PWNed in Kyrgyzstan


Jeremiah Liend
301 Annapolis St E
Saint Paul, MN 55118









PWNed in Kyrgyzstan

By Jeremiah Liend





























Copyright, Jeremiah Liend, 2013.


Thanks.

    This piece would not be possible without contributions from three amazing women, and it is to their spirits, to their gifts, and to their mercies that I dedicate each and every ridiculous and absurd line. The first is my mother, Donna Liend, without whom I would be impossible. The second is Catie Belleveau, who has always been a humble and gracious supporter of the arts and who, in 2008 gave my mayoral campaign a generous donation, under the condition that I would write a play, of any kind. It is that patient leisure that has allowed time and space to coalesce and distill into a work of such crap, that it is sure to get trolled by adbots when we are all bust dust and farts in space. I still owe Monica and Norwood Hall a massive pizza, Mackenzie Lindahl a delivery and a ride as well, and Aunt Vicki and I WILL sing in a church SOME day. We can all hope The Church of Q. And when the spiritual debts of 2008 are paid, we can move on to the Batman for Mayor 2014 campaign with renewed vigor, less finance, and a Batman costume. Finally I must thank Ruth Baker, my own personal savior, the meaning in my life, my inspiration, my The Mastress, my partner in crime and sometimes even in law. My life made a radical change for the better when I threw down the bottle, took up your hand, and became a hobo-terrorist with you. Every day is an adventure, and every night is a mystery. When I see you pwn the nwbs and the nazis in their sandy vaginas, it takes my breath away. I would also like to thank, as a ridiculous afterthought, all of the adbots who so regularly visit my site and offer my faint praise in return for my help in your desire to sell affordable e-cigs and online advice. And to my faithful readers, who have continued to read my lunatic ramblings over the years. I say thanks. 

<3 p="">

JTSL
Q


Cast of Characters:

JESTER. Male, 30s, Former biology student, soldier against his will, medium build.

PREACHER. Male, 20s, Chaplain, member of a cult, soldier against his will, very tall.

THE MASTRESS. Female, 30s, Graduate student turned soldier, bad ass, average.

DR. Q. Male, 40s, Lobotomized super-assassin, average build.





Setting:

A Barn, Groznoye, Kyrgyzstan. The near future. [2040s]. Day. The barn should be smallish and dirty. To stage left there are three stables with animal husbandry equipment and loose hay. To stage right there is a single bale of hay in the upstage corner. There are two exits, one door, preferably sliding, upstage left, and one downstage right 
(Preacher and Jester burst into the barn and leap prone to the ground. They are both laden in combat gear. Preacher brandishes a hot-pink rocket launcher and Jester holds a knife handle. They both crawl towards a corner. )

PREACH
 Holy hell! What the F was that!? We have to GTFO! Did you see them?!

JESTER
 No, I didn’t see anything!

PREACH
All I saw were the impacts. They’re using a suppressor! OH F! We are so PWNed! PWNed so hard! I’ve been shot in the spine!

JESTER
Let me see!

                                                                        (Preacher looks at Jester’s spine)

PREACHER
Is it bad, Jester? Doctor Jester Can You See My Spine!? Am I pwned?

JESTER
It isn’t good, kid.

PREACHER
Give it to me straight!

JESTER
Calm down, it just broke your spine armor. Calm down. Maybe we lost them.

PREACH
Lolz, Jester. I lolz at you. We were herded in here.

JESTER
Just calm yourself. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.

PREACH
We are PWNEd! BWNed and PWNed and F’ed in the A!

JESTER
Letters! Letters.


PREACH
Can you see anything?

JESTER
I’m lying on the ground very comfortably, Preach.  You look.

PREACH
OK. OW! OOOOWWW!!! My spine!

(Preacher and Jester rise to crouching and then standing. They pace in the little room that they are allowed. Jester indicates Preacher’s rocket launcher.)

JESTER
You got a rocket for that?


PREACH
Nah. What is that you got there, kitten?

JESTER
Knife handle.

PREACH
Just the handle?

JESTER
Yes. Ballistic knife. I shot the blade behind me. Do you have your rifle?

PREACH
Dropped it. You?

JESTER
I threw it in the directions of the shots.

PREACH
It have a bayoneted on it?

JESTER
Oh no. Wouldn’t a bayonet be nice?

PREACH
Then…?

JESTER
Oh… just to distract. It was a distracting action.

PREACH
Sure. What are you holding? Grenades? Ammo? Flashbangs?

JESTER
Nothing. Nothing, nothing nothing. I am here to kick ass and chew bubble gum. And I am  all out of bubble gum. And I do not really kick ass.

PREACH
Damn it. FUBAR! Pockets pockets everywhere and not a thing to pwn.

JESTER
What is that? What is that word?

PREACH
What?

JESTER
PWN?

PREACH
What, seriously?

JESTER
Yes, seriously.

PREACH
I use the word all the time.

JESTER
Yes, and I don’t understand it any of the times.

PREACH
Really?

JESTER
Really.

PREACH
For reals!?

JESTER
Yes.

PREACH
It means… uh. To be completely and utterly owned. Defeated.

JESTER
So why don’t you say owned?

PREACH
I don’t know. I think it has to do with a programming error.

JESTER
So, we’re pwned?

PREACH
On hardcore.

JESTER
Curses. We need to escape.

PREACH
Yes! We need to GTFO! You got any bars?

JESTER
BARS! BARRSSS!!!

(Jester pulls out his phone.)

JESTER
YES! We are getting out of here!
(Jester connects with HQ. )

PREACH
Put me on your tooth!

JESTER
I will!

(There is a voice on the other end of the line.)

HQ
Echo bravo victor delta, confirm.

JESTER
Confirm, bulldog, bulldog, bulldog.

HQ
Three bulldogs, confirmed. Go ahead.


JESTER
This is sergeant Whiting with PFC Clemons, we are bingo on ammo and requesting immediate extraction. Over.

HQ
Hold please.

                                                                        (A too long pause.)

JESTER
Hi… hello?

HQ
Sergeant, we are in receipt of your request. Extraction unavailable at this time. You are disavowed. Good luck, and MacBeth. Over and out. 

(There is a loud click.)

JESTER
We are doomed.

PREACH
PWNed! YES! Exactly!

JESTER
Crumbs.

PREACH
PWNED ON HARDCORE!

JESTER
Disavowed like a sad James Bond.

PREACH
This is the suxorz.

JESTER
Stop it with your leet speak! Speak American, damn  it!

PREACH
Sorry. Sorry. When I get nervous I speak in code.

JESTER
We can survive. There must be a way. Whoever is out there doesn’t know that you don’t have a rocket. That’s something. Look around for something we can use.

(Both men look around the barn for usable materials.)

PREACH
Poop. Poop, and piss, and decaying leather goods.

JESTER
A blanket.

PREACH
Bulletproof?

JESTER
Horse.

PREACH
F.

JESTER
Hay.

PREACH
Yeah?

JESTER
Hay. Hay is for horses but cows eat it to, if you don't be quiet ill feed some to you.

PREACH
Now is not the time.

JESTER
Nothing. Nothing useful.

PREACH
We need to GTFO! It is all FUBAR! How good do you think they are?

JESTER
Out there?

PREACH
Yeah.

JESTER
Amazing. They could have taken us at any time. We were herded.


PREACH
F.

JESTER
Letters!

PREACH
Sorry. Sorry. What do we do, Jester? WHAT DO WE DO!?

JESTER
We could bolt? Flee?! Just run for it?

PREACH
And?

JESTER
Be shot in the back? Probably. Spine. Your spine is already in bad shape…

PREACH
Well, then we could rush them. Just bum rush them. Charge. They can’t shoot both of us?

