(even if you aren't vegan)
RiffText/WUWEdition
{Open: Raiku, Chwoka, Bluebry, JCM, and Badstar in a conference room. Minutes-long pause, as the scene cuts around to people looking thoughtful. Raiku throws a pencil into the ceiling.}
RAIKU: I've got it.
{Everyone looks at Raiku.}
RAIKU: What if we made a story about racers? I'd be the head writer, of course.
{Pause. The pencil falls from the ceiling and stabs Raiku in the eye.}
NOXIGAR: Even though it's Raiku I'm not sure why a pencil stabbing him in the eye constitutes a punchline.
CUE THEME SONG
{Open: Chwoka and Bluebry West-Winging it out of the boardroom.}
BLUEBRY: So, you're gay, right?
CHWOKA: That's you.
BLUEBRY: No, no, no, I was wondering if you were too.
CHWOKA: No — we can only have one token gay, remember?
NOXIGAR: That's a pretty stupid rule if I ever heard one.
{Chwoka takes a left turn.}
BLUEBRY: Y-yeah...
{Bluebry takes out a framed picture of Chwoka and cries on it silently. Cut: NachoMan's cubical. Chwoika walks by, but NachoMan rolls over and grabs him.}
NACHOMAN: So, word 'round the office says you're taking drugs to enhance your creativity.
CHWOKA: Well, I haven't, okay?
NACHOMAN: Then explain this scene.
{Nachoman pops in a VCR tape to a VCR.}
CHWOKA: Why do we still have VCRS?
NOXIGAR: Good question. I don't think this'll get answered by the end of the writing, though.
{ClassicTM Prog Rock plays throughout the scene. A character, Jim, is on screen in a car driving through a windy road. An infrared filter is applied.}
JIM: The winds and turns... they go back and forth... it's almost hypnotic. Compels me to turn the steering wheel. Like, it's not me driving the car, it's the road driving the car who is driving me.
JIM: I WILL BREAK FREE OF THE OPPRESSIVE ROAD. I AM MY OWN MAN.
{The car flies away.}
CHWOKA: Damn it...
NOXIGAR: "I told you nitwits that tape was stupid and too riffable!"
{Storms off, taking the tape with him. Cut: Bell, high on pot, is in the editing room. Smoke fills the place. Chwoka slams open the door.}
CHWOKA: Alright, what's the deal with this? {holds up the tape}
BELL: Well, man, the infrared filter looked so good on it, man, so I thought I'd—
NOXIGAR: Infrared filter? What? I- {sighs} This is true madness invoked by my lack of understanding this script.
CHWOKA: And the script?
BELL: I rewrote it.
CHWOKA: Damn it, this is supposed to be a metaphor for Communism! Why didn't you just follow the script, you are the cameraman.
NOXIGAR: "I WILL BREAK FREE OF THE OPPRESSIVE ROAD. I AM MY OWN MAN."
BELL: Well, the thing is, uh, {laughs and points to the pot he is smoking.}
CHWOKA: {raging} YOU SMOKED IT?
{Noxigar high-fives Bell}
BELL: Pfft, yeah. {giggles} Don't worry though, man, it's totally cool. I rewrote it all, start to finish, from memory.
CHWOKA: ...while you were high.
BELL: Yeah.
CHWOKA: Then submitted it under my name.
BELL: Yeah, man! {cracks up}
CHWOKA: Great, now I'm gonna have an asterix next to my name.
NOXIGAR: Chances are what Bell wrote would have been awesome. Unfortunately, we're dispelling Bell's awesomeness once again for some really stupid reason.
{Chwoka sits down.}
CHWOKA: ...Bell? Why do you smoke?
BELL: It's like creative steroids, man.
CHWOKA: How many times do I have to tell you? You're not creative with or without pot.
NOXIGAR: "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm THE protagonist, and you cannot root for me under any circumstances despite this."
{Chwoka leaves. Cut: Bluebry alone in his room, crying.}
BLUEBRY: Oh my sweet ones; may I ever have you? If I shant, I shant.
NOXIGAR: Pretty sure there's supposed to be apostrophes.
{Bluebry takes out a razor blade, when Brooksie throws open the doors.}
BROOKSIE: Daddy's home.
