It's reasonably quiet. Just a few customers, and more tellers than are really necessary. A young man approaches one of the free ones. The teller is not really concentrating on his surroundings; his mind is clouded with thoughts of food and the vaguely attractive teller across the way.
MAN: Wake up, son.
The teller looks at the young man, startled. There is a gun pointed at his torso through the handy gap in the bulletproof glass.
MAN: No security, police, alarms or anything, okay? Now start filling this.
A sack is presented to the teller.
TELLER: You... you really shouldn't have... we have our own for just such occasions...
The teller takes the bag and starts filling it with money. The robber turns away, pulling another shotgun with which to keep the other occupants of the lobby under control. The robber is undisguised, and easily distinguishable by a sizeable mark on one side of his face. He wears cheap army surplus camouflage trousers - scant disguise in the urban jungle - a jacket which looks slightly classier than a converted sack, a very old bandana, army surplus boots, a shabby t-shirt and some ammo. He is Plasma Snake.
PLASMA: And none of you others try anything either. Just lie down on the ground, okay? Face down. Slide any weapons over to me. And you'd better stay on the ground for twenty minutes after I leave. If you're lucky, I'll come back and check on you. And just so's you know, anyone who calls the authorities over this little incident is a dead man. Um...
A look of uncertainty suddenly crosses his face. He lowers the guns listlessly.
PLASMA: No... oh, god... no...
The customers and security guards watch him, concerned.
PLASMA: No. This isn't me. Sorry. I can't... just... oh, just forget it, will you?
Without warning, he dashes from the building. Within seconds there is nothing left but the dying echoes of his footsteps.
CUSTOMER: Um... do we... do you suppose we still have to stay on the floor?
There is a small explosion and the teller is coated in blue paint.
SCENE 2:One of the roads leading into town. Day.
There is no traffic. The sun shines brightly. Two figures trudge along the road. They have been trudging for some time. Their names? Why, Mechninja and Sniper Wolf. Today they have foregone their terrorist uniforms for more casual garb. They drag a vast amount of luggage behind them. They are tired and irritable.
MECHNINJA: I can't believe *nobody* gave us a lift.
WOLF: You have poor hitchhiking technique.
MECHNINJA: ME? Who was the one trying to get people's attention by opening fire on their cars?
WOLF: Those were just warning shots. I had no intention of hitting them.
MECHNINJA: And why did you have to choose today to start dressing sensibly?
WOLF: Oh, shut up. Anyway, look, are you happy? We're almost at that dump you call home.
MECHNINJA: That dump *we* call home from now on.
WOLF: We were perfectly happy back in Alaska.
MECHNINJA: We were living in a derelict nuclear base! It's a wonder I didn't grow a third kidney.
WOLF: Yes. How eagerly I look forward to spending the next indefinite length of time living in your abandoned dry-claning dump.
MECHNINJA: Oh, grow up.
Unexpectedly, a truck speeds past them. Startled, Wolf runs to the bags and starts unpacking a tripod, but the truck is far away by now. Mechninja watches it recede.
MECHNINJA: Hey!
SCENE 3:A dingy flat, sparsely furnished.
This is Plasma's abode. The time of day is uncertain. Plasma sits on a stool, jabbering.
PLASMA: This won't do... knocking over banks, arson, parking offences... what am I doing? This is no way to live up to your legacy! I have to... I have to become a contender... somehow...
He reaches out and carefully unlocks and opens a drawer in his desk. In it lies an old picture of an old man with an eyepatch...
PLASMA: Won't you guide me, Big Boss? Show me the way, somehow?
He takes the picture from the drawer and stares at it sadly. Then he takes another picture from the drawer. This one shows Big Boss's cryogenically frozen corpse. The location is unclear, and by what sources Plasma obtained the photo is a mystery.
PLASMA: No. Of course you can't. You can't help any of us any more. But I'll do it all the same. For your sake. For the sake of Outer Heaven. Yes!
Inspired, he hurriedly locks the pictures back in the drawer and grabs the Yellow Pages; searching.
PLASMA: Now... publicists... publicists...
SCENE 4:Mechninja's dry-cleaning shop. Day.
The terrorists have arrived. Mech dumps his stuff on the counter.
MECHNINJA: Ah, it's good to be back! For the first time in so many months I feel at home...
WOLF: Speak for yourself.
MECHNINJA: Don't you worry. You'll soon get used to it. And we'll be back in business before you can find a rhyme for potato. Sure, it may not exactly be international terrorism to begin with, but all you've got to do is climb the ladder. Now, you relax for a minute while I start rekindling those old contacts.
He reaches behind the counter, produces a phone and dials.
MECHNINJA: ...beep, beep, yes, come on, come on... ah! Hey, Vittorio, long time no see! ...What? ...Well, would you mind telling me what you're doing in his office? ...What..? ...DEAD!? You're kidding me! ...Did he by any chance leave me any money? ... (slams phone down) God damn it!
WOLF: Well?
MECHNINJA: Uh... (with carefully calculated smoothness) everything's fine.
WOLF: Are we back in the loop?
MECHNINJA: As near as makes no difference.
WOLF: Fine. I'm going to unpack. Where's my room?
MECHNINJA: Uh, in the back, next to the boiler cupboard. Don't worry about the sign; I'm told the risk of asbestosis is relatively low.
Wolf ventures further into the building. Mech thinks for a while, and then dials again.
MECHNINJA: Carlos! How've you..? ...yes..? ...Prison!? Oh, for christ's sake! Look, who are you, then? ...Oh, you'll do. Who's in charge of organised crime here at the minute? Come on, help me out here. I don't want to have to call those bastard Johnsons. ...Right? Are you sure about that? ...Really? Could you please be more sure than that? ...Great! Thanks very much. (hangs up)
Wolf enters again, curious despite herself.
WOLF: What was that all about?
MECHNINJA: There's, uh, well, there's been a change of plan. The Mafia, Triads et ad nunc omnes have all vanished from this area for some reason. So we're just going to take over the city. Sounds reasonable?
WOLF: Whatever. Does this place even have a bathroom?
MECHNINJA: Of sorts.
WOLF:(shudders)
SCENE 5:The comic book HQ. Day.
