it's tricky to write for five characters at once.
IANTO: Is that why Gwen and Owen went into the forest?
JACK: Yes.
IANTO: And why we're the only ones talking, even though the others are here too?
JACK: Yes. Now, silence. You and Toshiko go look for the car.
IANTO: Why us?
JACK: Because you two haven't had a scene alone yet.
IANTO: Fair enough.
7 INT. PUB. Next.
JACK, OWEN and GWEN enter the pub. It's empty.
JACK: No locals?
GWEN: Maybe they've been killed.
JACK: Or maybe they're the killers.
GWEN: Possibly, but that'd be rubbish.
OWEN: Yes. Yes it would.
Gwen goes into the kitchen. She finds a body. She vomits for seventeen hours. There's a sound from outside, and Jack and Gwen run from the pub. With big guns.
8 EXT. VILLAGE. Next.
JACK and GWEN have the aforementioned big guns drawn.
GWEN: Nothing here. What do we do?
JACK: We'll go inside that house.
GWEN: Why?
JACK: The ceaseless march of the plot, Gwenhwyfar!
GWEN: "Gwen" isn't short for anything.
JACK: Yes it is.
9 INT. RANDOM POINTLESS HOUSE. Next.
JACK and GWEN burst in. The house is full of blood and guts. And now vomit, thank you very much, Gwen.
GWEN: This house is random.
JACK: Yes. And pointless.
GWEN: I wish I was at home with Rhys.
JACK: You say that, but you did almost kiss Owen, you slag.
GWEN: How do you even know that?
JACK: Slag.
GWEN: That doesn't-
JACK: Slag.
GWEN: Stop doing-
JACK: Slag.
Gwen sees another body.
GWEN: Whatever did this can't be human.
JACK: Of course not. That'd be rubbish.
OWEN enters.
OWEN: Yes. Yes it would.
OWEN leaves.
10 EXT. VILLAGE. Next.
IANTO and TOSHIKO are doing something vaguely sci-fi with a tracker, but the tracker is actually a prop from the first episode, so it doesn't count as a cool new toy. There's a sound. Toshiko runs one way, Ianto the other, all the way around the house. Suddenly, Toshiko sees something, and shoots. It's Ianto.
TOSHIKO: Schoolboy error.
IANTO: You're an idiot who can't act, Toshiko.
Ianto turns around.
IANTO: Now, I'll just look in this direction for a moment ... And now I'll turn back.
Toshiko is gone.
IANTO: OMG. On the plus side, this confirms that the killer is alien, since NO HUMAN BEING COULD SILENTLY APPROACH AND KIDNAP ANOTHER HUMAN BEING. Are you listening, Chibnall?
11 EXT. VILLAGE. Next.
GWEN and JACK try another door. Gwen gets shot. It isn't stupid Toshiko this time, though. It's a random character. I won't bore you with the details. Owen starts operating on Gwen.
JACK: I'm worried about Ianto and Tosh.
OWEN: They'll be fine.
RANDOM CHARACTER: So JACK is WORRIED, and OWEN thinks it's FINE.
OWEN: Yes. Why do you ask?
RANDOM CHARACTER: Keeping track of the plot. And by the way, they're probably dead.
JACK: They wouldn't kill off two main characters. Or even one, in fact. Except Susie, but with a name like Susie Costello, she was never going to last.
RANDOM CHARACTER: Anyway. The killer can't be human.
OWEN: Of course not. That'd be rubbish.
OWEN: Yes. Yes it would.
JACK: ... Why are you talking to yourself?
12 INT. CELLAR. Next.
IANTO and TOSHIKO are imprisoned.
IANTO: We're deep underground. We'll never get out.
TOSHIKO: There's never been a cell I couldn't get out of.
IANTO: Are they still trying to give you a personality?
TOSHIKO: Sort of.
IANTO: Doesn't work.
Suddenly, for LITERALLY NO REASON, Ianto is very angry.
IANTO: YOU ENJOY THIS, DON'T YOU?!
TOSHIKO: IT'S WORTH THE RISK TO PROTECT PEOPLE!!
IANTO: WHO PROTECTS US?!
TOSHIKO: WHY ARE WE SO ANGRY?!
IANTO: BECAUSE NOBODY'S BEEN ANGRY IN THIS EPISODE YET!!
TOSHIKO: I'm hungry.
She opens the fridge.
TOSHIKO: Shame. Nothing but feet.
13 INT. PUB. Night.
JACK, GWEN, OWEN and RANDOM CHARACTER are in the pub.
OWEN: I'm worried about Toshiko and Ianto.
JACK: They can take care of themselves.
RANDOM CHARACTER: Aha! So now OWEN is WORRIED and JACK thinks it's FINE!
JACK: Who are you, the continuity police?
RANDOM CHARACTER: Yes.
JACK: Oh.
GWEN: Anyway. Random Character's life is our main priority.
OWEN: How come?
GWEN: Because they don't kill off main characters.
JACK: Dude, I've died, like, four times.
Suddenly, there are people/aliens there. They take Random Character, of course.
JACK: We need to split up again! Two sets of two means twice the scenes. Owen, you go after Random Character.
OWEN: Why me?
JACK: Because you're a home-wrecking rapist.
OWEN: Fair enough.
14 INT. CELLAR. Next.
TOSHIKO and IANTO are bored. PSYCHO 2 enters.
PSYCHO 2: Hello. I'm a psy- I mean, a nurse.
IANTO: Liar.
PSYCHO 2: Yeah, well.
TOSHIKO: Here's a list of everyone who's here, their weaknesses, addresses and dental records.
PSYCHO 2: Thanks, dearie. Anyway, you're just in time for the harvest.
IANTO: That sounds cool and sci-fi-y.
PSYCHO 2: Trust me, it really isn't.
15 INT. PUB CELLAR. Next.
JACK meets an IDIOT.
JACK: Tell me what I need to know.
IDIOT: Get me help!
Jack punches him in the ear and cripples his nipples.
JACK: Tell me.
IDIOT: You don't know. HAHAHAHAHA!
Jack decimates his teeth and rips up all his receipts for the financial year.
JACK: Tell me.
IDIOT: Please. Stop!
Jack dislocates his thumbs and writes the word "gay" on his forehead.
IDIOT: I'll talk.
JACK: At last.
IDIOT: As long as I can do it in another scene.
JACK: Dammit.
16 EXT. ROAD. Next.
OWEN and GWEN meet a policeman named PSYCHO 3. Although when Gwen went after Owen, I can't recall.
PSYCHO 3: Let's skip the cryptic talking and go straight to me fooling you.
OWEN: Alright, but you'd better be an alien, and not just a psycho.
17 INT. PSYCHO HOUSE. Next.
PSYCHO 2 leads TOSHIKO and IANTO inside. She kisses PSYCHO 1, the psychoest psycho who ever did psycho. They have Random Character, obviously. There's a fight, PSYCHO 3, GWEN and OWEN turn up, it's all very tedious. JACK arrives in a tractor and shoots some pink bullets around, and at this point, even the director gives up trying to make this good.
18 INT. PSYCHO HOUSE. Later.
GWEN talks to PSYCHO 1.
GWEN: Why did you do it?
PSYCHO 1: I'll tell you in three more lines.
GWEN: What? Just tell me why.
PSYCHO 1: Will do. Just give me two more lines.
GWEN: Talk, you freak.
PSYCHO 1: One more.
GWEN: Why won't you answer me?
PSYCHO 1: Alright. Because it made me happy.
Gwen rips off his middle finger and inverts his navel.
GWEN: That's for trying and failing to be enigmatic.
She storms out. OWEN storms in. He splits Psycho 1's tounge with a scalpel and restricts the blood supply to his elbows.
