Prelude...

(See: An open-topped car cruising down an empty highway, the shot closes down on an old black convertible with three people inside. Closing in further, we see one driving and the other two (By their positions.) sleeping.)

(We're now close enough to see faces. The dark-complexioned woman on the left is in a foetal position, using a rolled-up leather jacket to pillow her head. A darkly-patterned scarf covers a lot of hair and little round red-mirrored sunglasses keep her eyes safe from the early-morning light. She moves slightly in her sleep, the reason for this being the younger slumbering occupant.) [1]

(The other is also dozing, but in that totally-relaxed, "rolling around to the slight motion of the car" sort of way, bumping the first. She's drooling on the sun-scarred upholstery, old-style Rayban Wayfarers (Think "Men in Black") hiding her face. Even though she's asleep, she's humming something, it sounds like Ave, Maria! She looks happy.) [2]

(We move now to the driver (Awake, so it's not Trent.) who is male and very pale. Long black gloves cover his hands to his upper arms and a black bandana covers his hair. The grey shirt completes the monochrome picture. His sunglasses are of a dark semi-reflective blue, almost wrap-arounds but contoured.)

(The driver's POV now: a lot of empty road with gently-rolling hills making up the countryside. The radio is on - it's playing "Parallel Universe" by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. As the driver's fingers tap gently in time with the music, we notice that they bend a lot more than normal fingers...there seems to be more than the usual number of joints.)

(As the car travels up a long rise, the view follows, showing the upwards gradient, then the crest and accompanying descent. The driver stares into the far distance, checks his mirrors and brings the car to a stop by the side of the road. At the change in engine noise and the long crunching roll into the gravel, the elder of the two women begins to stir.)

The Older Woman: (Works mouth and shades her eyes.) Beeugh. Hey? [3]

(The slam of the car door in the early hush wakes both occupants.)

The Younger Woman: god, wot now? [4]

(The driver stands on a rotted concrete block, shading his eyes and staring down into a valley. The passenger with the leather jacket shrugs it on and makes her way over.)

The Older Woman: Why the pit-stop? Find a sheep that got you in the mood? (She holds something up.)

(The driver extracts a pair of binoculars from his companion and uses it to scan the horizon. An expression of satisfaction crosses his face as he hands them back.)

Driver: (Wry.) The day a sheep makes me stop is the day you get to scrape mutton out of the front grill...(He nods.) Take a look down there.

(His companion does so.)

The Older Woman: (Eyes obscured by the binoculars, sunglasses pushed up on her head over the scarf.) So, what am I looking for?

Driver: At. You want to be looking at the little thunderstorm down there.

(She gives the small dark clump of clouds a scan.)

The Older Woman: Ok, it's a thunderstorm...(Appreciative noises.)...But is this in aid of something? (She breaks off to look back at the car.) God, are you still playing that CD? I thought I'd burnt it...

Driver: (Not sounding the least bit worried.) You were asleep. (Changing subject.) Ok, we're stopping off where that cloud is...

The Older Woman: (With an expression of disbelief.) Have you been eating AG's cooking again?

Driver: I'm still breathing, so "no". Ok, you're seeing a thunderstorm, right?

The Older Woman: Noooo, I'm seeing a blue-blooded obstruction on my road to sleep..?

Driver: (Ignoring the hint.) That thunderstorm is totally unnatural; it simply doesn't belong there. There's not enough relative humidity for clouds like that and the atmosphere's charge potential is way too low for anything as fun as what's zipping around down there.

(There is a thoughtful silence as the woman checks the clouds again, more slowly this time. She stops in mid-sweep.)

The Older Woman: (Amazed.) Damn!

Driver: (Shading his eyes.) Yes, I saw it too.

The Older Woman: (Replaces sunglasses, waves the binoculars to make her points.) Ok, yes, so you're as good as ever. (She shades her eyes and looks downslope.) There's a town down there...

Driver: (Calling to the car.) Yo! AG! Maps!

(The younger of the two women staggers out of the car, maps in hand. They meet up at the bonnet of the convertible, now recognisable as a beat-up old caddy. The map-bearer holds up a thermos, but the other two recoil from it.)

Driver: (Looking at the thermos warily.) Forget it, I want to live. (The Older Woman nods in agreement.)

AG: so, wot did you get me up for then? (The others take the maps.) oh.

Driver: So, south is... Lawndale?

The Older Woman: Got a plan?

Driver: The usual: check it out, take notes and go on from there.

The Older Woman: (Dry.) Good plan.

AG: yes! (As she drinks from the thermos, the other two wince. A few seconds later, when the youngest occupant of the car falls to the ground, the upright pair fold the maps. There is a kind of pregnant wait while people stretch the kinks out.)

The Older Woman: (Casually.) So... he's a mutant, then?

Driver: I'm pretty sure it was a "she", De. (Quietly.)... But these days.

De: ("The Older Woman") With things as they are.

AG: (Waking up again.) hey?! why are we stopped?

Driver: (Intones.) It lives.

De: (Explanatory to the prone AG.) A change in plan.

AG: sorry? we have a plan?

De: The "make-it-up-as-we-go" plan, the one we always follow.

AG: ahhhh, good plan!

Driver: (Dry.) Just like old times.

(The camera spins back from the trio, and the shot fades to black.)

Dominion

A story of the MTV Mutants, featuring the Unholy Trio. You've been warned. [5]

By Lew... with the occasional pants-filling scene of terror by Desanera & Aradia.

Original Concept: Rancour. Blame him, I'm just the insane ideas guy.

Disclaimers and legal things.

Daria belongs to MTV, all X-universe references belong to Marvel Comics Inc. Bite me.

(Situation: In Lawndale proper, the black Cadillac driving slowly up the streets while the occupants keep a wary eye out - there's not much to be wary of, though. Apart from some late lawyers speeding to work and the occasional jogger, the population seem to like a good lie-in.)

De: Hmmm, lawyers and joggers. Nothing to be scared of.

Driver: Unless I run over one of the said joggers...

De: (Grim, she really likes her sleep and the driver is out of easy reach...) Try not to, ambulance-chasers tend to be tenacious.

AG: (Waking up again.) tenacious! our word of the day! yippiee!

Driver: (With an expression of utter weariness.) It's your turn.

De: (Mildly alarmed.) You sure?

Driver: (Eyes on the road.) I'd roll up my sleeve and show you the festering wounds, but...

De: Okay, okay. (De takes a deep breath.) AG? (She pronounces it "Aggie".)

AG: (Calming down for half a second.) yeppers?

De: (Carefully removing something from an interior pocket.) Chocolate?

AG: (Think Calvin out of "Calvin & Hobbs" crossed with Cornholio in full frenzy.) mememememeeee?! chocolate! yeeppee!

(De throws the unwrapped bar to AG, where it is consumed in a brown-foam frenzy. The other two recoil from the noise and bits of slobber.)

Driver: (Not being sarcastic at all.) Well done.

De: (Ducking another wad of foam, very dry.) Get enough practice doing something...

Driver: There's got to be a better way, I mean, somehow she's got to be able to function in society... (He breaks off to look hard at a sign by the side of the road.) Great.

De: What now, Elle? (I.e.: "L".)

Elle: Ok, does the name Andrew Blenkins ring any bells? (He scowls as the sign passes by.) [6]

De: Nope.

Elle: Ok, how ‘bout "One Humanity"?

De: (Looks "not happy"-ier.) Aww, Fu...

Elle: (Same.) Riiight. I've a motel coming up... oh, screw that.

AG: wot? (She pops up from the back seat.)

De: (Dry.) Recovered, have you?

AG: wot??

Elle: Never mind. (Beat.) And look to your right.

(They pass by a motel with a giant clog on the roof of the restaurant. Collective shiver by the car's occupants.)

De: (Shading her eyes from the abomination.) So what has One Humanity have to do with roadside artwork?

AG: (Pointing.) WOT?! that was ART?

Elle: (Patiently.) Not the clog - although I'm in full agreement with you there - the sign. We passed some god-awful billboard by a guy called Andrew Blenkins... who is a dyed-in-the-wool rabid anti-mutant, popular with like-minded bigots.

De: (Examines nails for stray chocolate.) Inferring that this town is likewise pre-disposed..?

Elle: (Mostly to himself.) Please, no. (Louder.) Ok. I've found home.

AG: hotel? motel?

De: Smoking hole in the ground? (Sideways glance from Elle.) Ok, I'm assuming that we don't have to worry about... (Breaks off.) Nice.

(The black Caddy pulls into a large Hotel that should be VERY familiar to anyone who has seen "Fire! Fire!" &emdash; yes, it's that one.)

De: (With all still in the car.) Ok, who's paying for this? (Looks to Elle.) Stupid question?

Elle: (Doesn't really want to start.) I'll be kind.

AG: (Still on another track.) so... wot was it that you didn't like about One Humanity and art?

Elle: (To AG before they disembark.) I don't mind "them" painting, but the amount of coverage depends on how hard you can throw the bastards...

(Open to the interior of a room, by the décor &emdash; a hotel room. Elle comes in from another room, probably a shower since he's towelling his hair dry. For a moment, we can see that it's bright blue. The room itself is typical of its kind, modern, well-equipped, all the usual vices, nice views and more towels than you know what to do with. It also looks expensive.)

Elle: Hmm? (The "raised eyebrow of inquiry.")

De: (Obviously waiting for the bathroom and not happier because of it.) Look, would you? (She tosses over some newspapers to Elle, then takes the TV off "mute".)