Another average day. Less work than usual is going on, however, as Rabid Chocobo has gone to the shops. Jim and Viper are on the PlayStation and Yud is trying out Chocobo's desk for size. It is not clear where anybody else is. They may still be asleep. Yud is startled from his reverie when the door opens.
YUD: Damn! Uh, I was just testing the chair for woodworm... oh.
He realises that it is not Chocobo, but Plasma.
YUD: Who are you?
PLASMA: I am the one true heir of Big Boss, the enemy of Solid Snake and the government, and future leader of Outer Heaven. I am known to some as al Salah eh Din. Others know me as Plasma Snake. Then there are those that call me prisoner #23143. What does it matter? Call me what you will.
YUD: Okay, uh, Al... what can I do for you?
PLASMA: Well, you work in the media, don't you, Ms Choco?
YUD: Um... no, that isn't my name there. (knocks name sign onto the floor) That's my, uh, my secretary. Anyway, you could say we work in the media, I suppose...
PLASMA: Let me explain myself. I am working to one end; to whit, that the world should be in a permanent state of conflict with myself as a sinister puppet-master at the helm of it all. Friend will fight friend. Brother will fight brother. And in a time of conflict, the mercenary will rise once more. I, Plasma Snake, will be the one that commands them all, from my impenetrable fortress... Outer Heaven!
YUD: ...rrrrright.
PLASMA: So... you see my dilemma?
YUD: I see *a* dilemma...
PLASMA: Exactly. How can I expect to be taken seriously as the greatest enemy of society as we know it when nobody's ever even heard of me?
YUD: Right. So you... you need some sort of...
PLASMA: A publicist! Exactly!
YUD: So why didn't you *go* to a...
PLASMA: Oh, I went to them all! I went to a literary agent; she told me their addresses. But they just laughed in my face.
YUD: My, how rude.
PLASMA: Yes. They were faced with the future, and were too stupid to grasp it. They will be amongst the first to go when my revolution comes.
YUD: So then what?
PLASMA: I went back to the agent. She had no more ideas, and I was starting to get angry again, when bam! Out of the blue, she said she'd remembered another publicist! She gave me your address.
YUD: Wow. That's... a good agent. One that I would *never* consider going and hurting...
PLASMA: So, I figured, this has to be fate, right? The last publicist in town. The one with the lowest prices and the lowest standards. This could be a real big break for both of us, right?
YUD: Right. How?
PLASMA: Consider it. Help me out, and you're set for life. You'll have a pretty high seat in the new world order. Laugh at me, and when I prove my worth to Saladin, you will be amongst the first to suffer.
YUD: I see...
Yud grins. This is his chance to do some serious mocking with absolutely no fear of revenge.
YUD: You're... heh... a bit of an odd one, aren't you, Plasma?
PLASMA: What do you mean?
YUD: A bit... hee hee. A bit of a character.
PLASMA: A what?
YUD: A character. You know. Eccentric? Maybe even just a tad... loopy? Aheheh.
PLASMA: A character? Could you get to the point?
YUD: The point? Oh, no point really. I was just struck with the fact that you are without a shadow of a doubt the most complete and utter... (a thought strikes him) hang on a moment.
PLASMA: What?
Yud's brow furrows as he ponders this new idea.
YUD: ...yeeeesss... Yes, that could be... yes! Okay, Mr Plasma, it would be a pleasure to work with you on this. Can I please have an address?
PLASMA: My details are on this card. (hands Yud a huge ripped sheet of soggy corrugated cardboard) YUD: Ah, thank you very much. Now, would you please vacate the premises immediately? I'll be in touch.
PLASMA: Okay. Thanks very much!
YUD: You're welcome. Bye now!
Plasma leaves.
VIPER: Ha! I thrashed you!
JIM: So you did.
VIPER: You hardly offered up any resistance that time. You weren't even concentrating.
JIM: Oh, I was.
VIPER: Rematch?
JIM: Why not? There is much still for the fates to decide.
They settle back into the game. Yud sits back in Chocobo's chair, creaking back and forth happily. So happily, in fact, that he is slow off the mark when she returns.
CHOCOBO: Why is the local lunatic fringe playing around in our elevator? (spots Yud) Yud, just what the hell are you doing in my chair?
YUD:(leaps up) Uh... I was... um...
CHOCOBO: Yes? I'm waiting!
YUD: I... uh... Oh, dear god! (writhes) I think my spine is liquefying! I need urgent medical attention!
CHOCOBO: You're fooling nobody, Yud.
YUD: Then... oh... um...
With lightning speed, Yud retrieves a lighter from the desk drawer, sets fire to his trousers, and slaps the lighter against his thigh so hard that it shatters, covering his legs in blazing fuel.
YUD: MY LEGS ARE ON FIRE!!!!
CHOCOBO: Oh, dear god!!
YUD: AIIIIEEE!!!! (runs screaming from the room) FOAM EXTINGUISHER!! FOAM EXTINGUISHER!!
CHOCOBO: Now just what was that all about?
VIPER: Beats me.
JIM: Hmmmmmm.
SCENE 6:Waning Gibbous Moon restaurant. Day.
The furnishings look exactly like an Indian restaurant. It is early and quiet. A single waiter stands trying in vain to explain things to Mechninja, who sits alone at a table.
MECHNINJA: Look, you can't just freeze me out of the loop like this. No more joking around, I want to talk to Don Ravioli.
WAITER: I keep explaining! The person you seek is not resident here any longer!
MECHNINJA: I know you've got to keep a low profile about things, but this is ridiculous. Just call him down here, will you?
WAITER: This is an Indian restaurant now! All straight and above board! Please leave us alone!
MECHNINJA: Ha, ha, very good. You passed the test. Now, could you please show me through to the Don's office?
WAITER: For Krishna's sake, man, he's not here any more! I don't know who you're talking about! We acquired this building in a police auction about a year ago!
MECHNINJA: ...Really?
WAITER: It's true, sir.
MECHNINJA: Damn it! Well, look, is there any chance you'd consider using this business as a front for any illegal goings on?
WAITER: I'm afraid not.
MECHNINJA: Money laundering? Weasel betting? Contract killing?