{Bluebry runs into Brooksie's arms, and they hug. Cut: JCM and Badstar leaning on each other's cubicle walls.}
JCM: Well, um, now that Raiku is a goner...
BADSTAR: May he rest in peace.
JCM: I got an email —
BADSTAR: {childish curiosity} Email? What's that?
JCM: Messages sent through the internet. I got a message that —
BADSTAR: Messages? What are those?
JCM: You know what, Badstar? Messages are like back rubs.
BADSTAR: I like back rubs!
JCM: ...right. Basically, we need new talent in the place. They say it's just not working for them
BADSTAR: Who're "They"?
JCM: You know what? A brick wall. Why don't you run off and talk to Them by running into Them repeatedly. They speak in Morse Code.
NOXIGAR: I get the feeling Badstar and JCM's characterizations would be awesome if they weren't so horribly inaccurate among a number of other flaws.
{Badstar runs off}
JCM: Alright, I'll just take Eric with me instead.
{Cut: Brick wall standup. Comic 1 is on stage.}
COMIC 1: WOMEN
{Comic 2 is on stage}
COMIC 2: That's not a mattress, that's a fat lady!
{Comic 3 is on the stage}
COMIC 3: You know what time it is? It's time for peanut brittle!
{Comic 3 opens up a can of peanut brittle into the audience, launching multiple fake snake-things.}
COMIC 3: Hahahaha but no, seriously, return those after the show.
{Comci 4 is on stage}
COMIC 4: Boy, I sure do love internet memes!
{SkullB is on stage}
SKULLB: ...and I just whop him in the face. {laughter} I didn't really, but it would be cool if I did, right? {laughter} No, I was afraid he might have been a serial killer, or a mobster, or an astronaut, or something. {laughter} Later that day, I saw him again. Stared him down, I did. Then I whopped him in the face. {laughter} Then it turned out it was the wrong guy. {laughter} Turned out it was my long lost uncle. {laughter}
{Cut: JCM and Eric nod to each other. Cut: After the show. JCM and Eric walk up to SkullB in the locker room.}
JCM: We saw your act out there tonight.
SKULLB: What of it?
ERIC: Well, how would you like to be on television?
SKULLB: That's my name, don't wear it out.
ERIC: Are you even listening to us?
SKULLB: Yes, of course I'll give you an autograph. Who do I make this out to?
NOXIGAR: This scene is confusing and I'm not sure if it's due to how clunky the communication flow is or if I am just not capable of finding this funny.
{Cut: The boardroom, now with one less Raiku and one more Skullbuggy. Again, a minute or so of thinking.}
SKULLB: What if they played a game of Jeopardy instead of The Price is Right?
{Chattering agreement amongst the writers ensue, and Chwoka begins writing notes on the hitherto unmentioned and blank whiteboard. Cut: the lunchroom. Eric and Shadow Scythe are drinking coffee.}
ERIC: God, have you seen that thing Chwoka wrote while high?
CHWOKA: {off-screen} I did not write that!
SHADOW SCYTHE: Don't take the Lord's name in vain!
{Shadow Scythe storms off. Cut: The hallway, where Shadow Scythe goes into Nyjole's cubicle.}
NYJOLE: Why do I have to sleep in the file cabinet, Shadow?
NOXIGAR: Holy crap, this is tragic!
{Shadow Scythe gives a reassuring nod and a warm smile. Then leaves. Cut: Foley room. Ninjaduck and Brooksie are in a needlessly complex Rube Goldberg machine involving a TV antenna, speakers, bowling balls, a teapot.}
NINJADUCK: Now if we cover the tape recorder with leaves, it should give it a crunchier, muffled sound.
BROOKSIE: I'm thinking we should probably scream into the contraption from outside.
{Shadow Scythe walks in, to applause.}
NINJADUCK: Oh, hey, Scythe. What's the AV Club doing in here? {snicker}
SHADOW SCYTHE: I thought this was the AV Club room...
NOXIGAR: Now Ninjaduck hurt Shadow Scythe's feelings.
BROOKSIE: Oh, that. We kinda used all that stuff for this.