JESTER
I think we both know that’s a lie.

PREACH
Sure.

JESTER
Doomed.

PREACH
PWNed. Well… many of my faiths maintain that dying in battle will get us to heaven, or closer to heaven, so I think, no matter what, we should go down fighting.

JESTER
I don’t know if I want to do that.

PREACH
You would rather go down crying?

JESTER
Maybe…

PREACH
C’mon, man! Let’s go out there and get them! They will never expect it! We have the element of surprise, and our roguish good looks!
JESTER
No. No, we should wait. Every second we are alive is another chance. We can eat hay. Dig in deep. That leather is probably good for a few meals. Worse comes to worse we can eat one another’s hands and faces. We hole up long enough and uur opponent may die of natural causes.

PREACH
You’re funny, Jester. But probably whoever is out there actually has food, which we do not. Food pills, or whatever. We will get weaker while they get stronger. We will eat our hands while their hands remain.

JESTER
That is probably true. I’m talking crazy over here. Thinking of your delicious face.

PREACH
I know. I know, kitten. But, so, for reals, what do we do?

                                                                        (Jester considers seriously.)

JESTER
We die.

PREACH
Negative, Ghost Rider. That is not a good plan. Unless it is fighting. And Odin is real.

JESTER
Well, maybe we should pray to your crazy feathered snake God?

(Preacher is very quiet.)

PREACH
Words hurt more than fists.

JESTER
I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. You are free to worship whatever imaginary creature you want.

PREACH
Thank you.

JESTER
But in all seriousness, I think we are both of us doomed. I don’t see a way out. I wish I did, but I just don’t see it.

PREACH
F.


JESTER
Crumbs.

PREACH
So… what now?

(Jester takes a moment to consider.)

JESTER
You ever hear about Kübler-Ross?

PREACH
Is that a punk group?

JESTER
No. I don’t think so, anyway. Have you heard about the five stages of grief?

PREACH
I may have watched an episode of The Simpsons about it.

JESTER
So we aren’t starting from square one. Well, there was this woman, Elizabeth Kübler-Ross, and she created these stages of death to go through. It was supposed to help cancer patients come to terms with their mortality. Make their transition more comfortable.

PREACH
I don’t think The Simpsons covered that.

JESTER
Well, their writing team isn’t flawless.

PREACH
So?

JESTER
Well, our situation is essentially terminal, and so maybe we should just go through them?

PREACH
Why?

JESTER
To… to calm us? Prepare us? So we don’t die shitting and screaming and what not? In case they have a camera? To make sure our deaths aren’t posted on youtube as hilarious shenanegins? So that we aren’t as horrified at the end of all things? What’s the alternative? Do you have any better ideas?

PREACH
You’re right. OK. I will do your Kübler-Ross thing… but not because you say so.

JESTER
Great! OK. Uh… let’s see. Uh… five stages of grief… just… ah… give me a minute here…

PREACH
Don’t you know it?

JESTER
No no, I do. It’s just been a while since A.P. Psychology.

PREACH
Take your time.

JESTER
First stage… first stage… first stage… OK. AH! DENIAL!

PREACH
Oh! Oh, good. Uh. Let’s see. Here goes nothing; I’m not even supposed to be here!

JESTER
GOOD! Good! Go on!

PREACH
F the draft board anyhow!

JESTER
Right in the A!

PREACH
I was supposed to be a lovable slacker! I was supposed to be at home, taking bong rips and, watching cartoons, and collecting my gubment check for some overblown and relatively minor psychological condition!

JESTER
And I was supposed to be in college! And here I am, in Kyrgyzstan! Kyrgyzstan! I don’t even really know where, on the globe, we are!? Could you even find it on a map?

PREACH
No one could! I hate this place!

JESTER
NO! No, save your hate for anger, let’s stay in denial!


PREACH
Oh good, there is an anger phase?

JESTER
Oh yes!

PREACH
OK. Good. YEAH! I’m not even supposed to BE here!

JESTER
I should be taking biology classes! Studying fish and things! I’m not even good at killing people!

PREACH
Me neither! I’m a chaplain! For Gods sakes! I’m really a pacifist!

JESTER
Me too!

PREACH
I only like simulated killing people!

JESTER
And I don’t even like that!

PREACH
I don’t even like real guns! They scare me!

JESTER
I have been gripped with terror for years!

PREACH
We aren’t even supposed to BE here!

JESTER
And you know what, on a purely scientific level, we aren’t even here!

PREACH
What do you mean?

JESTER
It’s science! We’re made of atoms, right, but the actual material of existence is all just space. I read somewhere, if you were to take all of the cosmos, and remove all of the space between electrons and neutrons and what not, that the entire works would fit in a bucket!

PREACH
A Bucket?

JESTER
Yes!

PREACH
How big a bucket?

JESTER
Five gallon, I think? Like a larger paint bucket?

PREACH
That doesn’t sound right…

JESTER
But it’s true! Why would I lie about that?

PREACH
Just seems like… everything ever would take up more space.

JESTER
But it doesn’t! Life is weird!

PREACH
It sure is…

JESTER
So we aren’t even really here!

PREACH
Sure!

JESTER
And whoever that assassin is out there? Probably not there either!

PREACH
SURE!

JESTER
Maybe they left!?

PREACH
Or maybe we were just hallucinating!

JESTER
Oh, that’s good!

PREACH
Right!? We’ve both probably got PTSD pretty wicked bad! We’re probably just making up the gun shots! And the spine wound! I have a family history of back problems! Those shots were… cars backfiring… or… or ball lightning… or… I dunno!

JESTER
YES!

PREACH
YEAH!

JESTER
Hey, why not take a look out the door and see!?

PREACH
Yeah!

(Preacher takes a moment to bolster his philosophy and peers out the door. Immediately a laser beam paints his forehead. )

JESTER
OH! Oh… no…

PREACH
What?

JESTER
Oh… you’ve… you’ve got a laser on you… on… your face.

PREACH
Oh… oh F.

JESTER
Just… come back in… really slowly.

(Preacher goes back into the barn.)

JESTER
So, that’s denial.

PREACH
NEXT!

JESTER
ANGER!

PREACH
YEAHHHH!!!!

JESTER
I am so angry!

PREACH
I am probably more angry!

JESTER
Well, I very much doubt that. I am VERY angry.

PREACH
What makes you think you are more angry than me?

JESTER
I guess I don’t have anything empirical. I just feel like I am probably more angry than you.

PREACH
Well what are you angry about?

JESTER
Oh… things.

PREACH
And stuff?

JESTER
Wait, what were you angry about earlier!?

PREACH
Kyrgyzstan!!!

JESTER
Yes!

PREACH
F this country!

JESTER
YES!

PREACH
It is like Soviet Russia vomited out a whole country!

JESTER
YES!

PREACH
All these communist buildings and dirty people!

JESTER
SO dirty!

PREACH
It’s like they took all of the most interesting and wonderful things about a culture and then they built grey and terrible walls around it, and then everyone bought blue jeans and coke a cola and said F the rebuilding effort!

JESTER
Oh, you might be more angry than me. You are so angry!

PREACH
I know! But hey, tell me what makes you so angry!

JESTER
Yes!?

PREACH
Yeah!!!

JESTER
Sure! Uh… yes! I’m SO ANGRY!

PREACH
Yeah!?

JESTER
AT WAR!

PREACH
YEAH!!!

JESTER
What are we doing over here!? Killing people for what? Resources? What do they have? Ugly buildings!? What? Why are we here? Stopping communism? You can’t fight a philosophy! You can’t defeat thought! Not with guns! Maybe with education?

PREACH
Keep the anger up! Less speculation!

