VS - Act 2: The Grind – “Every Strike, Every Cut”

Episode two. Beware those who see you as a number,
as a tool to be used, as an asset that
can be expended without a second thought. Randal Parker, ex
contern programmer, thought he was done with his criminal past,
but in the shadows of Silicon Valley, past never stays buried.
When his friend Dana stumbles upon the job opportunity of
a lifetime at Versus Incorporated, Randall's world begins to unravel.
Joseph Cameronelli, their enigmatic boss, lurks in the background, his
motives shrouded in darkness.
This client is not someone you want to screw with, Randall.
I need you to get the software issue fixed and
not fuck around.
You got me, Dana's opportunity becomes a nightmare.
I'm getting the hell out of here.
You can leave in four hours if you got what
it takes.
As Dana vanishes into the bowels of a mysterious warehouse,
Randal finds himself trapped in a web of high stakes
finantel intrigue, where fifty eight million dollars in shady transactions
hide a sinister truth.
It's in the second basement.
This place has more than one basement, has three.
Actually what's in the bottom line?
None of your fucking business. Now let's go.
In a twist of fate, Randall's greed becomes his downfall.
One flash drive, one fatal mistake. Now Randall is no
longer a man with a name with an identity. His
captors dub him the Programmer, one of sixteen pawns in
a game where the ultimate reward is life itself. I'd
love to kill him, but then again, who wouldn't do.
The lights, roll the cameras and let the betting begin.
It's time for the versus tournament, where every match is
sudden death. Interior warehouse floor Randal's POV camera blurry. Randall
awakens slowly as camera comes happy to focus. He sees
he is on a concrete floor in a chain link cage.
A blurry woman is in the next cage, her fingers
clutched in the chain link fence, her face right up
against the wire. Camera comes into focus on data.
Randal, which you okay.
She and Randall were the same clothes from earlier in
the day, but both now have a thick leather collar.
Randal doesn't seem to notice his yet, I think, so.
What the hell is going on?
I don't know.
I was in an interview.
Then that big guy started asking me if I could fight,
and they slot me around.
I think he tased me.
Bro Yeah, I think I got taste too.
The same with all of us. Then all of us
take a look around.
A series of angles. They are in an abandoned warehouse.
There's no sunlight, just glaring overhead lights. A twenty by
twenty white canvas platform sits in the middle of the floor.
There are fifteen other cages surrounding the canvas. The cages
are filled with people looking out Old Lady, gangster, bodybuilder,
old man, cheerleader, the bum, single mom, hooker, Salesky, Samantha,
boss lady, the Nazi, and husband. All of the characters
are looking at Randall is the last to wake up.
Actors in the cage on Randall's right, Dana on his left.
Randall Randa, Honey, get me out of here.
Samantha, I came for that interview, like Easton, Why did
you do this to me?
He which doesn't to help you.
This isn't his.
Fall, Sam, I'll get you out of here.
Randa looks up to the rafters. There are four white
canvases hanging down all are splotched and streaked with brown
paint like a modern Arctics A bit. The bottom right
corner of each canvas is marked with artistic logo like
Roman numerals. One, two, three, and four. Each has a
weapon on it. One has a black baseball bat, two
has a shovel, three a hatchet, and four a break.
I didn't have no job, interview.
I just woke up here.
The old man is in the cage next to the bum.
When is the last time you bathed?
Jesus deals me.
I ain't got a bathe.
I got pissed.
Bum walks to the back of his cage and starts
peeing through the chain link fence.
Could this possibly get any worse?
What the hell is going on here?
Nobody knows. The interviewer either slapped us around or just
taste us.
Motherfucker dropped a pin at my feet. I went to
pick it up. Then he hit me with that thing.
One another shot at his bitch ass.
We all woke up in these cages.
Mister.
They grabbed me on the street on my way home
from practice.
Please get us out of here.
Come on, girl, calm down, you need to keep it together.
She's not handling this too.
Well, Please mister, get us out of here.
Randall looks around. Sixteen cages, all have the electronic locks.
These people expect him to save the day.
How you look like a nerd?
Think of something out You geeks are smart?
Help us.
Randall realizes something is on his neck. He reaches for it.
Don't touch Randall grabs it and gets a small shock.
What the fuck, Randall, be careful.