{Cut: Outside. Brooskie and Ninajduck go through the window, and the noise sets off the contraption.}
NINJADUCK: Were we recording?
BROOKSIE: Yeah, but I think we should run it through a distortion pedal next.
NOXIGAR: Note-to-self: Now that I already know what bukkake is, maybe look up whatever distortion pedals are.
{Cut: Chwoka's office. He is slumping over his desk, hands on head.}
CHWOKA: So the copy editor won't stop being high, and the video editors have had equipment cannibalized by the sound editors.
TJ: Yes sir.
CHWOKA: Get me a drink.
TJ: What do I look like, a butler? Nah, I kid, what do you want me to get you?
CHWOKA: Kid, leave the joking around to the professionals. Go get me several strong Intelligents.
NOXIGAR: Several Strong Intelligents? I mean, one Strong Intelligent is awesome enough, but several?
{Chwoka is crying into his paperwork.}
CHWOKA: What am I going to do?
STRONG INTELLIGENT: I know what you can do.
{Chwoka looks at the drink, dumbfounded.}
CHWOKA: Did you just talk?
STRONG INTELLIGENT: Yes, Chwoka, and I can show you the way!
{Cut: Chwoka running down the hallway without his slacks on, whooping and hollering. Chwoka makes a left turn into Bell's office.}
CHWOKA: Bell, you are ffffffired!
NOXIGAR:I saw this coming...
BELL: What? Why?
CHWOKA: We have got a replacement!
{Chwoka muscles Badstar in, who is passing by.}
CHWOKA: This rookie here is our new cameraman! Director! Editor! Whatever it is that you do!
BADSTAR: I did take photography in college
CHWOKA: So get out and pack your stuff!
BELL: Why am I fired?
CHWOKA: Because of substance abuse problems!
{Beat.}
BADSTAR:
NOXIGAR: Why do you have two displays of the same Beat panel?
CHWOKA: Shut up, whiteface, I'm the boss!
{Chwoka shoves Badstar over. Cut: The set of Doggie Emails.}
BADSTAR: Alright, folks, let's get this thing off the ground! Doggie, you are answering your email when Kittie interrupts you. Places everybody!
{Badstar gets up on the camera rig.}
BADSTAR: And... Action!
{Pan to the left, where Chwoka is talking to Brooksie.}
CHWOKA: Hey, Brooksie, I'm really happy for you making your writing debut and all, but I've got an issue. This scene, where Doggie has to perform lung surgery on NachoMan when a black hole attacks... I'm not entirely sure we have the special effects budget for that.
BROOKSIE: But 
CHWOKA: Oh. Well, if that's the case...
{Doggie opens his mouth as if to say "Hand me a scalpel", but Kittie understands before he says a word. They share a brief moment of romantic tension as their eyes lock, but Doggie decides to get back to business before NachoMan dies of cancer.}
KITTIE: Meow purr.
NACHOMAN: Comet! Get out!
NACHOMAN: Doggie, I'd like to thank you once again, but I have something to tell you... I have a black hole inside my ribcage.
{Doggie is too late and opens up NachoMan, and the black hole sucks in Kittie and then Comet.}
NOXIGAR: This is hands-down my favorite scene.
{Zoom out: The writer's board (Chwoka, Bluebry, SkullB, JCM, Brooksie) watching the thing on their projector.}
CHWOKA: Doggie Emails is a breakout hit.
BLUEBRY: That Doggie sure is one cool cat.
SKULLB: meow
CHWOKA: meow
BROOKSIE: meow
BLUEBRY: meow
JCM: I didn't like it.
NOXIGAR: Why is that "breakout hit" scene not in Doggie Emails proper?
NOXIGAR: Also you're not the only one who didn't actually like it, JCM.
{Beat}
CHWOKA: Looks like we have a new janitor, people!
{Cut: JCM out in the hallway in a jumpsuit mopping the carpeting. NachoMan pops his head over his cubicle.}
NACHOMAN: Hey, look who's doing the manual labor!
JCM: I'm doing more work than you.
NACHOMAN: Aw hell knaw
NOXIGAR: Wow they inccurately did "aw hell naw" on purpose; okay onto the next drawn-out scene.
