Difference between revisions of "User:Noxigar/2023WikihoodPrototype"

Revision as of 15:03, 24 December 2023

Transcript

{The scene opens up to a scene where a brown-haired man walks up to a restaurant named "Katyusha's," He drags a luggage on wheels, while staring down the front door.}

GARLAND: {clears his throat} Hello, I'm Garland. I'm the one who answered the ad for a roommate for one Konstantin Volkov. May I speak to him?

{Garland paces around for a bit, before trying again.}

GARLAND: Hello, I'm Garland. My last name is of no importance. What is important, however, is meeting the man, the myth, the legend, Konstantin Volkov. I believe I have a spare apartment he offered me when I met him in Phoenixshire last week.

{Garland shakes his head.}

GARLAND: No, too tryhard...

{Garland looks around, and the camera zooms out to show the parking lot is vacant, save for a few cars in the area.}

GARLAND: I suppose I can just go in and... maybe order some food.

{Garland opens the door. As he enters, luggage in tow, he sees a big, burly man with tattoos and a jovial disposition trying out pierogis with a couple chefs, and lucky patrons.}

CHEF 1: Think this needs more bacon, boss?

VOLKOV: Nonsense. There is no such thing as too much bacon on a pierogi. The only exception is when customer doesn't want bacon in first place!

CHEF 2: Chef, we got another order for that Chocozuma dessert special.

CHEF 3: Yes, Chef.

CHEF 4: And let's not charge them for it, Chef. It's the lady's birthday and all.

CHEF 5: Wait, we do the Birthday Special still?

{The chefs go back into the kitchen, mummering amongst themselves. Volkov turns around to see Garland in front of him.}

VOLKOV: Ah, Garfield!

{Garland shudders, as Volkov goes to bear-hug him.}

VOLKOV: I apologize for not getting you at airport. Had a bit of lunch rush, da.

{Garland nods.}

GARLAND: It's okay. I found those trolleys you told me about which go all over Towningdale. I didn't have to order a ride share app or anything.

VOLKOV: Come, settle down for a bit. Have a few foodstuffs on the house! Are you hungry for anything in particular?

{Garland's stomach audibly rumbles.}

GARLAND: Just a Sirloin with some of the pierogi herbs and spices, mashed potatoes, and sour cream will do. And a vodka.

VOLKOV: Vodka this early in morning?

GARLAND: My boss, Xiorno, gave me the month off so I could attend a funeral for two people I loved dearly: Albert and Sarah Belluci.

{Garland frowns and wipes his eyes for a bit.}

GARLAND: If you want, I'll try to limit it to one glass of vodka, and then I'll chase it down with Pepsi.

{Volkov pats Garland in the back.}

VOLKOV: When is funeral? I can drive you.

{Garland looks up at the taller man.}

GARLAND: You'd... do that?

VOLKOV: {whispers in hushed tones} I must. Don't want Comrade Garfield to be snatched up by DuTempi mobsters. Not when-

GARLAND: I appreciate it. Some lodging while I sort myself out, try to catch up with Tracy and Bling, and maybe watch the great Noelle Malifact on Battel TV... maybe see if I've got any LARP friends in town while I'm at it... you've already helped me out considerably.

{Volkov squeezes Garland tighter.}

VOLKOV: Excellent! I'll go get my new electric bulletproof tank up and running!

{Volkov runs off screen.}

GARLAND: They make electric tanks now?

{Cut forward, to Volkov and Garland, driving out of the Katyusha's parking lot.}

GARLAND: Wait, so you're telling me... Andre DuTempi's been slowly but surely taking over Towningdale?

VOLKOV: Da. Andre's men harass several of my customers and employees. I investigate what hubbub's about, and it turns out a robbery in San Cristobal happened just last week.

GARLAND: Robbery? Is that what they call "striking it big at the Lucky Land Casino" these days?

{Volkov laughs for a bit, but then his tone changes to be more firm.}

VOLKOV: No. Casino actually got robbed. Hotshots think they can do crime better than crime family, which got us average civilians into long-standing Blood Feud.

GARLAND: But... I'm not average civilian by any stretch of the imagination.

{Volkov shrugs.}

VOLKOV: Neither am I. However, I parted with ring recently in order to get DuTempis off my people's backs.

GARLAND: Wait, you gave up your mom's wedding ring? That has far more sentimental value than could be put on a price tag!

VOLKOV: Da, but they were going to spill blood on property. Choice was removed from equation.