OWEN: And that's for not being an alien.
19 INT. OWEN'S BEDROOM OF FILTH. Later.
OWEN and GWEN sleep together, like the rapist and slag (respectively) that they are.
GWEN: I had a bad day at work. Shame.
OWEN: But that's alright. Because you've had an adulterous relationship, ruined Rhys's life, made everyone at home lose all respect for you, wrecked any moral grounding this programme ever had, brough shame upon Doctor Who's good name, and actually managed to commit a crime even BIGGER than having no sci-fi in a sci-fi show.
GWEN: I suck.
OWEN: Yes. Yes you do.
THE END
Thursday, 14 February 2008
Scribblers: One-Up Mushroom (Part One)
Scene the First. The Scribbler’s training room. Everyone is practising their powers, SHIFT growing back fingers/skin and suchlike by morphing back and forth with AMITY helping her. FINESSE is practising using CHRONAL’S powers to freeze time around both him and her.
CHRONAL
Okay, try again. Slowly this ti-
He’s cut off as the world freezes around him, showing everyone pulling those unflattering faces invisible to the naked eye that only cameras pick up usually. FINESSE is also frozen.
CHRONAL
Damn.
He unfreezes and everyone moves again, instantly assuming normal facial positions.
FINESSE
What? Again? For serious god, this is worse than trying to beat a Metroid game.
CHRONAL
I’ve beaten a Metroid game.
FINESSE
Yes. And you can control time. There’s a link, look.
WRAITH
Haha! Smellanor did it wrong again.
FINESSE
Shut up, Lames.
She uses her powers to cause LYRIC, who was in the middle of making a door appear and disappear in the wall, to make WRAITH’S trousers disappear. He quickly turns invisible.
WRAITH
I hate you, Smellanor.
AMITY
We should have filmed that! That would have been brilliant.
CHRONAL
I’ll let you work out what’s wrong with that, Amity.
AMITY
Really? What’s -
LYRIC
We don’t have a camera. We spent our government allowance on making the Trans-Jet ecologically friendly.
AMITY
But I have a camera on my phone. (Pause) Oh, and there’s one on my camera!
Everyone turns and looks at her.
FINESSE
You know, you could have saved us all an extra few seconds of life there by leaving out the entirely pointless middle information in that sentence.
AMITY
But-
FINESSE
“I have a camera” would have sufficed.
AMITY
I thought maybe it was a game.
SHIFT suddenly cheers, and raises both hands.
SHIFT
Yes! All ten fingers back!
LYRIC
I love having all ten fingers.
CHRONAL
Me too! It’s great.
Suddenly, a sound suspiciously like a TARDIS sounds across the room, and everyone looks at the police comm.-link. When no one moves, LYRIC sighs and stalks over, looking suave. LYRIC always looks suave.
LYRIC
I’ll get it, guys. Don’t worry. Wouldn’t want you all to strain something.
He picks up the comm.
CHRONAL
I’ll get it.
LYRIC ignores him.
AMITY
Anyway, Shift – are you healed enough to reproduce that message yet?
SHIFT
Nearly, not quite. I think I need my own skin back before I can make superfluous skin.
CHRONAL
Well, don’t rush it. We’d need to be back to fighting strength before we took on Sintaro, anyway.
SHIFT
Thank you. (Pause) I will rush it, though. I want my skin back.
LYRIC comes back over to the group, nearly tripping over WRAITH, who is still invisible and bare-legged like Robin.
LYRIC
Right. There’s some kind of robbery going on down by the docks, one of the electronics warehouses. The police reckon they’ve mostly got it covered, but there may be guns and hostages involved. They’d like a small degree of help.
CHRONAL
Alright, who wants to go and beat up gunmen, children?
Everyone puts up their hand.
CHRONAL
Shift, you’re still growing back skin. You’re staying here and working on that. In fact, Amity had better stay here for that, too.
SHIFT and AMITY put down their hands, looking disappointed.
FINESSE
Excellent! Then I’m definitely going or we’ll look like a sexist organisation.
CHRONAL
But-
FINESSE
I will sue.
CHRONAL
Oh. That would be rubbish. Um… Lyric and Wraith with you, then, and I’ll stay here.
FINESSE
Yes!
LYRIC
Captain Awesome.
WRAITH
I need trousers.
Scene the Next. LYRIC, FINESSE and WRAITH are standing behind a warehouse, looking furtive and cool, and in LYRIC’S case, suave. WRAITH has made two eye-sized balls of invisibility and is using them to look through the wall of the warehouse. Beside him, FINESSE has shamelessly stolen his powers to do the same. LYRIC just stands and looks suave. He has a visor.
WRAITH
They’ve all moved down the other end like losers. We should be okay to go in here.
LYRIC
Doorsarecooldoorsarewickilovedoorstheylooksoslick
A door appears in the wall, like some sort of regency England parlour room door. The Scribblers open it and slip inside, and LYRIC removes it before they continue.
FINESSE
Right. As long as we stay in the middle of the aisles, Wraith should be able to hide us. I think the hostages are down that end.
LYRIC
Lay on, McDuff.
WRAITH makes a big invisibility bubble and they walk down the warehouse toward the gunmen. There are five, and two hostages. There is also lots of big fancy electrical equipment. No one cares about this, however. Another gunman comes in from a back door.
GUNMAN #1
Is that everything? Is it all gone now?
GUNMAN#2
Yeah. I’m telling you, this guy’s good. He got all the gear right past the police and away, it was awesome.
GUNMAN#1
So what do we do with these two? Kill them or let them go?
The Scribblers step out of their invisi-bubble. The gunmen whirl around, guns up.
FINESSE
Don’t answer that. You may incriminate yourselves.
LYRIC mutters something, and all of the guns rust in the men’s hands. The one nearest him swings the weapon at him anyway, and LYRIC goes all terrifying karate ninja on his face (he’s won awards and everything.) Meanwhile, WRAITH and FINESSE go invisible again, and take out three others. LYRIC takes down the last two himself. He’s ‘ard and suave, see.
GUNMAN#2
I was going to say, “Let them go!”
FINESSE
Well see, you say that now. You are currently holding your teeth in your hands, though.
WRAITH
Yeah, good work there. Very anti-toothy.
LYRIC
Thank you.
FINESSE
Hang on…
She drags WRAITH’S invisi-bubble over the two of them – LYRIC is too far away.
SINISTER NEW GUY
Still fighting the good fight, Jomas?
A sinister new guy enters the building through the aforementioned back door. He’s all costumed up in a dark and brooding kind of emo way, like he’s a bad guy because no one understands him. Loser. LYRIC freezes, staring at him; FINESSE tenses up.
FINESSE
(Whispered to WRAITH) He’s got powers.
WRAITH
(Whispered back) I went to art school with people who looked like that.
LYRIC
What the crap are you doing here?
EMO NEW GUY
Ah. New life! I made it myself. Well… mostly myself. It pays rather excellently, though. Do you like my costume?
LYRIC
No.
EMO LOSER GUY
You never did like anything to do with me, Jomas.
LYRIC just Looks at him. EMO LOSER GUY withers slightly.
LYRIC
Quite. Now, since you apparently misunderstood the first time: what are you doing here? What actual activities have you just been doing?
EMO WHINY LOSER
Oh. You’ll find out soon enough. I’ve commandeered some equipment.
WRAITH
(Whisper) You know, it really wasn’t that cool when Johnny Depp said it.
LYRIC
For what?
EMO JOHNNY DEPP WANNABE
You’ll see, Jomas! Or rather, you won’t. You’ll just try and wreck my new life like you wrecked the old one. So… (His voice goes all echo-y and dark) And then Jomas had a serious heart attack.