{JCM leans on his mop}
JCM: Really? What do you do, then?
NACHOMAN: Look sexxxy.
JCM: What were you hired to do?
NACHOMAN: ...look sexxxy?
JCM: I'm pretty sure that's not an actual position. Let me see your nameplate.
{NachoMan puts a crude paper triangle on the wall, reading "Sexxxy-Looking Guy".}
NOXIGAR: How many times is NachoMan going to spell that/pronounce that wrong?
JCM: What you're saying, then, is that you don't actually have a job.
{Pause}
JCM: {hollering} Yo, boss!
{Chwoka walks up.}
CHWOKA: Yes, janitor who doesn't deserve a name?
NOXIGAR: This guy already passed the Byronic Horizon and is not even close to redeemable at this point. Why is he the protagonist again?
JCM: This NachoMan fellow doesn't actually work here.
CHWOKA: {to JCM} Well, what have we been paying him for?
NACHOMAN: Looking sexxy.
NOXIGAR: One less x and then you've spelt it right and not look like a complete tool in the process.
CHWOKA: {to NachoMan} Well, I'm not sure we need that. How would you like a job here?
JCM: You aren't going to kick him out?
NACHOMAN: Very much, sir.
CHWOKA: Well, good then. Are you good at math?
NACHOMAN: Mmm no, I'm afraid I've got "D"s in every math class dating back to 4th Grade.
CHWOKA: Are you good at acting much?
NACHOMAN: I'm afraid not, sir.
CHWOKA: Well what about editing?
NACHOMAN: No.
JCM: Hey, why not give him a job as a janitor?
CHWOKA: Shut up janitor, the people are talking. Well, then, how'd you like to be on the board of directors?
NOXIGAR: This is going to end badly.
NACHOMAN: I'd like that very much, sir.
JCM: YOU'RE GIVING HIM MY JOB?
CHWOKA: Of course not, NachoMan's sexxxy looks can't be wasted on ammonia and manual labor.
NOXIGAR: Chwoka is incorrigible, and I wager this universe's NachoMan doesn't know the meaning of the word.
NACHOMAN: I might break a nail!
CHWOKA: He might break a nail! Come on, NachoMan, let's stop talking to the underclassmen. Now, then,
{Chwoka and NachoMan walk away together.}
CHWOKA: How does twenty thousand a week sound for you?
{Cut: Call center. The thousands of never-make-an-edit accounts are frantically handling phone calls.}
USER 1: ...so why don't you KILL me?! I...
USER 3: ...Dad? Is that you? After all these...
USER 2: ...Well, you are wrong, according to this obscure golf rule that applies to Texas Hold 'em...
USER 5: ...Yes! Of course I'll marry you!...
USER 4: ...and then I was like "Oh my god! No way!" and did you see NOID's hair the other day and...
{Chwoka and Bluebry walk in.}
CHWOKA: Why do we have a call center?
BLUEBRY: Telethons.
CHWOKA: ...and when's the last time we ran a telethon?
BLUEBRY: 1976.
CHWOKA: Huh.
NOXIGAR: At least there's nothing wrong with telethons.
{Bluebry and Chwoka walk out. Cut: The hallway, where Bluebry and Chwoka.}
BLUEBRY: So, wanna go do white people things?
CHWOKA: Why now?
BLUEBRY: Well, think about it — NachoMan is Hispanic or Asian or something, I think SkullB was programmed to be ghetto, and Brooksie is so white he's black.
CHWOKA: Well, what type of stuff do white people do?
{Flannel shirts suddenly appear on Bluebry and Chwoka}
BLUEBRY: I've been saving these babies up for just such an occasion.
CHWOKA: Wow! Where did these come from?
BLUEBRY: Shh! {sniffs} I smell...
CHWOKA: What? What do you smell?
BLUEBRY: ...rap music. Follow my lead.
{Bluebry takes a left turn, and Chwoka follows. Cut: The ghetto, graffitied section of the office, where 5 black people hang out, listening to an old boombox playing terrible public license beatboxing. Bluebry and Chwoka run by and take the boombox.}
CHWOKA: What now?
BLUEBRY: Are you hungry? I'm hungry.