JESTER
Right! Yes! Yes, so what, we get to DIE!? Because of some dude at the turn of the century writing a book!? Or what? Extremism?! I saw us napalm a school, earlier today, and you think you are curbing extremism with this? What does that serve!? What possible point is there to any of this!?

PREACH
Unleash the fury!!!

JESTER
And also… also… no, I guess that is it. I am mostly angry at war.

PREACH
What is it good for!?

JESTER
Absolutely nothing!

PREACH
Say it again!

JESTER
No. No I’m fine, I think.

PREACH
OK. Are we good with anger?

JESTER
I am also more than a little angry at the army for abandoning us.

PREACH
Yeah. Yeah, I share your anger.


JESTER
Well good. It feels like we are losing some momentum here, so maybe we should move on?


PREACH
Yeah, yeah, what’s next?

JESTER
Bargaining.

PREACH
Oh. Cool. With who?

JESTER
You know, whoever. Whatever?

PREACH
Uh. Well… I guess it is just you. That I can bargain with. So. Our options are somewhat limited here. But no. We can do this… uh… maybe you should die first?

JESTER
Very well.

PREACH
Oh. Well. Uh. That didn’t work.

JESTER
No. Well, maybe? Oh, like we could… or I should put some conditions on it?

PREACH
Maybe? Or maybe we could do something else… like… we could make a suicide pact?

JESTER
What kind?

PREACH
Uh. I dunno. Suicide by assassin? I guess that isn’t really anything new. Or, or you know, you could kill me?

JESTER
Just to… what? To deny them the pleasure?

PREACH
Maybe? Like maybe they get a per-person kill payment?

JESTER
Like a commission?

PREACH
Is that what they mean by a commissioned officer?

JESTER
To be entirely honest I never paid attention to the chain of command.

PREACH
Me neither. We’re pretty terrible soldiers.


JESTER
That much is clear. Look, friend, I honestly don’t know if I could kill you.

PREACH
Yeah. I don’t think I could kill you either. Thanks man.


JESTER
Hey, don’t mention it. Maybe if we had our guns, MAYBE… but I don’t think I could… you know… like beat you to death with hay, for instance.

PREACH
Sure. Or like, choke you. If we had a choke one another pact, someone is going to lose out there. And I probably couldn’t bludgeon you to death either. We sort of end up with the same sort of problems.

JESTER
Sure. Wait! GODS!

PREACH
What?

JESTER
Gods! That’s who most people bargain with!

PREACH
OH! Sure! Like, get rid of my cancer and I’ll join the clergy… or… donate my time to charity or whatever.

JESTER
Obviously a lot of cancer victims are terrible liars. But yes, pray to all your fluffy Gods!

PREACH
And the non-fluffy ones too, here, let me look at The Book of Q and compile a list.

JESTER
Super-awesome!

(Preacher consults his bible to create a list of Gods.)

PREACH
You should get some prayers in too, maybe, just in case? Pascal’s wager and stuff?

JESTER
Sorry, no. Waste of time. I don’t believe in Gods.

PREACH
Well that’s OK, Jester. They don’t believe in you either.

JESTER
There is only one God I respect, and that is the flying spaghetti monster.

PREACH
Don’t worry, he is on the list.


JESTER
Oh good.

PREACH
 I’ve got a list here. And let me just check my cross refrence table… compare THAT to the astrological movements… raise the dead…  and… crumbs. Wait, no! I forgot it’s a leap year! Just a second! That may make all the… no. Nope. Our prayers came back unread. It seems that they all want us to die.

JESTER
Really?

PREACH
For reals. Well, most everyone. I think the Unitarians want us to live, but it’s not clear.

JESTER
Crumbs.

PREACH
WAIT!

JESTER
What!?

PREACH
Why don’t we bargain with them?

JESTER
Who?

PREACH
Whoever is out there!?

JESTER
But… what can we offer them?


PREACH
I dunno!? Tacos! Hamburgers at a latter date! Massive IOUs? Dry hand jobs? Whatever!? We don’t know who we’re dealing with, maybe we can get off with an apology!?

JESTER
You’re right, Preach. Anything is worth a chance.

(Jester pulls out his phone, and suddenly, appearing in the barn, is Dr. Q. This can be accomplished through a number of means, but probably the best would be the back wall presented as a scrim, with the next best being concealed in the bales of hay.)

DR.Q
Hey there.

(Jester and Preacher scream and brandish their impotent weapons at the interloper.)

DR.Q
Relax. I am not really here. I am interfacing with your AR goggles. I am merely a projection. Welcome to the 22nd century, nwbs.

JESTER
Oh good. Lucky for you! Because we didn’t want to poon you!

PREACH
PWN. PWN. Like bone.

DR.Q
The chaplain is correct. But I think you will find that, in the end, it is you who will be pwned.

JESTER
What do you want!?

DR. Q
You called me.

JESTER
Yes, to find out what you want?!

PREACH
An incredibly dry handjob for instance?

                                                                        (Preacher gently blows unto his hand.)
DR. Q
I want only to pwn you.

JESTER
But why!?

DR. Q
Because I am only three from the record.

PREACH
What record?

DR. Q
Highest kill count.

PREACH
Kill count? There’s only one person anywhere close that record…

JESTER
Who are you?

DR. Q
I am Dr. Quaddle.

(Both men gasp.)

JESTER
Dr. Q?


DR. Q
I am that dudeface.

PREACH [Whispered]
We are so pwned…

DR. Q
It’s true! But fear not, you will be becoming part of history. Your pwning will let me finally overtake Vasili Blokhin as the most pwningest man of all time. Blokhin was only killing prisoners, after all. And here I am, out in the middle of whatever the hell country this is, making it happen. You two will tie the record and then… but I am getting ahead of myself. Why don’t you two just walk out into the open? I will make it quick and awesome. I am putting together an assassins training video. Your deaths may be recorded for quality assurance purposes.

JESTER
But, what can we offer you to change your mind? Money? Tacos? Handjobs?

PREACH
DRY handjobs?

(Preacher continues to blow on his hand, which is, by this time very dry.)

DR. Q
I am sorry. The kill count is everything. Emotion is nothing. I will give you all the time you need to come to terms, but the rest is death and dying.

(With that, Dr. Q disappears and Jester and Preacher are left alone.)

PREACH
Dr. Q.

JESTER
The one and only.

PREACH
Well… at least if we let him break the record… we might get in the news? Tweeted or something?


JESTER
Maybe he will be done then? Maybe he will retire?

PREACH
Yeah.

JESTER
We could save countless thousands of others?

PREACH
Yeah… isn’t that something?

JESTER
Yes.


PREACH
Let’s stick with the plan. What comes after bargaining?

JESTER
Depression.

PREACH
Oh good.

JESTER
Yes.

PREACH
We appear to be a step ahead.

JESTER
Yes.

PREACH
I was going to be an actor, once.

JESTER
Really?

PREACH
Yeah. Yeah, I did some stuff. Did a comedy show, off, off, off, off, off, off Broadway.

JESTER
Was it good?

PREACH
It wasn’t bad. I did a couple short films. Online series.

JESTER
I never knew.

PREACH
Well… yeah.

JESTER
I was going to be a teacher.

PREACH
Yeah?

JESTER
I wanted to teach biology.

PREACH
What grade?

JESTER
Oh, high school, maybe middle-school. I like young people. Their brains are like little sponges.

PREACH
I worry that I may be going to hell. If such a thing exists.

JESTER
Yes?

PREACH
Yeah. Well. Yeah. There are a lot of Gods who have a lot of problems with the things I’ve done. I can only hope that Quetsoquaddle saves.

JESTER
Well, I am expecting, and really kind of hoping for, oblivion.

PREACH
Well, that would certainly be much better than hell.

JESTER
Yes. Balls.