It's electrical, like a souped up dog tran and collar
or something.
Why am I wearing a collar?
We all have one.
It goes off if you grab it, so don't.
Randall, frightened and enraged, grabs it again and receives a
medium shot.
Oh they stay calm, young man, panicky won't help any
of us.
Someone, please get me out of here.
Jesus, will you shut up your little bitch.
Stop whining.
She's just a scared girl. She's driving me crazy. The
shakes are what's driving you crazy. You can get a
fix when we get out of here, filthy whore. Until then,
just be quiet. What did you say, you stupid bitch?
You heard me?
Everyone just stop it. We need to stay calm and
figure out what's going on.
So I was gonna say this whole thing thirty seventh
to thirty eight.
It should be building and the dialogue should be coming faster.
We kind of really kind of get into it.
Everyone's getting excited and people are getting.
Shocked, and shit's going down, and I think people get
a little excited and the heartbreak goes up and they
start what do I think dialogue starts coming faster on
top of each other.
And I'd love to hear that throughout this.
So anyway, why don't we start with Randall's line? Why
am I wearing a collar? And Sean gave you line
after line, all on.
Your own car.
Yeah, yeah, do your best there.
You know, we can separate it a little bit, but
just become more impassioned with each one.
So why am I wearing you?
Don't want to get a show off?
Hilarious, I hear, I hear you.
Why am I wearing your tallar?
We all have one.
It goes off if you grab it, So don't Randall,
frightened and enraged, grabs it again and receives a medium shot.
Stay calm, young man. Panicking won't help any of us.
Please get me out of here, Jesus, will you shut up,
your little bitch.
Stop whining.
She's just a scared girl.
She's driving me crazy.
The shakes or what's driving you crazy.
You can get a fix when we get out of here,
you filthy.
Horn till then just be quiet. Did you say it's
stupid bitch?
You heard me?
Everyone just stop it. We need to stay calm and
figure out what's going on.
I'm just a tourist. I came here to see. Hey, Ashbury, this.
It city of love.
Now I'm locked in a cage. You want a collar
like an animal? Is that just what's going on?
Thanks for filling this in.
Fritz, my name is not Fritz.
Just take it easy, man, We're going to get out
of here.
Hey, Tupac, we have to sacrifice a Nazi. That's fine
with me.
I am a Nazi, Hi am a Jaman citizen.
I did not say my consentate.
There is no response.
I wish I'd never come to this country and makes
two of us.
Come on, everyone, just stay calm. We're in this together, right.
There is a brief pause as everyone stops to listen
to actor.
Okay, now, let's take care of the obvious. Has everyone
tried their collars and got a shock.
Everyone nods.
Has everyone tried their door? Maybe the locks don't work
on some of the cages.
Everyone nods except Randal. He moves to the door of
his cage. Insert electronic lock on the front of the door.
Is an electronic lock, the small light glowing red. Randall
shakes the door tentatively at first, then violently, but it
does not open. He grabs us the lock and receives
another small shock.
Dang it, Ah, sorry, I should told you that all
the doors do that.
Okay, so we all have the callers. We're all stuck
in the cages. Anyone recognized this place?
Ask the whore.
I'm sure she knows abandoned buildings. Very well, shut up
your teeth, bag and cut you. Shut up, you oltfare
takken piece of garbage. How about you, tube pac? How
do we get out of here?
Hot in the hill?
What I know?
Oh?
Come on, like you've never been in a cage before?
Why because I'm black?
No, because you look like a drug dealer. You've been
in jail before, haven't you.
Gangster is trying to be a calming force, but he's
frustrated that he's stereotyped and that he has been in jail.
Lady, I am trying to help.
Try harder, Doug.
We don't need racism.
Gangster rattles his cage.
Damn it, just stop it. Just leave everyone alone.
Okay, when we get out of here, you can track
us down and be as insulting as you like.
Listen, all of you.
I know everyone needs to get out of here, but
I have kids at home.
I really need to find a way out.
Oh give me a break. Don't play the parent card here, lady.
I've got to get to my kids too, So you
guys should get to escape before anyone else. Is that it.
I'm a father too, and it doesn't matter. No one
gets special treatment. We're all equal. We all work.
Together, right The sixteen exchange looks then nod even boss nating.