(Cut to... )

TV Reporter: (Basically, a male version of the SSW Lady.) Police are as yet unable to explain the carnage seen at Lawndale high (TV: establishing shot of the school.) last week.

(TV: Footage shot by amateur camera-people; Upchuck bouncing around and the Marshmallow Of Magnetism &emdash; O'Neill &emdash; floating big hunks of metal about with the requisite blue crackly lightnings.)

TV Reporter: We cross now, live, to Lawndale's Police Chief...

(We now see a harried-looking man in a police uniform behind a makeshift podium. He looks like "Happy Herb" but no moustache. Or happiness.)

Police Chief: No, the Police Department will take no action against those students who (He pauses.) aided us against the attackers. We understand that their actions were obviously in self-defence; of their lives and those of their fellows (Looks tired.) we'd just want their statements in order to help convict the terrorists...

(Quick-cut to an ambulance stretcher being ineffectually trundled with a bloody Andrea strapped to it.)

Police Chief: ... And help put them behind bars. (He shrugs.) Personally, I applaud their efforts and would gladly shake their hand in thanks, especially that of Michael Jordan MacKenzie... (Side window opens on-screen, a photo of the grinning "Mack Daddy" in football gear.) ... who is, without doubt, a hero.

(Quick-cut to Mack blowing a chunk of roof in the way of O'Neill, saving it from collapsing on some Grade 9'er in a witch's costume.)

(Cut to the crowd of reporters.)

Reporter: (Think "sleazy journo-hack". Call him... Alan.) Chief! Are you saying that a bunch of school kids succeeded where the Police couldn't?

Chief: (Keeping his expression of anger for the reporter.) No. I'm saying that if it wasn't for their aid, this disaster would have been a massacre. (Millisecond of emphasis.) No more questions.

(The view cuts back to... )

TV Reporter: (Looking grave, yet earnest.) This outbreak of Mutant terrorism brought forth strong criticism from Paul Hanson, a spokesperson for "One Humanity".

(Shift to a more imposing podium, with a background hinting of professional spin-doctoring.)

Paul Hanson: [Love the name Rancour!] (To a few reporters, who look bored.) It is plain to see that the authorities' inaction has led to yet another tragedy. If the Government actually bothered to enforce the already legal... (Some cat-calls.)... Already legal processes in place for dealing with situations such as these, this terrorist act could have been prevented.

(Back to the Reporter at desk.)

TV Reporter: The Principal of Lawndale High, Ms Angela Li, declined to comment on air, but is reported as being shocked by the attack.

(De hits the remote "mute" for the requisite ad-break.)

De: Gods! I swear that if Nuclear War broke out, we'd be the last to know.

Elle & AG: Not true. (They look at each other, then shrug.)

Elle: EM burst. (Looks to AG to continue.)

AG: it'd be easy to pick up.

De: Like these papers?

(Cut to the papers on the bed; "Mutant's Attack!" being the most benign title.)

Elle: (Examining nails... which is odd, since he has on the same gloves.) Life wasn't meant to be uninteresting. (He easily ducks the thrown pillow and places it on the bed behind him.) Ok, now that we've calmed down..? Firstly, new clothes. Secondly, we find a base of operations that isn't going to suck us dry. Thirdly, we keep our eyes open and our heads down &emdash; I haven't heard of a genuine Mutant-initiated attack on this scale since... whenever. Something big must be buried in this town, somewhere, and if it is of any use to us, I want it.

(There is an unspoken agreement here, everyone present knows what Elle is talking about so it's unnecessary to say more.)

Elle: Right, I'll go get a job since keeping us in funds seems to be my forte &emdash; could you please keep our eyes out for, well, you know?

(As De goes off to the bathroom, Elle hunkers down with a couple of expensive-looking laptops. Over in the corner, AG flicks through the papers, jotting down places to rent and anything that seems relevant.)

(Music: I Disappear &emdash; Limp Bizkit.)

(See: The Trio looking around at a house.)

(Elle signing a check with a guy that has "Real Estate Scum" painted all over him.)

(De shopping, pushing a cart and looking less than impressed each second.)

(AG handing Elle a list, Elle wincing.)

(De with a huge pile of groceries in tow. Not happy doesn't begin to cover her expression.)

(The Trio sitting on boxes in an empty house eating Chinese take-away. All are reading as they eat, chopsticks a blur of activity. Elle has his head covered in plastic wrap.)

(Next day: the whole Trio shopping.)

(Cut to AG looking at a Pet Store.)

(Small sign in the window: "Order your Ducklings today!")

(Elle and De gently moving AG from the store window.)

(Cut to Elle having not much luck for clothes &emdash; if you're outside the norm, clothes are a bitch.)

(Cut to AG, staring at the Pet Store again.)

(Elle and De removing AG from the store.)

(De picking clothes at random, shaking her head, moving on.)

(AG, still staring at the Pet Store.)

(De and Elle frog-marching her away.)

(Cut now to Elle, De and AG eating at the Cranberry Commons Food Court. AG looks sulky, the other two tired and murderous. You guess who looks what.)

AG: (Looking sickeningly cute and sweet and innocent... ) so... no ducks..? [7]

Elle & De: NO!

AG: sheesh. (Turns back to her food.)

De: (Looking over at Elle.) So, what have you lined up?

Elle: Lab Technician at the Municipal Council. It's the usual; soil compaction, concrete strength, engineering stresses, soil, air and water... (He sees eyes glazing over.) Yeah, well, the interview is tomorrow.

AG: g'luck.

Elle: Thanks. (He rubs his hair, which is black.) I remember when I didn't have to... ah, bugger it. (Looks at De.) Ok, have you noticed anything about the crowds today?

De: (Instant analysis.) Mature age groupings &emdash; no teens. I'm thinking emotional trauma and/or shock &emdash; It'd take something of great importance to drag someone who's lived through such an attack outside of their defined "safe zones"...

AG: (Pointing.) like a sale at Cashmans?

(A few very familiar girls walk out, hands full of bags. The other two look to Elle, who is quite still and gazing after the foursome.)

Elle: (Eyes narrowed.) Hmmm, lots of personal-care products, expensive stuff. They're probably the local fashion queens around here. (He lifts a hand.) Hold on...

(Weird zero-in/echo noise effect.)

Quinn: (O/S) Of course you can all come to my place, Mom and Dad are still busy at work and...

Stacy: (O/S, puzzled.) But what about "that girl who lives with you"?

Quinn: (O/S and uncomfortable.) Oh, she's still in the hospital or something, still in shock about Friday.

(Vacuous ohhs and ahhs.)

Elle: (Attention snapping to De and AG.) Ok, the red-head has another girl staying with her, probably some sort of exchange student. That one is in Hospital &emdash; likely due to the actions on Friday. (He pauses, then tries his best to look reasonable.) AG, since you're the only one...?

AG: (Looking annoyed.) i'm not trailing them am i? i've haven't finished lunch!

Elle: Sorry, but you look the closest to "their kind" - there's no hope in sending me and... (Pauses.) ... well...

(De is staring stonily into space.)

Elle: Right.

AG: (Resigned.) cameras?

Elle: Toast them if you want to, I'll fade to find some local banks to cash up at.

(They both look to De, who is drumming her fingers in a way reminiscent of a cat thrashing its tail.)

(Beat.)

De: (Irritated.) Okay, I'll be the damned backup.

Elle: (Honestly.) Thanks.

AG: (Same.) yeah, and do you want me to carry your stuff?

De: (Sighs.) Let's get it over with, shall we? (Nods in the signposted direction of the toilets.)

AG: hold it. (Raises a hand and closes her eyes.) done.

Elle: (Professional interest.) How done?

AG: (Professional reply.) well toasted... (Blinks.) ... spiked the lines.

Elle: Right, I'll see you guys at home &emdash; I'll leave a light on.

(There is emphasis on this last comment, which everyone seems to understand... )

(Later, at night... )

(Elle is working away at a largish laptop &emdash; Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac plays softly in the background. It is quite dark with hastily-hung curtains blocking off any outside light. A small halogen lamp, sticker still attached, throws Elle's thin features into sharp relief, the gentle glow from the computer screen lending only a little in the way of soft light.)

(There is a soft noise and a sudden rush of air rattles loose sheets of paper on the desk. Elle stops what he's doing but carefully doesn't look around...)

Elle: Hey.

AG: (Sounding tired.) hey. De? need a hand?

De: (O/S & Irritable, but trying hard not to be.) I'm ok, or will be as soon as I <FX: Rustles> as I <FX: Louder rustles> find, ah. Got it.

(Sounds of cloth, someone is trying to dress.)

De: (O/S) Right, I'm ok.

(Elle moves around to AG lighting some more lamps and De slumped in a chair looking, well, irritated. The room bathed in sort light, AG perches on a cushy footstool with bags piled next to her. Elle looks at them.)

De: (Explanatory.) Most of it is camouflage, honestly. Had to let the little Queen do something in the shops those four frequented... and this was the safest.

Elle: (Waving it by.) So?

AG: (Ticking points off on her fingers.) shallow, bitchy, power-crazed, fashion-worshipping, perverted, vapid...

De: (Breaking into AG's catalogue of irritation.) Normal teens... apart from the world groaning under the weight of their combined egos.

AG: (Mood-swing: happy.) got some useful info, though!

De: Yeah, that. Okay, about two weeks ago, an undisclosed mutant by name of Brittany Taylor did a "Carrie" on the only High school this hole of a town has...

All: Lawndale High...

AG: yeppers. [8]

Elle: (Thinking aloud.) So, she died "while resisting arrest"?

AG: (Raised eyebrow.)