WAITER: Sorry.
MECHNINJA: Oh... well... um... what's good here, anyways?
WAITER: I recommend the most expensive thing on the menu...
SCENE 7:A deserted office. Night.
This room has not been entered for months, perhaps longer. It is at the top of a skyscraper. Consequently, the floor is taken up by one huge office. There are steps leading round the side to a central staircase which takes you to the window. The window has been hastily boarded up, which explains the lack of heat. It is no lighter inside than outside. After a few moments, there is a beep. The lift doors open.
YUD: And here it is... your new headquarters.
PLASMA: Wow. Um... thanks?
YUD: Sure, it's not much now, but you get some new furniture, and a glazier for that window, and it'll look good as new.
PLASMA: Hey, yeah, this'll be pretty cool, won't it? How much is this going to cost me?
YUD: Nothing. It's abandoned.
PLASMA: Really? But the rest of the building is being used, right?
YUD: Yes. It's best not to ask too much. Let's just say there was an... accident up here, and the floor was sealed off. Nobody knows about it any more. And you need this key to access it. (throws said key to Plasma) PLASMA: Oh. Right. So... how do you know about it all?
YUD: Jim laughs in his sleep.
PLASMA: So?
YUD: Sometimes you can make out words...
PLASMA: Doesn't anyone notice that the building has more floors than you can access?
YUD: No. Strange, isn't it?
PLASMA: Um, yeah...
YUD: Anyway, don't worry about it. Now, tomorrow I'll be over to sort out a few things, okay?
PLASMA: Right.
YUD: And you just stay put, okay? You don't want to give away the location of your HQ.
PLASMA: I guess not.
YUD: You've brought plenty of canned food, right? I'll try to think of a better way for you to get food. So, you're all set!
PLASMA: Okay!
YUD: I'll see you early tomorrow. (exits)
Plasma settles down in the big chair behind the desk, and wishes it was warmer.
SCENE 8:Comic book HQ. Day.
Today there is actually some semblance of work going on. Yud, for once, is actually typing words, and Jim is looking enough like he's doing something useful to avoid Chocobo's attention.
VIPER:(quietly snores)
Oh, yeah, Viper's asleep on the sofa, but then you can't have it all, can you? The door suddenly flies open and Eskimo enters. His hair has been slightly singed.
ESKIMO: Wowza! Hey, Yud, you wouldn't *believe* what just ha...
YUD: Not now, please, Eskimo, I'm working.
ESKIMO: ...Whu..?
YUD:(looks up) Actually, there is something you could do to help me. Could you please secure for me the services of a glazier, an electrician, and, let's see, yes, an engineer of some sort?
ESKIMO: Hey, Jim's an engineer of sorts.
YUD: No! Um, not Jim.
Yud risks a nervous glance at Jim, who doesn't appear to be listening.
ESKIMO: Right-o. What should I do with them?
YUD: Well, could you just... (leans closer to Eskimo and whispers) fss fssss fss fss fss.
ESKIMO: What? I didn't catch any of that. It was just a sort of hissing noise.
YUD: Oh, just bring them here, would you? I'll tell you then.
ESKIMO: Okay!
Eskimo darts eagerly out of the door.
CHOCOBO: I hope this script of yours is coming along okay, Yud. If it's not ready for our deadline...
YUD: No problemo, it's going just fine.
CHOCOBO: Yeah, yeah... (notices Yud's screen) hey! Where did all that writing come from?
YUD: Uh, it's my story.
CHOCOBO: Oh. Well... keep it up, then.
JIM: What's it about, Yud?
YUD: It's great stuff. It's all about this crazy guy who thinks he's a descendant of Big Boss!
JIM: Really?
YUD: Yup! And he lives, uh, in a... in an underground base, and... well, that's it so far. You know, this story just establishes the character.
JIM: Riiight. What's he called? Gaseous Snake, or *Plasma* Snake, or something?
YUD: Well... yes, actually, he calls himself Plasma Snake. Good guess.
JIM: It was, wasn't it?
There is a knock at the door.
CHOCOBO: Enter!
The door opens, and in steps none other than Mechninja...
JIM: You!
CHOCOBO: What are you doing here!?
MECHNINJA: Yes, yes, it's okay, don't worry. I'm not after Paddy this time.
YUD: When were you ever after Paddy?
MECHNINJA: Um... forget it. Anyway, I was wondering whether you could help me?
CHOCOBO: What?
MECHNINJA: Well... uh, I'm looking for organised criminals, and, I, uh, I asked this literary agent, and she said she knew someone who might know... uh...
CHOCOBO: Get out!
MECHNINJA: Yes, okay...
He trudges out.
JIM: That sodding agent! Must she send half the criminal underworld beating a path to our door?
CHOCOBO: Find us a better agent or stop complaining.
JIM: I know, it's just that... oh, forget it.
YUD: Well, I'm done! It's just printing out, Chokie.
CHOCOBO: Um, right. Well, let's see it, then.
Yud hands her the print-out.
CHOCOBO: Hmm... yes... right... I thought you said he lived underground?
YUD: Did I?
CHOCOBO: Anyway, this isn't bad. We'll use it. I guess you might as well take the rest of the day off, then; we've got enough material for the next issue...
JIM: Afternoon off!? Why does he get...
CHOCOBO: Because he's finished work! What work exactly are you doing, anyway?
JIM: Umm... research?
CHOCOBO: Well, you can make a start on the layouts for Yud's script now.
YUD: Ha!
JIM:(sotto voce) Damn you, Yud... there goes my weekend...
SCENE 9:Plasma's office. Day.
Plasma sits trying to play with a broken executive toy. There is a ping, and Yud enters.
YUD: Hello again! We've much to do.
PLASMA: You said you'd be here early...
YUD: It is early.
PLASMA: It's gone two.
YUD: That's plenty early for our purposes. Come on in, guys!
Eskimo herds three men in from the lift. They are all blindfolded.
ESKIMO: We're here! You can take them off now.
YUD: Right then. We need that window replaced, a telephone installed, and we'll discus the rest in a moment. You've all got your stuff with you, right? If you need anything else, send my associate. You can't leave this office without your blindfolds. The location must remain a secret.