{Garland looks sullen.}

GARLAND: We really do live in a cyberpunk dystopian hellscape, don't we?

VOLKOV: Could always be worse, methinks.

GARLAND: I think I see the Belluci Estate up ahead.

{As Volkov and Garland drive up to the Belluci Estate, they see a "For Sale" sign near the front gate.}

GARLAND: Oh, this better be cap. On God.

{Garland takes a pamphlet from a basket next to the "For Sale" sign, and begins reading from within. His eyes narrow, as he grimaces.}

GARLAND: Chloe DuTempi?

{Garland takes the pamphlet, and crushes it under his fist.}

GARLAND: I have to find Tracy and Bling. I don't get why they chose her of all fucking people to be the Realtor for this magnificent manor...

{Volkov steps out of the tank and puts a hand on Garland's right shoulder.}

VOLKOV: Is everything alright, Garfield?

{Garland nods.}

GARLAND: I am tempted to buy this place from right under Chloe's nose.

{Garland lowers his head sullenly.}

GARLAND: Sadly, I don't have the immediate funds for her asking price.

{Volkov leans back and eyes Garland quizzically.}

VOLKOV: Is asking price a lot?

GARLAND: {sighs} Yes. I will not only need to save up way more from just my first job, but I'd need to accelerate the process by picking up a second job, and quite possibly a third and fourth.

{Hey, everyone! It's my old friend, Short Pause!}

GARLAND: Speaking of second job...

{Cut to a downtown section of Towningdale, which features a cereal cafe labeled "Surreal Cereals" next to several office buildings. On the screen's bottom, is white text reading "Downtowningdale." Moments after, the camera cuts to inside Surreal Cereals, where a man in an apron is at the counter. Garland and Volkov approach him.}

TRACY: Garland? You made it?

GARLAND: Why wouldn't I?

{Tracy blinks. He opens his mouth for a bit, but then closes it. He then repeats the action once more.}

TRACY: Can... I get you anything, while you're here?

VOLKOV: I have a question. You have oat milk for the cereal, right?

TRACY: I've got a few jugs in the back, yeah.

VOLKOV: Excellent! I'll take some off-brand sugar flakes with oat milk!

{Garland looks up at the menu, then looks at Tracy.}

GARLAND: I'll take some of the Mini-Cookies, dry. I may take it to go, but while I'm here I'd...

{Garland looks around, and sees a gaggle of nerdy hipsters forming a circle with some nearby tables. Several of them peer their heads over to look at Garland for a bit, before redirecting their attention back to their phones.}

GARLAND: I'd like a word with you, ideally in a setting where we won't be eavesdropped.

{Tracy shrugs.}

TRACY: No, dude. Just say your piece here. I already know what you're about to ask.

GARLAND: Why-

TRACY: The mansion's too expensive for me to keep. I run a small business, and Bling doesn't talk to me about who he sells the house to. We both agreed it was for the best to liquidate the assets.

{Garland frowns.}

GARLAND: So you didn't enlist Chloe DuTempi, then?

TRACY: No. My guess is she-

{Cut to a fancy bedroom, with a man and woman each covered only by modest bedsheets. They both take out cigarettes and lighters.}

CHLOE: Please tell me you're not going to complain if I hurry on out of here.

BLING: I could watch your ass move all day.

{Chloe slowly gets up, and picks up her clothes.}

CHLOE: You can stop spitting game now, I'm busy with actual work.

{Bling scoffs.}

BLING: I do real work, too.

{Chloe shoots a look of disbelief in Bling's direction.}

BLING: I'm serious! I've been in a music studio spitting bars at some motherfuckers.

{Chloe laughs darkly.}

CHLOE: You barely lasted five minutes with me, I doubt you "spat bars" for more than a half hour at most.

{Chloe walks offscreen, to finish getting dressed.}

CHLOE: If I were you, I'd hurry along before my boyfriend Reno finds you on his bed smelling like his cologne.

{Bling hurriedly gets up to get dressed himself. The camera cuts back to Tracy, Garland, and Volkov, who are all seated at a booth far away from the hipster patrons.}

GARLAND: Surely there's a different Realtor you could get?

{Tracy shakes his head.}

TRACY: Sorry, Garland.

{Tracy sighs, and looks out the window, while getting the cereal Garland and Volkov ordered earlier. Garland looks disappointed.}

GARLAND: So, what? I have to purchase the mansion to save it from falling into the wrong hands?