LYRIC does that grasping at chest and collapsing thing people having heart attacks do. Amazingly, he still looks suave. FINESSE leaps forward out of the invisi-bubble like some sort of hysterical woman and kneels beside him.
FINESSE
No! We’ll get you help, hold on!
EMO JOM-HATER
Ha! No, you won’t, because it can’t be stopped now! There’s nothing you can do! Only I could save him; and I’m not going to!
FINESSE
How? Is it by saying something? What would you say?
GULLIBLE JOM-HATER
Oh, it’s simple! Just, “and then Jom stopped having a heart attack”, or words to that – wait! What just happened?
FINESSE
Owned.
LYRIC stops having a heart attack, although he still looks shaky. FINESSE grins her smuggest you-didn’t-look-past-my-hair-colour-and-chest-size look. The only gunman still able to stand does so, grabbing a hostage as he goes and starting to move back toward the door. The RUBBISH BAD GUY goes with them.
RUBBISH BAD GUY
It’s not over, Jomas! I don’t know what you just did, but it won’t work again! And then the Narrator and his henchman and hostage escaped, the door locking firmly behind them!
He grins maniacally for a few seconds, and then a still-invisible WRAITH clouts the henchman over the head with a pole. He falls unconscious, dropping the hostage. The NARRATOR (lame name) looks alarmed, and scurries the rest of the way to the door.
THE NARRATOR
You stopped my powers? But… how?
He positively flees the room, and FINESSE sighs.
FINESSE
Well. We badly needed any of the others to stop him escaping at the end there.
LYRIC
Sorry…can’t quite…talk yet…
FINESSE
Not your fault; your blood just stopped flowing.
WRAITH
Yeah, don’t worry. That guy still has no teeth, thanks to you. We’ll get this Narrator Hater later.
Scene the Next. After a lovely trip to a hospital in which many more adventures happen (to be chronicled at a later date), the Scribblers are back at HQ, talking over stuff.
LYRIC
So basically, they stole their equipment for their Presumably Evil Plan and the Narrator got away.
AMITY
Yeah, well, to be fair you had a major heart attack. That’s not exactly a minor setback. Who was this Narrator, anyway?
LYRIC
Someone I used to know.
SHIFT
How enigmatic.
CHRONAL comes over from the police comm.-link and rejoins the group.
CHRONAL
Okay, since none of us are scientists I won’t bother going through the list of what they stole, but there’s a lot of high-tech equipment now in their hands. I think we need to ask a professional about this.
SHIFT cheers in the corner.
SHIFT
Woohoo! No more burns!
FINESSE
We should ask Kayleigh. She’s…sciencey.
CHRONAL
Good idea!
He moves to the Giant Sixties Sci-Fi Videophone on the wall and phones Kayleigh. After a few seconds Kayleigh’s head and torso appears on the screen. She seems to be wearing a lab coat over some extremely hippyish flower covered clothes, and is holding a plant like a stereotype.
KAYLEIGH
Hello plantos.
SCRIBBLERS EN MASSE
Hello Kayleigh.
CHRONAL
Kayleigh, we need your help. Some bad guys rubbishly stole some equipment for a Presumably Evil Plan, but we don’t know what the equipment is, so we can’t work it out.
KAYLEIGH
You need a scientist on the team.
CHRONAL
Well, Kayleigh, I’m glad you mentioned that, because you, in fact, are one of these scientists we’ve heard so much about.
WRAITH
A winner is you.
CHRONAL
So I’m sending you the data. Have you got it yet?
KAYLEIGH
Hold on…
There’s a pause as she looks off-screen significantly at her computer. She raises her other hand, revealing a mug of tea. AMITY sighs.
AMITY
We should have tea. Lyric needs tea.
LYRIC
I Captain need tea.
SHIFT
I’ll go and make tea.
KAYLEIGH
Right. Looking over this… I think you can upgrade your Presumably Evil Plan to a Definitely Evil Plan.
FINESSE
Aww… That is exactly what I didn’t want you to say.
CHRONAL
It’s probably the worst news ever, really.
SHIFT
I know I can’t think of worse news. Here’s some tea.
AMITY
That’s much better news.
KAYLEIGH
Sorry everyone. Basically, these are mostly pieces of equipment for the cultivation and chemical extraction of a rare plant we created recently.
FINESSE
A plant you created?
KAYLEIGH
Yes, several generations of cross-breeding. The damn thing dies usually because it’s rubbish – even I can’t make it grow in the wild. If the conditions aren’t right, it doesn’t germinate.
CHRONAL
What’s special about it?
KAYLEIGH
Well, it’s still an experimental procedure, but the sap has mutagenic properties. If treated right it could give people super powers.
There is a brief silence.
CHRONAL
And that’s actually the worst news ever.
AMITY
Er… you said they mostly stole equipment to grow this plant and get the sap out. What else did they take?
KAYLEIGH
The stuff they need to turn the sap into a serum they can take.
CHRONAL
…I think I need some tea…
FINESSE
You hate tea.
CHRONAL
Nevertheless.
KAYLEIGH
Oh na. I broke Steff.
SHIFT
So, if this plant is really rare, how could they get hold of some?
KAYLEIGH
Actually… the only place is here. Could you people come here? They’ll probably attack us.
CHRONAL
We’re on our way.
Scene the Next. The Machynlleth Biochemical Research Centre. It’s in Machynlleth you know. The team are spread out about the complex in pairs; CHRONAL and FINESSE in some big control centre with lots of computers and security screens, AMITY and SHIFT in a big greenhouse bit with plants and LYRIC and WRAITH in an underground warehouse/back door kind of place. KAYLEIGH is in her lab, working on her plants. Everyone has tiny high-tech communicator ear pieces.
SHIFT
I think my skin’s almost all back, you know. I could try getting that message back.
AMITY
Are you sure? You don’t want to go rushing it.
SHIFT
No, I think it’s okay. Hopefully I won’t lose extra skin trying, anyway.
AMITY
Yes, let’s hope, eh?
WRAITH
I’m bored now. The bad guys should turn up.
CHRONAL
Still no sign, sorry. We’ll probably be here a while yet.
AMITY
We should play a game!
FINESSE
Oh, do let’s! What should we play?
AMITY
Splendid! How about the Shopkeeper game? I can buy a giraffe.
FINESSE
Can I buy a giraffe?
AMITY
Yes, if you wish.
FINESSE
Excellent!
KAYLEIGH
Can I buy a giraffe?
AMITY
No, I’m sorry.
KAYLEIGH
Northern bias.
Suddenly up in the control centre, CHRONAL freezes, staring at a screen.
CHRONAL
They’re here! They’re in the greenhouse, but I expect there’ll be more. Amity? Shift? Are you two okay alone?
SHIFT
Definitely.
A squad of Hired Goons moves up the greenhouse, trying to be quiet. Halfway up, most of those on the left side suddenly start to stumble and trip as they get sleepy. The rest look around, instantly alert, as SHIFT suddenly springs out at them as a polar bear and knocks several to one side. Polar Bears are scary. Most of the sleepy guys finally fall asleep and trip up some others in comic fashion; a group in front of SHIFT that were levelling guns at her suddenly get very scared from AMITY’S influence and try to run away. SHIFT merely lopes after them – polar bears are fast – and takes them out. She transforms back as the last few Hired Goons hit the floor.
SHIFT
You know, I’d feel sorry for them – but I just don’t.
AMITY
Go team!
SHIFT
Oh, and I can get that message finally!
AMITY
Splendid! Oh, wait. Some more Hired Goons.
Meanwhile, WRAITH and LYRIC run into another wave of Hired Goons in the basement. LYRIC goes all karate ninja on their faces while making their guns rust or disintegrate and their shoelaces come undone. WRAITH sneaks around invisible and decks lots of people.