Samantha isn't nodding. She's looking up to the rafters.
Hey, is that a camera up there?
She points to the rafters. Insert expensive camera. The camera
is mounted to a girder. Back to scene.
Yeah, and okay, there's another up there on the other side.
I'll look up at the cameras. Insert a second camera.
The camera moves, training the lenses on the various cages.
Back to scene.
What someone is watching us.
Heroic music blares from unseen speakers. None of the sixteen
have any idea what's going on. Off to one side
of the canvas platform, a big flat board drops, revealing
mister Jones and mister Smith sitting at an announcer's table.
Both wear headphones, blue eye masks, and matching blue blazers.
A green screen is hung behind them. Each has a
mounted microphone. To the side of them is a large
screen showing the bracket position so that the contestants can
see it. The announcers talk to each other or to
a camera mounted on their table. This camera shows broadcast
angle announcers broadcast angle girder. From above, this angle looks
like an establishing shot from an ESPN broadcast with swirling
and flashing graphics.
Ladies, angentlemen, welcome to Versus.
Number five announcer camera POV. This angle looks like SportsCenter
polished announcers with a screen behind them showing high quality
motion graphics.
I'm mister Jones and with me once again as my
announcing partner, mister Smith. Mister Smith, so good to see
you again.
Good to be back at Club Carnage.
Mister Jones with our sixteen stereotypes ready to leave it.
All on the table.
Angle On Randall and Dana.
What the heck is all this?
I don't know?
Is this a TV show?
Angle On announcers.
Fifteen future losers in US soon to be champ, mister Smith.
We'll look them up, one sign down, the other one
they head out to get it on.
This is the Versus tournament where the real world gets
real deadly, where survivor isn't just a word. We're almost
ready for the promoter to get this party started.
Broadcast Angle announcers.
Winner go Home is for pussies, mister Jones. Here you
win or die. First round bets are in, mister Smith.
If you are watching this, it means we received your
one million smackaroos. You may now bet on the fighters
and blocks of one hundred grand. Bet it all on
one fighter or spread it around like Buda.
All bets must be placed before the start of round one.
If you don't bet all of it, we cut the signal.
After eight of these bitches go down to Chinatown. We'll
post new odds for a second round. You can bet
another million then if you like, and also for the
semis and for the finals.
Now let's look at that bracket.
Insert tournament bracket. A sixteen slot tournament bracket pops up
eight line on a side. The Versus logo is in
the upper right hand corner. Logo appears in all bracket
shots and pairing shots. When each pairing is announced, it
shows a blow up of that bracket, along with the
face pictures that were taken in the interviews. Each person's
face has information next to her their stereotype, name, their
seed number, and their odds.
We opened in the East bracket with old man against cheerleader.
Winner of that faces the victor of Dyke versus bumb bottom.
Half of the East.
Give us old lady battling it out against husband. Maybe
she can come them to death. Ha ha.
The gangster and bodybuilder both looked like potential first seeds,
so in true versus tournament style, we let them open
up against each other.
No easy path.
Of the finals, mister Smith, But the winner of that
one is the odds on favorite to take it all.
This intercut with reaction shots of the sixteen some disbelieving,
some horrified by what they are hearing.
Right you are, mister Jones.
And in the West bracket we've got top seat actor
up against Hooker.
The victor of that big titty tilt tackles the.
Winner of marketing hack versus programmer, and finally in the
bottom half of.
The West, a classic stereotype duel between sales guy and
sigle Mom, as well as one we're really looking.
Forward to Boss Lady and the Nazi.
Normal Angelo own announcers.
Well, mister Jones, is time to meet our host, the
Prince of Pageantry.
The promoter house.
Lights dim and spotlights come on, pointing to a doorway
that leads to a back room. At the side of
that door, Enforcer sits in an ornate chair. Through the
door comes the promoter. In addition to his white suit
and mask, he now has a white top hat and
a white pimp cap. Promoter is followed by Executioner, dressed
in his all black suit and mask. He carries a
luger with a silencer, and Forcer stands and falls in
alongside executioner. Promoter walks onto the white canvas spotlight it's
tracking him all the way. Broadcast angle Girder. Promoter stands
in the middle of the canvas platform, surveying the sixteen.
He always does this. Mister smith.