PREACH
F.

JESTER
Crumbs.

PREACH
Jester, it has been a pleasure serving with you.

JESTER
Preach, it has been my honor.

(Preacher and Jester embrace.)

JESTER
You ready?


PREACH
Yeah. I think I am.


(Both men prepare to run through the door when suddenly, The Mastress bursts through the door, silenced gun fire spitting behind her.
She hurls herself prone and both men brandish their impotent weapons at her.)

MASTRESS
Don’t shoot you ninnies! It’s me!

PREACH
MASTRESS!

JESTER
THE Mastress!!!

(Both men help her up.)

MASTRESS
What the F are you dudefaces doing here?

JESTER
Nothing.

PREACH
Just waiting to die!

JESTER
Till YOU got here!

PREACH
Is that weapon hot!?

(The Mastress drops her clip.)


MASTRESS
Nope. Bingo on ammo. All I have is my knife.

JESTER
OOOO!

(Jester takes the knife from The Mastress, breaks it, and attempts to put the blade into his handle.)

PREACH
What did you do?

JESTER
It doesn’t work. Damn it.

MASTRESS
You broke my knife.

JESTER
I was trying to fix my handle. Sorry.

(Jester hands The Mastress back her knife handle.)

MASTRESS
Thanks…  Major douche.

JESTER
Sorry.

PREACHER
Do you have anything else deadly? In those fun and exciting pouches and pockets?

MASTRESS
Nothing. All I have is a bag of dicks.

                                                                        (The Mastress shows the men her bag of dicks.)

JESTER
Wow.

PREACH
What a massive bag of dicks.

MASTRESS
There are a few boxes in the bag too. It’s been a busy day.

PREACH
You terrify and delight me.

MASTRESS
Thanks.

PREACH
That is kind of gross though.

MASTRESS
I know. I shame myself with my psychotic behavior, but it helps me cope.\
JESTER
Maybe you could just take a pottery class or something, instead of mutilating the dead.

MASTRESS
Pottery is lame. Genitals are awesome.

PREACH
You are so badass I can’t stand it!

JESTER
He’s right. But WAIT! Yes! You can call HQ!!! You can get us an extraction!

PREACH
Yeah! HQ LOVES you!

MASTRESS
Did you call them?

JESTER
Yes… but we got disavowed…

(Jester and The Preacher kick the dirt in embarrassment.)

MASTRESS
Well, I’ll give it a shot, but this is a pretty hot LZ. I doubt they will give us a lift.

JESTER
Just give it your best shot, we can’t ask for more than that.

(Jester hands The Mastress his phone and she calls.)

HQ
Victor Golf Baker Delta, confirm.

MASTRESS
Shitzu Shitzu Bulldog Ball toy.

HQ
Confirmed, Baker, we have you. Go ahead.

MASTRESS
Lieutenant Baker, at Whiskey Tango Shopvac, requesting immediate extraction, over.

HQ
Hold please.

JESTER
That’s what they said to us at first too…

                                                                        (There is a too long pause.)

MASTRESS
HQ, confirm extract, over.

HQ
Lieutenant Baker, I am sorry to have to tell you, but you are disavowed. Over.

MASTRESS
Disavowment not confirmed, repeat and expand, over.

HQ
Mission Labeled Standoff is off. We have confirmed civilian casualties in numbers exceeding mission parameters. Collateral damages too large to ignore. AFB has fallen back to rearward location and surviving personal have been disavowed. Sorry. Over.

MASTRESS
Disavowment confirmed, HQ, and a solid FU in the A. Over and out.

(The Mastress hands the phone back to Jester.)

MASTRESS
Well, we gave it the old college try, but I think we are pwned.

PREACH
Pwned like nwbs.

JESTER
On hardcore. Whatever that means.

MASTRESS
Well, this is all FUBAR.

JESTER
Yes. We all agree on these things.

PREACH
Sorry you ended up here, Mastress. We’ve been working on an escape, but everything is pointing to being completely hosed.



JESTER
We had just run through the Kübler-Ross, before you got here, but we could do it again, if you are interested?

MASTRESS
No. That’s OK. I took A.P. Psych II. Apparently it is BS.

JESTER
Oh. What do you mean?

MASTRESS
It’s all placebo. Just something that happens as a result of hormones, but you still end up screaming and shitting and what not.

PREACH
F. All of that therapeutic catharsis. Wasted.

MASTRESS
Yeah, my Mom was a grief counselor for several years. According to her, nothing really prepares anyone for death. It is a horrifying and spiritually crippling process bereft of dignity or function.

JESTER
Well, the good news is that the sniper out there is Dr. Q, so at least it will all be over quickly.


MASTRESS
Dr. Q?

PREACH
Yeah.

MASTRESS
For reals?

JESTER
Yes, he hacked our AR a little while ago. He’s super scary.

MASTRESS
What are the odds?

PREACH
You know him.

MASTRESS
Yeah. We dated a while ago.

PREACH
For reals!?

MASTRESS
Yeah. In college. It was…strange.

JESTER
Well, call him!

PREACH
Yeah, call him!

JESTER
Yes! Call him and plead for our miserable lives!

MASTRESS
It has been years. He probably won’t even remember me.

PREACH
Please!?

JESTER
Pretty please!?

MASTRESS
Oh, all right, give me that.

(The Mastress picks up her empty rifle and then connects using Jesters phone and, as before, Dr. Q appears in the middle of the barn, alarming the men into pointing their useless weapons at him.)

DR. Q
I am still JUST a hologram, guys.

                                                                        (Preacher and Jester relax somewhat.)

MASTRESS
Hey.

DR. Q
Hey...  you.

MASTRESS
What’s new?

DR. Q
I’m sorry. Do I know you?

MASTRESS
Oh sure, the gear. It’s Martha.

DR. Q
Who?

MASTRESS
The Mastress.

DR. Q
Oh. Oh. I see. Well. Hello. How are you?

MASTRESS
Oh. You know. OK.

DR. Q
Oh. Good. That’s good.

MASTRESS
You?

DR. Q
Oh. OK I guess. You know. Pizza sandwich. The usual.

MASTRESS
Did you really get a lobotomy?

DR. Q
Yeah. Yeah I did. Right in the brain.

MASTRESS
And how is that going?

DR. Q
Good, I guess. Can’t really complain. Wouldn’t really recommend it to friends, either. It’s a personal choice. What about you? You ever finish your dissertation?

MASTRESS
Still working on it. Final chapters. Waiting to get the drafts back.

DR. Q
Yeah.

MASTRESS
Yeah, you know. “The average doctoral candidate takes up to seven years to complete their dissertation”

DR. Q
Sure.
MASTRESS
Yeah. OK. Well, listen, we were just wondering if you could not kill us?

DR. Q
Oh?

MASTRESS
Yeah. You know, we like living. Quite a bit. And we were just hoping that you could just… you know. Not pwn us in our sandy vaginas?

DR. Q
Oh dear. You know I am three from beating the record?

MASTRESS
Really?

DR. Q
For reals! That communist executioner I always told you about.

MASTRESS
Right! Blumpkin… or something.

DR. Q
No, a blumpkin is a sexual act. Vasili Blokin. Yes.

MASTRESS
So what was his record again?

DR. Q
7,305

MASTRESS
Really!

DR. Q
Right!?

MASTRESS
You HAVE been busy!

DR. Q
I know!

MASTRESS
Man. So you have?

DR. Q
7,303

MASTRESS
That is so great. I am so glad you found something you are good at.

DR. Q
My life was so purposeless until I started really focusing in on killing a lot of people.

MASTRESS
Well… good on you.

DR. Q
Thanks.

