RiffText/ChoomWikihood/3

Summary

Chwoka, now blinded, is revealed to be able to hear race.

NOXIGAR: What?

He is admonished by the rest of the group until he saves their lives with his racist superpower.

NOXIGAR: Does he stop a bunch of dweebs in white drapes from killing his friends?

Meanwhile, Bluebry and Nachoman win a free cruise to Glorious Iceland.

NOXIGAR: Okay. This part of the plot doesn't sound inherently disappointing. Watch it become disappointing.

Transcript

ACT I

{FADE IN: The kitchen, morning. The kitchen is completely devoid of appliances and dishes, even sinks, save for a jug of dishwashing liquid helpfully labelled "DISHWASHING LIQUID" in big black letters.

NOXIGAR: Why call it a kitchen if it's devoid of most of the qualities which make it a kitchen to begin with?

BLUEBRY: {Off Screen} I dare you.

NACHOMAN: {O.S} I double dare you.

NOXIGAR: I triple dare you.

BLUEBRY: {O.S} There's a 5 dollar bill with Abraham Lincoln's name on it if you do it.

{Chwoka runs on screen and straight-up downs that dishwashing liquid.}

NOXIGAR: Later, it proves he is doing everyone in the entire universe a favour by risking his life.

{Cut to stock footage of ambulances. Superimposed text: "BUTTS GALORE"}

{Cut to the apartment lobby. Bluebry and Nachoman are at the communal mailboxes.}

BLUEBRY: Let's open our mail.

NACHOMAN: Yes, let's.

{Bluebry and NachoMan accidentally go for the same mailbox at the same time and end up holding hands. They blush and begin stammering, and frantically attempt to break it off, each others' frantic efforts countering each other. Eventually NachoMan grabs the only letter in the mailbox. It is entirely unlabeled and he doesn't even look at it.}

NOXIGAR: With my understanding of who the author is,
this scene is so awkward and contrived I could nitpick it all day but it would detract from the rest of this being riffed

NACHOMAN: Oh look it's a letter from the President

{Bluebry grabs the letter and opens it.}

BLUEBRY: {reading aloud} "Dear my fellow Americans, you have been specifically selected by me, the President, because my out of control government spending is giving you a free trip to Iceland to stimulate the American trans-Atlantic flying industry or something. Hugs and Kisses, Obama."

{Bluebry tosses the letter over his shoulder and just after it leaves frame, it disappears or burns or explodes or something and the dark smoke trail wafts in gradually.}

NACHOMAN: I have always wanted to go to Iceland.

BLUEBRY: It could be a nice honeymoon.

{Pause.}

NOXIGAR: "Bluebry, did you realize what you just said?"

BLUEBRY: Not with you I mean. I mean with my life partner. For life.

NACHOMAN: Life partners are for life.

NOXIGAR: Oh joy, an attack on conservative hypocrisy.
No, Chwoka, I think this is your best bit in the entire series. While that isn't saying much by comparison to the rest of it, I am being level with you and approving this as humour.

BLUEBRY: {gradually speaking more and more to the camera, but not entirely} Yes, a life partner, a white picket fence, and 2.5 children

NOXIGAR: 2.5 children? Are we going by statistics here? Is that .5 child a fetus?

growing up in a safe suburban neighborhood.

NACHOMAN: {now entirely to the camera} Preserve the sanctity of life partners.

BLUEBRY: {now entirely to the camera} Proposition 8.

NOXIGAR: IT'S FUNNY BECAUSE THIS PROPOSITION 8 WAS RESTRICTING VARIOUS FORMS OF MARRIAGE AND THEREBY CONTRADICTORY TO CONSERVATIVE PRINCIPLES

{Cut: The hospital. Chwoka is bedridden, his head covered entirely by bandages. Skub is kneeling by his bedside.}

SKUB: {despondent} Why'd you do it? Why would you do this?

CHWOKA: {as if on death's door} It's... all about the Benjamins. I just want you to know... you were always the fat one to me...

SKUB: What does that even mean? DON'T YOU DIE ON ME!

{Skub starts pounding on Chwoka's chest, thrice, each one letting out a louder "oof" from Chwoka. Chwoka stops Skub.}

SKUB: {choking back tears} You were always the stupid loser...

{The doctor, DOCTOR AMAZING, walks in.}

SKUB: What's the prognostocist, doc? Is he going to be alright?

