.Escape from Land of the Giants Season 2 | By : keithcompany Category: G through L > Land of the Giants Views: 1504 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own the Land of the Giants show, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
(The scene is an office similar to the Lobby at the Exchange. A giant woman with some similarity to Lessala sits at the desk. A giant vaguely similar to Vertag stands beside it. On the desk a police officer in uniform (vaguely Perez-like) holds a woman in restraints. Another woman (not at all like Janet, a jiggle-TV bimbo in a revealing version of Janet’s usual dress) stands beside the two, holding a package)
Janet-slut: Investigator Vernon! We found this in her car! (opens package to reveal a white powder)
Vernon: (reaches down to tap a finger tip in the powder, taste-tests it in the middle of his tongue) Yep. That’s heroin.
Janet-slut: Vernon! (package is flat, powder gone except for little puffs around her)
Police-Perez: (French accent) Hey, Giant! You destroyed the evidence! (suspect smiles triumphantly)
Vernon: Evidence? We don’t need any sticky evidence! We’re the giants! (grabs the suspect, tosses her to the desk.) Lisa! Book ‘er!
Lisa: (catches suspect) Yes, sir! (opens a giant dictionary on her desk, drops the suspect on the page. Suspect manages one brief squeak as she slams the book shut again)
Vernon: That’s not what I meant.
Janet-slut: Oooh, Vernon. Can you do that?
Police-Perez: He does it every week, miss. Just goes to show you what the giants think about humans.
Vernon: (strikes a heroic pose) Another case solved! Rather permanently solved, I should say.
Janet-slut: Does this mean another victory dinner? I haven’t a thing to wear.
Vernon: Perfect! Wear a smile, that’s all you need.
All: (Laughter)
(Everyone freezes and the credits for “Vernon, Giant P.I.” start to roll across the screen. Pull back to see that it’s playing on the screen of a giant handheld. Lessala and Vertag have heads together to watch the display.)
Vertag: (Turning to Lessala) Lisa?
Lessala: It’s not as bad as ‘Vernon.’ Who hates their kid that much?
Vertag: (turns back to desk where Peterson stands) And this is a human ‘sit comm.?’
Peterson: Yes. It’s, a comedy. A situational comedy. Rather analogous to your Entertaining Scenario shows. Plays for a half hour every week.
Lessala: Obviously someone that came through this office is involved. One of the rescuees?
Peterson: Yes. I’d rather not say-
Vertag: Mr. Foster, isn’t it? (Peterson looks surprised) Well, if he’s working out his issues from his time here, more power to him.
Lessala: Can we do a cameo? I think it’d be a hoot.
Vertag: The suggestion that Miss Crane is a bimbo and that I’m romantically involved with her upsets me, though.
Lessala: Yeah, Janet’s way out of your league.
Vertag: That’s what I thought. Janet’ll probably want to sue when she gets back.
Peterson: Uh, yeah. That part bothers the detachment here, too. It’s something… Well, it’ll have to wait for her, though.
Lessala: Are there any more scenarios?
Peterson: Episodes. Yeah, about a half season so far.
Lessala: I’ll go get some snacks.
Vertag: Turnip chips for me, please?
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Roll Titles
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(Janet and Styles are sneaking up onto a desk in an empty hallway, as of an office building or a government one. They look carefully in all directions before they scamper to the phone. Using a pen on the desk they lever the handset out of place. After the clatter they look around some more.)
Janet: I don’t think he’s coming.
Styles: Quick, then! What’s the number for Vertag’s office?
Janet: We’ll just call the operator to connect us.
(They grab the dial, one on each side, and turn it all the way around to the zero. Then they rush to the handset. Janet kneels at the mouthpiece, Styles at the ear.)
Janet: Hello? Operator? I need to be connected to the SID office in-
Styles: Janet, there’s nothing. No signal. It’s dead.
Janet: Damn. What is going on? (They talk as they try to lever the handset back into the cradle)
Styles: I think it’s the same thing that took out my radio. Maybe they set off the EMP to take out the rats?
Janet: You think they might have destroyed all the rats?
