EXT. PLATEAU - NIGHT
Two GUARDS, RICOCHET and MISSILE, are at their posts.
RICOCHET
This is one of the few stories I
remember.
MISSILE
Hit me.
RICOCHET
Some guy named Moses. He's a Jew in
Egypt, during a time and place where
things aren't very good for the Jews
in Egypt.
MISSILE
Sucks for him.
RICOCHET
So he goes to the Egyptian king, and
he's like, "I'm going to take my
people out of this crummy place.
And if you don't like it, a whole
bunch of bad things are going to
happen to you." He knew this because
he was doing what God wanted.
MISSILE
Ah, jeez.
RICOCHET
I told you, this is a biblical story.
MISSILE
Go on.
RICOCHET
So the Egyptian king laughs in Moses'
face. "You and the Jews? Leaving?
Good luck." So then all these bad
things start happening...
MISSILE
Bombs start fallin' from the sky?
RICOCHET
There weren't any bombs in these
times. I'm talking like, rivers
turn to blood, neverending darkness,
and swarms of bugs that eat anything
and everything.
MISSILE
So what happens to the Jews?
RICOCHET
The king releases them. But only
after God decided to kill the king's
firstborn son. Rivers of blood and
swarms of bugs didn't phase this
guy, apparently.
MISSILE
And where did the Jews go once they
left?
RICOCHET
To the middle of the fucking desert.
MISSILE
That was a terrible story.
Behind them, BOMBER sets IEDs in the dirt. He shoots
Richochet and Missile a dirty look.
BOMBER
Can you shut up for a second? I
need peace and quiet to time these
properly!
MISSILE
Just do your fucking job, Bomber.
RICOCHET
(to Missile)
This better be the real thing. I'm
steamed thinking how much fuel we've
wasted to get here.
Nearby, no-nonsense leader CLUTCH checks the engine on the
rusted-out four-wheeler they drove out here. LOCKSMITH swigs
from a canteen as he taps on a laptop in the front seat.
MISSILE
Clutch thinks there will be chocolate.
RICHOCHET
You can forget soap, clothing,
wrenches, guns, all the things that
make a man a man. You mention
chocolate and I'm done for.
(seriously)
I'd kill someone.
BOMBER
Bombs are set!
Clutch calls from the four-wheeler:
CLUTCH
Let's go!
Ricochet, Missile, and Bomber come stand behind the four-
wheeler. Locksmith logs a few more keystrokes on the
computer.
LOCKSMITH
All good to go. Ready when you are,
Clutch.
Clutch takes a long look at the empty, scorched earth that
stretches out before them. Like the rest of his crew, Clutch
is a hardened veteran of this landscape, and has suffered
for too long in whatever circumstances have led to setting
nighttime bombs in the middle of nowhere.
CLUTCH
Let 'er rip.
Locksmith enters a final command. A timer appears on the
laptop's screen.
LOCKSMITH
Sixty seconds.
He takes the laptop and his canteen, and joins the rest of
the crew on the side of the car opposite the IEDs. They
wait.
MISSILE
I was thinkin'.
BOMBER
Oh, here we go.
MISSILE
I don't know any stories at all.
Bibilical or otherwise. My mother
used the sound a computer makes when
it's running to help me fall asleep.
I'm not going to be able to share
that with anyone.
CLUTCH
A big piece of your soul you didn't
know you were missing.
MISSILE
Yeah. Thanks again for that awful
story, Ricochet.
RICOCHET
My pleasure.
CLUTCH
Missile, with any luck, you'll get
to create some stories of your own
before you die of disease or
starvation.
LOCKSMITH
You killed those Locusts from a
hundred yards away. That's somethin'.
Missile pulls out some gilded trinkets from under his shirt.
MISSILE
Took their daddy's jewelery too.
Was gonna hang the next Locust from
a tree with these. But they're
growing on me.
BOMBER
Guys! Shut up. The countdown's
stopped.
Sure enough, on Bomber's laptop, the countdown has reached
zero.
BOMBER
Something's not right.
(trying to contain
his panic)
Maybe I got my wires crossed. There
was nothing I could do. I didn't
have enough time to work with this