DOCTOR AMAZING: Your friend here is going to be fine. There's no need to be worried.

SKUB: How did you do it, doc?

DOCTOR AMAZING: The healing power of laughter!

{The joke does not land.}

DOCTOR AMAZING: Not really. That was a joke. We just pumped his stomach.

SKUB: Will he be fine?

DOCTOR AMAZING: I just -- I just SAID that! Look, he's gonna be blind for a little bit, but that's it.

SKUB: But will he be... alright?

DOCTOR AMAZING:

That's it. Doctor Amazing out.

{Doctor Amazing out.}

SKUB: Is he going to DIE?!

{Cut: Car. Skub is driving Chwoka from the hospital. The car is old and beat up. Chwoka is wearing bandages on his eyes, and sunglasses over those, and bandages on the sunglasses. Skub is shaking like a big bowl of Jello with rage.}

CHWOKA: {singing} I wear my sunglasses at night, so I can, so I can

SKUB: Shut UP.

CHWOKA: BLINDED by the LIGHT! Something something something, like a thing in the night!

SKUB: Shut ALL of your ups.

CHWOKA: You're just jealous 'cause I'm blind and you're not.

SKUB: Why would I be jealous?

CHWOKA: Blind people get all the ladies.

SKUB: what WHAT

{Chwoka puts his hands back behind his head.}

SKUB: WHEN DId this happen

CHWOKA: Man, I know you don't get none, on account of your weight, but I have reason to keep on the latest ladies trends.

SKUB: No more of this.

{Skub turns on the radio.}

TIMBUK 3: {over radio} The future's so bright... I gotta wear shades.

SKUB: god DAMN IT

{Cut back to the apartment. Brooksie is sitting on the couch watching television. There is not a sandwich on a plate next to him.}

BROOKSIE: Ha ha. Oh, SpongeBob. Will I ever need another television show? I think not.

{Bluebry and NachoMan enter, joined at the hip.}

BLUEBRY: We have an announcement to make!

BROOKSIE: i support your decision 100 percent

NACHOMAN: oh my GOD is that SPONGEBOB

BROOKSIE: YES

NACHOMAN: I MUST WATCH IT

{NachoMan lunges for the couch and sits down next to Brooksie.}

NACHOMAN: PEOPLE

BROOKSIE: ORDER

NACHOMAN: OUR

BLUEBRY: gyhjnrid

{Brooksie and NachoMan get all sad and then turn to Bluebry, still standing near the door.}

BLUEBRY: NachoMan and I are travelling to GLORIOUS ICELAND.

NACHOMAN: Oh, yeah! I nearly forgot! Reruns of old SpongeBob episodes are just so exciting that you can lose yourself in them. Lose yourself...

{NachoMan drifts off into space.}

BLUEBRY: I've always wanted to go to Iceland. Their culture is so much more cultured than ours.

BROOKSIE: What? You guys get to go to ICELAND? I am so insanely jealous right now.

NACHOMAN: You best step off, Brooksie. You best step off.

BLUEBRY: Brooksie, you're suffocating me.

NACHOMAN: It's like you're a gorilla, and also you're sitting on my chest, and Bluebry is the banana in my mouth.

BLUEBRY: I'm bananas for you, NachoMan.

{Skub barges in.}

SKUB: Jealous enough for MURDER, Brooksie?!

{Cue musical sting!}

BROOKSIE: {contemplative} No... never again...

{Brooksie gets lost in patriotism.}

BLUEBRY: Oh, good timing, Skub! We're just announcing something important.

SKUB: I'm so happy for you! I always knew it would work out between you two.

NACHOMAN: We're going to Iceland!

SKUB: Oh.

{Back to Brooksie. The background is replaced by an image of a waving American flag and a crying bald eagle in front of it, as Brooksie lifts his chin up and sheds a single tear.}

BROOKSIE: {over-acting} I promised, to my homeland, that I would never idly stand by while terrorists compromise my freedoms. I would take action! We here in America enjoy freedoms the likes of no other countries, and there are those who want to take them away. WE CAN NOT LET THEM! And

NACHOMAN: yeah shut up brooks

BROOKSIE: {deflated} Okay...

{Brooksie takes a bite of the sandwich that wasn't there.}

NACHOMAN: We left some train tickets on the counter in the kitchen for you guys to pick us up. We leave today!