Styles: I’d rather not go into the drains to find out…
(Distant cough)
Styles: He’s coming back! Run! (she turns and scampers over the edge of the desk. There is a window over the desk, she grabs the cord to the blinds and slides down to the floor)
(Janet runs after her, but trips on the pen, spilling onto her face and sliding. She gets to the edge of the desk, sees the phone cable snaking over the side, grabs that and slides down behind the desk. There’s a loop in the cable and she only makes it halfway to the floor. She hangs there, unable to climb up or slide lower, unwilling to drop.)
(A security guard walks around the corner and sits at the desk. He puts the phone back the way it should be, shrugs, then puts his feet up and starts to pack a pipe.)
(The desk moves where he leans on it. It presses Janet against the wall. She gasps in pain. On the floor, Styles sees her)
Styles: (whisper) Janet!
Janet: Ack! (coughs)
(The security guard looks around at the sound of the cough, trying to figure out what it was. She manages to avoid another one and he settles)
(Styles runs to the other desk leg and looks around. Sees the relaxed guard with his smoking pipe. Ducks back. Rifles her pockets. Comes up with a sling and bullet. Loads the bullet into the sling and starts spinning it. When it’s at speed and she’s ready, she leans around the corner and lets it fly.)
(There’s a small ‘tink’ sound as the bullet hits the bowl. The giant looks around again. He lifts the pipe back to his lips just as the bullet goes off. Flaming tobacco debris explodes out of the pipe. He yells and falls over backwards, taking the chair with him.)
(Pressure released, Janet drops to the floor and crumples in a heap. Her vocal reaction is lost in the sound of the guard flopping around on the floor slapping at burning material.)
(Styles runs to Janet and helps her move out of sight behind a desk leg. The guard stands, looking around suspiciously. He walks slowly down the hall. Janet and Styles go the opposite direction as fast as Janet can go.)
Janet: A sling?
Styles: Company pride. The Army found out that the Marines were going to be tasked with garrison duty on this planet, started calling us Jarhead Davids.
Janet: And everyone started practicing with slings?
Styles: Yep. Even invited the nearest Army Base to participate in Goliath competition.
Janet: Well, that was a shot to be proud of, Styles.
Styles: Thanks, Janet.
(They duck into a crack in the wall and disappear)
----
(In a shadowed alley a figure moves slowly into view. It turns out to be Lessala, crouching and looking on the ground)
Lessala: Janet? Janet are you around anywhere? (she stops at the end of a trash dumpster. A logo for ‘The Rib Shack’ is painted on the container. A small magnet holds a tiny piece of paper to the bottom. She lifts it, looks at it and replaces it.) Crap.
Vertag: (stepping into view from behind her) Is this why dinner is always cold? There are about four rib places between here and the office.
Lessala: (whipping around to face him) Vertag! It’s not what you think!
Vertag: You’re leaving notes for missing Earthlings at various points in town and checking on them regularly during your lunch hour.
Lessala: No, it’s…oh. Yeah.
Vertag: Any luck?
Lessala: (sagging) No.
(A back door opens and a man dressed as a short-order cook steps out with a paper sack)
Cook: Miss? Your order’s ready.
Vertag: Got it. (They walk to the end of the alley. There’s a small area of picnic tables. They sit at one and break out the food) Why dumpsters?
Lessala: I guessed it would be the easiest place for them to find food without risking discovery.
Vertag: No one guards the dumpsters against little scavengers. (nods) How many places do you check?
Lessala: A dozen or so.
Vertag: There are about sixty two dining facilities in Coastal City proper.
Lessala: Yeah, but I can’t check all of them.
Vertag: You know, Dordell has given me about a dozen gofers.
Lessala: And?
Vertag: What if we have them canvas the dumpsters? Put signs down, with a tiny bit of pencil lead, bring them back if there’s a response.
Lessala: But would Janet or Styles trust them?
Vertag: Doesn’t matter. I don’t trust them. But if there’s a response, we go back to that site with the Major and a reaction company to search for their missing women.
Lessala: I like it.
Vertag: In fact, have Perez get the messages made up. Small print, sealed against prying. If the message isn’t there, we go looking.
Lessala: So all we have to do is wait for them to get hungry. I like it.
(Fade out. Fade in to show a refrigerated bin in a supermarket after dark. Styles and Janet climb a rack of boxed foods beside the bin until they’re above the fridge.)