ESKIMO: What if they work it out from the view?
YUD: Um... well, don't, okay? Right, you can start. You can afford this, by the way, can't you, Plasma?
PLASMA: Um... I think so. What's the phone for?
YUD: Well, you'll be able to phone us for things. And people will be able to call you for information regarding your nefarious schemes.
PLASMA: Is that really appropriate?
YUD: Of course, of course! You need to be a villian for the information age!
PLASMA: If you say so. I suppose you're the expert. How will you get stuff to me if people can't come to the office?
YUD: I need to talk this one over with the workers. I'm hoping we can get some kind of pulley system set up, or something.
PLASMA: Pulley system?
YUD: Or something.
ESKIMO: They'll come up with something. I can vouch for them.
YUD: Oh, you've worked with them before?
ESKIMO:(surprised) No.
PLASMA: So how am I going to put my plans into action?
YUD: Well... we'll get round to that. First we have to make sure people know about you, right?
PLASMA:(dubious) I suppose... but I would like to get on with holding the world to ransom as soon as possible.
YUD: It'll happen, it'll happen. We're just preparing the ground, okay?
PLASMA: Okay.
YUD: Right, get to work, folks!
They do, gradually.
SCENE 10:Outside Kunio's store. Day.
It is several days later. Eskimo is walking past the store. As he passes the window, he is suddenly compelled to stare in at its contents. Squallid, who was behind Eskimo, walks into him.
SQUALLID: Why'd you stop?
ESKIMO: Um... I was looking, uh, at the, um... that comic? Yes, that comic there in the window! It's cool! I want one.
SQUALLID: Um, Eskimo, that's *our* comic. There's a whole bunch of them lying around back at home.
ESKIMO: But... but... the comic!
Eskimo runs into the store.
SCENE 11:Inside Kunio's store. Day.
Eskimo runs around the store madly.
ESKIMO: Where's that amazing comic I saw?
Kunio emerges from his hiding place near the window display, carrying a very large magnet.
KUNIO: Ah, yes, it's true that the issue of which you speak has been uncommonly popular, especially with those amongst the populace who cannot tell the difference between a pin cushion and their own head...
ESKIMO: Hey, it tingles!
KUNIO: ...but I'm afraid to say we're sold out as of now. I need that display copy to encourage interest in the new batch I have ordered. As I am in a good mood, however, I will let you look at it.
SQUALLID: I thought you had to keep comics free of human contact for them to rise in value?
KUNIO: Correct. However, this only applies to *good* comics.
SQUALLID: Oh, okay.
He joins Eskimo in browsing through the book.
SQUALLID: "Plasma Snake"?
ESKIMO: Usurped!
KUNIO: I must, if not admire, at least acknowledge their ingenuity. They have made it possible to speak to the comic's main character. I haven't quite figured out how yet, but no doubt this is but a temporary lapse in my powers of deduction.
SQUALLID: "Plasmaline: 1-800-PLASMA." Hey, maybe we should call it.
ESKIMO: No point; we can always meet him in person if we really want.
KUNIO: Have you quite finished loitering in my store now? You're making the place look untidy. (glances at door) Oh, consarn it.
Two more customers have entered.
CUSTOMER 1: Hey, is that the Plasma Snake comic? It's great!
CUSTOMER 2: Have you called the number?
CUSTOMER 1: You should try it! It's hilarious! It's like Jack Chick and Gene Ray rolled into one!
ESKIMO: Look, just why is this so much more popular than the previous issues?
CUSTOMER 1: There were other issues?
SQUALLID: The comic's been running for about two years.
CUSTOMER 1: I never saw it before.
ESKIMO: I think it had a print run of about six...
SQUALLID: It's kind of an underground thing, you know?
ESKIMO: Culty.
SQUALLID: Selectively appealing.
KUNIO: Shut up!! Is anybody here with the intent of making a purchase?
CUSTOMER 2: Uh...
ESKIMO: No...
SQUALLID: Not really...
CUSTOMER 1: I guess not...
KUNIO: Then get out! And give me that comic back!
Exeunt omnes.
SCENE 12:Plasma's office. Day.
Plasma speaks on the phone.
PLASMA: Yes, that's right. No, no, the fighting won't stop. It has to carry on; that's the whole point! Haven't you been listening? ...Oh, you'd better not be alughing at me! Right, that's it! You will be amongst the first to suffer! (hangs up, dials) Hello? Yud, what's happened to those pizzas? ...Yeah? Well, they'd better be. I can't plot on an empty stomach, you know. (hangs up)
The phone rings again.
PLASMA: Hello, Plasma Snake speaking. ...Really? You're not mocking my power, are you? Right, well, I'll have to arrange an audience. Bear in mind you can only work with me if you're a contender. I won't take on just any two-bit plankton of a villian. I'll want to see some credentials. ...Um, go to the car park near the old people's home and wait for a guy to meet you there, okay? Bye. (hangs up)
There is a whirring. A hatch in the wall opens. Plasma's pizzas have arrived. So has Eskimo.
PLASMA: Hmm, speak of the devil. What are you doing here?
ESKIMO: I gave the pizza boy the night off.
PLASMA: You just came up 45 floors on the elevator counterweight?
ESKIMO: Didn't hurt.
PLASMA: Right... hey, by the way, you need to bring some folks here, okay? They'll be at the rendezvous point.
ESKIMO: Okay, sure thing... hey! I've got a bone to pick with you. You've pushed the wrong guy out of the tree! You really thought you could get away with taking a slice out of my pork pie? Well, think again!
PLASMA: I... have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.
ESKIMO: Oh, really? Well, we'll see. Believe you me, when I'm through with you, you'll be... boring! Ha ha! Oh yes, I've got plans for you.
And with that, he leaps over the bannister and sprints into the window, which completely fails to shatter.
ESKIMO: ...Ouch!
PLASMA: Uh, I really wouldn't recommend that. Why don't you take the elevator?
ESKIMO: ...I will do that.
He strolls over to it with forced nonchalance and presses the button. He has to wait quite a long time before it arrives. There is an awkward silence.
SCENE 13:Cinema.