BLUEBRY: Ooh, I'm so excited!

{Bluebry and NachoMan do a girly jump together, but only ironically so they're still cool and get invited to tons of parties. Chwoka gropes his way indoors.}

CHWOKA: Skub, you were supposed to lead me up the stairs!

SKUB: What am I, your seeing-eye Wes?

CHWOKA: I fell down the stairs nine times. It really hurt.

NACHOMAN: {simultaneously} it keeps happening SKUB: {simultaneously} Stuff it, okay? Nobody wants to hear about your stupid temporary blindness or whatever. WHATEVER.

BROOKSIE: Wait, what?

NACHOMAN: {to Brooksie} Yeah, that's probably our fault.

BLUEBRY: No it wasn't! He made the decision to chug dishwashing liquid on his own, independent of our egging him on. If he's weak-willed, well, pssh, that's his fault, not ours. I mean, he probably would have drunk it anyway. We hold no blame.

NACHOMAN: Oh, right, I forgot.

BLUEBRY: I'm a role model.

{Bluebry heroically lifts his chin skyward, like Brooksie' earlier digression, only this time instead of an American flag there's a 5 dollar bill with Abraham Lincoln's name on it and instead of a crying bald eagle, there's Atlas.}

BLUEBRY: Capitalism. Bootstraps. Businesses. Welfare queens.

{NOID, who is black, interrupts Bluebry's digression.}

NOID: That is an impressive collection of BULLCRAP you've accumulated there, Bluebry.

BLUEBRY: Of course, I only meant it, uh, ironically.

NOID: Irony is the white man's safety net.

BLUEBRY: Welfare is the black man's.

{Jesus Christ, I feel awful just typing that. Everybody in the room knows this is the worst possible thing to say and reacts accordingly.}

BLUEBRY: That was ironic as well.

NOID: What.

BLUEBRY: We should get going, right NachoMan?

NACHOMAN: But SPONGEBOB

BLUEBRY: The early bird gets the Iceland, as they say in Iceland. Let's go, NachoMan.

NACHOMAN: But

{Bluebry leans into NachoMan.}

BLUEBRY: {to NachoMan} Before Noid lynches me.

NOID: Lynch? Really?!

BLUEBRY: I was BEING ironic!

{Bluebry takes NachoMan and runs out of the apartment.}'

NOID: Is anybody else here racist? Show of hands.

{Everybody looks around. Nobody raises their hands.}

NOID: Okay, good.

CHWOKA: I don't see race. Or anything, for that matter!

SKUB: HAHAHAHA. You're nOT FUNNY.

CHWOKA: Geez, you quote songs about sunglasses and blindness for 45 minutes straight one time, and suddenly you're not funny any more! You're so fickle, Skub.

{The Black Neighbor walks up the stairs. The doorbell rings.}

BLACK NEIGHBOR: {on the other side of the door} You left a package in the communal mailboxes.

{Sexy music begins playing.}

BLACK NEIGHBOR: Here it comes...

{The Black Neighbor pushes a long, cardboard black tube through the mail slot in the door. The sexy music stops playing.}

CHWOKA: Wow. What a kindly black man.

SKUB: Wait, how did you know he was black?

CHWOKA: Uh, his voice? Duh? Can't everybody?

SKUB: No!

NOID: Wow, Chwoka. I can't trust nobody to not be racist, can I?

CHWOKA: How is that racist?

NOID: You have carefully calibrated stereotypes about skin colors and their correlation to vocal cords. You don't see how that could be even a little bit racist?

CHWOKA: Well, I'm always right, aren't I?

BROOKSIE: Shut up! I'm trying to watch SpongeBob over here. I don't need to hear about racism. In the undersea world of Bikini Bottom, there are no whites or blacks, only pinks and greens.

CHWOKA: All the major voice actors for SpongeBob SquarePants are white.

END ACT I

ACT II

{Fade in: Just outside the entryway of an Icelandic Airport. Bluebry and NachoMan, bags in tow, have just left.}

BLUEBRY: I am just crazy about Iceland.

NACHOMAN: So am I!

BLUEBRY: Wow, really?!

NACHOMAN: Yeah!

BLUEBRY: What a coincidence!

NACHOMAN: I know, right?