Styles: I don’t know why we don’t just steal food out of the dumpsters.
Janet: Yuck!
Styles: Yeah, well, after Marine Training I’m not afraid of a little spoilage.
Janet: You afraid of the rats, then? (Styles shudders a bit. They reach the higher shelf and start removing coils of string from their shoulders, tying them off to the struts of the shelving) How about the cats after the rats? Or the dogs after the cats and rats?
Styles: Okay, okay. Now you’re starting to sound like Dr. Seuss. The cats and the rats were getting their fats from the discards and flats of the giants whose vats were big and they sat…
Janet: And don’t forget the homeless doing their own scavenging.
Styles: I said okay! (They start to lower themselves on the ropes, headed for cold cuts stacked in the bin) I just wish we could manage some mustard.
Janet: If you’d like, you can leave your part out until it spoils. Then, a well-trained Marine like you should find it piquant.
Styles: (landing on the top of a box with the picture of a chicken on it) Shut up, Janet. (Janet smiles and they both bend to open the end of the box).
(Camera view rises over their heads as they scavenge. Up on top of a dark light fixture, a human figure leans over the edge of the fixture and watches them in the light from the bin.)
(fade)
(In the Exchange, an SID minion carries a cage with a few humans in it and follows Vertag into the Tank room. He holds it as Vertag starts to transfer them.)
Vertag: (lifts first one to the top of the Tank where a camera is set up. He holds the human in place, snaps the camera, releases the photographed human and grabs the next one.) Okay, welcome to the last stop before you’re returned to human society. Once your pic’s taken, go down the stairs. There’s food in the red boxes, showers on this end of each level, clean clothes in the closets… And if you need anything else, I’ll be by every so often to check on you.
(After all the humans have their pictures taken, he leans close to the side)
Vertag: And let me remind everyone there’s only one real rule here. Nobody gets hurt. If you don’t hurt each other, I have no reason to punish anyone. If you behave, I promise not to touch any of you, ever again. (Several humans shudder and scurry towards the stairs) Let’s go. (He and minion leave)
Minion1: Agent Vertag? Since you’re the senior exchange agent, why don’t you just transfer everyone over to the Marines?
Vertag: New rules. I have to submit photographs of our Earthlings to all the concerned security offices. And I can’t let them leave the planet until everyone’s seen the pictures and compared them to their files. (They pass the security door and enter the front office) They say they want to keep track, see if any known troublemakers have passed through. I guess they want to be able to relax about certain saboteurs. (walks to his desk and sits)
Minion1: (stops at the doorway) Oh. That makes sense. (leaves)
Vertag: (quietly to the empty doorway) Really? If it was just about relaxation, then it wouldn’t matter when the saboteurs left the planet.
SOG: Agent?
Vertag: Nothing. Just coming over all suspicious and stuff. Can you contact the Colonel? We need to discuss the scheduling of future repatriations. It’s going to get complicated.
(Lessala enters, reading from a notepad)
Lessala: Vertag, do you know someone named Chocould?
Vertag: It’s a fairly common name. Any hints?
Lessala: A nurse at a long term care unit says that she needs to see you about him. He’s a patient.
Vertag: Ah. The guy that thought Sonya was Ambertemblin.
Lessala: Someone at Long Term still believes in Thrombeldinbar? And his wife?
Vertag: No. That guy was old, and beat to hell, but he was sharp as a whip. (thinks for a second) He may be harboring more humans. (turns to SOG) Skip that meeting. I need a squad of Marines. And maybe a team of medics.
SOG: They’re on the way, sir.
(Vertag fishes around behind his desk for the bowling bag)
(Shift to the LTCU nurses’ station. Vertag enters)
Vertag: I’m looking for Chocould’s doctor?
Nurse1 (same one from episode 11): SID Agent! Welcome back. And your bowling ball! (behind her at the nurses’ station are three people, two men and a woman. They look sad but expectant. One man and the woman should resemble Chodould. The other will be substantially larger, looming over the others)
Vertag (hefts bowling bag to the counter): I’m told there is an emergency?
Nurse1: Well, Mr. Chocould is dying.
Vertag: Aren’t we all.
Nurse1: It’s just that…(she glances over his shoulder, speaks softer) His children are here.
Vertag: He has only two children.
