User:Kibblekip/Sandbox/Meet the Director/Transcript

Meet the Director

[The comic opens with the RED Sniper driving his camper van into Teufort, with passengers Miss Pauling and a film director, the latter holding a camera, with the text 'VROOOOOOOM' for emphasis] Director: If you could pick one word to describe yourself, Mister Mundy, what would it be? Sniper: Er. Well... Director: I'm going to answer that for you: "Victim." Of the educational system. Of the role society has shackled you with as an Australian, of course. And let's not forget the current administration, which... Sniper: Wait, back up. What'd these folks do to me again? Director: Forced you to be a killer. Sniper: For the last time, mate... I'm a professional. [Sniper begins flicking the bobblehead of a civilian in an attempt to drown out the director's voice, with multiple 'TAK' sounds for emphasis] Director: Exactly. A victimized professional killer. An assassin. A murd(erer.) (D)eranged (psyc)hopath. Let me in, Mister Mundy. How do these words make you feel? [Sniper begins to verbally threaten the director, but is spoken over by Miss Pauling. The threats are too obscured to fully make out, and thus have not been transcribed] Miss Pauling: Oh, look! We're here! [Sniper and Miss Pauling exit the van to an ongoing firefight at 2Fort] Sniper: Well, let's get to work. You comin', fancy pants? Director: You have a disease, Mister Mundy. Don't ask me to enable it. I'll wait in the van. Sniper: *sigh* Right. Remind me why we've got to talk to this half-wit again. Miss Pauling: In a word: PR. The Administrator sees this as a perfect opportunity to show the good people of Badlands you're not just armed psychopaths blowing up all their landmarks on a daily basis. [Cut to the Administrator and Miss Pauling at the surveillance room] Administrator: I see this as a perfect opportunity, Miss Pauling, to spy on the armed psychopaths we're paying to blow each other up on a daily basis. This director's the perfect dupe. He's too stupid to divine our reasons for commissioning him. Too arrogant to listen to anything our mercs are actually telling him. And he records everything. Miss Pauling: Is all of this surveillance necessary? Most of these men's IQs are sub-normal... Administrator: Plutonium isn't smart, Miss Pauling. That doesn't mean it won't kill you if you don't keep tabs on where it is and what it's doing at all times. [Cut to the director conducting an interview with the RED Heavy at a warehouse. The Heavy's Minigun is laid out before them] Director: I was given your file. Let's talk about your childhood. Your father was a counter-revolutionary. When he was killed, you, your mother and your sisters were deported to a North Siberian gulag. Paint me a picture. Heavy: No. This is my gun. I like to shoot this gun. Is all you need to know. Director: Your family only lived in that gulag for three months. In December 1941 it burned to the ground. All of the prisoners had escaped. All of the guards had been killed. Tortured to death. Heavy: I. Like. To shoot. This gun. Is all you need to know. [The director puts his palm to his face in frustration] Director: Fine. Tell me about the gun. Heavy: She weighs one hundred and fifty kilograms and fires two-hundred-dollar custom-- [The scene cuts to the director in the middle of interviewing the RED Scout, as Miss Pauling stands by] Scout: ...more of a mentor to the rest of the team, you know? I see how they could be doin' their jobs better? It don't matter how busy I am. I will drop what I'm doin' and tell 'em. And why? Director: We ran out of film five hours ago. Scout: I'll tell ya why. Because I'm a team player. Probably the best team player on the team- Director: We ran out of film five hours ago. [They both stand up] Scout: That's okay, you can go buy some. I got tons more ta say. We'll wait here for ya. [As the director walks away, Scout leans against a fence next to Miss Pauling] Scout: Man, what a jackass. So how you doin', Miss Pauling? Hey, you ever seen me with my shirt off? Cuz it is awesome. [The scene cuts to the director walking with the RED Soldier] Director: No. I don't think Sun Tzu wrote any books about punching through a man's ribcage. Soldier: Huh. Tell you what I'm going to do, then: stop making threatening phone calls to the book store. Come here, I want to show you something a man of letters like yourself will appreciate. Tadah! Heads! [A series of decapitated heads wearing blue helmets line a fence. The director promptly runs away with his hand against his mouth as the Soldier watches, while Miss Pauling talks on the phone behind them] Miss Pauling: --everyone on the RED team, ma'am. Oh, yes. I think we've got more than