BLUEBRY: Wait, whose bags are these?

{Bluebry and NachoMan drop the bags.}

NACHOMAN: Who needs bags anyway? We're drowning in DOLLA DOLLA BILLS, Y'ALL.

{NachoMan takes out a LOT of Icelandic money out of the bag he dropped and starts fanning it into the air and letting it drop to the ground. Homeless people and cats swarm around, muttering and grumbling while they pick up the money.}

BLUEBRY: Wow, even the homeless people sound like Bjork here!

NACHOMAN: I think one of the Icelandic cats peed on my shoe. I'm never washing this shoe again.

BLUEBRY: I am so insanely jealous right now.

{Cut: Apartment. It's about the same as when we left it, only without Bluebry or NachoMan. Skub is sitting on the couch, staring at a deactivated television. Chwoka and Brooksie are playing ping-pong and doing terribly. Chwoka is doing better than Brooksie, despite being blind. Noid is doing the dishes.}

SKUB: I'm hungry!

CHWOKA: what else is new you fat piece of ham

SKUB: It's an eating disorder!

BROOKSIE: 'Cause there ain't no order to your eating!

CHWOKA: Ohhhh snap, Brooksie!

{Chwoka and Brooksie high-five with the paddles. Skub cries tears of sadness and also candied yams.}

BROOKSIE: You know, I'm hungry too.

CHWOKA: Yeah, I guess I'm a bit peckish.

NOID: This plate is TERRIBLE!

{Noid throws a plate against the wall with all of his force.}

{Cut: The Noodle Shack. Skub, Brooksie, Noid, and Chwoka all enter The Noodle Shack (a Chinese restaurant), ringing the bell on the door. Chwoka has a cane now. The glass door shuts in Chwoka's face, but he walks through anyway, breaking all the glass. There's a large sign that says "THE NOODLE SHACK" on the inside. It is a to-go restaurant, with little to no seating room. The kitchen is sealed off besides an empty doorway into it, maybe with a bead curtain.}

SKUB: {casual} So, this is the new Chinese Restaurant you've been talking about, eh, Brooksie?

CHWOKA: {interrogative} Yeah, Brooksie?

SKUB: {violent} Yeah?!

NOID: {violent, all up in Brooksie's grill} Yeah, Bookski, is it?

{Skub slaps the counter.}

BROOKSIE: Yeah. The Noodle Shack. I hear they have noodles here.

SKUB: Excellent!

{CASHIER Noodle Artist 1, who is Chinese, walks out from the kitchen and stands at the service counter. Skub turns to the Noodle Artist and leans over the counter.}

SKUB: Eight servings of your finest noodles, my good man!

CHWOKA: {under Noodle Artist 1} eight seriously Skub NOODLE ARTIST 1: Oh, we don't serve noodles here.

SKUB: But... the sign...

NOODLE ARTIST 1: "Noodle" is just Chinese for "Chicken."

SKUB: Then I guess we'll take the chicken then...

NOODLE ARTIST 1: 9 servings of Sweet 'n' Sour chicken, coming right up!

CHWOKA: But we asked for eight!

NOODLE ARTIST 1: Only serve chicken in multiples of three. Ancient Chinese superstition.

BROOKSIE: Oh, ha ha. Ethnic. I like it!

NOID: Brooksie just loves the ethnic ladies.

BROOKSIE: that's not WHAT I MEANT THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT

NOID: Oh, so you don't like the ethnic ladies? Racist. Boom.

NOODLE ARTIST 1: {to kitchen}10 Sweet 'n' Sour Chickens!

NOODLE ARTIST 2: {white} Coming right up, Chief!

{The Noodle Artist goes back into the kitchen. Brief pause.}

CHWOKA: Guys.

BROOKSIE: What?

CHWOKA: I think that guy -- the cook -- was white. I can hear it in his voice.

NOID: Oh, for God's sake.

BROOKSIE: Come on Chwoka. Lay up on the racism already.

NOID: {under Chwoka & his own breath} You're one to talk, Brooksie.

CHWOKA: No, no, I'm serious you guys! Don't order Chinese food prepared by Americans!

SKUB: Oh, so now you can identify nationality too?

BROOKSIE: That's like, double-racist.

CHWOKA: Why do you think they sent the Chinese one out?

NOID: Coincidence or he's more skilled as a cashier. Not everything has to be determined by race, Chwoka.

