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Revision as of 14:24, 20 September 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 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 monsters. 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?