De: (Same.) Not bad. (Pauses.) But you need to sneer a little more... [9]

AG: (Getting into the story-telling scheme of things.) anyways, something punched a couple o'holes through her chest... in front of a crowd of evacuated students, teachers and other unsavoury sorts... (Looks to De.)

De: (Hands in a shrug.) No one saw anything, apart from a girl falling over with a few holes where there shouldn't be holes.

AG: (Making the motions with her hands.) seek, stab, disappear... whoosh!

Elle: (Rolling eyes.) Great, "Invisible killers in American suburbia, film at 11".

De: (Professionally.) Not really, whatever did it was dammably neat... (A glance from Elle.) Okay... so AG walked by the police station. ...

AG: (Holding up a CD-Rom and an overfull folder.) colour photos!

De: (Unapologetic.) ... A couple of times.

(Elle rubs the bridge of his nose.)

De: Anyway, during her memorial service at school, some guy called Michael Jordan...

Elle & AG: Mackenzie.

Elle: (Aside.) What a name.

AG: (Gleeful.) yeppers!

De: ... Blew a hole through the head of the school QB with some sort of optic energy beam.

(Beat.)

AG: cue mass panic No 2.

Elle: (Mostly to himself.) Good town to stay in...

AG: (Fiendish.) not if you're an optician! (Beat.) wheeee!

(Elle checks his watch, sighs, holds up a chocolate bar and throws it at AG.)

AG: (O/S) MINE!

<FX: mumph! Crumph! Mumurph!>

Elle: (Ignoring the sounds of ravenous frenzy.) Now then. [10]

De: (Same.) Quite. (Starts again.) He disappeared for a night or so but resurfaced in time for the infamous dance. Some other points of interest; he'd been tested, very thoroughly, by a certain organization...

Elle: (Tired.) Operation Wideawake? The GWI? Some other quasi-government organization with an anti-mutant agenda?

De: Amazingly enough, no. The Lawndale Egalitas Laboratories, by one Dr Amy C. Barksdale.

(The noises from AG cease.)

AG: how in hell did a town like this come to have testing facilities like THAT?

Elle: (Wondering similar thoughts.) A bloody good question... (Pauses.) Barksdale, where have I heard that?

De: (Instant reply.) Famous Anti-GWI, was in the papers... if you actually READ them.

Elle: Ok, point taken. What else?

AG: some more stuff, mostly useless.

De: Yeah, the Police didn't want the herd more spooked than it already is, kept things from themselves...

(AG nods vigorously.)

De: The local cops think that there were 10, maybe 11 mutants actually attacking. A few others, like our football hero, seem to have come out of the woodwork when things heated up... (She leaves it hanging.)

Elle: (Expressionless.) Sounds impressive. (Dry.) What really happened?

De: Figure three, possibly four attackers &emdash; they had everything to themselves when the X in this equation bit them on the ass.

Elle: Motives, ID?

De: No motive yet, possibly a terrorist act in the literal meaning of the phrase. Some partial ID's... which you are going to love...

AG: (Looking around for some caffeine.) does it involve ducks?

De: (With finality.) No. Three of the partials were faculty, school teachers...

Elle: (Incredulous.) No way. Statistically that's as likely as... god, I don't know. Something hugely unlikely.

AG: (O/S, distant, getting something.) once again, your descriptive powers amaze!

De: Kinda screws with the whole "Mutant = One in a million" best-guess by government statisticians, doesn't it? (Changing topic.) The other, a definite, was a then-enrolled student... Charles Ruttheimer III.

Elle: (Being him.) It was probably the name that drove him over the edge. (False joy.) So now is the part where you give me the happy news that his mutant ability is to grow flowers so that the high pollen-count leaves people wheezing and helpless?

De: (Flat.) Nope.

AG: (Sipping something out of a can, ticks them off on her fingers.) prehensile tongue, superhuman agility, massive leg strength, spits... well, "phlegm" that hardens on contact with air...

Elle: (Brightly.) What a charming fellow!

De: Yeah, the police also identified Timothy O'Neill &emdash; not sure what his "superpower" is, but he taught English. A possible on the gym teacher - Samantha Morris, she had a "Mr Fantastic" bendy-stretchy thing but was apparently knocked unconscious when (Reads from a interview report.) "Some big lightning toasted her good" &emdash; according to some moron called Jesse Moreno.

AG: sounded promising...

DE: Oh, and some beast-man throwback; name of Anthony DeMartino &emdash; History.

Elle: (Puzzled.) He died?

De: Taught it. (Smiles without any mirth.) And something else you're going to enjoy...

Elle: (Wary.) If it's anything like that web-site I visited..?

De: Ple-ease. (Drops some photos in front of Elle.) Notice anything..?

Elle: (Offhandedly.) Parallel slashes, made by... well, I was going to say an "edged weapon", but about the only thing I know that cuts that clean is a surgical laser or... (Big pause.) No way.

De: Adamantium. (Suggestive eyebrow activity.) Betcha. [11]

Elle: (Referring to the eyebrows.) Please don't do that. (Looking over at the pictures again.) I surrender to your knowledge of edged weapons, but Adamantium is harder to find in the free market than weapons-grade Plutonium &emdash; not to mention being a hell of a lot more expensive. (Pause.) And someone's running around with an Adamantium blade of some sort...

AG: (Looking happy.) three!

Elle: (Looking up from the photos.) I am going to regret this...

De: (Also looking happy... it's a scary thing.) All the cuts in this scene were parallel, or angled to the same degree. Ipso facto - Three cutting edges, fixed in place, did this.

AG: (To Elle.) so, can you guess how big these things are?

Elle: (Stares at a few photos.) Hmmm, a foot, maybe more. (Thinks on what he said, winces.)

De: (Breathes it.) Three feet of Adamantium...

AG: (Looking over.) De, you're drooling.

(Glare from De.)

AG: figuratively.

Elle: (Working it through.) In anyone's estimation, that's a lot of cutlery to hide... not to mention the metal-detectors at the school. (Various snorts.) No, if the person is a student, they'd have to pass through every day... (As he says this, his eyes fall on some other photos and he stops.) Uh-oh.

(He holds up 2 pictures, on of a wall that, for a brief moment, had DeMartino in front of it, and one of Brittany Taylor... Of her back, while she's face-down at the crime-scene.)

AG: (Lightly.) oh. three holes.

De: (Distant.) Same MO, same attacker.

AG: curiouser and curiouser.

Elle: I'll forget for a moment just how wrong that phrase is and blind you with my genius...

AG: (Hopeful.) are you going to make coffee using orange juice again? hold on while i get a camera!

Elle: No. (Pauses as AG sits, disappointed.) I thought ahead and organised a few things, concentrating on places where information would be more likely found...

De: (Holding her hand up for a folder that Elle produced from the shadows.) ... and that had computer records that were easy to hack, right?

(Letting this one pass, Elle just shrugs and settles back as the two read through a thick folder each, AG grinning madly, De reading the same front page over and over... )

De: (Still hasn't progressed further.) No way in this lifetime and no way in any hell.

AG: (Casting a glance over De's folder contents, grins harder.) wot you worried about? it'll be fun!

De: (Waves the folder at Elle.) For pulling shit like this, I really wonder why I haven't killed you yet...

Elle: (Leans back and relaxes.) I'm the only one who can easily hack secure bank accounts for funds?

(Pause.)

AG: (Sotto.) he's got you there.

De: <FX: Grrrrrrr.>

(Next morning, bright and sunny. [Yuck.] Music: "Here" &emdash; Vast.)

(Elle ironing an "Interview Outfit". You know the type.)

(AG at a "Mr Coffee", draining a cup.)

(She fills cup with fresh coffee, drains it.)

(Repeats.)

(And again... )

(A mound of blankets, not moving, even as curtains are thrown wide open.)

(AG & Elle hauling the blankets off De.)

(AG & Elle backing away with their hands above their heads.)

(De slumped in her bed/nest/cave, aiming a large gun at her companions.)

(Elle rechecking a résumé in the kitchen. He looks over to find AG loading a backpack with cola beverages, candy bars, chocolate, "energy drinks", coffee beans, chocolate-covered coffee beans, etc... )

(Elle sighing when he opens a pantry door to find empty boxes, torn packaging and assorted wrappers.)

(AG wearing a simple black jean/grey T-shirt combo with her hair in 2 pigtails. Elle glances over, then looks down. Cue a raised eyebrow.)

(On AG's feet are massive metal-tipped motorcycle "tour" boots.)

Elle: The cowboy ones, maybe. Those? Nope.

AG: But I don't know where the other spur is!

Elle: (Gestures.) Then go with the Docs!

(The music swings into the beaty part as De makes her entrance. Her expression dares anyone to make a smart comment and does not soften when Elle hands her a steaming mug. Finally AG breaks in.)

AG: there is no use wasting that glare on us: we're not stupid enough to make things more irritating than they already are.

De: (With a black glare at Elle.) No comment. (Pause.) Are we all quite ready? I'd hate to be late on my first day...

(Lawndale High establishing shot. Elle's driving off, leaving a sugar-enriched AG to run through the main doors and De to stand, frozen, where she got out. After a few seconds, she shakes her head and walks briskly towards the school.)

De: I am going to KILL him.

(She enters, briefcase in hand.)

(Cut to Jane, Jodie and the visored Mack walking into a classroom. By the familiar walls, it's English, or Language Arts, depending on how "Progressive" LHS is feeling this year. Both Jodie and Mack are bruised somewhat, Mack walking a little stiffly.)

Jodie: Sooo, is she ok?