SKUB: Does it even matter if the cook's Chinese or not?

BROOKSIE: You're just imagining it anyway!

CHWOKA: {over-acting} You'll see when the food comes out. You'll see! You'll all see! They laughed at me, said I was mad! But now who's laughing?! Me! The answer is me!

SKUB: yeah shut up chwoka

{Cut: The city. Skub, Brooksie, Noid, and Chwoka exit The Noodle Shack and proceed by foot. Chwoka is getting good at this "blind" thing and no longer needs a seeing-eye Wes. Skub and Brooksie are carrying all the food, and there is way more than they ordered. The city is crowded and noisy.}

BROOKSIE: Chwoka, you're like racist Daredevil.

CHWOKA: Who's Daredevil?

BROOKSIE: He's a blind superhero.

NOID: nobody CARES about your nerdy REFERENCES,, BROOKSIE:.

{Noid swats all the food out of Brooks' arms.}

BROOKSIE: {crying a little bit} He was in movies...

{A woman [black] screams and throws a television out a window, which nearly lands on our hapless heroes. There is an unintelligible argument between her and a male, her boyfriend [black].}

SKUB: Messy break-up.

CHWOKA: And from the sound of it, they're both black.

BROOKSIE: Come ON Chwoka!

{The woman shoves her boyfriend out of the front door and on to the sidewalk. The boyfriend grovels on the stoop.}

BOYFRIEND: Baby, baby baby baby please baby please baby please baby baby please, please, PLEASE, baby, baby! Please!

CHWOKA: See?

SKUB: Just because you're right doesn't mean you're not racist.

CHWOKA: It's not racist if you're right 100% of the time.

NOID: Uh.

BROOKSIE: Yes it is. Besides, that's, like, only 1 instance of you being proved right.

CHWOKA: Okay, let's add to that pool.

NOID: Let's not.

{Chwoka stops the group.}

CHWOKA: Listen.

{That guy who's always on his cell phone [white] walks by.}

GUY WHO'S ALWAYS ON HIS CELL PHONE: {on cell phone} Yeah, it's this new place called The Noodle Shack. Real authentic. I hear they serve noodles there!

CHWOKA: White, and talking to his white friend.

{A taxi driver ["Indian" Indian] yells something at somebody.}

CHWOKA: That cab driver is Indian.

SKUB: Not every cab driver is Indian.

BROOKSIE: Yeah, some are Iranian!

NOID: Stay out of this, Brooksie. You just make yourself look worse every time you say something.

CHWOKA: This one is.

{A gang war erupts in the background!}

GANG MEMBER: {O.S} I'll kill you!

OTHER GANG MEMBER: {O.S} Not if I kill you first!

CHWOKA: Racially motivated, black people versus Mexicans.

SKUB: Come on, Chwoka, white people can be in a gang too!

POLICE OFFICER: {O.S} POLICE! GET DOWN!

CHWOKA: Yeah. The police is the most dangerous gang of all. Up top, Brooksie!

{Chwoka goes up top!}

BROOKSIE: I am not high-fiving you for that.

{Chwoka deflates his high-five.}

SKUB: I can not believe you just said that.

NOID: Way to steal somebody else's righteous anger, stripped of context, Chwoka.

{The off-screen gang war gets really intense, bloody, and violent and dies down quickly, all the extras and our heroes reacting in fright. A few seconds after it ends, everybody goes right back to what they were doing like jiggled Jell-O. The gang walks past one of those fake statue guys [mixed races]. Skub stops them.}

SKUB: Oh man I love these things!

CHWOKA: What are we talking about here?

BROOKSIE: is it because you're a CHILD Skub. is it.

CHWOKA: Like, a fortune teller or something?

SKUB: sssSHUT UP,,; BROOKSIE.,

CHWOKA: Or like, a claw machine? Really I have no idea what you're talking about here. Blind. No context.

NOID: Skub you are literally a BIG-SHAPED BABY.

{Skub drops all of his food and puts some money in the Fake Statue Guy's upturned hat. The gang starts walking.}

FAKE STATUE GUY: Thank you.

{The Fake Statue Guy does the worst robot this side of the Mississippi.}

CHWOKA: Ohhhhhh, it's a [Whatever the actor's race is] statue guy!

SKUB: Come on Chwoka !!