He likes to take one last look before he tells
them the rules.
What the hell is going on here?
Promoter produces a white microphone.
Welcome two forces.
He raises his hand and drops it with a flourish.
The music cuts out, filling the warehouse with chilling, fading echo.
You in charge of all this. Listen man, these people
ain't done nothing to you.
Promoter gestures to the enforcer. Insert keyboard. Enforcer's gray gloved
hand hits a button, mark Gangster. The hand reaches for
a slider as gangster keeps talking.
You let us out, ohambo.
Enforcer moves slider halfway to the right, and the one
gangs to jumping and shock twitching, his hands flying to
his neck. Promoter gestures again in the shock cease.
We are here to compete in a tournaments, any tournaments.
Like no eitherre no professional fighters, no trade warriors, just
normal people fighting for survival.
Today, each of you will find out how badly you
want to live.
When your cage door opens, you have fifteen seconds to
get on this platform or.
This will happen to you.
The enforcer hits the button. The fighter's convulse in agony.
The shock lasts for five seconds, then stops.
You have two choices, kill or die. A fight adds
only when you or your opponent is dead. Versus is
about action. If there is no action, we started overtime clock.
Promoter gestures to a large digital clock on the wall.
Insert digital clock. It is the same size as a
basketball shot clock. The numbers thirty seconds flash up in red.
Back the scene.
When those thirty seconds pass, I will decide who wins
and who dies.
Please stop it. I can't take this.
A quick gesture from promoter. Enforcer hits the button. The
girl screams, falls to the floor, and rides you.
Stop it, God, damn it.
Another gesture from the promoter, and husband suffers shocks.
No.
Promoter gestures again, shocks Stop. The warehouse is totally silent
save for the cheerleaders. Stop.
Win three fights, kill three times, and I only are
you free you win one million dollars.
Have no doubt this is real for those about to die.
Resolute you first up the old man versus cheerleader.
Promoter and executioner go back through their door. The enforcer
walks to the announcer's table. He reaches into a weapons
bin and pulls out two bowie knives. He walks to
the center of the platform and sets the knives on
either end. He then walks back to his ornate chair
and sits. Angle on teenage girl's cage lock. The light
turns from red to green, the cage swings over him.
Angle on old man's cage lock. His luck does the
same broadcast angle girder. Insert pictures of the old man
and the cheerleader. Hers is a senior picture. His is
a smiling photo from the same kind of interview. Dana
went through. Below the pictures a list of their physical stats.
A lah ufc tail of the.
Tape cheerleader is five ft six, one hundred and fifteen pounds.
She's athletic, but can't seem to handle the situation, so
they seated her at number seven.
The pre fight interview revealed that old man served in Vietnam.
He may be old and out of shape, but unlike
the other fighters, he has combat experience that nabbed him
the number two seed, and as.
We've seen in previous tournaments, that kind of experience is
a huge factor.
Angle on warehouse floor. The old man and the cheerleader
won't leave their cages. Insert enforcer's gray gloved hand on
the slider. Enforcer hits two buttons, then holds a slider.
When the slider is all the way to the left,
the shock is mild. When it moves to the right,
it is nearly lethal.
Get it on the hand, No, no way, this is insanity.
Insert enforcer's grey gloved hand on the slider. The enforcer
slowly moving the slider to the left. This intercut with
After a few seconds, the cheerleader screams and runs out
onto the platform. A few seconds more and the old
man runs out, hands clutching at his collar.
Oh.
The enforcer slides the switch all the way to the left,
turning off the shock. All promoter veo dialogue is over
a PA system.
Pick up the knives. I can't, I can't.
Mister, please don't stab me.
Take it easy. I won't hurt you. You will do
more than hurts her. Old man your heart or die,
then I will die.
Cut to interior back room. Promoter is seated at the
table in front of the microphone. Engineer is at his
computer station. Executioner is standing. They are all still wearing
their masks. Promoter signals to engineer to cut the room
mics so spectators at home can't hear the conversation.
Ah, they're not going to fight.
Ah.
Just like in versus number two, it appears my services
may be needed sooner than I expected.
Welcome to the big time, pal. The overtime clock is
your queue?
Interesting?
I wonder what would happen if things didn't go as
planned this early in the game.