Jane: (Lightly.) Well, if finding out that your lightest touch can put someone in a coma, Daria's doing great. (Jodie winces, but Jane doesn't stop.) Tom, on the other hand, isn't so happy about things. (Half-second pause.) Of course, I'm only guessing here since he's still catatonic and can't comment for himself. [12]

(Jodie and Mack both wince.)

Jane: (Disgusted.) Hell, don't mind me, tact is something that I choose not to exercise right about now (Jodie and Mack exchange a glance. Jodie nods.)

Mack: (Apropos of "nothing".) I can't believe that Ms Li still won't close the school... I mean, after what's happened...

Jane: (Bitter.) Columbine got a couple of weeks... (Glances over.) Good change of topic, Mack. (Sighs.) Don't worry too much, I'm having to exercise my skills as nay-sayer while Daria takes an involuntary leave of absence. (Seats herself and drags out a book.) Any word on our teacher yet?

Jodie: (Looking around at a shrunken class.) Not sure, after the dance, the faculty have been background-scanned, gene-tested and the rest, civil rights be dammed.

Mack: (Surprised, looking at the ceiling.) Not worried about..? (He nods.)

Jodie: (Weary amusement.) The whole network is too damaged, by the fires and by "Friday", to be of any use. (Lovely grin.) And I heard that from the dragon's maw...

Jane: (Sly.) Walking from the homeroom?

Jodie: (Holds up a hand.) That I can neither confirm, or deny...

(A sudden slam of heavy books on the front desk startles the class into paying attention.)

De: (Frozen.) Good...Morning... Class. (She shivers in revulsion: the Karma Police are going to book her for this.)

(Class view of De, in a slow pan up.)

(She's wearing boots of some description under a multilayered dress of spiderwebby stuff with a plush velvet hem. It smoothly translates into a scooped oval front top, which shows off a collection of necklaces, among other things... We can see this because she's shrugged off a leather jacket and hung it carefully over the back of her chair.)

(As De straightens, it is obvious that the mass of unruly brown hair has been mercilessly restricted into a thick ponytail &emdash; a bone hair-comb helps to hold one side in place. She removes her usual sunglasses and replaces them for a pair of red-tinted oval reading glasses.)

(All this appearance of bohemian good will is at war with her expression of "Give me an excuse and I'll kill you.")

(And yes, she's in black.)

(Totally.)

De: (Her expression coming through in her voice.) I'm Dana Rivers. (Beat.) And as of today, I'm your teacher.

(General class expression: "O-kaaaay... ")

De: (Sorting books into place as she stares the class into submission.) Just a few words before I start...

(Meaningful pause, she's got their attention and they know it.)

De: I've just gone through a couple of hours of invasive testing, I'm suffering from a severe case of caffeine withdrawal and I simply hate this school. (Pauses.) In fact, I hate all schools. (Pauses to really stress this.) To be honest, I hate teaching and if anyone has a problem with this, please inform someone who cares, or who will even listen. I won't. And any jocks who made it through academic probation on "buys" had better learn to read without the use of your index finger &emdash; this isn't a remedial class and I will stick anyone who doesn't make the grade in one until they can function in here. (Some heavy-set types start to look animated, then expressionless as her gaze marks their places, faces and preparedness.)

De: If I set homework, which will be rare because I hate grading, it will be done or I want a note from whatever gods you worship. (She lays out some pens like they're dissection instruments. She looks up and intensifies the glare.) In here, I am the be-all and end-all of your leaning process: - make it painful for me and I will return the favour... Questions?

Nose-Chain Boy: (Nervous.) Ahh, can I go to the bathroom?

De: Certainly. (Some looks of relief.) But if you're not back in 15 minutes I will scream for the overmuscled thugs that your principal, Commandant Li, employs as security. They will be instructed to drag you through the school, naked if need be, before handcuffing you to your desk. (Smiles sweetly - it's scarier than the "I will kill" look.) Still want to go?

(Terrified nod.)

De: Go.

(He runs off.)

De: I'll be starting a new section since your previous teacher decided to run off and rule the world without leaving me his lesson-plan.

(A few people choke at this.)

(Close up: Jodie's really not sure how to deal with it, Mack is just sitting back and watching the show while Jane pays strict attention.)

De: (Looking around from the board she was about to write on.) What? Telling the truth won't endanger the thin fabric of society as you know it. Now, this is going to be called "Intolerance; dealing with different differences." (Beat.) I apologise for the alliteration.

De: (Turns to scan the class.) Oh, one more thing; if you want to take notes, great. If you don't want to pass, keep vegetating.

(The class goes "active".)

(Cut to Jane, Jodie and Mack, looking more than a little shocked as they walk out. Music: "When Worlds Collide" &emdash; POWERMAN 5000.)

Jodie: Well.

Mack: (Sounding stunned.) Is it just me, or did I actually learn something in there today? (They stride off.)

Jane: (A bit distant.) That choke-hold was new, I admit.

Jodie: (Knowing that Jane isn't joking.) I think Mack was referring to the actual class.

Jane: Oh, yeah, that too. (Blinks.) To be honest, my brain kind of shut down after it got stuck on the same question.

Mack: (Knowing what Jane is reaching for.) "How did someone like that get a job, here?"

De: (O/S, coming up from behind.) Necessity. Frau Li has kind of pissed off the Country Education Department a few too many times, so she had to take what was available... (De stalks by the shocked trio.)

De: (Sounds disgusted.) Of course, I'd be much happier if I didn't have to take what was available either. (Looks over.) Where's Basic Spanish?

Jane: (Recovers first.) Ah, past that wing, second portable to the right. (Pauses.) So you teach Spanish, too?

De: (Waves a hand.) Looking like I do, was there ever a doubt? (Nods to Jane as she reaches the cross-corridor.) Thanks.

(She picks up the pace, boot-nails crunching into the institution floor.)

(A few seconds pass.)

Jane: (She's been thinking about it, you can tell.) You know, underneath all that rabid cougar exterior, there's probably a decent, caring, human being.

Mack: (Truthfully.) I am not brave enough to find out.

Jane: (Same.) Did I say I was?

(O/S: some distant and unintelligible Spanish, screamed. Spanish is good for screaming, like Russian is for bellowing... )

(Jane listens for a few seconds, then her eyes go wide. She hurries along Mack and Jodie.)

Jodie: What's wrong?

Jane: (Empathic.) You don't want to stick around to find out.

(O/S: more distant noises; crashes, some minor property destruction... )

Jane: (Urgent.) Move, people!

Jodie: (O/S, being hustled away by Ms Lane.) Why, what's wrong?

Jane: (O/S) It's just that you don't make threats like that if you can't carry them out...

(More distant cries of people who cannot believe what just walked in the door.)

Jodie & Mack: (O/S) Oh.

(Fade with what may well be screams of mercy... )

(Later, at the "Trio Hideout", Elle is flicking through some photocopied documentation while AG finishes off a book report. Without looking around, Elle ducks a thrown briefcase, which impacts on a new table with a meaty thud. AG looks up in vague curiosity then goes back to dissecting "Brave New World". Muttered curses in a variety of languages float out from behind Elle as he holds out a large glass for De, who is looking less than amused.)

Elle: (Mildly.) Rough day?

De: (Grim.) If that's not alcoholic, you die. (Takes and swigs a large portion of the glass. After a few seconds, there is a shuddering breath from De.) Whoa... that's evil stuff. (Elle holds up an unlabelled bottle.) Nope, if I have any more, I'll resemble my more gifted students. [13]

(She crashes on a plastic-coated sofa and works some kinks out while Elle and AG come around to listen comfortably.)

De: (Looking at the sofa.) Been busy?

Elle: (Shrugs.) Thought you'd need it, or something similar.

De: (Blinks her eyes.) No, what I need is a few hours alone with most of my classes, and an axe. (At their looks.) I forgot how stupid people could be...

AG: (Dry/manic.) and people say that the old skills are being neglected..?

De: Don't start. (She looks over at the books on the table, specifically "Brave New World".) That's ironic. Ok, the school was built on an old felting plant, and it goes downhill from there. Everyone's underpaid, underqualified and overworked. Our glorious principal must be Idi Amin's half-sister or something... she's got major issues and a fetish for security systems that is quite disturbing. The food is... well, I just won't go there. (Pause.) And the available learning materials are ancient, outmoded or falling apart, at best.

Elle: And the bad news?

De: Nobody knows nothing about mutant activity. Or anything else, for that matter.

Elle: Well, somebody does, this town is about as strange as it gets before being featured on "Sick Sad World".

AG: (Batting her eyelids.) pray tell?

Elle: This little chunk of suburbia has had more digging, excavation and building restructuring than anything I've ever heard of. My section has a ten-year backlog of approvals; forget about building anything here, by the time your soil analysis came back your house would have been swallowed by a sinkhole two years before.

De: Meaning..?

Elle: Someone in this town moves a lot of dirt around, in both the physical and the political senses. Instance: Lawndale High, once a Felting Plant, now a haven for young scholars... if you don't mind the occasional strange skin lesion. That place weeps mercury, but it's still in operation. [14]

Ag: (Looking at her arms.) so, by "weeps mercury" you mean..?

Elle: Stick a glass tube in the ground and in a few minute's time, you've got a thermometer.

De: It couldn't be that bad... (She trails off as the expression on Elle's face does not change.) It is?

Elle: Don't know who they're paying to ignore it, but this place is going to be worse than the "Love Canal" disaster. I'm just waiting for a three-eyed fish to make its appearance and I'll die happy. (Beat, evil.) Probably from massive renal failure...

De: (Mental sigh.) As amusing as this is..?