Up in the control room, CHRONAL and FINESSE stare at one of the monitors.
FINESSE
They’re actually sending a third wave to the front door?
CHRONAL
Well, it’s…unexpected. I suppose they thought we wouldn’t think of guarding it, it’s too obvious.
FINESSE
Probably. Shall we?
CHRONAL
Certainly.
He freezes time around them, and they walk in a leisurely fashion down to the front entrance.
FINESSE
Stand in the shadows or burst out in front of them?
CHRONAL
I think bursting out in front of them. It makes for dramatic effect.
They do so, causing the wave of Hired Goons to leap back in alarm. Their fight is fairly non-descriptive; they both use CHRONAL’S power to slow time around them, effectively giving themselves super speed, and commence baddie bashing.
Meanwhile, in KAYLEIGH’S lab, the NARRATOR suddenly appears behind her in one of those creepily inexplicable ways that bad guys in horror films have. She doesn’t notice yet.
Down in the greenhouse, the fight finishes.
AMITY
Something’s not right here. No one tried to take any of the plants. I thought that was what they were after?
SHIFT
Er… we have a bigger problem. I just managed to reproduce that message.
In KAYLEIGH’S lab, the NARRATOR steps forward. KAYLEIGH turns, but before she can do anything he speaks.
NARRATOR
And then Kayleigh fell deeply asleep.
She does so. He mwahaha’s a bit.
SHIFT
Chronal? The message was about this very plan. The Narrator isn’t the main boss. It’s…MR. SINTARO!
End of Issue One.
********
So, it's really hard to write your friends' voices into fic. You've all become stereotypes, therefore. Deal. Anyway... as you may have guessed, this is indeed a direct sequel to Jester's rather magnificent beginning. If any of you artistic types want to make this into a proper comic, feel free, although you will have to adapt it somewhat as I was lazy and didn't write this in any style even remotely resembling a comic script.
CHRONAL
Okay, try again. Slowly this ti-
He’s cut off as the world freezes around him, showing everyone pulling those unflattering faces invisible to the naked eye that only cameras pick up usually. FINESSE is also frozen.
CHRONAL
Damn.
He unfreezes and everyone moves again, instantly assuming normal facial positions.
FINESSE
What? Again? For serious god, this is worse than trying to beat a Metroid game.
CHRONAL
I’ve beaten a Metroid game.
FINESSE
Yes. And you can control time. There’s a link, look.
WRAITH
Haha! Smellanor did it wrong again.
FINESSE
Shut up, Lames.
She uses her powers to cause LYRIC, who was in the middle of making a door appear and disappear in the wall, to make WRAITH’S trousers disappear. He quickly turns invisible.
WRAITH
I hate you, Smellanor.
AMITY
We should have filmed that! That would have been brilliant.
CHRONAL
I’ll let you work out what’s wrong with that, Amity.
AMITY
Really? What’s -
LYRIC
We don’t have a camera. We spent our government allowance on making the Trans-Jet ecologically friendly.
AMITY
But I have a camera on my phone. (Pause) Oh, and there’s one on my camera!
Everyone turns and looks at her.
FINESSE
You know, you could have saved us all an extra few seconds of life there by leaving out the entirely pointless middle information in that sentence.
AMITY
But-
FINESSE
“I have a camera” would have sufficed.
AMITY
I thought maybe it was a game.
SHIFT suddenly cheers, and raises both hands.
SHIFT
Yes! All ten fingers back!
LYRIC
I love having all ten fingers.
CHRONAL
Me too! It’s great.
Suddenly, a sound suspiciously like a TARDIS sounds across the room, and everyone looks at the police comm.-link. When no one moves, LYRIC sighs and stalks over, looking suave. LYRIC always looks suave.
LYRIC
I’ll get it, guys. Don’t worry. Wouldn’t want you all to strain something.
He picks up the comm.
CHRONAL
I’ll get it.
LYRIC ignores him.
AMITY
Anyway, Shift – are you healed enough to reproduce that message yet?
SHIFT
Nearly, not quite. I think I need my own skin back before I can make superfluous skin.
CHRONAL
Well, don’t rush it. We’d need to be back to fighting strength before we took on Sintaro, anyway.
SHIFT
Thank you. (Pause) I will rush it, though. I want my skin back.
LYRIC comes back over to the group, nearly tripping over WRAITH, who is still invisible and bare-legged like Robin.
LYRIC
Right. There’s some kind of robbery going on down by the docks, one of the electronics warehouses. The police reckon they’ve mostly got it covered, but there may be guns and hostages involved. They’d like a small degree of help.
CHRONAL
Alright, who wants to go and beat up gunmen, children?
Everyone puts up their hand.
CHRONAL
Shift, you’re still growing back skin. You’re staying here and working on that. In fact, Amity had better stay here for that, too.
SHIFT and AMITY put down their hands, looking disappointed.
FINESSE
Excellent! Then I’m definitely going or we’ll look like a sexist organisation.
CHRONAL
But-
FINESSE
I will sue.
CHRONAL
Oh. That would be rubbish. Um… Lyric and Wraith with you, then, and I’ll stay here.
FINESSE
Yes!
LYRIC
Captain Awesome.
WRAITH
I need trousers.
Scene the Next. LYRIC, FINESSE and WRAITH are standing behind a warehouse, looking furtive and cool, and in LYRIC’S case, suave. WRAITH has made two eye-sized balls of invisibility and is using them to look through the wall of the warehouse. Beside him, FINESSE has shamelessly stolen his powers to do the same. LYRIC just stands and looks suave. He has a visor.
WRAITH
They’ve all moved down the other end like losers. We should be okay to go in here.
LYRIC
Doorsarecooldoorsarewickilovedoorstheylooksoslick
A door appears in the wall, like some sort of regency England parlour room door. The Scribblers open it and slip inside, and LYRIC removes it before they continue.
FINESSE
Right. As long as we stay in the middle of the aisles, Wraith should be able to hide us. I think the hostages are down that end.
LYRIC
Lay on, McDuff.
WRAITH makes a big invisibility bubble and they walk down the warehouse toward the gunmen. There are five, and two hostages. There is also lots of big fancy electrical equipment. No one cares about this, however. Another gunman comes in from a back door.
GUNMAN #1
Is that everything? Is it all gone now?
GUNMAN#2
Yeah. I’m telling you, this guy’s good. He got all the gear right past the police and away, it was awesome.
GUNMAN#1
So what do we do with these two? Kill them or let them go?
The Scribblers step out of their invisi-bubble. The gunmen whirl around, guns up.
FINESSE
Don’t answer that. You may incriminate yourselves.
LYRIC mutters something, and all of the guns rust in the men’s hands. The one nearest him swings the weapon at him anyway, and LYRIC goes all terrifying karate ninja on his face (he’s won awards and everything.) Meanwhile, WRAITH and FINESSE go invisible again, and take out three others. LYRIC takes down the last two himself. He’s ‘ard and suave, see.
GUNMAN#2
I was going to say, “Let them go!”
FINESSE
Well see, you say that now. You are currently holding your teeth in your hands, though.
WRAITH
Yeah, good work there. Very anti-toothy.
LYRIC
Thank you.
FINESSE
Hang on…
She drags WRAITH’S invisi-bubble over the two of them – LYRIC is too far away.
SINISTER NEW GUY
Still fighting the good fight, Jomas?
A sinister new guy enters the building through the aforementioned back door. He’s all costumed up in a dark and brooding kind of emo way, like he’s a bad guy because no one understands him. Loser. LYRIC freezes, staring at him; FINESSE tenses up.
FINESSE
(Whispered to WRAITH) He’s got powers.