BROOKSIE: that is just annoyingly specific.

NOID: At this point you're basically gloating about your racism.

SKUB: Yeah, BAS IC AL LY.

CHWOKA: But... aren't YOU the real racists?

{Pause.}

NOID: No.

CHWOKA: Think about it...

NOID: I am.

CHWOKA: You're discriminating against my discrimination.

NOID: That's a terrible argument.

BROOKSIE: Face it, Chwoka. Even if you're right 100% of the time, you're still racist.

CHWOKA: Or...

{The gang stops walking. Brooksie starts throwing the food in his arms at Chwoka, saying "Stop it!" every time he throws one. Soon, Noid and Skub join in, and it turns into a cacophony of "Stop it!"}

END ACT II

ACT III

{Cut: An Icelandic tourist center. The tourist center is lined with pictures of the beautiful Icelandic wilderness (basically, just any picture of Iceland at all.) There are a few plaques explaining history on the wall, maybe a diorama if the set is big enough. The tour guide mans/womans the counter, cleaning and such. He/she is clearly very competent at his job. Bluebry and NachoMan enter the tourist center and walk up to the counter.}

TOUR GUIDE: Welcome to Iceland! Where are you two from?

BLUEBRY: Hi, we're from America.

TOUR GUIDE: And your names?

NACHOMAN: I'm NachoMan.

BLUEBRY: And I'm Bluebry.

NACHOMAN: We'd like to know where the nearest movie store is and then I think we're about done here.

TOUR GUIDE: Movie... store? Surely you jest! Why Iceland has much more to offer than just movie stores!

BLUEBRY: No, we just wanna know where the movie store is.

NACHOMAN: Yeah, we're gonna rent a shitload of cartoons, then stay in our hotel room watching them.

TOUR GUIDE:Oh! What a waste of a trip to Iceland. Think of all the things you'll be missing out on! Look at the scenery!

{The Tour Guide gestures to a poster on the wall behind him.}

TOUR GUIDE: Wouldn't you like to see that for yourselves? Go hiking, breeeatttthhhheeee in the mountain air?

NACHOMAN: {ladling on the sarcasm} Oh wow, a poster. I'm soooo impressed.

BLUEBRY: Yeah, look, we can just look at the poster. I mean -- "ooh, grass," what else is there to see?!

TOUR GUIDE: But if you pay a visit to Iceland, and do the things that you could've done at home, you've just missed out, my friend!

BLUEBRY: We are not your friend, alright

NACHOMAN: Just tell us where the movie store is.

TOUR GUIDE: I could... direct you to a campsite? Then you could go camping.

BLUEBRY: Look, don't try to tell us about Iceland. We know Iceland. We've watched countless movies from Iceland.

TOUR GUIDE: But watching our media exports isn't the same as being there, y'know?

NACHOMAN:Uh, yeah, it is.

BLUEBRY: Yeah, what do you know about Iceland?

TOUR GUIDE: Lifelong resident. Do you guys like fishing? There's great fishing in Iceland.

NACHOMAN: No! Just tell us where the movies are!

TOUR GUIDE: You could try going up to one of our mountains and skiing or snowboarding. We're great for winter sports here, and they'll be fun, even if you've never tried them before.

BLUEBRY: Stop trying to sell us on the same line of bull you try to sell everybody else on, okay?

NACHOMAN: We are savvy consumers, alright?! You can't pull the wool over our eyes!

TOUR GUIDE: You could try falling off a cliff. We have beautiful cliffs here in Iceland, great for falling off of. And plentiful, too.

BLUEBRY: Oh. Oh. Okay, you're gonna be that way now? We gave you a fair chance, and you blew it. You happy now?!

NACHOMAN: Way to waste our time.

BLUEBRY: Way, to, waste, our, time.

NACHOMAN: We'll just check our iPhones instead.

BLUEBRY: And our iPads.

TOUR GUIDE: WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST DO THAT IN THE... Hhave a nice day.

BLUEBRY: Thanks.

{Bluebry and NachoMan leave.}

BLUEBRY: Thanks... for nothing!

NACHOMAN: Aw snap, you really got him with that one, bro!