The film: Final Destination! Rabid Chocobo has brought the worker lackeys here in celebration of the last comic's success.
JIM: Why have I never seen this as an in-flight movie?
YUD: Heh. You ever see MST3K?
JIM: Never, and what's more I'm proud of the fact.
CINEMAGOER: Shh!
YUD: (But how can you...)
JIM: (What?)
YUD: ..ahem.. how can you knock it! It's great!
JIM: Sitting in a cinema making smart-alec comments? You must be very proud.
YUD: Just what is your problem!?
CHOCOBO: Look, just shut up, would you?
CINEMAGOER: Shh! I've been waiting five months for this rerelease!
JIM: What an exciting life you must lead.
YUD: Look! Look on the screen! Like that would ever really happen!
JIM: What?
YUD: I guess she ought to... uh, get circuit breakers.
JIM: Hmm, no... no, that wasn't particularly funny, no.
CINEMAGOER: Shut up!!
ESKIMO: Hee hee, fire can be fun!
NEVERMORE: Look, did I talk through Star Wars Episode 1?
ESKIMO: Yes.
NEVERMORE: Exactly! Because...
YUD: Look, what an idiot. Why doesn't he just call 911?
JIM: Because the house is about to explode.
NEVERMORE: Excuse me, I am trying to argue with Eskimo.
JIM: Oh, what's the point?
ESKIMO: Hey!
CHOCOBO: Just SHUT UP, okay?
CINEMAGOER: Shush!
CHOCOBO: Oh, you too!
YUD: Hey, when... (uh, when he saw that explosion, do you think it maybe dislodged a thought or two...) in his big, STUPID HEAD!? Ha ha!
JIM: Yud, you're embarrassing us. You're embarrassing our fellow film buffs. But mostly you're embarrassing yourself.
YUD: Oh, you're no fun.
ESKIMO: ...I don't think I get it.
CINEMAGOER: Oh, I've had enough of this. (storms out) NEVERMORE: You reckon he's going to the relevant authorities?
CHOCOBO: Who cares?
YUD: Why the hell are the FBI so bothered with him, anyway? He obviously didn't do anything.
JIM: Aren't we the armchair criminologist?
YUD: What's that supposed to mean?
ESKIMO: Hey, this next bit's good. Oh, no, wait... no, it isn't, no.
A torch shines into the audience.
USHER: Could we keep the noise down, please?
The beam passes over Eskimo, and he stares into it, transfixed, following it around like a stunned frog.
USHER: Just show some consideration for the other members of the audience, okay? Or we'll have to ask you to leave. (switches torch off) ESKIMO: ACK! I'M BLIND!!! (falls over noisily) USHER: Okay, that'll do. Could you all just make your way over here, please?
JIM: This is all your fault, Eskimo. (sniggers) NEVERMORE: You're throwing us out?
USHER: That's right, sir.
NEVERMORE: Then I'd like half my money back, please.
USHER: What?
JIM: He's right. We've only seen half of this motion picture. This is breach of contract.
USHER: Look, please don't make a scene.
JIM: What, and ignore the criminal actions being done on behalf of your company?
ESKIMO: Have you got a good lawyer, eh? Can we have his or her number?
USHER: Look, I don't see why...
CHOCOBO: You ruined our evening. I'm traumatised.
ESKIMO: I hurt inside! Ouch...
CINEMAGOER:(re-entering) ...oh, god...
JIM: Him! He's the one!
YUD: He's been talking all through the movie.
CHOCOBO: They're right.
CINEMAGOER: What..? You're not going to listen to those..? Oh, for Christ's sake!
NEVERMORE: Look, if you don't remove him so that we can enjoy our movie in peace, it's lawsuit time. I'm sorry, but you leave me no option.
CINEMAGOER: You morons! If you don't shut up...
CHOCOBO: Threats!
NEVERMORE: I'll protect you!
YUD: Remove the hatemonger!
JIM: Come on. Anything for a quiet life, eh?
USHER: Oh... *sigh* okay, okay. Sir, could you please come with me?
CINEMAGOER: What!?
The usher quietly escorts the irate audience member out of the auditorium.
CHOCOBO: Yeah, that's the spirit.
JIM:(affects rural American drawl) Yeah, it'll be the chair for you no doubt. Now sit quiet, Billy-Bob, else I'll ram a heifer up your goddamn nostril, and we'll see if ya can still whistle Dixie with a face fulla cow!!
ESKIMO:(snorts into popcorn) CHOCOBO: Ah...
NEVERMORE: I do love the movie theatres.
JIM: Cinemas...
YUD: So why doesn't he get pulled over for speeding, anyway? Is this a cop-free zone or something?
JIM: I really don't know, Yud.
SCENE 14:Plasma's office. Night.
Plasma is elbow-deep in paperwork, the purposes of which is entirely unclear. Shortly there is a whirring as the wall hatch opens. With some difficulty, Mechninja and Wolf climb out.
MECHNINJA: Hell... hello...
PLASMA: Wow! I would never have thought you could fit two people in that thing. Why didn't you take the elevator?
MECHNINJA: We couldn't.
WOLF: Your man said he was busy and told us to climb through the trapdoor behind the yucca plant in the lobby...
PLASMA: Well, you're here. Do take a seat.
They look around. There are no seats.
PLASMA: Well... improvise, improvise. You need to think on your feet in this business.
MECHNINJA: Because you can't sit down, presumably...
WOLF:(grumbles)
They manage to make use of an upended plant pot and a filing cabinet with one drawer open.
PLASMA: Right. (starts dictaphone) Here begins the interview of... Mechninja, and Sniper Wolf, is that right?
WOLF: Yes.
MECHNINJA: Right.
PLASMA: Are those your real names?
MECHNINJA: Uh, no, it's Chr...
PLASMA: Whoa! Don't reveal your secret identity! Ha ha ha ha! Just my little joke. Helps to break the ice before an interview, right?
MECHNINJA:(by now extremely nervous) ...Right.
PLASMA: Okay, onto the questions. Firstly, what skills do you possess that might aid my grand scheme? You can go first, Wolf.
WOLF: I am a sniper.
PLASMA: Right. Any good?
WOLF: I am the best.