WRAITH
(Whispered back) I went to art school with people who looked like that.
LYRIC
What the crap are you doing here?
EMO NEW GUY
Ah. New life! I made it myself. Well… mostly myself. It pays rather excellently, though. Do you like my costume?
LYRIC
No.
EMO LOSER GUY
You never did like anything to do with me, Jomas.
LYRIC just Looks at him. EMO LOSER GUY withers slightly.
LYRIC
Quite. Now, since you apparently misunderstood the first time: what are you doing here? What actual activities have you just been doing?
EMO WHINY LOSER
Oh. You’ll find out soon enough. I’ve commandeered some equipment.
WRAITH
(Whisper) You know, it really wasn’t that cool when Johnny Depp said it.
LYRIC
For what?
EMO JOHNNY DEPP WANNABE
You’ll see, Jomas! Or rather, you won’t. You’ll just try and wreck my new life like you wrecked the old one. So… (His voice goes all echo-y and dark) And then Jomas had a serious heart attack.
LYRIC does that grasping at chest and collapsing thing people having heart attacks do. Amazingly, he still looks suave. FINESSE leaps forward out of the invisi-bubble like some sort of hysterical woman and kneels beside him.
FINESSE
No! We’ll get you help, hold on!
EMO JOM-HATER
Ha! No, you won’t, because it can’t be stopped now! There’s nothing you can do! Only I could save him; and I’m not going to!
FINESSE
How? Is it by saying something? What would you say?
GULLIBLE JOM-HATER
Oh, it’s simple! Just, “and then Jom stopped having a heart attack”, or words to that – wait! What just happened?
FINESSE
Owned.
LYRIC stops having a heart attack, although he still looks shaky. FINESSE grins her smuggest you-didn’t-look-past-my-hair-colour-and-chest-size look. The only gunman still able to stand does so, grabbing a hostage as he goes and starting to move back toward the door. The RUBBISH BAD GUY goes with them.
RUBBISH BAD GUY
It’s not over, Jomas! I don’t know what you just did, but it won’t work again! And then the Narrator and his henchman and hostage escaped, the door locking firmly behind them!
He grins maniacally for a few seconds, and then a still-invisible WRAITH clouts the henchman over the head with a pole. He falls unconscious, dropping the hostage. The NARRATOR (lame name) looks alarmed, and scurries the rest of the way to the door.
THE NARRATOR
You stopped my powers? But… how?
He positively flees the room, and FINESSE sighs.
FINESSE
Well. We badly needed any of the others to stop him escaping at the end there.
LYRIC
Sorry…can’t quite…talk yet…
FINESSE
Not your fault; your blood just stopped flowing.
WRAITH
Yeah, don’t worry. That guy still has no teeth, thanks to you. We’ll get this Narrator Hater later.
Scene the Next. After a lovely trip to a hospital in which many more adventures happen (to be chronicled at a later date), the Scribblers are back at HQ, talking over stuff.
LYRIC
So basically, they stole their equipment for their Presumably Evil Plan and the Narrator got away.
AMITY
Yeah, well, to be fair you had a major heart attack. That’s not exactly a minor setback. Who was this Narrator, anyway?
LYRIC
Someone I used to know.
SHIFT
How enigmatic.
CHRONAL comes over from the police comm.-link and rejoins the group.
CHRONAL
Okay, since none of us are scientists I won’t bother going through the list of what they stole, but there’s a lot of high-tech equipment now in their hands. I think we need to ask a professional about this.
SHIFT cheers in the corner.
SHIFT
Woohoo! No more burns!
FINESSE
We should ask Kayleigh. She’s…sciencey.
CHRONAL
Good idea!
He moves to the Giant Sixties Sci-Fi Videophone on the wall and phones Kayleigh. After a few seconds Kayleigh’s head and torso appears on the screen. She seems to be wearing a lab coat over some extremely hippyish flower covered clothes, and is holding a plant like a stereotype.
KAYLEIGH
Hello plantos.
SCRIBBLERS EN MASSE
Hello Kayleigh.
CHRONAL
Kayleigh, we need your help. Some bad guys rubbishly stole some equipment for a Presumably Evil Plan, but we don’t know what the equipment is, so we can’t work it out.
KAYLEIGH
You need a scientist on the team.
CHRONAL
Well, Kayleigh, I’m glad you mentioned that, because you, in fact, are one of these scientists we’ve heard so much about.
WRAITH
A winner is you.
CHRONAL
So I’m sending you the data. Have you got it yet?
KAYLEIGH
Hold on…
There’s a pause as she looks off-screen significantly at her computer. She raises her other hand, revealing a mug of tea. AMITY sighs.
AMITY
We should have tea. Lyric needs tea.
LYRIC
I Captain need tea.
SHIFT
I’ll go and make tea.
KAYLEIGH
Right. Looking over this… I think you can upgrade your Presumably Evil Plan to a Definitely Evil Plan.
FINESSE
Aww… That is exactly what I didn’t want you to say.
CHRONAL
It’s probably the worst news ever, really.
SHIFT
I know I can’t think of worse news. Here’s some tea.
AMITY
That’s much better news.
KAYLEIGH
Sorry everyone. Basically, these are mostly pieces of equipment for the cultivation and chemical extraction of a rare plant we created recently.
FINESSE
A plant you created?
KAYLEIGH
Yes, several generations of cross-breeding. The damn thing dies usually because it’s rubbish – even I can’t make it grow in the wild. If the conditions aren’t right, it doesn’t germinate.
CHRONAL
What’s special about it?
KAYLEIGH
Well, it’s still an experimental procedure, but the sap has mutagenic properties. If treated right it could give people super powers.
There is a brief silence.
CHRONAL
And that’s actually the worst news ever.
AMITY
Er… you said they mostly stole equipment to grow this plant and get the sap out. What else did they take?
KAYLEIGH
The stuff they need to turn the sap into a serum they can take.
CHRONAL
…I think I need some tea…
FINESSE
You hate tea.
CHRONAL
Nevertheless.
KAYLEIGH
Oh na. I broke Steff.
SHIFT
So, if this plant is really rare, how could they get hold of some?
KAYLEIGH
Actually… the only place is here. Could you people come here? They’ll probably attack us.
CHRONAL
We’re on our way.
Scene the Next. The Machynlleth Biochemical Research Centre. It’s in Machynlleth you know. The team are spread out about the complex in pairs; CHRONAL and FINESSE in some big control centre with lots of computers and security screens, AMITY and SHIFT in a big greenhouse bit with plants and LYRIC and WRAITH in an underground warehouse/back door kind of place. KAYLEIGH is in her lab, working on her plants. Everyone has tiny high-tech communicator ear pieces.
SHIFT
I think my skin’s almost all back, you know. I could try getting that message back.
AMITY
Are you sure? You don’t want to go rushing it.
SHIFT
No, I think it’s okay. Hopefully I won’t lose extra skin trying, anyway.
AMITY
Yes, let’s hope, eh?
WRAITH
I’m bored now. The bad guys should turn up.
CHRONAL
Still no sign, sorry. We’ll probably be here a while yet.
AMITY
We should play a game!
FINESSE
Oh, do let’s! What should we play?
AMITY
Splendid! How about the Shopkeeper game? I can buy a giraffe.
FINESSE
Can I buy a giraffe?
AMITY
Yes, if you wish.
FINESSE
Excellent!
KAYLEIGH
Can I buy a giraffe?
AMITY
No, I’m sorry.
KAYLEIGH
Northern bias.
Suddenly up in the control centre, CHRONAL freezes, staring at a screen.
CHRONAL
They’re here! They’re in the greenhouse, but I expect there’ll be more. Amity? Shift? Are you two okay alone?