{Cut: Bluebry and Chwoka sipping coffee at this little underground joint Bluebry knows about.}
CHWOKA: This is really good.
{Chwoka takes a gulp.}
BLUEBRY: You're doing it wrong. You sip.
CHWOKA: Well, what now?
{Cut: Chwoka and Bluebry standing at (not a parody) Modern Art in a museum.}
CHWOKA: ...is it wrong to legitimately like this?
BLUEBRY: Sure you do.
CHWOKA: No, I actually like it.
{Cut: A rave. Chwoka and Bluebry are raving it up.}
CHWOKA: Wow, you're right! I don't see a single colored person here!
BLUEBRY: Yeah, I'm always right.
CHWOKA: Is that girl over there naked?
BLUEBRY: It's not a real rave without nudity. {wink}
{Cut: Chwoka and Bluebry sitting on an inside stoop in front of Chwoka's office with the boombox from earlier playing indie music.}
BLUEBRY: Indie music is the only music we are allowed to listen to as 18-30 year old white males.
CHWOKA: But we were just at a rave.
BLUEBRY: Nobody goes to raves.
{Cut: A gang steals the boombox while Bluebry and Chwoka are scared up against the wall. The gang runs away.}
CHWOKA: Well, that was new.
BLUEBRY: Are you hurt?
CHWOKA: Yeah, kinda.
BLUEBRY: Oh, I've got just the thing...
{Bluebry reaches into his bag of tricks and takes out
some crystal or something I don't know. He proceeds to rub it all over Chwoka's face.}
CHWOKA: What is this do—
BLUEBRY: Sshhhh...
{Bluebry rubs in circles, lower and lower, then just stuffs the crystal down Chwoka's pants}
BLUEBRY: Do you feel better now?
CHWOKA: No. What else you got?
CHWOKA: W-what?
NOXIGAR: Honestly that's my only capable response to all of those really bad scenes checklisting "What White People Can Do." Not even your Modern Art museum was a parody? Really?
{Chwoka backs away slowly. Cut: The accountant's desk. Kirbychu HR'd is sitting down, talking to Chwoka.}
CHWOKA: So, how's the money situation?
KIRBYCHU: Doggie Emails rocketed us to the #1 station.
CHWOKA: #1 in money?
KIRBYCHU: #1 during sweeps.
CHWOKA: So, we have money now. How much?
{Kirbychu picks up the ledger and shows it to Chwoka. Long pause, as Chwoka stands flabbergasted.}
CHWOKA: That's more money than I've ever had... I'll need to sit on this...
{Cut: An old abandoned room. A desk has been placed up, which Shadow Scythe stands at. The rest of the AV Club sits pow-wow style around.}
NOXIGAR: I wish I knew what an AV Club was
SHADOW SCYTHE: Gentlemen, the foley crew has launched an offensive on our territories. Now then, this situation needs some finesse —
ERIC: I think we should kill them! In the night! With a knife!
SHADOW SCYTHE: Now, now, Eric, let's not lower ourselves to their level. Any proposals for tactics?
MICAH: {spits up all over self}
AUSSIE EVIL: Why don't we steal their room?
SHADOW SCYTHE: Nah, too obvious.
ERIC: You know what's not obvious? Killing them. In the night. With a knife.
MICAH: sfffgsfhgfgfs
AUSSIE EVIL: Expanding on Eric's idea, we should give them haircuts. In the night. With a knife.
SHADOW SCYTHE: No! We need to take land!
ERIC: Let's take the fertile grounds of their girlfriends.
{Aussie Evil Eric no-look high five}
NOXIGAR: Actually Eric wins the Best Suggestion Contest. Or, he would win that Contest if not for Bluebry being homosexual and then there's also the fact this universe's Chwoka and co. are probably douchebaggy enough where they don't actually have girlfriends. I didn't even think Choom Wikihood, despite being told I wasn't supposed to root for the protagonists in that pile of awful, had them being this horribly cruel to everyone else around them.
SHADOW SCYTHE: Alright, I'VE got an idea at least. Let's move location to across the hall from the foley headquarters.
MICAH: hurgfs
AUSSIE EVIL: Then it's war!