enough. [Scene changes to an outside view of a small red building at nighttime] Voice: ["Did you think we wouldn't see what was really happening?"] ["Nobody asks a trained killer questions like that unless they're an idiot..."] [Cut to inside of the building, revealing the voice as the RED Spy, as he and the RED Scout, Soldier, Heavy and Sniper stand around an unknown figure that has been tied to a chair] Spy: ...or they're up to something. So now we are asking the questions. I would strongly urge you to answer them. Sniper? [Sniper holds up some polaroids] Sniper: Oh, I've got questions alright. Like ain't it a big bloody coincidence how one week after I talk about me mum and dad in an interview... [He throws the polaroids down onto the floor, with the text 'FNAP' for emphasis. The images are revealed to be of the Sniper's parents and their home] Sniper: Some soon-to-be-a-dead-man's mailin' me pictures of 'em? [Heavy also holds up polaroids, showing his house, as well as him and his Minigun in bed] Heavy: I also get pictures in mail. Of my home. I will find this man. I will destroy this man. Scout: That's your gun there? Heavy: Yes. Scout: In a tiny bed. Beside your bed. Heavy: Yes. Scout: That's pretty embarrassin'. Heavy: Yes. I must buy Sascha better bed. [Soldier suddenly holds up a cardboard box with a red stain underneath it] Soldier: That is nothing! Look what I got in the mail! I am also going to drop it on the floor like all of you did! [He drops it, and as it lands on the floor with a 'TUNK' sound, it opens to reveal a decaying, decapitated head inside] Spy: Whose... head is that? Soldier: Mine! The question is, where are the other seven? [He holds up a polaroid, showing a fence with two notes nailed to it, reading 'these are my heds' 'do not take m(y) heds'] [The angle changes to reveal the figure is one of the Administrator's messengers, of whom is dead, with blood coming from their face and neck. A monitor strapped to their chest shows a video feed of the Administrator in her surveillance room] Administrator: [First off, gentlemen, let me thank you for shooting yet another messenger. And when you kill the messengers, they can't return their miniature televisions, which it may surprise you to learn don't grow naturally on their chests.] [I have to buy them.] [Secondly, let me solve your little whodunnit. I sent you those photos.] Soldier: My heads! Administrator: [Yes. I took the heads too.] [Rest assured, they have been destroyed.] Soldier: Nooooooooo Administrator: [The photos, Mister Doe. Your heads are safe.] [I merely wanted to illustrate the dangers of discussing the terms of our contract. With anyone.] [Granted, this example is absurd... but imagine if I were somehow forced to use the information I now have about you... against you. Imagine some ridiculous hypothetical scenario where we weren't the close personal friends I know we are.] [The scene shifts away to the Administrator herself in her surveillance room] Administrator: Well. I think we've wasted enough time with fantastical yarns. I believe we have come to an understanding, gentlemen. Enjoy your evening. [Cut to the following day, where Miss Pauling's pickup truck resides outside of a mineshaft. She and the director stand outside] Director: A mine? She wants to conduct her interview in a mine? Miss Pauling: She... prefers the acoustics. Director: I suspect you misunderstood her. Like you misunderstand everything. God, you're useless. [As he walks into the mineshaft, Miss Pauling takes a shovel from the back of the truck. While she does this, her phone makes a 'RINNNNNG' sound] Director: Well, let's get this farce over with. Hello? Helllooo? Miss Pauling: Keep walking! She's further in! Director: Past these white canvas tarps? Miss Pauling: Oo. Perfect. Stand on those! I'll be right there! [As she answers the phone, she pulls out a bag of 'Mann Co. Corpse-Grade Quicklime' with a depiction of Saxton Hale on the front exclaiming "Oh yeahhhh!"] Miss Pauling: Pauling. Administrator: [Did it work?] Miss Pauling: Yep. Walked right in. Administrator: [Good. I told you not to waste time with an elaborate back-story.] [I just had a pleasant chat with our mercenaries. We should have all the leverage we need.] [Miss Pauling begins to load a dark-colored revolver] Miss Pauling: Should I hold off on your "interview"? He never got a chance to talk to BLU. [Cut to the Administrator in her surveillance room, holding a phone to her ear. Multiple displays with the mercs can be seen in the background] Administrator: No, he's a liability. Do the "interview". Then get back here as soon as you can. We'll need to find some new directors. TO BE CONTINUED IN THE FIRST ANNUAL SAXXY AWARDS