We've got fifty eight people who each bet a million
bucks on this round. This thing is timed so we
can start and finish before the cops even know what's happening.
If we get shut down before the finals, you want
to be the one to tell our bosses they have
to give back fifty eight million.
I'm sure they would be less than pleased at the
tournament did not give us a championship.
Bout good, then take care of this.
Executioner stands, He lifts his foot and slides his handkerchief
off the chair and onto the floor. He smooths down
his outfit, making sure everything is in its place. Angle
on warehouse floor. There is a tense moment of silence
as neither the old man nor the cheerleader make a move. Then,
without warning, a basketball air horn sounds and the overtime
clock starts to tick down from thirty seconds.
When the clock hits zero, one of you will die.
Broadcast angle Girder. The two top mounted cameras cut back
and forth between the fighters. The overtime clock is superimposed
in the upper right hand corner. It reads twenty six
seconds and counting.
Well, it looks like this one starts the same way
as versus one, two.
And four started, correct, mister Jones.
Our audience has to remember that while perhaps they have
seen previous tournaments, the fighters have not. The old man
and the cheerleader just don't believe that they have to
fight to the death.
Gothic music plays. Executioner walks out of the door, strides
slowly across the canvas platform.
Oh snap, here come to judge.
If the overtime.
You can't bottle his talent.
If the overtime clock runs out, the executioner will do
his thing.
The overtime clock reads twelve seconds in counting. Cheerleader is
still crying. Executioner moves with confident ease. He steps onto
the platform. He draws the silence luger and holds it
at his side. He stands there, unmoving. Hangle on old
man looking at the knife he's killed before. It would
be so easy to slit the girl's throat. He shakes
his head, chasing away be thought.
I won't be a part of this madness.
Old man sits down on the canvas and crosses his arms.
Cheerleader picks up the knife, points it at old man,
then screams in near insanity and drops it. The overtime
clock ticks down to zero and the basketball horn sounds again.
Angle one announcers time is up.
They just wouldn't listen, mister smith.
Executioner looks ready to go. Let's see what the judge decides.
Angle on warehouse floor.
The old man could have easily defeated the cheerleader. You
have the advantage and did not use it. Therefore, cheerleader wins.
Executioner raises the luger and shoots the old man twice
in the chest. Blood spatters onto the white canvas. The
old man falls to his side, gasping. Executioner walks over
to the old man, points the gun at his head
and pulls the trigger. Executioner lifts the gun, blows away,
the smoke filtering out of the barrel. He puts the
weapon away, then turns and walks off the can. This
intercut with a series of angles. The fourteen other fighters
react differently. Some stare blindly, others are enraged. Others hide
their head in their hands.
Jesus, your fucking bastards. Thatt's the red of the Lord.
The enforcer walks onto the mat and drags away the
old man's body, leaving a speak of red and chunks
of wet brain. You've all sinned, and that's what happens
to sinners.
Cheerleader, get back in your cage.
The cheerleader sprints to her cage. The door swing shut
and the locklight turns from green to red. The enforcer
collects the bowie knives and puts them in the bin.
He grabs two shovels, walks and places them on the mat.
Now you all see what the steaks are like. The
next fight begins.
Angle on Dana's cage, lock turns from red to green,
door swings open. Angle on bums cage, lock turns from
red to green, door swings open broadcast angle the upper
east bracket teenage girl's name moves to the next round.
Underneath the old man in cheerleader bracket is Dana and
bum insert the tail of the tape. Dana's photo is
from her interview with the enforcer. The bums is of
him passed out on some city.
Street, a five versus three matchup, probably the day's first
real fight.
Bum is six foot two pounds.
He's got a size and reach advantage, but he's in
bad shape.
I'll tell you right now. The dyke is my sleeper pick.
She's a girl, sure, but look at the masique on
this one.
When it comes to lesbo Lovin, we know which one.
Wears the strap on.
I think she'll beat the bum, then kill the cheerleader
to reach the final four.
That's a bold but logical assessment, mister Jones.
We'll see soon enough.
Angle on warehouse floor, Dana has not left her cage.
Bum is already on the mat, clumsily swinging his shovel.
Angle on Dana.
I can't do this.
Get out there, or he'll shock you.
Bum is standing on the canvas holding his shovel, smiling, Come.
Out cage, sinner.