SHADOW SCYTHE: I'm pretty sure that's taking it too far.
ERIC: War? What is it good for?
MICAH: WHO IS SLADE
SHADOW SCYTHE: WHO IS SLADE
AUSSIE EVIL: WHO IS SLADE
{Cut: Just outside the room. You can hear cries of "WHO IS SLADE" constantly. SkullB walks by, but stops.}
SKULLB: {shouting} DEATHSTROKE!
{Silence}
SKULLB: ...did I just out-geek the AV club?
NOXIGAR: Yes, and it was actually fairly decent since there was no John Green involved.
ERIC: {inside} You do your Deathstrokes in a Deadpool!
SKULLB: Ah, all is right with the universe again.
{SkullB walks away. Moments later, the AV Club starts yelling "ODDISH" constantly. Cut: SkullB's office, where the AV Club now is. SkullB walks in.}
SKULLB: Okay, what are you guys doing here?
{Aussie Evil shoves over SkullB's desk.}
AUSSIE EVIL: THE REVOLUTION WILL NOT BE TELEVISED
MICAH: {vomits into the "OUT" basket}
SKULLB: Oh come on, how did he even get in here?
SHADOW SCYTHE: Look SkullB, I am sorry, but we need to commandeer your office for military use.
SKULLB: For some reason, I don't trust you with firearms.
ERIC: But I've got a real good rubber band gun! Wanna see?
SKULLB: N-No thanks.
ERIC: I've also got some old consoles, wanna see those?
SKULLB: I'm good.
AUSSIE EVIL: Shh! I think I hear them coming!
SKULLB: I'm not getting involved in this B-Plot. Possibly even C-Plot.
NOXIGAR: Every plot in WUW Edition! automatically qualifies as an F-Plot.
{SkullB walks out. Cut: Outside SkullB's office. SkullB exits, then Ninajduck walks by. The door to SkullB's office opens and Shadow Scythe throws an eraser at Ninjaduck's head. Cut: An auditorium. The entire company has been packed into the seats. Chwoka walks out.}
CHWOKA: Gentlemen.
SHADOW SCYTHE: GENTLEMEN.
NOXIGAR: GENTLEMEN
{Noxigar goes rabid and pretends to slash at every character on the screen with a chainsaw katana.}
{The AV Club goes aflutter with Team Fortress 2 jokes.}
CHWOKA: ...gentlemen, we have recently come into a lot of month.
TJ: How much?
CHWOKA: Like, so much! Moving on,
BADSTAR: Was it acquired illegal
CHWOKA: I am not going to dignify that with a response. As you know, our big competitor for the TV show business, Choom Ltd., has fallen on hard times. Their fresh, edgy, newness (as opposed to our stale oldness that we've carefully cultivated for 80 years) has worn off, and they're having some trouble replacing their new car smell with old car smell. Bad news for them, but good new for us. Ladies and Gentlemen,
ERIC: GENTLEMEN.
CHWOKA: The former employees of Choom Ltd!
- Sephiroth
SEPHIROTH: My parents named me after a video game.
ERIC: {Offscreen, distant} VIDEO GAME
- Noxigar
NOXIGAR: I forgot what I do or say!
NOXIGAR: I read this as "Chwoka pretty much was too lazy to give me a characterization more unpleasant than anybody else in Choom Ltd. so he pretty much just made me clueless and/or as much of a living prop as possible." I have about a 95% chance of being right.
- Strong Rad
STRONG RAD: {spits up all over self}
- The Red Rumbleman
THE RED RUMBLEMAN: {calm as can't be} Rumble the bumble!
- Chaos
CHAOS: Follow the rules, everybody!!!!!!!!!!!!
NOXIGAR: Too many exclamation points.
- X On Fire
X ON FIRE: OH GOD AHHH GET IT OFF OF ME OH GOD AHHHHHHHHHHHH {dies, never to come back, nobody cares}
- Lunar Jesters
JESTY: My father's name was Lunar Jesters, call me Jesty, please!
- Joshua
JOSHUA: Jesty is lame.
{RIP Thatkidsam}
NOXIGAR: Actually I remember Lunar Jesty being one of my favorites amongst the sysops or whatever.