{Bluebry and NachoMan share the sweetest high-five ever recorded. Then they laugh. The Tour Guide resumes his/her duties, now significantly more down-trodden. He/she gets hit with an egg.}

{Cut: the subway. Skub, Brooksie, Chwoka, and Noid walk onto the train when the doors open, doing the exact same thing they were doing when we left them. The still somehow haven't ran out of food yet, but they are running low. The train is lively, but not crowded, with white people, because nobody who's not white wants to go to Iceland. They are talking about white people things, like the Gap and Arcade Fire.}

CHWOKA: But --

SKUB: Shut UP.

{Skub throws some more food.}

CHWOKA: Just --

SKUB: Shut ALL of your ups!

{Skub throws the last of the food. The gang finally finds four seats, right next to each other. The crackly intercom, presumably the driver, switches on.}

CRACKLY INTERCOM: Current location: New York City. Next Stop: Iceland.

CHWOKA: White.

NOID: raaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

{Noid gets out of his seat and shakes Chwoka by his shirt while screaming in his face. Chwoka begins to cry, just a little bit. Skub and Brooksie try, without any success, to try and scrape Noid off of Chwoka.}

BROOKSIE: Jesus, Noid, hold up a little!

NOID: Yo, you try and put a black guy in a gang, but we ain’t gonna let you put a black guy in a gan--

SKUB: Now you're just quoting Flava Flav! Flava Flav!

CHWOKA: Black.

{Noid moves on to choking Chwoka.}

SKUB: {at Chwoka} YOU'RE NOT HELPING YOUR CASE HERE.

{Brooksie takes out a rag and puts chloroform on it, then puts it on Noid's mouth while Skub holds his head back.}

BROOKSIE: Shh, shh, it's all good now, everything's gonna be alright...

{Noid falls limp to the floor, but is lowered gently by Brooksie and Skub, because they are responsible friends who don't give other friends concussions. Unlike Noid. Chwoka recovers from his harrowing experience.}

SKUB: {not sardonic} Good night, sweet prince...

{Skub kisses Noid good night on the forehead.}

BROOKSIE: Should we put him down?

SKUB: No, no. Not yet.

{Skub and Brooksie sit back down, leaving Noid on the floor.}

CHWOKA: You know, it's really amazing --

BROOKSIE: Let me guess: how many white people are on this train?

CHWOKA: No, I was gonna say "that the door hasn't shut yet." Like, seriously, what's the holdup? Besides, there's some black passengers in the next cabin over.

{Skub and Brooksie get real fidgety all of a sudden.}

SKUB: Oh. B-b-black passengers?

BROOKSIE: You don't say.

CHWOKA: Yeah, totally.

SKUB: ...I... think I left my... wallet... at the apartment.

BROOKSIE: I think I left your wallet at the apartment too.

SKUB: Yes, we should probably go back to the apartment, and, get, the wallet.

BROOKSIE: We will probably end up missing the train, though!

SKUB: Oh. What a shame.

BROOKSIE: Come on Chwoka, let's go get that wallet!

{Brooksie drags Chwoka off the train as Skub and he leaves. Noid is left behind.}

{Cut: An Icelandic movie store. Bluebry and NachoMan enter through the automatic sliding doors, then stop. Bluebry takes a deep breath in, despite being indoors and all the frest air being outside.}

BLUEBRY: Mmm. Smell that air. You smellin' this air?

NACHOMAN: Oh yeah, you know it.

BLUEBRY: Hella air.

{Bluebry and NachoMan just stand there for a moment.}

NACHOMAN: ...LAST ONE TO THE CARTOON AISLE IS A ROTTEN EGG!

{NachoMan runs off!}

BLUEBRY: Oh you are ON i HATE rotted food

{Bluebry takes off.}

NACHOMAN: I'm already halfway there! Halfway there! Halfway there! Halfway there!

{NachoMan beats Bluebry to the cartoon aisle.}

NACHOMAN: Ha ha! Looks like you're a rotten egg. Now nobody will want to eat you.

BLUEBRY: No fair, you got a head start.

NACHOMAN: {mocking} "No fair, you got a head start!" That's YOU. That is YOU! ...Stop being so childish.

BLUEBRY: Let's just do what we came here for.

NACHOMAN: You're just a sore loser.