MASTRESS
Still, I mean… there are seven billion people out there, all just asking to get PWNed? So… I mean… we’re still wondering if you wouldn’t mind letting us live? We want to live?

DR. Q
 Well… I’ll think about it.

MASTRESS
OK. Thanks.

DR. Q
Sure.

MASTRESS
OK. Well… good chatting.

(The Mastress hangs up and breathes a sigh of relief.)

MASTRESS
Awkward!!!

JESTER
I don’t know how that went.

PREACH
No. I don’t know what happened there.

JESTER
Did that go well?

MASTRESS
I don’t know. He seems very different.


PREACH
Sure.

JESTER
Well.

MASTRESS
Yeah.

JESTER
Well listen, I think we should try to get out of here. While he may be grasped with indecision.

PREACH
Yeah, that makes sense.

JESTER
But… ah. In the event that didn’t work, I was thinking we could leave messages.

PREACH
Like… death messages?

JESTER
Yeah. You know. Just in case.

PREACH
Sure.

JESTER
Preach, you want to go first?

PREACH
Sure.

(Jester hands Preacher his phone.)


PREACH
Where is your uploader?

(Jester helps Preacher navigate.)

JESTER
There, it’s recording.




PREACH
OK. Good uh. Hey! Out there in the interwebs! Just wanted to say that it is probably pretty likely I will not be surviving much longer past this post, so I just wanted to send a shout out to my FB friends and family. Want to send a special thanks to The Church of Q and its Q-Lords for taking me in. Like to give a solid FU to the military and their leadership for getting us into this mess… thanks President For Life Obama! JK. Love you, Barry. Uh… and I guess I just want to send a prayer up to that feathered snake god in the sky, Quetzoquaddle; please watch over myself and my friends as we journey into the unknown and unforeseeable. Please give you divine and serpentine mercy unto us, and smite our enemies. Amen. So mote it be. Uh. That’s it I guess. Don’t do drugs, kids!

(Preacher ends his recording and hands the phone to Jester.)

JESTER
Mastress?

MASTRESS
Sure. I want to send a video mail?

(Jester punches up the correct format. )

MASTRESS
Hey! Hey there, I hope this is recording. I don’t have a lot of time, and I don’t know what is going to happen after this, but if things go bad I just wanted to send you a message to let you know that I love you, and a miss you, and I hope that things are going great for you. Listen, I know that you have always looked up to me and listened to me, and I am so proud of everything you’ve accomplished, but I just want to make sure that you don’t join the army. No matter what you do, DO NOT… join the army. They are going to tell you that you are making a difference and making a better world, but it is all just a lie to get you to kill people and protect their interests. It will only get you killed and others killed, and you are better than that. So. Do good. Make good choices. I love you.

(The Mastress hands Jester his phone back. He types a few characters. )

PREACH
You recording anything?

JESTER
I updated by status to “Pwned in Kyrgyzstan.”

PREACH
That is it?

JESTER
Yeah. It is fine. Pregnant with irony, perhaps.


PREACH
OK. Well, I have a plan.


JESTER
Yeah?

PREACH
I am going to try to camouflage myself with this horse blanket and claim to be a sheep.

(Jester and The Mastress share a look.)

PREACH
It sounds crazy, but it just might work.

JESTER
Well… sure.

(The Preacher puts on the horse blanket and begins to baa loudly.)

PREACH
Good luck dude and chickface. BAAAAA!!!

(The Preacher crawls out of the barn, and soon his baaaing stops.)

JESTER
Did he make it?

MASTRESS
I have my doubts.

JESTER
Well… what now?

MASTRESS
Look, I think that I should go, and you should go out the other door. Dr. Q will be distracted by my presence, and that might give you enough time to escape.

JESTER
That doesn’t make sense.

MASTRESS
It makes total sense.


JESTER
No, wait, listen, come over here and look at the tree line.

(Jester leads The Mastress DSR and they look out the other door.)

JESTER
If you can make it to the tree line, you will be OK. I think I may even see a jeep.

MASTRESS
I can’t see…

JESTER
Look hard.

(As The Mastress peer out the door, Jester attempt to knock her unconscious by hitting her with his knife handle.)

MASTRESS
OW! WTF! Are you doing!?

JESTER
OH! Oh no! I’m SO sorry!

MASTRESS
What were you thinking!

JESTER
I was going to try to knock you out and then draw him away!


MASTRESS
Have you ever knocked anyone out before!?

JESTER
No! NO! I’ve only seen it done in the movies!

MASTRESS
You NWB! That never works! If you ever get knocked unconscious you have a concussion! Either you go into a coma and die, or you only are knocked out for a few seconds! Read it in a cracked article…

JESTER
I’m sorry! I just… I just didn’t want to let you die

MASTRESS
That’s sweet. You’re a very sweet idiot.

JESTER
Thanks. You’re a pretty badass chickface.

MASTRESS
Thanks. Listen, we can both bolt for the tree line. We’ll go together.

JESTER
Yeah?

MASTRESS
Yes.  

JESTER
So, even if we die it will be all Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid?

MASTRESS
Yeah. And there will be a freeze frame and they will make memes with it.

JESTER
Superawesome.

MASTRESS
OK. Let’s get out of here, Jester.
(They both flee from the barn, empty weapons brandished high. There is a very long pause and then Dr. Q enters for real. There must be a difference between how he has appeared before and now to indicate that he is real. Dr. Q peers around the barn and then we see him operate his phone.)

DR. Q
Hey. Hi. It’s Q. Yeah. Yeah, Dr. Q. Yeah. Well, I didn’t kill you, so I thought we could… get coffee… or see a movie… or… dry hand jobs or something, but you’re not here anymore. Apparently. Oh. You escaped. Yeah. No. I was just coming down. From my position.

Jeremiah Liend
301 Annapolis St E
Saint Paul, MN 55118









PWNed in Kyrgyzstan

By Jeremiah Liend





























Copyright, Jeremiah Liend, 2013.
Cast of Characters:

JESTER. Male, 30s, Former biology student, soldier against his will, medium build.

PREACHER. Male, 20s, Chaplain, member of a cult, soldier against his will, very tall.

THE MASTRESS. Female, 30s, Graduate student turned soldier, bad ass, average.

DR. Q. Male, 40s, Lobotomized super-assassin, average build.





Setting:

A Barn, Groznoye, Kyrgyzstan. The near future. [2040s]. Day. The barn should be smallish and dirty. To stage left there are three stables with animal husbandry equipment and loose hay. To stage right there is a single bale of hay in the upstage corner. There are two exits, one door, preferably sliding, upstage left, and one downstage right.

























(Preacher and Jester burst into the barn and leap prone to the ground. They are both laden in combat gear. Preacher brandishes a hot-pink rocket launcher and Jester holds a knife handle. They both crawl towards a corner. )

PREACH
 Holy hell! What the F was that!? We have to GTFO! Did you see them?!

JESTER
 No, I didn’t see anything!

PREACH
All I saw were the impacts. They’re using a suppressor! OH F! We are so PWNed! PWNed so hard! I’ve been shot in the spine!

JESTER
Let me see!

                                                                        (Preacher looks at Jester’s spine)

PREACHER
Is it bad, Jester? Doctor Jester Can You See My Spine!? Am I pwned?

JESTER
It isn’t good, kid.

PREACHER
Give it to me straight!

JESTER
Calm down, it just broke your spine armor. Calm down. Maybe we lost them.

PREACH
Lolz, Jester. I lolz at you. We were herded in here.

JESTER
Just calm yourself. Breathe in. Breathe out. Repeat.

PREACH
We are PWNEd! BWNed and PWNed and F’ed in the A!

JESTER
Letters! Letters.


PREACH
Can you see anything?

JESTER
I’m lying on the ground very comfortably, Preach.  You look.