PLASMA: Egotism... good. Don't get too big for your boots, though. No pun intended, hah.
WOLF:(confused) Hah.
PLASMA: And how about you, Mechninja?
MECHNINJA: Um, I am highly charismatic.
PLASMA: Are you?
MECHNINJA: Um... yes.
PLASMA: R...ight. Moving on, could you tell me anything of your past achievements?
WOLF: Sniping in all conditions for the greatest soldier who ever lived.
PLASMA: Ha ha... I very much doubt that, but well done. Mechninja?
MECHNINJA: Well, I spent my early years... uh... extracting financial resources from minor autonomous businesses and institutions through various means of persuasion...
PLASMA: Petty extortion.
MECHNINJA: Um, on occasion I dabbled in the liberation of properties from various retail outlets...
PLASMA: Shoplifting? Anything else, wild man?
MECHNINJA: Well, on a regular basis I indulge in the crossing of public highways in which traffic control signals are in place at locations other than areas designated for said purpose.
PLASMA: Jaywalking? Look, are you wasting my time here?
MECHNINJA: No, no! I know I'm coming across as small-time here, but that's behind me! For I, that is to say, the two of us, were involved in one of the greatest undercover terrorist actions of recent years! Oh, you won't have heard anything about it, but that just goes to show how high-key it was! The government couldn't afford to admit anything about it!
PLASMA: I see. Well, this takes us on neatly to the next question. Previous emploment. So tell me, what organisation did you previously work for?
MECHNINJA: You probably won't have heard of it.
WOLF: It was just a little, élite organisation, known to some as...
MECHNINJA: FOX-HOUND.
Silence.
WOLF: It... the unit had its roots in the end of the last century, but we didn't join until a bit later.
MECHNINJA: We worked with several professionals. I think most of them are dead now, but the head's still out there somewhere.
WOLF: Liquid Snake. He wasn't the original leader, though.
MECHNINJA: Yes, Wolf joined in the time of Big Bo...
PLASMA: GET OUT!
MECHNINJA: Whu... what? Uh, did we... did we pass?
PLASMA: GET OUT, BEFORE I THROW YOU OUT! PRETENDERS!
WOLF: No, we really were in...
PLASMA: PRETENDERS!! All of you, pretenders to MY LEGACY!!! I will be dead before I work alongside you and your kind!
Plasma has leapt from his seat, and is backing the two interviewees into a corner.
WOLF: What is your problem?
PLASMA: I'm not going to sully myself any further talking to you! How DARE you invoke the name of Salah eh Din!? Get out, get out!
His sheer rage forces them to climb meekly back into the dumbwaiter hatch.
MECHNINJA: Can we... um, will you get back to us, then?
Plasma shuts them in, wordlessly. As they descend, he runs around his office kicking things.
PLASMA: That's IT! The time for talking is over! Actions speak louder than words, and while pretenders to my legacy roam the city, I cannot be still. Big Boss... you shall be avenged.
SCENE 15:Comic book HQ. Day.
The hustle and bustle of everyday life. Work has started on the next issue. Unusually, Nevermore is at a computer (because Jim normally sits there. I'm not suggesting Nevermore doesn't know how to use a computer or anything.) Eskimo idles on the sofa. Jim is slumped listlessly on the floor.
NEVERMORE: Just this minute finished!
CHOCOBO: What's that?
NEVERMORE: My opus. My magnum opus.
ESKIMO: Is it ice cream?
NEVERMORE: No, Eskimo, this is my ticket to the high life. Nobody, but nobody, from now on, will ever question my genius. My name in lights. Oh, yes.
CHOCOBO: And what exactly is it?
NEVERMORE: Well, what do you think I've been doing for the past few months? You think because I'm not doing anything tangible for the comic that I'm not pulling my weight creatively?
JIM: Is it necessary to be so coy about this? You'd think we weren't allowed to know what you've done.
NEVERMORE: I have written...
ESKIMO: Yees?
NEVERMORE: ...a stage musical adaptation...
CHOCOBO: Hmm?
NEVERMORE: ...of Final Fantasy VII.
A very long pause.
JIM: WHAT?
Meanwhile, Yud reaches for the phone. It rings, coincidentally, just as he is picking it up.
YUD: Uh, hello? Plasma! I was just about to call you, isn't that strange? ...Um, you, you just say what you have to say, yes, let it all come pouring out. ... Dimensional transference device? Wow, that's good stuff. Keep talking. ...And then? Who, me? What'd I ever do to..? ...Oh, right? Anyway, carry on... yes... ...oh, that's clever, yes... okay, thanks! (hangs up)
The conversation taking place in the other half of the room still hasn't advanced.
YUD: Boy, this guy's dynamite! You know how much material I'm getting here? I got your next story coming right up!
JIM: Unh?
YUD: Dimensional transference device... the punters love that kind of stuff. And can you believe he thinks he's coming after us?
JIM: Who?
YUD: Oh, nobody. Just my little muse.
JIM: Plasma Snake?
YUD: Uh... well...
CHOCOBO: Stop it. That's not important. Nevermore... are you... you are... joking, yes?
SCENE 16:Mechninja's dry-cleaning shop. Day.
Mechninja and Wolf are really quite depressed. They lounge about the counter.
MECHNINJA: You know, the more I think about it...
WOLF: Yes...
MECHNINJA: The more I get the feeling we humiliated ourselves back at that interview.
WOLF: You don't say?
MECHNINJA: I mean, that Plasma guy... that little upstart... he went and shouted us down! He threw us out of his office! Us!
WOLF: That he did.
MECHNINJA: I mean, for goodness' sake. Why didn't you stick up for yourself?
WOLF: What? Me!? What about you? (sings) Extortion and arson, petty larceny...
MECHNINJA: Oh, stop it! Okay, this has gone on long enough. I know you're cranky. Hell, I'm pretty cranky myself. But there's no need to go blaming one another now that we've found the perfect scapegoat.
WOLF: What are you saying?
MECHNINJA: The time has come. We're going to...
WOLF: Yes?
MECHNINJA: Get... Plasma...
WOLF: Hmm. I like your thinking.
SCENE 17:Plasma's office. Night.