Elle: Ok, I was looking for somewhere to start &emdash; I'd swap with you in a second, De &emdash; and found the school blueprints... I say the "school" because that's what the little yellow post-it said, after it was pasted over the "Miller and Son's Fine Felt" Logo. Anyway, it was going to be a municipal bomb-shelter during the "red-terror" of the 50's and an awful lot of dirt was removed to make a nice new playing field for the town... and to provide a level foundation for the company's expansion plans.

AG: but?

Elle: Ironically, people became worried about how heavy industry would affect their lifestyles, and they chose to buy out the plant and make a school out of it. Nice flat area, close to town, room for sports and maybe some room for a library...

De: (Dry.) And you sneer so well...

Elle: Laugh it up, I'm pretty sure that place still has asbestos insulation. (Pauses.) But getting back to the dirt...

AG: (Brightly.) please do, this is all so fascinating...

Elle: (Trying for an example.) Ok, you look at a hill and go...

AG: ... i'm not going to climb up that when i can drive?

Elle: (Rubs bridge of his nose.) Let's not and say we did. (Beat.) Ok, I look at a hill, and think "artificial hillock" &emdash; landscaping.

De: (The voice of reason.) They DID have a quarry here...

Elle: (Matter-of-fact.)... Which is now mostly on the east coast, as cement.

AG & De: Oh.

Elle: There's been enough excavation in and around Lawndale High to fill a couple of malls, but who forks out the money to do it and why? I mean, there is not much need for big underground caverns and the bomb-shelter market has been depressed for decades...

De: Elle?

Elle: Hmm?

De: You are severely weird, but you may have a lead in your little air-conditioned hole. (Chooses to investigate another source of information.) AG?

AG: weeeeell, all those who were mutants before the big night are even more in the way of outcasts now &emdash; but that is to be expected. (Looks over to De.) you are 100% on the security thing, i've never seen so many cameras, or felt them...

(Looks of total seriousness on Elle and De's faces.)

De: So?

AG: mostly military, possibly surplus but there is a lot that feels brand-new... or did feel brand-new, someone has done a good job of nuking the wired-in network into so much plastic goop.

Elle: So, it wasn't due to the fires they had previously?

AG: do these little lips tell lies? someone with a pretty massive affinity for electrical systems - or electrical energy - ran some heavy juice down the line and "poof!", no more security network.

De: Police never did figure out what some of the attackers were there for..?

Elle: Hmm, sounds like something worth following up, you play with that and I'll try and figure out who was the uber-gopher in a past life...

(Early Morning, not much in the way of sun, still semi-dark. Music: "I'm Dying" &emdash; Vast. Elle runs into a dark room and grabs something off the bed. Protests and dire threats follow his progress out the door.)

(Now at an upper-storey window, he's staring at something while De tries in vain to open her eyes enough to that she can kill him. She gives up and slumps beside the window.)

De: (Tired, irritated and when awake, homicidal. In a rasp.) Do you want to tell me what you're doing at this hour of the morning while you still have a throat?

Elle: I'm looking at the reason why we drove to this soulless suburban hive, my endearingly bloodthirsty companion.

(De snatches up some binoculars from Elle's outstretched hand.)

De: (Still raspy.) If this is some bored housewife getting her kicks with the curtains open I... holy crap, I teach that girl!

(View from the binoculars: the distant form of Jane darting among the clouds. It sharpens and for a brief moment she's seen clearly before disappearing into the meteorology.)

(Draw the shot back to show similar expressions of shock/amazement.)

Elle: (Disbelieving.) Yerwhat? [15]

De: (Same.) Jane Lane, I teach her English. (Blinks.) Pretty smart, very normal in a suburban bohemia sort of way. (Pause.) Now that's a surprise.

Elle: So are we talking about a "hating the established system, anarchist train-wrecker"..?

De: Nope. Worried about her Math, likes to draw in class - any class - and is able to hold an intelligent conversation.

Elle: (Very dry.) I don't know what's scarier, "Thunderchild" up there... (A crack of lightning punctuates his words.) ... or your transformation into an authority figure.

(As De replaces the binoculars, she none-to-gently elbows Elle.)

AG: (Coming in rubbing eyes, her other hand holding a steaming mug.) hey, what's up?

Elle: (Looking out, rubbing ribs. Conversationally.) Someone called Jane Lane. She's flying.

AG: (Same.) oh, Jane? hmmm, i thought Jodie would be a mystery mutant.

Elle: (Turns to face her.) What?

De: (Still looking out the window.) Jodie Landon? (Stares hard, then shifts to scan another quarter. To herself.) Now what?

AG: (Arch.) oh, yes. even though she's this totally normal massive overachiever, there's always been something, different, about her...

Elle: (Flat.) You started at the school yesterday.

AG: (Coming clean.) ... that and i saw her drop a pen... which floated back to her desk.

Elle: Oh. (Pause.) So, telekinetic?

AG: (Bored now.) or magnokinetic, or able to control gravity, or able to warp time...

Elle: Okay, okay. I get the hint.

De: (Urgently.) People, you are not going to believe this.

AG: wot now?

Elle: (Being perverse.) Elvis?

AG: (Same, grinning.) apollo in his chariot?

De: SHUT UP and come look at the Big Flying Robots! [16]

(Beat.)

AG: (Having elbowed her way between the other two at the window, another pair of binoculars handy.) that's new.

Elle: (Gazing up.) Agreed. Do you see any distinguishing marks?

De: (False joy.) Maybe, this one has a return postal address... (Normal.) What in hell do you think I am?

Elle: (Quickly.) Not-saying-anything-on-the-grounds-it-may-endanger-my-life.

AG: smart.

De: (Ignoring them, for the time being.) Ok, I count two of them, flying in some sort of lead/wingman formation... doing what?

Elle: Same numbers here... maybe a patrol?

AG: and wot in hell do those things run on?

De: (Returning the perversity.) Windows TM?

(Groans at this one.)

Elle: (Sounding worried.) Okay... they seen to have picked up our little weathergirl.

(Seen: The large humanoid forms of the robots swing around on a new heading. They're in an awful combination of pink and purple, with two arms, two legs, a head, etc. Even in the air, they give the impression of bring cumbersome.)

De: And Jane hasn't seen them. (Pause.) Is anyone else getting a bad feeling?

Elle: I read you, Han. (Not in vague curiosity.) AG, can you do anything from here?

AG: (Worried, unlike our usual manic caffeine addict.) not from this distance, and the lightning would screw anything up on the way...

Elle: (Makes a decision.) I'm going to get a few things, scream if it gets more interesting. (He runs downstairs.)

(In the early-morning sky, Jane being at one with the elements; doing flips, turns, dives and just enjoying herself immensely. After a few seconds, she levels off and stops in mid-air. She drags something out and looks at the display.)

Jane: (Changing the batteries on her Discman.) Now, if I could only learn to shove twenty billion gigavolts into a simple battery, I'd be happy. (Music re-fuelled, she takes to the winds again.)

(A different point of view &emdash; a red monochrome that cuts through the swirling clouds to focus on a certain frequent flyer... )

Sentinel 1: (V/O) ... Positive Mutant Act observed.

Sentinel 2: (V/O) ... Engaging database search for possible mutant registry... Match not found.

Sentinel 1: (V/O) ... Subject is in violation of the Mutant Registry And Control Act.

Sentinel 2: (V/O) ... Subject must be captured, evaluated and processed in accordance with Act 2346.1c.

Sentinel 1: (V/O) ... Capture Mode on.

Sentinel 2: (V/O) ... Compliance.

De & AG: Elle!

De: (Urgently.) Big change in speed, things are not looking friendly!

Elle: (O/S, strained.) Coming! <Whack!> Ah, god... damn corners.

(Elle runs into the room carrying a VERY large gun with difficulty. It's your everyday space-age megaweapon, think one of those MiB cannons mated with something Arnie would carry.)

AG: geeze!

De: And you keep that thing in the house?!

Elle: Not loaded. (Sets up a sort of bipod on the windowsill and sights through a large eyepiece.) Ohh, not good, I've got hot-weapon energy readings here. (Pauses.) Oh, crap.

(High above Lawndale, Jane finishes a perfect spin to stare into an inhuman face of the Robotic Sentinel. Emotionless cameras record her every move as the other Sentinel pulls up to hover alongside.)

Jane: (Amazed.) Eeep!

Sentinel 1: (Aiming a hand in her direction. In a typical "Big Robot Voice".) Unregistered Mutant, you are in violation of the Mutant Registry and Control Act. It is necessary to evaluate and process you in accordance with said act. Follow us at a reasonable speed and we shall escort you to the relevant authorities. Failure to comply with the said directives will result in the use of reasonable force.

Jane: What in hell ARE you?

Sentinel 2: (Same voice.) Failure to comply noted, engaging reasonable force... (It moves a hand in Jane's direction and a large weapon's port irises open in the palm of the hand.)

(The same greatly magnified view of the hand through an electronic scope. Everything seems to slow down and a nozzle of some weapon slowly is made ready at the hand.)

(Aerial view of some houses: an angry pink/purple beam flashes from a nondescript window, lasting only a fraction of a second.)

(Back to Jane, as the same beam neatly removes the threatening hand of the second Sentinel and decapitates the first Sentinel.)

Jane: (As the beam narrowly misses her.) Yarrgh! (Dives for cover.)

(As the beheaded Sentinel falls to the ground far below, the second looks after Jane.)

Sentinel 2: (V/O) ... Under attack, require assistance in apprehension of perpetrators. (Pause.) Capture of Unregistered Mutant still possible. Engaging capture.