PREACH
OK. OW! OOOOWWW!!! My spine!

(Preacher and Jester rise to crouching and then standing. They pace in the little room that they are allowed. Jester indicates Preacher’s rocket launcher.)

JESTER
You got a rocket for that?


PREACH
Nah. What is that you got there, kitten?

JESTER
Knife handle.

PREACH
Just the handle?

JESTER
Yes. Ballistic knife. I shot the blade behind me. Do you have your rifle?

PREACH
Dropped it. You?

JESTER
I threw it in the directions of the shots.

PREACH
It have a bayoneted on it?

JESTER
Oh no. Wouldn’t a bayonet be nice?

PREACH
Then…?

JESTER
Oh… just to distract. It was a distracting action.

PREACH
Sure. What are you holding? Grenades? Ammo? Flashbangs?

JESTER
Nothing. Nothing, nothing nothing. I am here to kick ass and chew bubble gum. And I am  all out of bubble gum. And I do not really kick ass.

PREACH
Damn it. FUBAR! Pockets pockets everywhere and not a thing to pwn.

JESTER
What is that? What is that word?

PREACH
What?

JESTER
PWN?

PREACH
What, seriously?

JESTER
Yes, seriously.

PREACH
I use the word all the time.

JESTER
Yes, and I don’t understand it any of the times.

PREACH
Really?

JESTER
Really.

PREACH
For reals!?

JESTER
Yes.

PREACH
It means… uh. To be completely and utterly owned. Defeated.

JESTER
So why don’t you say owned?

PREACH
I don’t know. I think it has to do with a programming error.

JESTER
So, we’re pwned?

PREACH
On hardcore.

JESTER
Curses. We need to escape.

PREACH
Yes! We need to GTFO! You got any bars?

JESTER
BARS! BARRSSS!!!

(Jester pulls out his phone.)

JESTER
YES! We are getting out of here!
(Jester connects with HQ. )

PREACH
Put me on your tooth!

JESTER
I will!

(There is a voice on the other end of the line.)

HQ
Echo bravo victor delta, confirm.

JESTER
Confirm, bulldog, bulldog, bulldog.

HQ
Three bulldogs, confirmed. Go ahead.


JESTER
This is sergeant Whiting with PFC Clemons, we are bingo on ammo and requesting immediate extraction. Over.

HQ
Hold please.

                                                                        (A too long pause.)

JESTER
Hi… hello?

HQ
Sergeant, we are in receipt of your request. Extraction unavailable at this time. You are disavowed. Good luck, and MacBeth. Over and out. 

(There is a loud click.)

JESTER
We are doomed.

PREACH
PWNed! YES! Exactly!

JESTER
Crumbs.

PREACH
PWNED ON HARDCORE!

JESTER
Disavowed like a sad James Bond.

PREACH
This is the suxorz.

JESTER
Stop it with your leet speak! Speak American, damn  it!

PREACH
Sorry. Sorry. When I get nervous I speak in code.

JESTER
We can survive. There must be a way. Whoever is out there doesn’t know that you don’t have a rocket. That’s something. Look around for something we can use.

(Both men look around the barn for usable materials.)

PREACH
Poop. Poop, and piss, and decaying leather goods.

JESTER
A blanket.

PREACH
Bulletproof?

JESTER
Horse.

PREACH
F.

JESTER
Hay.

PREACH
Yeah?

JESTER
Hay. Hay is for horses but cows eat it to, if you don't be quiet ill feed some to you.

PREACH
Now is not the time.

JESTER
Nothing. Nothing useful.

PREACH
We need to GTFO! It is all FUBAR! How good do you think they are?

JESTER
Out there?

PREACH
Yeah.

JESTER
Amazing. They could have taken us at any time. We were herded.


PREACH
F.

JESTER
Letters!

PREACH
Sorry. Sorry. What do we do, Jester? WHAT DO WE DO!?

JESTER
We could bolt? Flee?! Just run for it?

PREACH
And?

JESTER
Be shot in the back? Probably. Spine. Your spine is already in bad shape…

PREACH
Well, then we could rush them. Just bum rush them. Charge. They can’t shoot both of us?

JESTER
I think we both know that’s a lie.

PREACH
Sure.

JESTER
Doomed.

PREACH
PWNed. Well… many of my faiths maintain that dying in battle will get us to heaven, or closer to heaven, so I think, no matter what, we should go down fighting.

JESTER
I don’t know if I want to do that.

PREACH
You would rather go down crying?

JESTER
Maybe…

PREACH
C’mon, man! Let’s go out there and get them! They will never expect it! We have the element of surprise, and our roguish good looks!
JESTER
No. No, we should wait. Every second we are alive is another chance. We can eat hay. Dig in deep. That leather is probably good for a few meals. Worse comes to worse we can eat one another’s hands and faces. We hole up long enough and uur opponent may die of natural causes.

PREACH
You’re funny, Jester. But probably whoever is out there actually has food, which we do not. Food pills, or whatever. We will get weaker while they get stronger. We will eat our hands while their hands remain.

JESTER
That is probably true. I’m talking crazy over here. Thinking of your delicious face.

PREACH
I know. I know, kitten. But, so, for reals, what do we do?

                                                                        (Jester considers seriously.)

JESTER
We die.

PREACH
Negative, Ghost Rider. That is not a good plan. Unless it is fighting. And Odin is real.

JESTER
Well, maybe we should pray to your crazy feathered snake God?

(Preacher is very quiet.)

PREACH
Words hurt more than fists.

JESTER
I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. You are free to worship whatever imaginary creature you want.

PREACH
Thank you.

JESTER
But in all seriousness, I think we are both of us doomed. I don’t see a way out. I wish I did, but I just don’t see it.

PREACH
F.


JESTER
Crumbs.

PREACH
So… what now?

(Jester takes a moment to consider.)

JESTER
You ever hear about Kübler-Ross?

PREACH
Is that a punk group?

JESTER
No. I don’t think so, anyway. Have you heard about the five stages of grief?

PREACH
I may have watched an episode of The Simpsons about it.

JESTER
So we aren’t starting from square one. Well, there was this woman, Elizabeth Kübler-Ross, and she created these stages of death to go through. It was supposed to help cancer patients come to terms with their mortality. Make their transition more comfortable.

PREACH
I don’t think The Simpsons covered that.

JESTER
Well, their writing team isn’t flawless.

PREACH
So?

JESTER
Well, our situation is essentially terminal, and so maybe we should just go through them?

PREACH
Why?

JESTER
To… to calm us? Prepare us? So we don’t die shitting and screaming and what not? In case they have a camera? To make sure our deaths aren’t posted on youtube as hilarious shenanegins? So that we aren’t as horrified at the end of all things? What’s the alternative? Do you have any better ideas?

PREACH
You’re right. OK. I will do your Kübler-Ross thing… but not because you say so.

JESTER
Great! OK. Uh… let’s see. Uh… five stages of grief… just… ah… give me a minute here…

PREACH
Don’t you know it?

JESTER
No no, I do. It’s just been a while since A.P. Psychology.

PREACH
Take your time.

JESTER
First stage… first stage… first stage… OK. AH! DENIAL!

PREACH
Oh! Oh, good. Uh. Let’s see. Here goes nothing; I’m not even supposed to be here!

JESTER
GOOD! Good! Go on!

PREACH
F the draft board anyhow!

JESTER
Right in the A!

PREACH
I was supposed to be a lovable slacker! I was supposed to be at home, taking bong rips and, watching cartoons, and collecting my gubment check for some overblown and relatively minor psychological condition!

JESTER
And I was supposed to be in college! And here I am, in Kyrgyzstan! Kyrgyzstan! I don’t even really know where, on the globe, we are!? Could you even find it on a map?