Plasma peers through a doorway. It leads to a short staircase which takes you to the roof of the building.
PLASMA: How's it going up there?
VOICE: Just fine, thanks!
PLASMA: When will it be ready?
VOICE: I've just about finished! It'll take a few hours to warm up, though.
PLASMA: Right...
Ping.
PLASMA: Who... who's that? Hey!
JIM: Hello there.
PLASMA: How did you get up here?
Jim casually brandishes a key.
PLASMA: What..? Where did you get that key!?
JIM: Oh, right here, Plasma.
PLASMA: Okay, I don't know who you are or what you're up to, but you sure as hell sound to me like you know too much.
JIM: Oh, not everything. Maybe you could help me out on a couple of points.
PLASMA: I don't think so.
JIM: And why ever not? You seem ready enough to dish out information to anyone who feels inclined to dial-a-snake, and they don't even pay you the courtesy of a home visit.
PLASMA:(grins slowly) You know what? You're right. (wanders to door) How're you doing?
VOICE: It's all finished, Plasma!
PLASMA: Good work! Okay, fine. You want to know? I'll show you.
And with that, he leads Jim up the staircase.
SCENE 18:The rooftop. Night.
There is a strong wind up on the roof. A strange device has been constructed in the centre. It's about the size of a shed, and looks somewhat like a cross between a gun, a corkscrew and tweezers. A solitary figure stands at the base of the device, inspecting what must presumably be its controls.
PLASMA: This, my nosy friend, is the dimensional transference device. What does it do, I hear you ask!
JIM: What does it do?
PLASMA: Wouldn't you like to know, indeed! Well, I'll tell you. It will target a spherical area of one kilometre radius, and rotate all its dimensions by ninety degrees!
JIM: ...What?
PLASMA: Up and down will become left and right! Left and right will become back and forth! And back and forth will become back and forth... in time! The entire area will be completely upended, and anyone unfortunate enough to live there will die! Rather unpleasantly, I might add.
JIM: It wasn't really necessary.
PLASMA: Whatever. And I'd like to introduce you to the inventor responsible. Hey, spod-boy! Bad news... I lied! I'm actually going to be using this little gadget of yours for evil!
OTACON: Oh, man, not again!
PLASMA: But luckily for you and the have-a-go hero here, you won't be around to see its advent.
JIM: I wouldn't really describe myself as a...
PLASMA: Shut up! (pushes Jim over to Otacon) JIM: Hi, Otacon. Dimensional transference device? What are you, retarded?
OTACON: It was supposed to be an environmentally friendly power source...
JIM: Will it work?
OTACON: I don't know. Perhaps.
PLASMA: Shut up!!
He herds them at gunpoint to the edge of the building, where a pointlessly minimalist buttress adorns the corner.
PLASMA: I don't know whether a man can learn to fly. I hope for your sake you can do it in less than thirty seconds.
And with that, he pushes them off.
SCENE 19:Outside the skyscraper. Night.
Wolf and Mechninja stand peering at the front door.
MECHNINJA: Right, here's the plan. We march in, we make our way up to the top, we waste him.
WOLF: Maybe we should find a side entrance or something? More subtle?
MECHNINJA: No way. (brandishes ninja sword) Way of the samurai...
SCENE 20:44 floors above ground level. Night.
OTACON: Ouch.
JIM: Huh.
OTACON: Are we... dead?
JIM: No, we just wish we were.
OTACON: Then... where are we?
JIM: 44, the top brass floor!
As indeed they are, caught in a wire mesh which stands out from the building suspended between iron struts.
OTACON: A... safety net..?
JIM: Of course. The top two floors had this little safety measure installed a fair while back now. You think I'd have come barging in like that without doing my homework?
OTACON: How did you know?
JIM: Personal interest. Do you have a phone?
OTACON: Sure, don't you?
JIM: Don't insult me. Now give me the phone.
With some effort, Otacon does so.
JIM: Oof. This chicken wire stuff isn't the most comfortable landing, is it? (dials) Come on, come on... ah, Yud? It's about your friend Plasma. He's about to go Dr Evil on us. Could you perchance come and help to destroy what you helped to create? Bring us some backup, okay? ...No, you misunderstand me. I *don't* have time to argue. Bring Eskimo, won't you? He seems to come into his own at times like this. ...What? Well where is he? ...Oh, just bring the others, then! (hangs up) OTACON: Uh, what's happening?
JIM: Don't worry. We're professionals. Semi-professionals.
OTACON: Really?
JIM: Well, we're experienced amateurs. Will that do, Oddjob?
OTACON: Um, sorry.
SCENE 21:The lobby. Night.
Mechninja and Wolf stride over to the yucca plant, and push it aside.
WOLF: Well, would you look at that?
MECHNINJA: He boarded it up? The bastard! Right... we take the elevator as far as it goes, and then we make our way up from there.
WOLF: Okay...
They run into the lift, and it begins to ascend. Moments later, Yud, Chocobo, Paddy, and Viper run in through the front door.
CHOCOBO: Well?
YUD: It, we have to go to the top floor.
PADDY: Could you please explain why you woke me up?
YUD: There's no time!
He pushes the button for the other lift. They enter.
YUD: Um, you need a key, though.
VIPER: No... look, there's the button for floor 45. (he presses it) YUD: What? No, you need the... oh, forget it.
CHOCOBO: Yud, would you please take this convenient moment of peace to tell us just what the hell is going on?
YUD: Um.
SCENE 22:Floor 44. Night.
Mechninja and Wolf exit the lift. The corridor is dark and quiet. Most prominent on the floor is the boardroom, which has many windows. The two begin to stalk around looking for a way up.
WOLF: Mech! Look at this!
MECHNINJA: What the hell..? (peers at the ground) Oh, my god...
On the floor, just distinguishable in the gloom, is a trail of debris. It seems to glisten slightly in the half-light. On closer inspection, it can be identifies as a mixture of jelly beans, gum wrappers, paperclips, chestnuts, assorted playing and Tarot cards, twigs and so forth.
WOLF: Hell's biscuits...
They begin to cautiously follow the trail. It leads them, via a roundabout route, to a long boarded up doorway. It has been completely obliterated. Beyond it is an old-looking but serviceable lift.