(As it dives for Jane, she swoops away and gains altitude.)

Sentinel 2: (V/O) ... Unregistered Mutant attempting to evade capture.

(Jane is very high now but stops.)

Sentinel 2: (V/O) ... Unregistered Mutant has stopped. Capturing.

AG: can't you do something?

Elle: (Leaning out of the window with an air of desperate reason, holding that big, heavy gun up and trying to aim without much success... ) Well, I'm not sure if this thing's powercells are still up for another shot and if I do shoot, I'm likely to vaporise that kid because of the angle. So do me a favour, shut up and look out for any interested bystanders, will you?

(The Sentinel is closing in on Jane, who has her palms pressed together before her.)

Sentinel 2: (V/O) ... Effecting capture of Unregistered Mutant. (Pauses.) Sudden fluctation of EM field, readings indicate...

(Jane opens her eyes, revealing total whiteness.)

Sentinel 2: (V/O) ... Severe storm conditions. (Pauses.) Small craft advisory... [17]

(With an arched back, Jane brings down all the fury of tetravolt electricity in the form of a massive lightning bolt that passes through the Sentinel, blowing panels open.)

<FX: Kraaaacka-BOOOOOOM!>

AG, Elle & De: WHOA!

(Smoking and crackling, the no-longer animated Sentinel falls to the earth, far below. With a glance at the falling robot, Jane spins on her heel and dives for places elsewhere.)

(Inside the Trio Hideout. Elle disengages a few switches and the humming weapon subsides into silence - which there is a lot of. An angry rain starts to hammer down on Lawndale, almost loud enough to drown out the tons of metal impacting in the deserted parking-lot of the Cranberry Mall.)

De: (Goes to say something, pauses and glances over at Elle.) Nice shot, by the way.

Elle: (Distant.) Thanks.

AG: (Focussing on what's important.) i'm going for coffee, who's coming?

(They troop downstairs, after Elle closes the window against the strengthening rain.)

(Music: "Good Fortune" : P.J. Harvey. Cut to Jane landing in the Lane backyard, wiping back hair already sodden. There is an impressive roll of thunder as she goes inside.)

De: (O/S, voiceover off scene.) Well, Ms Lane is a mutant.

(Cut to Jane in the kitchen, digging through cupboards looking for something to eat.)

Elle: (O/S, voiceover off scene.) And it looks like someone with the Lego set from hell has watched too many anime movies.

(Jane finding some pop-tarts that haven't escaped, or turned to dust, or evolved into intelligent life...)

A.G.:(O/S, voiceover off scene.) nasty big robots.

(Jane placing breakfast in the toaster, after shaking it vigorously over the sink to dislodge ancient toast, knives, forks, rats...)

De: (O/S, voiceover off scene.) So, what?

(Jane engaging in coffee-worship)

Elle: (O/S, voiceover off scene.) If those robot things have found Jane, chances are they'll do it again.

(Jane wanders around the kitchen, listening to the increasing rain.)

A.G.: (O/S, voiceover off scene.) so we follow her, wait for another show and...

(The pop-tarts pop, making Jane jump.)

De: (O/S, voiceover on scene.) Exactly.

(Cut to the Lane interior, Jane wandering upstairs still munching on the tart. As she passes Trent's room, he staggers out rubbing his eyes.)

Trent: Hey, Janey.

Jane: Hey.

Trent: (Looking at her hair.) Hmmm, raining out?

Jane: (Squeezing some water.) Could be, Trent, could be...

Trent: No real reason to get up then. (He staggers back into the pit that passes for his bedroom. O/S) Morning Jane.

Jane: (This being a usual day for the Lanes.) Morning, Trent.

The usual footnotes.

[1] This is the best description of Desanera I could supply, without her flying over with a jar of red-ants and some honey.

[2] Ditto for Aradia, but she'd probably just shave me and then let the goblins do strange things...

[3] This is normal for Desanera...when she wakes up, I mean.

[4] Aradia's charm is best appreciated with her usual method of communication &emdash; a total lack of capitals, spelling, punctuation... plus it really gets across her little "Manic Queen of Goblins" persona.

[5] The "Unholy Trio" came about more as a joke than anything else on various "Daria" message-boards... it seems that like called to like and, well, here we are; weird, manic, blood-thirsty caffeine-addicts without much in the way of normality. Since these things have a life of their own, I'm now the "Queen of Pain", due in part to Desanera's love of edged weapons (All Hail the Queen of Blades!) and Aradia's love of the Jim Henson "Labyrinth" movie. (wheee! i am the goblin queeen! where's a duck?) There were two other Queens...so I had to be one. This method of logic has to be experienced to be believed.

[6] Character made up by Rancour in his "MTV Mutants 1: Safest Emergency" &emdash; the inspiration for this fic. Go read it, eh?

[7] This is reference to Aradia's shaved Duck Fetish. Don't look at me like that, I don't have to make this stuff up.

[8] This is a common exclamation by our little Queen of the Goblins.

[9] I've said far less tasteful things, at far more inopportune moments. Put it this way: I'm the guy reading the aircraft disaster book next to you, in the air, when you're in the middle of a stormy landing. And I'm laughing...

[10] Some explanation might be necessary here: Aradia has an exotic and constant craving for mood-altering drugs... but in her case anything tends to do the job so chocolate, caffeine and in severe cases, cold-medicine, are used. This is documented fact.

[11] Another explanation. In the Marvel Comics Universe there is the mysterious metal called Adamantinum. It's magnetic, it doesn't rust and is the strongest and sharpest metal by a few orders of magnitude. Captain America's shield is a 50/50 mix of Adamantinum/ Vibrantium (Another mysterious metal.) and when given an edge, Adamantinum can literally cut through anything - cars, diamonds, week-old pizza... anything. The thought of Desanera with some scares even me.

[12] If you read Rancour's work, you'd know this.

[13] This is my impression of Desanera let loose on the school system. You may throw money or run.

[14] This pleasant information can be found at MTV's "Lawndale High" website.

[15] Expression of surprise. Translation: "You what?" in Australian.

[16] This is lifted from Crazy Nutso's current Tag-line/signature. I had to use it, it was so appropriate.

[17] Yes, this was taken from a certain song... "You and me babe, we're nothing but mammals... "

Elle: Right-o spanky, lets get...lateral.

(The Trio materialize out of the treeline, directly in the path that Amy was planning to take with Andrea.)

De: (Into the surprised silence.) Well, if it isn't the clichéd benevolent mastermind. (She yawns.)

Elle: (Looking at the frozen tableau before them.) Which one?

De: (Nods in "Armchair Amy's" direction.) Dr Hawkings over there.

Amy: (Very calm.) It's Amy, actually.

De: (Tapping her fingers restlessly.) Yes, yes. Amy Charlotte Barksdale. Strong Anti-GWI proponent, open-handed benefactor to various charities and now the wheeled version of Hannibal from the "A-Team".

(Amy scoots her chair around to get a better view of the unexpected guests. Mack puts his hand to his visor but takes a less overt stance with a look from Amy. Jodie and Jane stare while Daria and the unconscious Andrea remain motionless.)

Amy: (Best imperious commander voice.) And you are?

Elle: (Pointing to himself.) I'm Lopsy, she's Flopsy (A.G. Grins and waves madly.) ...And the sullen one over here is Peter Cottontail.

De: (Gives Elle the "look".) Funny.

Jane: (To Jodie, aside.) You'd think they'd dream up better aliases.

A.G.:(Proving to have excellent hearing.) wot's wrong wit' FlopsyyeeeeOWWWW!?

(The trio clutch respective heads and a muttered monologue of curses erupt from De. After a while, in which an expression of amazement makes itself at home on Amy's face, they straighten up.)

Mack: (Seeing the change in expressions...) Uhhh, Amy?

(De takes two steps and disappears into the shadows underneath the trees. A.G. looks grim and lets a fall of sparks flow smoothly from one hand to the other. Elle shakes his head and moves slightly to the fore...incidentally allowing A.G. to guard his back.)

Elle: (Sounding very sore.) Well, at least one thing is sorted out...

(With a leap that crosses the distance between Amy and the Trio faster than anyone can react, he's perched on the arms of the wheelchair and has Amy by the throat. In his other hand is a large gun of unfamiliar type, a close relative of the monster energy-weapon that was used on the Sentinels with such effectiveness.)

Elle: (Mainly for his audience.) Dr Amy here is also a telepath...and going by the size of the headache I have, a bloody powerful one.

(He winces again, lifts Amy by the throat and head-butts her. While that little party-favour sinks in, he hoists her to his eye-height, places the muzzle of the weapon beneath her chin and does something with the weapon. It makes an ugly whining sound.)

Elle: (Casual menace.) And if you try anything like that again, I will spread your oh-so-powerful mind over the landscape, understand? (He loosens his grip enough so that she can nod.)

Mack: Amy! (Still posed with his visor, but Elle is positioned so that anything would pass through Amy first.) Uuh!

(He's struck from behind and pushed on his face, his visor floating in mid-air for a second before vanishing. As Jodie automatically goes to help, she's pushed on top. Mack grunts at the weight and impact, but keeps his eyes very tightly closed. Jodie's struggles to get up cease as soon as the now-visible De eases a weapon similar to Elle's behind her ear and holds her steady.)

De: (Reasonable. This is scary.) Now, Mack. Since opening your eyes right now would mean the random destruction of, well, Jodie, I suggest you make yourself comfortable and shut the hell up.

Jane: (Watching, amazed. To Amy.) Now what? It's pretty obvious that you've pissed them off somehow... and that they've got the drop on us.