- Sam The Man
SAM THE MAN: I'm so sorry, everybody.
- Zoo
ZOO: I'm so endearing and wacky it hurts!
{Zoo trips over Strong Rad.}
ZOO: See what I mean?
- Noid
{Noid rains all over everybody's literal and figurative parade}
CHWOKA: We hope these new members will be able to integrate smoothly into our company, so let's welcome them with open arms!
{Smash cut for irony: Shadow Scythe, Eric, Micah, and Aussie Evil beating the crap out of Sephiroth.}
AUSSIE EVIL: Ooh you little pretty boy, eh? Workin' for the foley crew?
SHADOW SCYTHE: SCYTHE to meet you!
ERIC: Then I say something!
{Cut: Micah and Strong Rad.}
MICAH: {spits up all over Strong Rad}
STRONG RAD: {vice versa}
MICAH: hurgrhoaogb
{Cut: the office, forward tracking Steadicam shot in slow motion. Kirbychu HR'd, X on Fire, and Sam the Man are in a triangle formation. Sam The Man kicks down a cubicle wall, Kirbychu HR'D clotheslines a printer right off a table, and X on Fire kicks over a water cooler.}
{Cut: Noxigar and Zoo sitting in their joint cubicle.}
NOXIGAR: Sure do miss the old place.
ZOO: Yup.
NOXIGAR: Are all of these scenes supposed to be terribly mundane and boring to sift through?
{Cut: The boardroom, which is now revealed to be larger than shown. The Red Rumbleman, Bluebry, Jesty, Joshua, SkullB, Brooksie, The Noid, and NachoMan look at Chwoka, standing at the end of the table.}
CHWOKA: Look, guys — can I call you that?
THE RED RUMBLEMAN: I'd prefer us to be called Mr. Guys.
JESTY: No, please, Mr. Guys was my fathers' name.
{RIP Futuramooey}
NOID: Why would you call us names? You're mean.
CHWOKA: Well, in order to make this transition more comfortable for all of us, we are no longer the Board of Directors or the Board of Writers, we are all the Chooms.
{Chwoka sidesteps and underlines the word "CHOOMS" on the whiteboard behind him. Chill instrumental reprise of the theme tune, as we cut around to all the Chooms individually, each with a nod. Except Noid, who throws a little hissy fit. Cut: The AV Club.}
SHADOW SCYTHE: Gentlemen,
AUSSIE EVIL: GENTLEMEN
STRONG RAD: {oops}
SHADOW SCYTHE: the foley crew have not yet made their move! Now we must strike while the iron is hot!
ERIC: Already taken care of.
MICAH: hsgfghth
SHADOW SCYTHE: Eric... what did you do?
ERIC: I killed them.
{Cut: Chwoka, at his desk, very stressed out, talking to Kirbychu.}
CHWOKA: In the night?
KIRBYCHU HR'D: With a knife, yes.
CHWOKA: Jesus Crust...
{JCM peeks in.}
JCM: Yes?
{Shadow Scythe walks in.}
SHADOW SCYTHE: DO NOT TAKE THE LORD'S NAME IN VAIN
CHWOKA: Shadow, I need to talk to you.
SHADOW SCYTHE: Y-yes sir.
{Shadow Scythe sits down. Kirbychu closes the door, which hits JCM in the face.}
CHWOKA: Shadow Scythe, as leader of the AV Club, you let Eric kill somebody.
SHADOW SCYTHE: It was in the night, he was off the clock! What was I supposed to do? I thought he was joking!
CHWOKA: He was your responsibility and now we've got a day until the media has a field day with how our company killed one of our inner chambers.
NOXIGAR: Best part of the entire episode. Go Eric!
{Cut: The Chooms.}
CHWOKA: So, that's our predicament.
BLUEBRY: ...damn.
JESTY: Did not see that one coming.
CHWOKA: So, what do we do?
NACHOMAN: You say "So" a lot, do you know that?
CHWOKA: That's really beside the point here. We need to know how to dodge this.
BLUEBRY: Don't you mean "So, that's really beside the point here?"