If I go out there, I'll die.
I can't do it.
Dana lurches as her collar starts to shock her.
No, no, no, no.
Please please the shock increases. Oh, she screams, runs onto
the mat and grabs the shovels just to make the shock.
Stop you like a snatch wacre.
Basketball horn sounds. Bum walks around arrogantly. He is stumbling
a bit, but very confident, like a drunken man ready
to pick a fight. Dana clutches her shovel and keeps
the point toward Bum. She is wide eyed and terrified.
Oh you are a snatchacer, ain't you? Dirty? Gay sinner?
Shut up?
Le vinig Is twenty thirteen.
If there's a woman who vies with a female, as
those who ie with a man, both of them have
made it a detestable act. They shall surely be put
to death. Their blood guiltness is a pawn. Damn Bum
advances with righteous fury. He swings his shovel. Dana parries
the blow and instinctive reacty stop it, sinner. Bum swings again,
hits Data on the shoulder. She cries out in pain.
Reacting on adrenaline an instinct, she swings the shovel and
hits Bum on the knee. He drops to one knee.
Dana immediately hits him in the face with the flat
of the shovel. Bumb falls to his back, bleeding from
the nose and mouth. He is groggy and can't get.
Up there there I won okay, didn't know, let me go. No, no,
no way.
The basketball horn blares. Overtime clock starts ticking.
No, no, I won't kill him. I can't has the advantage.
Bumb starts to panicking. Dana wacks him in the back
of the head. Bum falls flat again. Clock ticks past
twenty Broadcast Angered Girder a close up of Dana. She's
having a nervous breakdown. She has to kill to live.
Oh, this is drama, this is tension. Do you think
he'll do it?
But she's gotta do it unless she wants to eat
a bullet, and bullets aren't all that tasty, mister Jones.
Insert overtime clock ticks past twelve seconds. Back to scene.
Gothic music plays. Executioner comes out of the door and
starts walking towards the platform.
No, no, no, don't do it, don't do it.
Angle On, Gangstane, you would do it.
It's your him.
Angle on boss, Lady killed it already. Insert overtime clock
ticks past six seconds. Back to scene. Executioner slowly raises
his gun over the shoulder. Shot of executioner in foreground,
Dana standing over bum in medium ground, and overtime clock
tick down in background. As the clock ticks down to
three seconds then two, Dana screams and raises the shovel.
Broad guess dangled girder waste up shot of Dana as
she drives the shovel point into the bum's throat. Blood
splashes up onto her. Although we don't see the shovel
go in, the amount of blood leaves no question that
the bum is dead.
Man.
We have a winner.
You call it. The dyke winds, the.
Bracket appears, The Dike's name flashes on the winner's line,
showing she will next face cheerleader angle on warehouse floor.
Dana throws down the shovel and sprints to her cage.
The door swings shut behind her. Oh my god, she
has blood all over her hands, face, and chest. She
tries to wipe it off her face, but just smears
it around.
You had no choice. They would have killed you.
Insert Randall's cage lock. The light turns from red to
green at his door swings open. Randall hear's this but
ignores it.
Dana, you had to oh, my god, Oh why, why, why?
We will get out of this. We will.
He is interrupted by a voice from the canvas.
Don't come out here, Randall, don't make me do it.
Samantha's voice makes him forget all about Dana. This can't
be happening to him, not Samantha.
Announcer Angele And for the first time ever, we have
a love interest, mister Jones.
That's right, mister Smith.
The marketing hack and the programmer were an item.
A series of inserts Facebook profile pages pictures clearly show
it's Randal and Samantha, but names have been fuzzed out.
Facebook photos of Randall and Samantha together, then Samantha partying
with and kissing other men.
Randall's status says in a relationship with Marketing.
Hack, but hers single.
Ooh that burn and it'll take more than a shot
of penicila to make that burn go away, mister Smith.
How about a pair of headshears, mister Jones, would that
stop the burning sensation?
I think it would. Let's find out.
Moving shot Randal's POV. He slowly walks out of the cage.
Samantha is already waiting for him. She's holding a pair
of head shears with two foot long blades. The shears
trembled in her hands, but she is pointing them towards Randall.
She is determined to live broadcast angle.
Girder, mister Jones, your thoughts on marketing.