SHIFT
Definitely.
A squad of Hired Goons moves up the greenhouse, trying to be quiet. Halfway up, most of those on the left side suddenly start to stumble and trip as they get sleepy. The rest look around, instantly alert, as SHIFT suddenly springs out at them as a polar bear and knocks several to one side. Polar Bears are scary. Most of the sleepy guys finally fall asleep and trip up some others in comic fashion; a group in front of SHIFT that were levelling guns at her suddenly get very scared from AMITY’S influence and try to run away. SHIFT merely lopes after them – polar bears are fast – and takes them out. She transforms back as the last few Hired Goons hit the floor.
SHIFT
You know, I’d feel sorry for them – but I just don’t.
AMITY
Go team!
SHIFT
Oh, and I can get that message finally!
AMITY
Splendid! Oh, wait. Some more Hired Goons.
Meanwhile, WRAITH and LYRIC run into another wave of Hired Goons in the basement. LYRIC goes all karate ninja on their faces while making their guns rust or disintegrate and their shoelaces come undone. WRAITH sneaks around invisible and decks lots of people.
Up in the control room, CHRONAL and FINESSE stare at one of the monitors.
FINESSE
They’re actually sending a third wave to the front door?
CHRONAL
Well, it’s…unexpected. I suppose they thought we wouldn’t think of guarding it, it’s too obvious.
FINESSE
Probably. Shall we?
CHRONAL
Certainly.
He freezes time around them, and they walk in a leisurely fashion down to the front entrance.
FINESSE
Stand in the shadows or burst out in front of them?
CHRONAL
I think bursting out in front of them. It makes for dramatic effect.
They do so, causing the wave of Hired Goons to leap back in alarm. Their fight is fairly non-descriptive; they both use CHRONAL’S power to slow time around them, effectively giving themselves super speed, and commence baddie bashing.
Meanwhile, in KAYLEIGH’S lab, the NARRATOR suddenly appears behind her in one of those creepily inexplicable ways that bad guys in horror films have. She doesn’t notice yet.
Down in the greenhouse, the fight finishes.
AMITY
Something’s not right here. No one tried to take any of the plants. I thought that was what they were after?
SHIFT
Er… we have a bigger problem. I just managed to reproduce that message.
In KAYLEIGH’S lab, the NARRATOR steps forward. KAYLEIGH turns, but before she can do anything he speaks.
NARRATOR
And then Kayleigh fell deeply asleep.
She does so. He mwahaha’s a bit.
SHIFT
Chronal? The message was about this very plan. The Narrator isn’t the main boss. It’s…MR. SINTARO!
End of Issue One.
********
So, it's really hard to write your friends' voices into fic. You've all become stereotypes, therefore. Deal. Anyway... as you may have guessed, this is indeed a direct sequel to Jester's rather magnificent beginning. If any of you artistic types want to make this into a proper comic, feel free, although you will have to adapt it somewhat as I was lazy and didn't write this in any style even remotely resembling a comic script.
Monday, 11 February 2008
Juncture
With an apologetic splutter the engine choked and guttered.
“No, no, no, no you don’t!” the driver groaned, tightening her grasp on the steering wheel and eyeing up the sinisterly glowing red engine-light.
With a finalistic cough, the engine gave up completely and fell silent.
“Shit,” she cursed, switching on her hazard lights and glancing down the road to see where she could pull over. The country road seemed to stretch interminably ahead of her, but just in sight was a big white ‘P’ on a bright blue background.
“Come on, come on! Just a little bit further,” she coaxed her gliding car, glancing at her rapidly declining speedometer. Closer and closer her car crawled, until it was within metres of the parking bay. Squeezing her eyes and leaning forward, she sent up a silent prayer, willing her car to make it, the speed reregistering at roughly 6mph.
“Yes!” she cried as her car just made it across the white lines before rocking to a stop. Her triumph flared briefly before she recollected the situation she was in.
“Screw it, where’s my phone?” she asked of herself, rummaging through her handbag. Getting a bit desperate she emptied the bag onto the passenger seat and searched the contents. Money; make-up; keys; receipts; pens; even a few mint Humbugs: but no phone.
“Phone, phone, phone,” she muttered, running her hands under the seats and along every pocket of the car she could find. An intrusive little memory of her phone sitting on the kitchen table rose gradually to the forefront of her mind.
“I can’t believe it!”
Taking her key out of the, now redundant, ignition, she stepped out of the door and surveyed the road around her. No public telephone in sight. Typical of the Mobile Age, she surmised.
She starts walking down the country road; it is a pleasant enough day for it and still not another vehicle in sight. After about ten minutes she comes to a crossroads without signposts. None of the routes seem to stand out to her as being especially likely to lead to a telephone.
To turn left, read the post entitled Juncture: Left.
To go straight on, read the post entitled: Juncture: Straight on.
To turn right, read the post entitled: Juncture: Right.
Paranoia.
She picks up a pack of scuff-edged playing cards and shuffles them. Glancing anxiously about the room, she shuffles them again.
Pauses. Listens. Nothing.
She sets the cards before her on the table. With the slightest of tremors in her hand, she picks the top card. It is old and stained and slippery to the touch. She turns it over.
Ace of Hearts.
She runs the edge of her thumb down the length of the card before flicking it away from her.
She picks the pack up once again and begins to sort the cards into four sets of matching suits. The activity makes her feel increasingly calm; the activity, the structure, the simple simplicity of it.
She finishes quickly. She begins to arrange the suits by order. She feels infinitely better.
“Perhaps now I can sleep?” she wonders.
This seems unlikely.
“To sleep, to sleep, to sleep,” she mutters to herself. She sees a figure approach and turns to address them.
There is no one there.
She shakes her head and blinks. Nothing. Nothing there. Or so she hopes. Or so she fears. Alone.
Footsteps pacing the room, which when she looks, the empty space falls silent. Taps on the glass, which when responded to, end in an open-fronted question mark.
Gradually she returns, the realisation sitting like a lead in the middle of her thoughts. Her vision too sharp; too clear. She sees too much of what is and what should be.
A spoon in a bag of sugar.
Oven gloves on the table.
And those cards with their scuffed, uneven edges.
She shuffles and picks another card.
Ace of Diamonds. Sharp, pointed rhomboid. Uneven shape.
Shuffles. Picks again.
Ace of Spades. Large, beautiful, symmetrical shape.
Turns the pack over; Ace of Diamonds.
She begins to feel a chill through her fingers and toes.
She begins to remember.
Her eyes close. She sleeps.
Pauses. Listens. Nothing.
She sets the cards before her on the table. With the slightest of tremors in her hand, she picks the top card. It is old and stained and slippery to the touch. She turns it over.
Ace of Hearts.
She runs the edge of her thumb down the length of the card before flicking it away from her.
She picks the pack up once again and begins to sort the cards into four sets of matching suits. The activity makes her feel increasingly calm; the activity, the structure, the simple simplicity of it.
She finishes quickly. She begins to arrange the suits by order. She feels infinitely better.
“Perhaps now I can sleep?” she wonders.
This seems unlikely.
“To sleep, to sleep, to sleep,” she mutters to herself. She sees a figure approach and turns to address them.
There is no one there.
She shakes her head and blinks. Nothing. Nothing there. Or so she hopes. Or so she fears. Alone.
Footsteps pacing the room, which when she looks, the empty space falls silent. Taps on the glass, which when responded to, end in an open-fronted question mark.
Gradually she returns, the realisation sitting like a lead in the middle of her thoughts. Her vision too sharp; too clear. She sees too much of what is and what should be.
A spoon in a bag of sugar.
Oven gloves on the table.
And those cards with their scuffed, uneven edges.
She shuffles and picks another card.