PREACH
No one could! I hate this place!

JESTER
NO! No, save your hate for anger, let’s stay in denial!


PREACH
Oh good, there is an anger phase?

JESTER
Oh yes!

PREACH
OK. Good. YEAH! I’m not even supposed to BE here!

JESTER
I should be taking biology classes! Studying fish and things! I’m not even good at killing people!

PREACH
Me neither! I’m a chaplain! For Gods sakes! I’m really a pacifist!

JESTER
Me too!

PREACH
I only like simulated killing people!

JESTER
And I don’t even like that!

PREACH
I don’t even like real guns! They scare me!

JESTER
I have been gripped with terror for years!

PREACH
We aren’t even supposed to BE here!

JESTER
And you know what, on a purely scientific level, we aren’t even here!

PREACH
What do you mean?

JESTER
It’s science! We’re made of atoms, right, but the actual material of existence is all just space. I read somewhere, if you were to take all of the cosmos, and remove all of the space between electrons and neutrons and what not, that the entire works would fit in a bucket!

PREACH
A Bucket?

JESTER
Yes!

PREACH
How big a bucket?

JESTER
Five gallon, I think? Like a larger paint bucket?

PREACH
That doesn’t sound right…

JESTER
But it’s true! Why would I lie about that?

PREACH
Just seems like… everything ever would take up more space.

JESTER
But it doesn’t! Life is weird!

PREACH
It sure is…

JESTER
So we aren’t even really here!

PREACH
Sure!

JESTER
And whoever that assassin is out there? Probably not there either!

PREACH
SURE!

JESTER
Maybe they left!?

PREACH
Or maybe we were just hallucinating!

JESTER
Oh, that’s good!

PREACH
Right!? We’ve both probably got PTSD pretty wicked bad! We’re probably just making up the gun shots! And the spine wound! I have a family history of back problems! Those shots were… cars backfiring… or… or ball lightning… or… I dunno!

JESTER
YES!

PREACH
YEAH!

JESTER
Hey, why not take a look out the door and see!?

PREACH
Yeah!

(Preacher takes a moment to bolster his philosophy and peers out the door. Immediately a laser beam paints his forehead. )

JESTER
OH! Oh… no…

PREACH
What?

JESTER
Oh… you’ve… you’ve got a laser on you… on… your face.

PREACH
Oh… oh F.

JESTER
Just… come back in… really slowly.

(Preacher goes back into the barn.)

JESTER
So, that’s denial.

PREACH
NEXT!

JESTER
ANGER!

PREACH
YEAHHHH!!!!

JESTER
I am so angry!

PREACH
I am probably more angry!

JESTER
Well, I very much doubt that. I am VERY angry.

PREACH
What makes you think you are more angry than me?

JESTER
I guess I don’t have anything imerical. I just feel like I am probably more angry than you.

PREACH
Well what are you angry about?

JESTER
Oh… things.

PREACH
And stuff?

JESTER
Wait, what were you angry about earlier!?

PREACH
Kyrgyzstan!!!

JESTER
Yes!

PREACH
F this country!

JESTER
YES!

PREACH
It is like Soviet Russia vomited out a whole country!

JESTER
YES!

PREACH
All these communist buildings and dirty people!

JESTER
SO dirty!

PREACH
It’s like they took all of the most interesting and wonderful things about a culture and then they built grey and terrible walls around it, and then everyone bought blue jeans and coke a cola and said F the rebuilding effort!

JESTER
Oh, you might be more angry than me. You are so angry!

PREACH
I know! But hey, tell me what makes you so angry!

JESTER
Yes!?

PREACH
Yeah!!!

JESTER
Sure! Uh… yes! I’m SO ANGRY!

PREACH
Yeah!?

JESTER
AT WAR!

PREACH
YEAH!!!

JESTER
What are we doing over here!? Killing people for what? Resources? What do they have? Ugly buildings!? What? Why are we here? Stopping communism? You can’t fight a philosophy! You can’t defeat thought! Not with guns! Maybe with education?

PREACH
Keep the anger up! Less speculation!

JESTER
Right! Yes! Yes, so what, we get to DIE!? Because of some dude at the turn of the century writing a book!? Or what? Extremism?! I saw us napalm a school, earlier today, and you think you are curbing extremism with this? What does that serve!? What possible point is there to any of this!?

PREACH
Unleash the fury!!!

JESTER
And also… also… no, I guess that is it. I am mostly angry at war.

PREACH
What is it good for!?

JESTER
Absolutely nothing!

PREACH
Say it again!

JESTER
No. No I’m fine, I think.

PREACH
OK. Are we good with anger?

JESTER
I am also more than a little angry at the army for abandoning us.

PREACH
Yeah. Yeah, I share your anger.


JESTER
Well good. It feels like we are losing some momentum here, so maybe we should move on?


PREACH
Yeah, yeah, what’s next?

JESTER
Bargaining.

PREACH
Oh. Cool. With who?

JESTER
You know, whoever. Whatever?

PREACH
Uh. Well… I guess it is just you. That I can bargain with. So. Our options are somewhat limited here. But no. We can do this… uh… maybe you should die first?

JESTER
Very well.

PREACH
Oh. Well. Uh. That didn’t work.

JESTER
No. Well, maybe? Oh, like we could… or I should put some conditions on it?

PREACH
Maybe? Or maybe we could do something else… like… we could make a suicide pact?

JESTER
What kind?

PREACH
Uh. I dunno. Suicide by assassin? I guess that isn’t really anything new. Or, or you know, you could kill me?

JESTER
Just to… what? To deny them the pleasure?

PREACH
Maybe? Like maybe they get a per-person kill payment?

JESTER
Like a commission?

PREACH
Is that what they mean by a commissioned officer?

JESTER
To be entirely honest I never paid attention to the chain of command.

PREACH
Me neither. We’re pretty terrible soldiers.


JESTER
That much is clear. Look, friend, I honestly don’t know if I could kill you.

PREACH
Yeah. I don’t think I could kill you either. Thanks man.


JESTER
Hey, don’t mention it. Maybe if we had our guns, MAYBE… but I don’t think I could… you know… like beat you to death with hay, for instance.

PREACH
Sure. Or like, choke you. If we had a choke one another pact, someone is going to lose out there. And I probably couldn’t bludgeon you to death either. We sort of end up with the same sort of problems.

JESTER
Sure. Wait! GODS!

PREACH
What?

JESTER
Gods! That’s who most people bargain with!

PREACH
OH! Sure! Like, get rid of my cancer and I’ll join the clergy… or… donate my time to charity or whatever.

JESTER
Obviously a lot of cancer victims are terrible liars. But yes, pray to all your fluffy Gods!

PREACH
And the non-fluffy ones too, here, let me look at The Book of Q and compile a list.

JESTER
Super-awesome!

(Preacher consults his bible to create a list of Gods.)

PREACH
You should get some prayers in too, maybe, just in case? Pascal’s wager and stuff?

JESTER
Sorry, no. Waste of time. I don’t believe in Gods.

PREACH
Well that’s OK, Jester. They don’t believe in you either.

JESTER
There is only one God I respect, and that is the flying spaghetti monster.

PREACH
Don’t worry, he is on the list.


JESTER
Oh good.

PREACH
 I’ve got a list here. And let me just check my cross refrence table… compare THAT to the astrological movements… raise the dead…  and… crumbs. Wait, no! I forgot it’s a leap year! Just a second! That may make all the… no. Nope. Our prayers came back unread. It seems that they all want us to die.

JESTER
Really?

PREACH
For reals. Well, most everyone. I think the Unitarians want us to live, but it’s not clear.

JESTER
Crumbs.

PREACH
WAIT!

JESTER
What!?