Hack insert the tail of the tape. Samantha's picture is
the same as Dana's, clearly from an interview with Enforcer
Randall's is his Facebook profile?
Pick my thoughts five six a buck ten and would
you look at that ass?
What a spinner?
Well, how about athletic skills?
Oh?
In her interview, she said she works out five times
a week and takes kickboxing classes at her gym.
I'd say watch out for marketing hat.
Oh.
Else, she's gonna have to whip up a big batch
of whoop ass if she's gonna get past programmer. He's
a computer nerd, so will he fight smart? He's five
foot eight short for a guy, but looks like he
has a slate reach advantage.
And with those heads tremor blades, a reach advantage is critical.
Let's go to the action angle on warehouse floor, Randall
is freaking out. He picks up the shears with trembling hands.
Randall do something.
Basketball horn sounds.
I don't know what to do.
You got me into this. Do something. I have to
kill you. I love you.
Broadcast angle Gerner, What a story, What a story, mister Smith.
We're looking at serious heartbreak here.
Angle on warehouse floor crying. Samantha steps forward.
Sam don't we can't do this.
They'll kill us anyway.
If you really love me, just put down the trimmers.
You know you won't make it.
You're too weak, and I can make it.
Just put down the trimmers.
I angle on Randal crying. He holds the trimmers in
his left hand, wiping away tears with his right. As
he does, he hears footsteps coming toward him. He looks
up to see Samantha rushing, a wide eyed, mascara streak
snarl on her face. Randal backs away so fast he
runs right off the platform and onto the warehouse floor.
He only takes three steps before he is shocked, his
hands wide to his neck and the shears dropped. Samantha
tries to press the advantage, but as soon as she
steps off the platform, she too is shocked. Both fighters
scramble back up onto the platform. Randal grabs his shears
on the way back. They square off.
I don't want to do this.
You have no choice, Programmer. My name is Randall.
I wish human being, not some character you sick pastard.
As Randall yells, Samantha sees an opportunity and rushes in,
shoving the shears at Randall's face. Randall flinch's back, Samantha's
blades barely missing his eyes as he flinches his own.
Shears drop to waste level. Samantha's momentum carries her in
too fast. Randal's shears punched into her stomach, then up
into her body through her heart. She stops when she
is face to face with Randall, their lips almost touching
in a kiss. Oh my god, she starts to fall
for Randall catches her broadcast angle girder. Randal is holding Samantha.
Were it not for the tournament, they might be lovers
in a tender embrace.
Hello, welcome to the land of kill shot population one.
Where did that come from? Wow, We'd better keep an
eye on this programmer.
He's as cool as the.
Other side of the pillow angelong canvas. Randall holds Samantha
in his arms. Blood is spreading across her shirt.
I'm so sorry, I didn't.
Samantha tries to speak but coughs, flattering blood on Randall's face.
Samantha sezes then dies in Randall's arms. Randall gently sets
her down on the canvas. The enforcer, still carrying his controller,
steps onto the platform, ready to drag away Samantha's body.
Randall stands and looks at his hands covered in blood.
Rage washes across his face. We haven't seen him like
this yet. Fear is gone, only hate remains. Randall grabs
the shears and rush is that enforcer. Enforcer pushes a button,
giving Randall a large shot. Randall collapses convulsive insert in
Forcer's hands, moving the slider higher and higher.
Stop it, you're killing him.
Enforcer moves the slider back. He drags Randall to his
cage and throws him inside. Close shot of Randall coughing,
still twitching, feeling the effects of the deep shot. Broadcast
angle insert tail of the table. Actor's photo is his
head and shoulder. Shot hookers is from an eurossf dot
com at WOOO.
Quite a looker here, five ten and check out those dams.
Those legs might do her some good if there was
anywhere to run. But she's up against a number one seed.
Picture changes to actor.
Actor is six foot two, ninety pounds. He's in great shape.
Who's at theater combat tray so he knows how to
handle the tensiles.
Angle on canvas. Medium shot of Actor looking down at
something in his hands. He raises his hand slowly. We
see he's holding a pickaxe. The hooker is also holding
a pick axe, but it's obviously heavy in her hands.
She's shaking badly and withdrawal. Basketball horn sounds.
I'm sorry, I have to just another man that can't
help himself.
Right.