{Bluebry selects some DVDs carefully. NachoMan begins taking them two-at-a-time. Escalation ensues. Bluebry begins shovelling DVDs of cartoons into his arms indiscriminately. NachoMan follows suit. Soon they are tearing through the aisles, knocking DVDs off shelves and dropping them left and right. When they get to the finish line -- the movie checkout counter -- they drop all the DVDs and they cascade off the counter onto the floor.}

BLUEBRY: Okkur langar til að kaupa allar þessar kvikmyndir. [We want to buy all these movies.]

{The movie checkout guy begins picking movies off the floor and scanning them one by one, delicately and slowly.}

MOVIE CHECKOUT GUY: Just like you Americans not to use a shopping cart.

NACHOMAN: How did you know?!

{Bluebry puts a finger over NachoMan's mouth.}

BLUEBRY: Icelandic folk are magic, NachoMan. Magic.

{Cut: Later, outside the movie store. Bluebry and NachoMan exit the movie store, many plastic bags in tow.}

BLUEBRY: I can't believe we spent all of our money on movies!

NACHOMAN: But look at the payload!

{NachoMan lifts up his bags and they all break.}

NACHOMAN: Ah well, I didn't care about those ones anyway.

BLUEBRY: So worth it.

{SMASH CUT: ICELANDIC MOTEL LOBBY, THAT NIGHT}

BLUEBRY: what do you mean we have to pay money to sleep in your motel room

{Cut: The apartment, next morning. Skub and Brooksie are playing ping-pong against the wall while sitting side-by-side on the couch. Chwoka is in the kitchen, still blind, and spilling coffee all over himself in the attempt to drink it throughout the scene. The doorbell rings!

BLACK NEIGHBOR: {on the other side of the door} You left a newspaper in the communal mailboxes.

{Sexy music begins playing.}

BLACK NEIGHBOR: Here it comes...

{The Black Neighbor pushes a newspaper, unrolled, through the mail slot in the door. The sexy music stops playing. Skub gets up and picks up the newspaper.}

SKUB: Hey, he already read this!

BROOKSIE: Typical.

{Pause.}

BROOKSIE: Of black people, I mean.

CHWOKA: Actually, I think my vision's coming back!

SKUB: Oh do you

CHWOKA: Yeah!!! Let me have that newspaper!

SKUB: Catch!

{Skub throws the newspaper like a shotput (after spinning around a few times) and it hits Chwoka in the face.}

CHWOKA: Dude. I still have the bandages on.

SKUB: well sorry okay?!?!

BROOKSIE: You're not really sorry you human slug.

{Chwoka takes the bandages off of his sunglasses, then takes his sunglasses off, and takes the bandages under those off, revealing another pair of sunglasses, which he takes off and begins to read. Skub and Brooksie have taken the opportunity to centralize in the kitchen and read over Chwoka's shoulder.}

CHWOKA: {reading, struggling as his vision comes back but I am not about to type that out} "TRAIN HIJACKED, DERAILED. EVERYBODY DEAD."

SKUB: Wow, how wonderful!

{Pause.}

SKUB: I mean, about your vision coming back. Not about the death.

{Brooksie attempts to casually take the newspaper from Chwoka, but it turns into some sort of bizarre struggle and mumbled argument. Brooksie gains the upper hand.}

BROOKSIE: Hey, it says here that that was OUR train!

SKUB: Wow, Chwoka! You're totally cleared of charges of racism.

CHWOKA: The mugshot is of a white guy.

SKUB: Totally. Cleared.

CHWOKA: And I don't see how this proves I'm not racist.

SKUB: Looks like you were right all along, ha ha ha ha ha!

BROOKSIE: Now, who wants ice cream?

{Skub and Chwoka get really excited and Brooksie opens the cupboard behind him to reveal it is full of nothing but perfect ice cream cones.}

END ACT III

TAG

{Cut: Iceland, night. Bluebry and NachoMan are shivering in the cold Icelandic wilderness, their bags by their sides. They have started a small bonfire of video tapes, and are stoking it with sticks.}

BLUEBRY: God, I hate the stupid beautiful Icelandic scenery.

NACHOMAN: ...I think the fire is dying.

{NachoMan reaches for another movie to burn, but Bluebry grabs his arm and stops him.}

BLUEBRY: No! That one’s my favorite!

NACHOMAN: You said that about the last one too!

{NachoMan breaks free of Bluebry’s grip and throws the movie into the fire. There is a long, tense pause.}

BLUEBRY: Iceland sucks.

END TAG