Ace of Diamonds. Sharp, pointed rhomboid. Uneven shape.
Shuffles. Picks again.
Ace of Spades. Large, beautiful, symmetrical shape.
Turns the pack over; Ace of Diamonds.
She begins to feel a chill through her fingers and toes.
She begins to remember.
Her eyes close. She sleeps.
Do not pity me
One day, whilst I was dreaming,
About to wake, or so ‘twas seeming,
I read a poem in my mind,
Which once awake, I could not find
In textbook or collected anthology.
So without adieu or an apology,
I took up pen and began to write,
The paltry verse within your sight…
Do not pity me when I am gone,
For I know what is to come.
I have seen the door and through
Into the place beyond.
It is a place in the twilight,
A dreamscape, remembered only in glimpses.
So do not fear, my friend,
but come to accept, like I have,
that this thing must be done.
About to wake, or so ‘twas seeming,
I read a poem in my mind,
Which once awake, I could not find
In textbook or collected anthology.
So without adieu or an apology,
I took up pen and began to write,
The paltry verse within your sight…
Do not pity me when I am gone,
For I know what is to come.
I have seen the door and through
Into the place beyond.
It is a place in the twilight,
A dreamscape, remembered only in glimpses.
So do not fear, my friend,
but come to accept, like I have,
that this thing must be done.
Thursday, 31 January 2008
Chance
It was on a gloomy day in December that I first heard the Story. We were celebrating Santa Lucia and had just eaten slightly more than you would at the average Christmas dinner. In other words, we were stuffed, with little extra energy to do much more than sit ourselves around our wood burner and talk. It was blowing cold outside, whistling through our poorly-fitted windows and occasionally causing the fire to roar and flare suddenly. Our chairs were threadbare and uneven, but we made ourselves as comfortable as we could.
But all this is background detail. How the Story came to be told began something like this.
But all this is background detail. How the Story came to be told began something like this.
***
“Well, I must say, that food was marvellous!”
The company all agreed this was the case, although one looked slightly pensive. There was a lull and then she broke from her reverie and began thus.
“Santa Lucia.”
The company gazed over at her with polite enquiry.
“Saint Lucy, Patron Saint of the Blind. December 13th.”
Continued politeness. Slight bewilderment.
“For a long time it was considered the longest, therefore the darkest, night.”
As above.
“It was the same day last year that I was told the Story. I later considered this appropriate.”
One of us replied, “Well, it’s the perfect time for a story. We are full, warm and comfortable.”
The company all paused to consider this and mentally amended the last with the adverb ‘reasonably.’
“I will tell you the Story. But I warn you that a story can never be untold. Are you ready to listen?”
She fixed her eyes upon the company, lit as if by some unearthly gleam. We sat transfixed and drawn inwards, watching, waiting for the Story to begin.
The company all agreed this was the case, although one looked slightly pensive. There was a lull and then she broke from her reverie and began thus.
“Santa Lucia.”
The company gazed over at her with polite enquiry.
“Saint Lucy, Patron Saint of the Blind. December 13th.”
Continued politeness. Slight bewilderment.
“For a long time it was considered the longest, therefore the darkest, night.”
As above.
“It was the same day last year that I was told the Story. I later considered this appropriate.”
One of us replied, “Well, it’s the perfect time for a story. We are full, warm and comfortable.”
The company all paused to consider this and mentally amended the last with the adverb ‘reasonably.’
“I will tell you the Story. But I warn you that a story can never be untold. Are you ready to listen?”
She fixed her eyes upon the company, lit as if by some unearthly gleam. We sat transfixed and drawn inwards, watching, waiting for the Story to begin.
***
“Amongst an Unknown People, in an Unknown Place, there is the Temple of Chance. It was said amongst those people that the Temple contains all the power of the Universe, but that it is locked, hidden, secret. One day there will come a person who will unlock, expose and learn all that the Temple can teach. Many people entered the Temple and were never seen or heard from again. This did not deter more people from going.
“A young woman once decided to enter the Temple. She went to try and find her brother, who had gone to the Temple some years ago. She learnt that you can only know the Temple if you agree to join in the Game of Chance. A soul-binding contract that needs nothing more than the willingness to listen to fix its seal.”
“A young woman once decided to enter the Temple. She went to try and find her brother, who had gone to the Temple some years ago. She learnt that you can only know the Temple if you agree to join in the Game of Chance. A soul-binding contract that needs nothing more than the willingness to listen to fix its seal.”
***
“Are you ready to listen?”
***
The stone door stood before her, requiring nothing more than her presence to open. She hovered on the brink, momentarily suspended between Being and Not Being. She stepped forward. The door immediately dissolved into smoke, which curled outwards from a dense and unrevealing blackness. She entered the Temple.
Her footsteps made nothing more than the slightest patter in the absolute silence. The undefined space felt both bewilderingly large and repressively tiny. The floor felt strange, almost rubbery under her feet, but she dared not touch it with her bare-skinned fingers. She felt also that this was not a place to linger, but to go on and to keep going until she finds a place to which she can go.
After a measureless time, she sees a light, dim and red and far away. She begins to run, her feet springing lightly off the floor. She thinks nothing, sees nothing except for the light.
As she gets closer she begins to see other shapes moving amongst the light. She slows her pace and adjusts her eyes to absorb the scene before her.
There are hundreds of people here and they are all drifting amongst the light. There seems nothing more than random patterning in the way that they clump together and then break apart again. The light seems ambient, but there is no discernable source. She looks to the floor and sees many small red dots in the middle of many black squares, outlined by edges of an emptier, truer darkness. There seem to be walls here too and these are also covered in black squares with red dots, glowing dimly in the centre.
“What is this place?” she wonders.
“This is the Game of Chance,” one of the figures replies, its dull, grey eyes fixed shrewdly on her. “Are you playing?”
“How…?” she begins to think, when the speaker suddenly leaps onto one of the black squares and disappears through it, as though there was nothing but air.
There is a rush of commotion as all the people begin to move at once, passing through the squares and on to the other side. She could not be alone again. She jumped onto one of the squares and passed through.
When she emerged again she found on her wrist a bright, red light, like a brilliant, blazing jewel. A red line, like a bracelet, was traced all round her wrist, joining at the central point of the light. She regarded her wrist momentarily, but her mind seemed in a terrible confusion. She could not remember what had happened on the other side, but that something in the back of her mind was screaming for her attention. All other thoughts were driven out by the one over-riding, all-consuming knowledge that she must play another round of Chance.
Her footsteps made nothing more than the slightest patter in the absolute silence. The undefined space felt both bewilderingly large and repressively tiny. The floor felt strange, almost rubbery under her feet, but she dared not touch it with her bare-skinned fingers. She felt also that this was not a place to linger, but to go on and to keep going until she finds a place to which she can go.
After a measureless time, she sees a light, dim and red and far away. She begins to run, her feet springing lightly off the floor. She thinks nothing, sees nothing except for the light.
As she gets closer she begins to see other shapes moving amongst the light. She slows her pace and adjusts her eyes to absorb the scene before her.
There are hundreds of people here and they are all drifting amongst the light. There seems nothing more than random patterning in the way that they clump together and then break apart again. The light seems ambient, but there is no discernable source. She looks to the floor and sees many small red dots in the middle of many black squares, outlined by edges of an emptier, truer darkness. There seem to be walls here too and these are also covered in black squares with red dots, glowing dimly in the centre.
“What is this place?” she wonders.
“This is the Game of Chance,” one of the figures replies, its dull, grey eyes fixed shrewdly on her. “Are you playing?”
“How…?” she begins to think, when the speaker suddenly leaps onto one of the black squares and disappears through it, as though there was nothing but air.