Daria: (Still recovering from Andrea.) Urck. Not to mention being too close to everyone for any of that impressive lightning display of yours...

Jane: (Duh! expression.) Uhh, I hadn't thought that far ahead...

De: (Rolling her eyes.) Try to.

Daria: (Holding up both gloved hands.) Wait.

Elle: Always listening for a voice of reason. (He glances over to Daria, but his grip doesn't change with Amy.) I'm listening now... Miss?

Daria: Daria Morgandoffer. I'm Amy's niece.

Elle: (Polite.) Pleased, to be sure...

A.G. hi!!! (Waves.)

Elle: ... But, (With a look towards A.G, ignored.) I'm starting to grow more than a little irritated here &emdash; could we hurry along the pleasantries, hmmm?

Daria: Ok, I'm going to assume that Amy tried to read your mind and what you somehow... what?

De: (To the point.) Pissed us off.

A.G.: (Muttered.) short trip.

Elle: (Trying to ignore the byplay with his Companions.) In any case... we resent the attempt and are indicating our displeasure. (Moves Amy's head up with the gun underneath her chin. He's still holding her, by the way.)

Mack: (Eyes tightly closed.) So, oww, what was with the ambush?

Jane: (Thinking.) To stop any would-be-hero types from making things worse?

Elle: (Genuinely impressed.) Nice, people here actually think instead of automatically using their minds. (He glares at Amy a little more, then drops her back into the chair. He steps off backwards as Amy rubs her throat, to have a still-sparkling A.G. close up behind.)

Amy: (Coughs, rubs throat.) Point taken. (Rubs some more.)

De: (Drags Jodie to her feet and shoves Mack's visor into her hands before stalking over.) Everyone thinks a little... and we don't have to kill you all. Got the idea?

Daria: (Dry.) The point was made. (Pause.) So, if this doesn't get a gun shoved in my face, what exactly are you doing here?

Elle: (Tucks the gun away, De mimicking his actions.) What we tend to do.

A.G. (Puzzled.) seek and destroy?

De: (Shortly.) No.

A.G. (Still not sure.) uhh, crush, kill and destroy?

De: (Very shortly.) No.

Elle: Look for answers to some personal questions, but at the moment we were wondering who developed the giant "Mutant-Monster-Mash" robots.

Daria: ("What now?" expression.) What robots?

Jane: These big pink and purple things that fly.

(Everyone looks at Jane.)

A.G. (Evil.) Not too partial to lightning though...

(Jane looks stunned, then suspicious... everyone else looks blank.)

Elle: (Honestly.) It was very impressive.

Jane: Well...

Amy: (Irritated.) What are you talking about?

De: (Very evil.) Your resident weathergirl forgot to tell you?!

Jane: (Protestingly.) I forgot!

(The Unholy Trio make various "I can't believe it!" expressions, gestures, etc.)

Amy: (Dangerously patient.) Jane...

Jane: I was busy, okay? Some rejects from the Transformers team up on me this morning...

De: (Always having fun.) At 3000 feet.

Mack: (Visor back in place.) You can FLY?

Jane: (Defensively.) I'm pretty new at it, okay?

Jodie: (Hurt/amazed.) Enough so that you forgot about that?

Jane: Okay! So it was going to be a surprise...

Daria: (How dry?) It worked.

Jane: (Change topic now.) Anyway, I was flying around when the giant-size version of a tin woodsman gets all heavy with this "Cease and Desist, Mutant Offender" stuff when a big pink beam carves up the first one and really annoys the second one, enough so that I had to get all elemental and fry his ass. (Stares at the three.)

Elle: (A bit stunned by Jane's "rant-mode".) Actually, I was trying to stop the one behind you... its weapons systems went hot first. (Beat.) The other one was a bonus.

Jane: (Just a little annoyed.) Bonus? You blew its head off!

Elle: But not yours.

Amy: (Waving for attention.) Excuse me? I apologise for my earlier actions...

De: (Do I have to describe how evil?) We don't...

Amy: (Looking tired.) ... But I think it may be more sensible to pool our resources than to bicker amongst ourselves.

De: (Muttered monologue.) ... Since we'd be the one's kicking your ass...

A.G. : (Brightly.) i'll agree with you here!

Daria: Thanks.

Elle: (Hoping that the other two won't get too bored and start something.) Okay, we were looking for traces of some secret project or projects, maybe government, maybe private. It's blanket code-name was "Alphabet-Soup"...

Jane: (Bright with the power of sarcasm.) Now that's a bad code-name.

De: (Viciously.) I'm so sorry, but "Capture innocent people and torture them" was already taken...

(Awkward moment.)

Jane: (Winces.) Ah.

A.G.: not to mention being cumbersome.

Elle: (With a "finished yet?" expression.) Right. While helping science along the rocky road of discovery, we managed to get together and escape... which an awful lot of other people didn't.

De: So we're gonna find out who thought it up/who were responsible and get creative.

A.G. big time. (Her usual "wheee!" expression slides to something more sinister.)

Elle: And since this group, or project, or whatever tends to concentrate on mutant "events" and activity, well...

(A few blushes from the Lawndale group.)

Elle: (Ignoring the expressions.) ... Let's just say that from what I've seen of this town, Sick Sad World should have a branch office here.

Daria: (Absently.) Something I'm beginning to think myself.

Amy: (Dry.) Join the family.

Elle: (Concentrates his mirror-shade stare on Amy.) And you, Miss Mind-Witch...

Amy: ("What did he call me?") Excuse me?

Elle: What's your angle on this? Why the collection of superheroes?

Amy: (Put on the spot.) Well, basically, solidarity... Not to mention the control and practise of certain abilities that may prove...

De: (Being tactful.) ... Detrimental to any stray Quarterbacks hanging around?

(Mack flushes and turns away into the darkness.)

A.G.: (Stage whisper.) i think it was something you said.

De: (Duh?) You think?

Jodie: (Ticked at the personal attacks.) Well, what's your problem Ms Rivers... if that is your real name?

De: (Grinning... well, it's got teeth.) It's not. And I disagree with your stance on hate crimes; how can you possibly regulate an individual's thinking... (Pauses to glare at Amy.)... Without infringing their rights as outlined in the First Amendment?

Jane: (At the sudden change in topic.) Gack?

Elle: (Soothingly.) Don't worry; she's just messing with your mind.

A.G.: (Stage whisper.) in the non-figurative sense.

Amy: (Holds up hands.) I've apologised okay? And I will not so attempt to intrude on your privacy in such a way, again.

De: (Mock-surprise.) I'm sorry, were we talking to you? (She looks at Elle, who is staring at the slumped form of Andrea.) And what now?!

Elle: (Distant.) I think we've found someone very important.

(He walks over to Andrea, still out of it after her collision with Daria. He crouches and puts a gloved hand to her face, gently tracing her jawline, usually clenched, now relaxed. Softly.)

Elle: Hey. Long time, no see.

A.G.: (Puzzled.) who?

Elle: (Looking back at the other trio members.) Guys, a familiar face. (No recognition.) Remember "Weapon X"?

De: (Gob-smacked.) Are you sure?! (Withering look from Elle.) Okay, so I should stop asking already...

Amy/Daria/Jane/Jodie/Mack: Who? That's Andrea! What are you on? Etc...

(The Trio ignore the queries for a few seconds, exchanging looks.)

De: Well?

A.G.: tell them?

Elle: (Shrugs.) Okay. (Clicks his fingers. No change in the gibbering. He sighs, removes a glove and clicks again.)

(The sudden appearance of a forest of foot-long "digits" does a lot more than the multiple clicks.)

Jane: (With the now-common "Whoa!" expression.) And what the hell are those?!

Elle: (Witheringly.) My fingers. Now shut up and listen. (Everyone does so.) A while ago now a whole heap of experiments were preformed on a... well, "zoo" of mutants. We were captured from all over, from every walk of life...

De: (Irritable.) Lose the clichés.

Elle: Fine. (Beat.) We were tortured to bring out the "best" in us in a variety of drug treatments and conditions. We were nothing more than walking lad rats, with codes instead of names. Since using this code was better than a cattle prod jammed up somewhere sensitive...

De: (Points to herself.) "D".

Elle: (Same.) "L".

A.G. (In triplicate.) A.G. (At the looks.) hey! There were well over a hunnret-fifty!

Elle: All lab rats in a cage. (Glances down at Andrea and straightens up.) This is "X". They kind of named us in sequential order, but she was a special case...

De: (Remembering.) A total hard case nut job. (Fondly.) Made you proud, really.

Elle: Yeah, well after crippling a few guards she disappeared into some of the other labs for a while... which had this whole Frankenstein wing...

A.G. (Remembering.) the screaming would go on for days. (The sparks change colour to an angry purple.) non. stop.

Elle: Anyway, she escaped, somehow. Then things got worse for the rest of us, drugs...

De: ... Bone and tissue sampling...

A.G. ... vivisection.

Elle: But we broke out - and in doing so totalled the place.

A.G. (Makes a mushroom cloud out of energy.) boom.

Elle: And so. (Waves a hand at the clearing. ) Here we are. (Looks down.) With Weapon X.

De: (To Jodie.) What's her name?

Jodie: Andrea.

Elle: Much better than "X".

Behind the Glasses for "Dominion",

... .Or the bits I haven't included because I don't know where you're going, yet.

Elle: Minimal force?

De: (Distracted) What?

Jane: (Patiently.) Did you use minimal force?

De: (Considering.) Well, does hitting someone so hard they'll pass blood come under "minimal force" to you?

AG: it does if they can do it voluntarily!