{Brooksie/Bluebry no-look high-five. Then they make passionate love on the floor}
NOXIGAR: Suddenly I am happy for Brooksie and Bluebry, even though they turned "make passionate love on the floor" into a complete running joke that I borrowed.
CHWOKA: God, that is just... gross.
NACHOMAN: I think that you're bigoted.
CHWOKA: Alright, remaining people. What do we do?
NOID: I, for one, hate everything and want to see it go away.
CHWOKA: Noid, for once you may have the right idea. If we can somehow remove all the evidence that links us to the murder...
JOSHUA: You know what destroys stuff? Fire.
{Cut around again, and everybody nods their heads and puts on sunglasses. Except Brooksie/Bluebry, who are too busy being on the floor. Cut: The outside of the building, where all the Chooms are pouring gasoline on the walls. Cut: The chooms in a straight horizontal line, smoking cigarettes.}
SKULLB: So.
CHWOKA: So.
NOXIGAR: So...?
{Chwoka flicks a cigarette butt into the bushes, and soon the entire building is aflame. None of the Chooms lose their cool as we cut around to different angles of the entire building on fire. Cut inside, where Eric is holding on to his old consoles as the fire rages around him while he sheds a single tear. JCM is trying to save people, but a ceiling falls on top of him. Cut back outside, as the building collapses.}
NOXIGAR: Give no focus to any of the decent characters, and instead focus almost exclusively on all the douchebag protagonists who I cannot like. This is exactly why I abhor Scott Pilgrim, and a few other works that have protagonists all too Byronic to qualify as Byronic anymore due to the writer(s) trying too hard to give them flaws and it completely biting them in the ass, or otherwise making the main protagonist worshipped by the rest of the province despite the main guy being a jackass who no one should ever like. This is why I have a gigantic tendency to root for the antagonists in many of the works I despise, as the BAD GUYS are savorier people than the GOOD GUYS in this pile of rank trash. I already understand why I liked Organization XIII so much. Because the protagonists of Kingdom Hearts were starting to piss me off already by the beginning of Kingdom Hearts 2.
NOXIGAR: Also there's just the simple fact you cannot write people to be awful and then expect anyone to sit through your work. There are more than enough shows like that on Comedy Central, and most of them suck. Actually, pretty much all of those shows on Comedy Central that involve protagonists being giant tools, so anything like Workaholics or It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia, I would immediately find to be a trainwreck not worth my time ever. I would not mind if they gave these characters development or anything like it, but most of the time people operate under a Tim Buckley-esque mindset of "No, our author avatars are too awesome/funny to change" and then once the hammer hits 'em on the head with how awful their characters and writing are, many of them attempt to reboot their series even though it sometimes just needs to age like a fine wine.
NOXIGAR: The reason I riff a majority of works the Choom Gang made is because many of them fall under this problem of "the focus is on the intentionally incorrigible protagonists." The AV Club is just as bad as the main Chooms, but for different reasons not having to do with geekiness and more to do with increased moral ambiguity going the wrong way. I wish I could operate in a world full of Grey, but the Grey is too easy to manipulate in things like this where my Black and White chessboard and me playing as Black tends to be a lot more quality. And the reason I pick Black is because the chess pieces look infinitely cooler in that colour than they would in White.
{Noxigar takes a deep, deep breath after he has said everything.}
BLUEBRY: What are we going to do now?
SKULLB: Start a new TV station?
THE RED RUMBLEMAN: I don't want to deal with that again.
NACHOMAN: Yeah, I want this to be the last time I kill somebody.
CHWOKA: Hey, I'm with you Skullbuggy.
SKULLB: We'll call it Osmosys Productions. With a Y, because kids love that.
JESTY: Well, I got a job at Something Awful.
NOXIGAR: Congratulations, Lunar Jesty! I wish I had a SomethingAwful forum account, but I'm not sure if I want to rake in the dough for it.
BROOKSIE: Really?
NOID: I hate Something Awful.
BLUEBRY: Brooksie... I've been meaning to ask you...
BROOKSIE: What?
BLUEBRY: ...will you marry me?
BROOKSIE: Yes, and so will NachoMan.
{All of the chooms disperse and drive off. Roll credits over footage of the building collapsing.}
THE END
NOXIGAR: Fuckin' finally.