MECHNINJA: Some kind of elevator?
WOLF: The trail goes in here. Should we..?
MECHNINJA: We have to.
Carefully, they enter the doorway. A few seconds later, the boardroom window slides haltingly open.
JIM: Come on, in this way...
OTACON: Okay...
They climb awkwardly into the boardroom, and make their way to the lifts. At this point, the next one arrives.
JIM: Ah, hello, Yud.
YUD: You have to ruin everything I do, don't you?
OTACON: Oh, hello there, Viper.
CHOCOBO: Otacon??
OTACON: Oh, hi. Um... Miss Chocobo, wasn't it?
CHOCOBO: Uh, yeah...
PADDY: I'm confused! Yud, your explanation made no sense!
JIM: Yud found a source of inspiration for the comic. The real Plasma Snake is right now plotting the end of the world as we know it, just two floors up.
VIPER: But... this is the top floor.
YUD: No, no, this is the penultimate floor.
OTACON: Look, just how do we get back up?
JIM: Over there! The old lift!
YUD: Elevator.
JIM: Shut up! There's no time!
PADDY: Oh, no way are we all fitting in that thing...
SCENE 23:Plasma's office. Night.
Mechninja and Wolf stand over Plasma. He lies slumped over his desk.
WOLF: ...Who could have done this?
MECHNINJA: I'm... not sure...
They pry the piece of paper from Plasma's grip with no resistance.
PLASMA: I'm... I'm sorry...
MECHNINJA: What is this?
WOLF:(reads) Last Will and Testament...
Plasma leaps suddenly from his chair, knocking it over.
MECHNINJA: Where did you get this?
PLASMA: H-him...
WOLF: Who?
But Plasma has made a run for the lift. The doors close before they can reach him.
WOLF: ...What was that all about?
YUD: That's just what I'd like to know.
The room has acquired several new occupants.
CHOCOBO: You two? You got here first?
MECHNINJA: No, I think we were second. (hands her the document) VIPER: What's that?
PADDY: ...Big Boss' *will*!?
CHOCOBO: So... turns out the old man doesn't approve of this kind of showy stuff?
JIM: I guess Plasma's going back to the kind of low-key work that didn't make FOX-HOUND famous in the first place.
YUD: Ah, the things a fake.
OTACON: How... how can you be so sure?
YUD: I just got a feeling.
WOLF: Why don't you ask whoever brought it to him?
MECHNINJA: Yeah, he's got to be here somewhere. He sure as hell didn't take the main elevator.
PADDY: Or that little one.
VIPER: Window's intact.
OTACON: The rooftop!
The mob immediately make a dash for the rooftop door.
SCENE 24:The rooftop. Night.
It is deserted. The dimensional transference device has been completely destroyed. Everyone wanders out of the door, confused. They look around for signs of life.
VIPER: Hey, look at this!
Something is attached to the very end of a corner buttress.
VIPER: That is one hell of a lot of elastic bands...
SCENE 25:Comic book HQ. Day.
The group lounge idly around the main room.
YUD: It was a fake, wasn't it?
ESKIMO: I'm not saying.
YUD: Considering I just found a copy of the document amongst your files here, I don't think you need to.
ESKIMO: Huh. Told him I'd do it, and I did it too.
YUD: Really? And just what exactly did you do?
ESKIMO: Rendered him boring.
VIPER: Nobody wants to hear a arch-villian deliver anguished soliloquys of self-doubt...
ESKIMO: Uh, yeah, what Viper said.
JIM: He'll figure it out, you know. He's not that stupid.
YUD: Well, thanks a bunch, guys. I don't know what the hell I'm going to write about after this issue.
JIM: Ignoring for a moment the fact that Plasma was planning to hold the world to ransom.
YUD: You don't know that doo-hickey of his would have worked.
JIM: Oh, just forget it.
PADDY: I'm... still confused. Why was floor 45 floor 44?
VIPER: Yeah...
JIM: Secret.
PADDY: Oh, come on.
JIM: Work it out for yourselves...
NEVERMORE: Floor thirteen.
ESKIMO: What?
NEVERMORE: There isn't one; presumably they decided a while back that it was unlucky.
CHOCOBO: Oh, so you are talking to us?
NEVERMORE: Only when I know it will annoy at least one of you.
JIM: No, what annoys me is the fact that the office has now been commandeered by the last dregs of FOX-HOUND. I mean, that's just ideal, isn't it?
ESKIMO: Ah, they won't be any trouble.
JIM: How can you be so sure?
ESKIMO: I've got a feeling.
NEVERMORE: With any basis in reality?
ESKIMO: ...No. Damn you.
Silence.
CHOCOBO: Well... I'm going shopping. Actually, no. You can go, Yud. We've all seen what happens if I leave you unattended here for twenty minutes.
YUD: Oh, do I have to?
CHOCOBO: Yes! And do me a favour and stop by that agent's office and put her head through a window, would you?
JIM: I'll second that...
NEVERMORE: While you're at it, could you ask her for the numbers of any local theatre production companies?
YUD: Right, right, okay. Anything else, or are we done slavemongering for today?
ESKIMO: I really need a crash helmet...
VIPER: Snacks.
PADDY: Um, wingnuts, please.
SQUALLID: Tinned brisket.
YUD: All right, already! (storms out)
Silence.
VIPER: So what do you suppose became of Plasma?
JIM: Probably went back to his previous residence. I'd feel sorry for the guy if he hadn't pushed me off the roof.
CHOCOBO: Must you be so theatrical about things?
JIM: I can't help it.
Eskimo stands up.
ESKIMO: Squallid...
SQUALLID: Yes?
ESKIMO: Fetch me a length of rope and we shall off to the comic book store.
SQUALLID:(grins) Yeah..?
ESKIMO: The fickle finger of fame beckons!
The two spring into action and are gone in seconds.
PADDY: I think I'll go back to sleep.
JIM: Viper? I think you're long overdue a sound defeat. Activate the machine.
VIPER: Now you're talking. (grabs a controller) NEVERMORE:(unenthusiastically) Ladies and gentlemen, we have normality...