Elle: (To Jane's look.) If it gets worse than this, try not to show fear.

Mack: (To an unseen De, in a whisper.) What are you doing?

De: (Very irritable and invisible.) Blessing the quiet of naked skin... and don't look around like that!

Mack: But, you're invisible, aren't you?

De: (O/S, as if talking to a toddler) Yes, but some guard staring at every shadow is less than subtle infiltration technique.

Mack: (With a wince visible under the purloined helmet.) Point taken.

De: (O/S) And it puts me off. (Pause.) Just make like some stormtrooper extra suffering from an over-inflated ego, that shouldn't be too difficult.

Mack: (Muttered.) Did you have to take lessons?

De: (O/S) In invisibility?

Mack: No, your amazing ability to make friends.

De: (O/S, but grinning evilly, we can tell.) Ask me again after we get through the next checkpoint...

Elle: (Staring at a wall, then his attention snaps elsewhere.) AG, get some clothes on, we've got company. (Beat.) No, not that type, leave it where it is.

De: (Rolls over on the couch, looking like someone's woken her up before 10 on a Saturday, which is what's happened.) Leave a gun out, I want to shoot someone.

(Trying for more comfort, she shifts and falls onto the floor.)

De: (Heart-felt.) I hate this.

De: (Expressionless.) Charming. (Walks in to let the whole "pink experience" envelop her and looks around in growing amazement.) It looks like the "Let's be cute" monster just staggered in and threw up.

Daria: (With even less expression.) Since this is my sister's room, I'm forced to agree with you.

De: (Raised eyebrow.) And you expect me to sleep here?

Daria: Well, you could try my parent's bed, where they've been trying to spice up their marriage...

De: (Hurriedly.) This is good.

Guard (Who has his gun on De and Elle, and AG by the shoulder.) And who are you supposed to be?

De: Points to Elle.) That's Bambi, I'm Thumper and she is... (Nods to AG.) Static-Cling Girl.

AG: (False hurt.) no, i'm queen of the goblins, right guys?

(De and Elle nod, sarcastically.)

Guard: (Suspicious, but he's got the gun.) So what's you awe-inspiring power, terrorising people with flyaway hair?

AG: (Matter-of-fact.) well, yes, i can do that... but this is much more fun!

(A massive blue spark jumps from Aradia's hands to the guard's groin region. Any screams he was about to utter are shut off when a second discharge is delivered right between his eyes by AG's other hand.)

Elle: (Watching as AG blows gently on her fingertips, gunslinger-style.) Good job, now could we leave?

De: Yeah, that guard smells like hamburger and I'm hungry enough as it is.

Elle: (To De, with a wince.) What do you think?

(Andrea leaps to plant a pointy toe in one of the guard's faces, using that impact as leverage to spin higher, jam her claws into the roof and use that temporary anchorage to kick out into the faces of two surprised newcomers. Then she drops and goes to town with the claws... All this takes, at most, five seconds.)

De: (Warm.) Oh, she's good.

(After being tag-teamed by pretty much everyone in the room, the hurting Upchuck is pinned down by Elle's foot and a lot of unfriendly expressions.)

Elle: (Conversationally.) While I would personally enjoy the sight of some wannabe Supervillain's tooth enamel melting together... (He leans close to Upchuck, the prehensile tongue still securely trapped by the claw/talon/toe/whatever.)... it leaves me short of answers, answers which &emdash; are you listening? (The slow press of the sharp talon evicts some energetic head&emdash;nods from the hapless Upchuck.)

Elle: Answers, which are something that my colleagues and I need. We do not want lies, evasions or promises of better behaviour, we want answers. If we are happy, you might live long enough to enjoy pulling the train at some federal facility...

(The warm smile from De at this point makes Upchuck focus back on Elle.)

Elle: If we're not happy, well, I have an active imagination and am more than willing to take suggestions..? (He looks around.)

AG: red hot pokers! wheee!

De: Knives.

Andrea: (Who is wiping someone else's blood off her face.) Molten lead.

Mack: (With a look at Andrea.) Hell, molten anything.

Daria: Insects and honey?

Jane: Electrodes.

Jodie: Power tools. (Everyone looks at Jodie.) What? You didn't have to scrape that crap he spits off of you...

Elle: (Mildly.) I would have suggested a blowtorch myself. Now... (He leans very close to Upchucks face, so close the river of sweat pouring from the toad's yellow forehead is clearer than we want to see.)... Are you going to tell us what we want to know, or am I going to send De out for a nailgun and a "How Not to Do" book on body-piercing, do you catch my drift?

Elle: (Hurriedly.) Cover your ears!

Jane: (Worried.) Why?

(Sudden, horrific screams are heard from the next room, and are abruptly shut off.)

Elle: (Wincing.) AG just demonstrated the "Christmas squirrel grip" to some new friends.

Jane: (Horrified curiosity.) Why is it called..?

Elle: Don't ask. Please. She'll want to do it again. And you're not set up for a practical demonstration.

Daria: (Shouting to Elle as the Sentinel's attack heats up.) Where is everyone?

(Andrea gets blown through an open doorway by some energy beam, impacts on the far wall, shakes her head, growls, gets up, growls, heals a little and runs back through the door, growling.)

Elle: (With a blink.) Don't know, but I just saw Andrea!

(The overall noise level suddenly increases.)

Daria: Well, grab her and let's find somewhere safer!

Elle: (Listening to some metallic shrieks and electronic disruption.) I think she's a little busy right now.

(Explosions.)

Daria: (Shouting to carry over the noise.) What?!

Elle: (Grabs Daria's glove-clad hand in his own.) I've got an idea, let's find the control room!

Daria: I've heard about those!

Elle: Control rooms?

Daria: No, your ideas!

Elle: But I can't really do any more damage now, can I?!

(Daria shrugs the moot point.)

(Later.)

AG: (Dusting off her hands.) Well, the squirrel grip is when you grab hold of some nuts too tightly and won't let go... (Makes a crushing motion with each hand.) And if you can, you light them up like it's Christmas! (The discharges of her own internal energy make little popping and snapping noises as it arcs from one finger to the other.)

Jane: Ouch. (Fiendish.) Gotta try it! (Tries for a little discharge, and blows a light-bulb off the wall.) Whoops!

Elle: (Comes in, notices the expressions and pauses to comment.) Oh, god. It's catching.

(We see Jane cruising along at 2000 feet, not doing much, just enjoying the solitude and playing with the clouds. While she amuses herself making cloud-sculpture in the form of famous art, there is a thin scream behind her. Tilting her head, the noise grows louder.)

(With a rush of air and an ear-scouring shriek, something flies past. As Jane stares in total amazement, the origin of the noise swoops back to her.)

Jane: MRS MORGANDOFFER!?!

Helen: Oh! He-llo, Jane. Didn't see you there. Having fun?

Jane: (Stunned.) Assuming this conversation isn't the result of some sort of mental breakdown, yes. (Semi-calm.) And when did YOU start to fly?

Helen: (In her jogging gear, hovering while she adjusts her sweatband.) Oh, for a little while now.

Jane: And does...knows..ahh, HOW?

Helen: Oh, it was a shock for me as well, let me assure you. (Lets out a shriek and regains some altitude.) But people who should know, know.

Jane: Ahhh, ok..?

Helen: (Sunny, not false sunny.) Well, nice talking with you, and watch out for that thermal above the industrial park, you can find yourself in the jetstream if you're not careful. Bye!

(She screams away, leaving Jane before a massive reproduction of the Mona Lisa.)

Jane: Well, my weird-o-meter is scoring a solid 9 right about now...

(Another shriek floats from beneath her, and she looks down to find...)

Quinn: Oh, hi Jane. Have you seen my Mom? She forgot her cellular.

(Wordlessly, Jane points in the direction that Helen disappeared in.)

Quinn: (Typical.) Tha-anks!

(Quinn departs rapidly, leaving Jane with her cloud-sculpture.)

Jane: (To herself, loudly.) Ok, I'm going home now, hopefully not to find the Incredible Hulk having a shower. Anyone else want to spend some quality time with me? (Pause.) Last chance?

(She drops like a stone, trying to avoid the thought of how crowded the skies over Lawndale had become.)

(The two guards walked along the empty corridor, large guns at the ready. A shimmer that was more shadow than anything else exists for a moment, then winks out.)

Guard One: (Nose to the wind.) Something's here.

Guard Two: Hmmm, that's from that really awful "Beowulf" with Christopher Landon?

Guard One: No, you idiot! Something is down here with us!

Guard Two: (Now alert.) Sorry, thought we were still doing that movie quote game...

(They look up and down the corridor, then slowly face the way they came.)

Guard Two: (Conversationally.) You know, it's the really dumb guys in the movie who walk back the way they came and get eaten..?

Guard One: The really dumb UNARMED guys.

Guard Two: Point.

(Before they take more than a few steps, they both get tapped on the shoulder. Whirling, guns ready to blaze, they see that nothing is there.)

Guard One: Where..?

(De materialises behind them, their purloined sidearms in each hand and pressed at the base of each skull.)

Guard Two: Oops.

< F/X: Bla-BLAmpt! >

(Two very large patches of crimson glisten as she walks by the fallen, and she shimmers out of sight again as the shot pans down to show the scene reflected from a shattered helmet visor.)

AG: wot's that? they want to eat you?!

Elle: (Very tired.) AG, you CAN'T talk to the animals.

De: Especially stuffed ones.

AG: (Hugging the duck to her chest.) don't listen to them, they're just jealous!

De: (Being restrained by Elle) Hit.... her...now.