Nurse1: The daughter brought her husband.
Vertag: Touching. Emergency?
Nurse1: He’s still marked for monitoring. They can’t even hold his hand before he dies without it affecting their careers.
Vertag: He should have thought of that before he drew security’s attention.
Nurse1: Agent! I’m… Well, the doctor visited him on 2nd Day. Said he probably wouldn’t live to 5th day.
Vertag: Today is 5th.
Nurse1: Yes. We may have…prematurely marked him as deceased.
Vertag: Oh. The paperwork is going to be a bear.
Nurse1: If we do it.
Vertag: You can’t not do it.
Nurse1: (Nods towards the kids) Look, as long as the paperwork balances out in the end…
Vertag: You’re asking me to conspire to violate Security (sound of feedback. He grabs his ear) Ow!
Nurse1: Agent?
Vertag: Just a minute. (turns to bowling bag) I do NOT owe him anything. You might. I don’t.
Nurse1: Agent, we reported him dead yesterday. Technically, he’s released from monitor status.
Vertag: Technically he’s not dead. (smiles) Although, the look on their faces down at the office, when they get reports of a dead man’s security risk being nonzero… Look, I don’t know what you want from me.
Nurse1: I just need someone from your agency to countersign the monitor removal.
Vertag: I’m not going to (winces, to bag:) I KNOW he’s a harmless old man! I know he’s no threat. I also know that rules exist for
Nurse1: (turns and steps closer to the guy’s kids as Vert argues in the background) He’s just arguing with his bowling ball. Nothing to worry about. (they stare) He does this all the time.
Vertag: Okay, Nurse, give me his record if you please? (he makes some marks) You three? (Kids and son-in-law step closer, glancing between the agent and his bowling bag) I have to apologize to you. There’s been a paperwork problem. Operator error, as it were. (shuffles the paper and shuts the folder) I’m going to have to correct all of this. I’ll start the paperwork tomorrow (winces). The day after (winces). Next week (glares at the bag). If that’s all right with you?
Daughter: Agent?
Vertag: The nurses have a lot to do, so they won’t be monitoring your father’s visitors. (Slides a sheet of paper over to them) I need to ask you to help in the interim. (taps the sheet) I hate to ask this, but this is the auxiliary monitor report. Until I get this fixed, you need to record everyone that visits him. Then mail the report to the local security office.
Son: You expect us to-
Daughter: Hang on.
Vertag: It’s real simple. If YOU DON’T send this in, Security won’t know who has visited your father. If YOU DON’T send this in, there will be a hole in his, and your, security records.
Daughter: Yes, Agent. We will.
Son in law: Do we pay the postage or will the post office send it without any?
Vertag (stares up at the SIL for a second, then turns to the daughter): Didn’t marry him for his smarts, did you?
Daughter (stands on tiptoe to kiss Vertag lightly on the cheek): Thank you. (takes report) Come on.
Vertag: Um… In case he doesn’t get the chance? I do know that Chocould was very proud of the two of you.
(They nod, then rush down the hall. Vertag watches them go.)
Nurse1: Thank you, Agent.
Vertag: Thank the bowling ball. She’s the one that agrees with you.
Nurse1: (to bag) Thank you, too. I, uh, haven’t noticed any other bowling balls in his room. Not since you got Ambertemblin.
Vertag: Um…thanks. (takes bag and the patient’s records) Come on, conscience. Let’s go home and delay some paperwork.
(shot of his back as he walks through the front door)
Vertag: I don’t suppose I can get you to keep this quiet?
(Back in the Exchange, Lessala and Vertag are in his office as Marines file out of the bowling bag and group around the elevator)
Lessala: What if they do file the report?
Vertag: If they’re that dumb, they deserve to have their careers hindered.
Perez: (Spinning around to stare up at Vertag) Hey!
Vertag: Relax, Major. The address at the top of the form is this office. If Lessala gets it, she can spike it. (Lessala smiles and steps around to stand beside Vertag. She busses him a kiss on the lips then departs. Vertag watches her go. Turns down to see Perez with a small smile on her face) You’re not going to kiss me, are you?
Perez: What? God, no.
Vertag: Well, everyone else seems to think security violations are reasons for kissing (turns back to the door where Lessala exited). Weird.
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Roll credit
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