I'm not gonna just let you hurt me. I'm not
going to be your victim. Right on, sister, cut that asshole.
The hooker attacks. Her attacks are clumsy, after parries them easily.
He is clearly familiar with hand to hand weapons. The
fight continues for a few seconds, then after buries the
pick axe in the hooker's leg, she screams and falls
as clutch the leg, blood squirting through her fingers. Actor
pulls the pickaxe free and mentally readies himself for the
final blow. He lifts the axe.
Oh please God, no, don't kill me.
Actor is tortured. He lowers the axe, then raises it again.
Please, I don't want to die.
You can't make me do this.
The basketball horn sounds. Wide shot of actor and hooker
with overtime clock framed between them. The clock starts ticking
down from thirty seconds. Actor looks at it once, then
raises the pick axe. The hooker's words are cut off
as actors pickaxe punches through her head.
I don't know if you've ever been hit with a
pick axe.
When I was hit with.
A pickaxe really big.
I survived it. But yeah, if you could just give
me a really kind of a really blood curdling that's
somebody who's been hit with.
A pick.
Broadcast angle picture shows actor's name appearing in the winner's
slot right above programmer. They fight next round, and.
That one is out of here. Actor, really let it
rip on that swing.
Broadcast Angle announcers.
I know that Hooker has taken a lot of shots
to the face in her career, but that's the last
one unless they're tricks.
God, I'm so sorry. I normally don't do that. What
that line was written so well.
So great.
I know that Hooker has taken a lot of shots
to the face in her career. But that's the last
one unless our tricks are a necrophiliac.
Oh, that's gold, mister Smith.
Angle on. Randall and Dana huddle together, fingers entwined through
the chain link fence that separates them. Randall is shaking,
his eyes are wide and shock. Both are bloody, stunned.
Dana has recovered somewhat. Her friend needs her to be strong.
We had to do it, We all have to.
I killed her.
You had no choice, Randall.
She would have killed It doesn't matter. I killed her.
What are we gonna do?
Do we fight?
We die?
Broadcast dangle insert tail of the tape. Photos of sales
guy and single mom are both from interviews with Enforcer.
It's Revenge of the Used Car salesman six foot even,
two hundred and ten pounds. He's a fighting nightmare and
a blad jacket with zero percent financing through September.
Switches to picture of secretary.
But Kenny get it off against the single mom. She's
five seven, one hundred and thirty, a little junk in
the trunk, but she still got spunk. She's a single
mother of three with a five, six and eight year
old at home. She's also apparently a great cook, mister Jones,
and makes a mean batch of brownies.
Then the sales will have to kick the duncan hinds
on her.
She chases those little brats around all day, so maybe
she'll have the endurance advantage if this fight goes the distance.
Only one way to find out, mister Jones. Let's go
to the action.
Angle on canvas. Sales guy and single Mom are circling.
They hold butcher knives, basketball horn sounds. Angle on Randall
and Dana.
You better watch this. You might have to fight one
of them.
Randall nods, who walks to the front of the cage.
He is still stunned by what he had to do.
Angle on Canvas. There is no talk this time. All
the competitors know the deal. Single Mom is scared, but
she's not crying. She moves with speed and grace. Sales
guy looks clumsy.
I think she's gonna beat him.
Randall watches sales guy, something about the way the man
moves bothers him. Single Mom makes two quick stabs. The
sales guy shuffles back very fast, very athletic. As soon
as he's out of range, he acts clumsy again. Angle
on Randall and danaky.
He's playing possle.
Why would he do that?
How No? Angle on Canvas. Single Mom fakes a thrust,
then tries a lunging swipe aimed at the sales guy's jugular.
Beside steps and catches her arm under his pinning it,
then stabs her five times in the chest, rapid fire style.
Single Mom barely has time to realize what's happening before
sales guy drops her to the canvas.
That must be a Homer Simpson because she just said, Oh,
say hello to his little friend.
Angle on Randall and Dana, Jesus, he moves fast. Randal
looks at the brackets insert brackets. Randal sees that if
he lives through his fight with actor, he would face
sales guy in the semifinals.
How am I going to beat this guy?
I'm gonna die here.
Dana wants to console him. She doesn't know what to say.
She knows she will probably die too. End of episode
two jobs excellent. Yeah, h