{Tracy turns around, and presents the cereal to Garland and Volkov's table.}

TRACY: If you think you can afford it.

{Garland nods solemnly. Then, he looks up with a more jovial expression.}

GARLAND: You guys still have that Genesis Tree in the backyard, right? The one that glows and gives wise advice?

{Tracy blinks.}

TRACY: That's... Not an advice tree, my dude.

{Garland scratches his head, his expression becoming more neutral.}

GARLAND: Oh.

{Volkov pats Garland on the back of his right shoulder, while the two otherwise begin digging in to their respective cereals.}

VOLKOV: So, Garfield. You know Bellucis? How so?

GARLAND: Well...

{Cut to a screen of a much-younger Garland in a faraway land. He is seen in a photograph winning a Nobel Prize in Biochemistry.}

GARLAND: {offscreen} When I was young, I traveled a lot. One of the places I wound up living in, as a direct result of moving constantly, was right within the area of a prestigious East Weimar university. I was set to get my Doctorate at the ripe age of 17...

{Cut to a different screen showing Garland packing his things to move elsewhere.}

GARLAND: ...but I wound up burning out just shy of a Ph.D. My ambition exceeded my ability, but I still had a Master's and a Nobel Prize in tow.

{Cut to a different screen showing a Garland learning magic at an academy in The United States.}

GARLAND: {offscreen} I enjoyed studying stuff for fun, so I wanted to expand my knowledge to include magic spells. I signed up to do some Sangromancy at Bluehaven Academy.

{Cut to Garland arguing with faculty members in an office.}

GARLAND: {offscreen} Turns out the Sangromancy Programme had me trying a little too hard to do well at quizzes and other formalities which I was ill-suited for, to say the least.

{Cut to Garland outside of Bluehaven Academy's campus, with his stuff packed.}

GARLAND: {offscreen} Ultimately, I chose to exile myself from formal magic academia, and I tried to learn Sangromancy through less overpriced, less mentally-draining means.

{In the background, snap photos of Garland interacting positively with different people and with magical items are piled alongside each other.}

GARLAND: {offscreen} Before my exodus to East Weimar, I was friends with a few different people across the mainland USA. The Belluci family was among those people.

{Cut back to Volkov and Garland, who are eating their cereals.}

VOLKOV: So how many places have you been to?

GARLAND: Many. I lost count after travelling countries.

{Volkov nods.}

VOLKOV: How about countries?

GARLAND: Four. United States, Cuba, Germany, and Syllahona.

VOLKOV: Wait, Cuba?

GARLAND: I had an old relative whose funeral I went to. A great-great-abuela. She lived there. The funeral was definitely awkward, though. I ended up barely in touch with my folks there since.

{Short pause.}

GARLAND: How many countries have you been to?

VOLKOV: A few. I lived in Russia for longest time, then I immigrated to The States. I lived in Casablanca for a while.

{Volkov spots a nearby piano, and begins playing on it.}

VOLKOV: {singing} You must remember this,
A kiss is still a kiss,
A sigh is just a sigh...
The fundamental things apply,
As time goes by...

{Volkov continues playing on the piano. Garland's expression changes to a more jovial one.}

GARLAND: {singing} And when two lovers woo,
They still say "I love you,"
On that you can rely...

{As Garland tries to sing the rely part in countertenor, his voice cracks out and he coughs in recoil. Volkov chimes in to help.}

GARLAND AND VOLKOV: {singing} No matter what the future brings,
As time goes by...

{The circle of nerdy hipsters hear the vocal hubbub and come to see what's playing on the piano. They begin texting to each other; the camera shifts to the text message group chat, evidently conversing about Garland and Volkov, while they continue to sing.}

GARLAND AND VOLKOV: {singing} Moonlight and love songs,
Are never out of date
Hearts full of passion, jealousy, and hate...

{Garland stops singing outright, while Volkov wears a confused expression.}

VOLKOV: How come man can have non-specific mate but woman specifically needs man? I don't get it.

GARLAND: Me neither. Some of these old timey tunes still have a good sentiment bogged down by bad syntax. I can't always blame it on an external lyricist of control, either.

{Volkov and Garland shrug.}

VOLKOV: Song still good.

GARLAND: Agreed.

{They resume singing.}

GARLAND AND VOLKOV: {singing} It's still the same old story,
A fight for love and glory
A case of do or die
The world will always welcome lovers
As time goes by...

{They finish singing.}