There is a rush of commotion as all the people begin to move at once, passing through the squares and on to the other side. She could not be alone again. She jumped onto one of the squares and passed through.
When she emerged again she found on her wrist a bright, red light, like a brilliant, blazing jewel. A red line, like a bracelet, was traced all round her wrist, joining at the central point of the light. She regarded her wrist momentarily, but her mind seemed in a terrible confusion. She could not remember what had happened on the other side, but that something in the back of her mind was screaming for her attention. All other thoughts were driven out by the one over-riding, all-consuming knowledge that she must play another round of Chance.
***
“But what happens? What is the Game of Chance?” one of the company interrupted at this point.
Our storyteller paused.
“Once you are playing the Game, you will know. When you see such a doorway, try stepping through it.”
“I don’t think I’m likely to, do you?” the interrupter replied anxiously.
The Storyteller looked distant for a moment and softly murmured beneath her breath, “To sleep, perchance to dream.”
At which point, the Story continued.
Our storyteller paused.
“Once you are playing the Game, you will know. When you see such a doorway, try stepping through it.”
“I don’t think I’m likely to, do you?” the interrupter replied anxiously.
The Storyteller looked distant for a moment and softly murmured beneath her breath, “To sleep, perchance to dream.”
At which point, the Story continued.
***
She had been playing Chance a long time. Her arms were covered in glistening red circles, but she knew she needed more.
“Where have they all gone?” she thought irritably, almost aggressively inside her mind.
The many squares were no longer lit by red dots, but had taken on a smooth, glassy surface.
“Where are they?” she demanded of herself.
She was so consumed by searching for the red lights that it took her much longer to notice that she was now alone.
“Where?” she said aloud, approaching one of the walls, which had once been chequered by the red orbs. She looked on the wall and saw a person there, through the glassy surface.
“Are you all there, on the other side?” she asked, realising, without much regret, that she was the only one left.
She looked closer at the surface, the deceiving brightness of them.
“Mirrors!” she exclaimed, with as much irritation as surprise, “They are all mirrors!”
She swung at them wildly, shattering the glass, but leaving the fragments suspended, reflecting thousands of images of her angry face.
“But I need another round of Chance!” she screamed at the faces, before turning to stalk amongst the walls and floors, searching for more Games.
She came to a corner between two walls, whose mirrored surface reflected not herself, but an unknown figure. It was a tall, grey-bearded man, who beckoned for her to approach.
“You have completed the Game of Chance,” the man intoned heavily, “But there is one more stage before the end.”
She approached the glass and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to pass through it and join him on the other side.
“Now the testing begins,” he said, before leading her into a small, circular room. There were two chairs at a small, stone table. They sat opposed.
“There are three questions.”
She felt restless. It had been a long time since her last round of Chance.
“First: Which of these is safe to eat?”
The man presented her with a tray of oddly assorted shapes. She didn’t have time for this. She needed more Chance. She picked one at random.
“Second: Which one of these is safe to drink?”
Another tray; this time with different coloured fluids. She picked the red one.
“Third: Draw me what you are thinking.”
She was passed a pen and paper. She knew she must draw Chance. Automatically, her hand began to trace line after line across the paper, like a manic scribble, but with incisive precision. She handed it back.
“Scars,” the man murmured as if to himself. He withdrew another piece of paper and compared them. The image depicted was the same, but whilst one paper still glistened with wet ink, the other was pocked with the marks of extreme age.
“You may now pass through the Temple of Chance.”
And so she did. And she saw the Temple’s secret. She saw the Game of Chance and the other side.
She remembered and she was in agony. The great open blackness, the overwhelming pressure of despair. She could see every person as a glowing red light that flutters and is then extinguished, leaving nothing but a mark like a circle. She remembered why she had come to the Temple and that she had found her brother in the very first round of Chance. She knew now why she must keep playing, because that way she would not have to be in a world where she had the capacity to remember that first round and the spirit of her brother burning, scarring into her flesh. And with a low-pitched moan, she used the power she had gained and used it to forget.
But guilt must be accounted for somehow and the Furies must have their blood. On the darkest night of the year she must remember and disperse her guilt afresh amongst any who agree to listen. For any who would agree to take her place and join in the Game of Chance.
“Where have they all gone?” she thought irritably, almost aggressively inside her mind.
The many squares were no longer lit by red dots, but had taken on a smooth, glassy surface.
“Where are they?” she demanded of herself.
She was so consumed by searching for the red lights that it took her much longer to notice that she was now alone.
“Where?” she said aloud, approaching one of the walls, which had once been chequered by the red orbs. She looked on the wall and saw a person there, through the glassy surface.
“Are you all there, on the other side?” she asked, realising, without much regret, that she was the only one left.
She looked closer at the surface, the deceiving brightness of them.
“Mirrors!” she exclaimed, with as much irritation as surprise, “They are all mirrors!”
She swung at them wildly, shattering the glass, but leaving the fragments suspended, reflecting thousands of images of her angry face.
“But I need another round of Chance!” she screamed at the faces, before turning to stalk amongst the walls and floors, searching for more Games.
She came to a corner between two walls, whose mirrored surface reflected not herself, but an unknown figure. It was a tall, grey-bearded man, who beckoned for her to approach.
“You have completed the Game of Chance,” the man intoned heavily, “But there is one more stage before the end.”
She approached the glass and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to pass through it and join him on the other side.
“Now the testing begins,” he said, before leading her into a small, circular room. There were two chairs at a small, stone table. They sat opposed.
“There are three questions.”
She felt restless. It had been a long time since her last round of Chance.
“First: Which of these is safe to eat?”
The man presented her with a tray of oddly assorted shapes. She didn’t have time for this. She needed more Chance. She picked one at random.
“Second: Which one of these is safe to drink?”
Another tray; this time with different coloured fluids. She picked the red one.
“Third: Draw me what you are thinking.”
She was passed a pen and paper. She knew she must draw Chance. Automatically, her hand began to trace line after line across the paper, like a manic scribble, but with incisive precision. She handed it back.
“Scars,” the man murmured as if to himself. He withdrew another piece of paper and compared them. The image depicted was the same, but whilst one paper still glistened with wet ink, the other was pocked with the marks of extreme age.
“You may now pass through the Temple of Chance.”
And so she did. And she saw the Temple’s secret. She saw the Game of Chance and the other side.
She remembered and she was in agony. The great open blackness, the overwhelming pressure of despair. She could see every person as a glowing red light that flutters and is then extinguished, leaving nothing but a mark like a circle. She remembered why she had come to the Temple and that she had found her brother in the very first round of Chance. She knew now why she must keep playing, because that way she would not have to be in a world where she had the capacity to remember that first round and the spirit of her brother burning, scarring into her flesh. And with a low-pitched moan, she used the power she had gained and used it to forget.
But guilt must be accounted for somehow and the Furies must have their blood. On the darkest night of the year she must remember and disperse her guilt afresh amongst any who agree to listen. For any who would agree to take her place and join in the Game of Chance.
***
And thus the story ended and the whole company began to move again, as if suddenly released. There was a sort of communal bemusement about the group, as we looked amongst each other and seemed not to know what had passed. I was first to notice the absence of the Storyteller.
“Where did she go?”
“Who go?” one of the company asked me, looking slightly puzzled.
“The girl, the one who was sitting right there,” I replied, indicating an empty seat.
“There’s no-one been sat there,” I heard the reply, “you must have been dozing. It does happen after so wonderful a meal!”
And thus the company did not want to hear anymore of Storytellers or Storytelling. But I got cautiously from my seat and walked to the chair, from which I had learnt the Story. And I touched the seat with my fingers. And I can honestly say that never before or since has the sensation of warmth left me with such a sense of chill.
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