PREACH
Why don’t we bargain with them?

JESTER
Who?

PREACH
Whoever is out there!?

JESTER
But… what can we offer them?


PREACH
I dunno!? Tacos! Hamburgers at a latter date! Massive IOUs? Dry hand jobs? Whatever!? We don’t know who we’re dealing with, maybe we can get off with an apology!?

JESTER
You’re right, Preach. Anything is worth a chance.

(Jester pulls out his phone, and suddenly, appearing in the barn, is Dr. Q. This can be accomplished through a number of means, but probably the best would be the back wall presented as a scrim, with the next best being concealed in the bales of hay.)

DR.Q
Hey there.

(Jester and Preacher scream and brandish their impotent weapons at the interloper.)

DR.Q
Relax. I am not really here. I am interfacing with your AR goggles. I am merely a projection. Welcome to the 22nd century, nwbs.

JESTER
Oh good. Lucky for you! Because we didn’t want to poon you!

PREACH
PWN. PWN. Like bone.

DR.Q
The chaplain is correct. But I think you will find that, in the end, it is you who will be pwned.

JESTER
What do you want!?

DR. Q
You called me.

JESTER
Yes, to find out what you want?!

PREACH
An incredibly dry handjob for instance?

                                                                        (Preacher gently blows unto his hand.)
DR. Q
I want only to pwn you.

JESTER
But why!?

DR. Q
Because I am only three from the record.

PREACH
What record?

DR. Q
Highest kill count.

PREACH
Kill count? There’s only one person anywhere close that record…

JESTER
Who are you?

DR. Q
I am Dr. Quaddle.

(Both men gasp.)

JESTER
Dr. Q?


DR. Q
I am that dudeface.

PREACH [Whispered]
We are so pwned…

DR. Q
It’s true! But fear not, you will be becoming part of history. Your pwning will let me finally overtake Vasili Blokhin as the most pwningest man of all time. Blokhin was only killing prisoners, after all. And here I am, out in the middle of whatever the hell country this is, making it happen. You two will tie the record and then… but I am getting ahead of myself. Why don’t you two just walk out into the open? I will make it quick and awesome. I am putting together an assassins training video. Your deaths may be recorded for quality assurance purposes.

JESTER
But, what can we offer you to change your mind? Money? Tacos? Handjobs?

PREACH
DRY handjobs?

(Preacher continues to blow on his hand, which is, by this time very dry.)

DR. Q
I am sorry. The kill count is everything. Emotion is nothing. I will give you all the time you need to come to terms, but the rest is death and dying.

(With that, Dr. Q disappears and Jester and Preacher are left alone.)

PREACH
Dr. Q.

JESTER
The one and only.

PREACH
Well… at least if we let him break the record… we might get in the news? Tweeted or something?


JESTER
Maybe he will be done then? Maybe he will retire?

PREACH
Yeah.

JESTER
We could save countless thousands of others?

PREACH
Yeah… isn’t that something?

JESTER
Yes.


PREACH
Let’s stick with the plan. What comes after bargaining?

JESTER
Depression.

PREACH
Oh good.

JESTER
Yes.

PREACH
We appear to be a step ahead.

JESTER
Yes.

PREACH
I was going to be an actor, once.

JESTER
Really?

PREACH
Yeah. Yeah, I did some stuff. Did a comedy show, off, off, off, off, off, off Broadway.

JESTER
Was it good?

PREACH
It wasn’t bad. I did a couple short films. Online series.

JESTER
I never knew.

PREACH
Well… yeah.

JESTER
I was going to be a teacher.

PREACH
Yeah?

JESTER
I wanted to teach biology.

PREACH
What grade?

JESTER
Oh, high school, maybe middle-school. I like young people. Their brains are like little sponges.

PREACH
I worry that I may be going to hell. If such a thing exists.

JESTER
Yes?

PREACH
Yeah. Well. Yeah. There are a lot of Gods who have a lot of problems with the things I’ve done. I can only hope that Quetsoquaddle saves.

JESTER
Well, I am expecting, and really kind of hoping for, oblivion.

PREACH
Well, that would certainly be much better than hell.

JESTER
Yes. Balls.

PREACH
F.

JESTER
Crumbs.

PREACH
Jester, it has been a pleasure serving with you.

JESTER
Preach, it has been my honor.

(Preacher and Jester embrace.)

JESTER
You ready?


PREACH
Yeah. I think I am.


(Both men prepare to run through the door when suddenly, The Mastress bursts through the door, silenced gun fire spitting behind her.
She hurls herself prone and both men brandish their impotent weapons at her.)

MASTRESS
Don’t shoot you ninnies! It’s me!

PREACH
MASTRESS!

JESTER
THE Mastress!!!

(Both men help her up.)

MASTRESS
What the F are you dudefaces doing here?

JESTER
Nothing.

PREACH
Just waiting to die!

JESTER
Till YOU got here!

PREACH
Is that weapon hot!?

(The Mastress drops her clip.)


MASTRESS
Nope. Bingo on ammo. All I have is my knife.

JESTER
OOOO!

(Jester takes the knife from The Mastress, breaks it, and attempts to put the blade into his handle.)

PREACH
What did you do?

JESTER
It doesn’t work. Damn it.

MASTRESS
You broke my knife.

JESTER
I was trying to fix my handle. Sorry.

(Jester hands The Mastress back her knife handle.)

MASTRESS
Thanks…  Major douche.

JESTER
Sorry.

PREACHER
Do you have anything else deadly? In those fun and exciting pouches and pockets?

MASTRESS
Nothing. All I have is a bag of dicks.

                                                                        (The Mastress shows the men her bag of dicks.)

JESTER
Wow.

PREACH
What a massive bag of dicks.

MASTRESS
There are a few boxes in the bag too. It’s been a busy day.

PREACH
You terrify and delight me.

MASTRESS
Thanks.

PREACH
That is kind of gross though.

MASTRESS
I know. I shame myself with my psychotic behavior, but it helps me cope.\
JESTER
Maybe you could just take a pottery class or something, instead of mutilating the dead.

MASTRESS
Pottery is lame. Genitals are awesome.

PREACH
You are so badass I can’t stand it!

JESTER
He’s right. But WAIT! Yes! You can call HQ!!! You can get us an extraction!

PREACH
Yeah! HQ LOVES you!

MASTRESS
Did you call them?

JESTER
Yes… but we got disavowed…

(Jester and The Preacher kick the dirt in embarrassment.)

MASTRESS
Well, I’ll give it a shot, but this is a pretty hot LZ. I doubt they will give us a lift.

JESTER
Just give it your best shot, we can’t ask for more than that.

(Jester hands The Mastress his phone and she calls.)

HQ
Victor Golf Baker Delta, confirm.

MASTRESS
Shitzu Shitzu Bulldog Ball toy.

HQ
Confirmed, Baker, we have you. Go ahead.

MASTRESS
Lieutenant Baker, at Whiskey Tango Shopvac, requesting immediate extraction, over.

HQ
Hold please.

JESTER
That’s what they said to us at first too…

                                                                        (There is a too long pause.)

MASTRESS
HQ, confirm extract, over.

HQ
Lieutenant Baker, I am sorry to have to tell you, but you are disavowed. Over.

MASTRESS
Disavowment not confirmed, repeat and expand, over.

HQ
Mission Labeled Standoff is off. We have confirmed civilian casualties in numbers exceeding mission parameters. Collateral damages too large to ignore. AFB has fallen back to rearward location and surviving personal have been disavowed. Sorry. Over.

MASTRESS
Disavowment confirmed, HQ, and a solid FU in the A. Over and out.

(The Mastress hands the phone back to Jester.)

MASTRESS
Well, we gave it the old college try, but I think we are pwned.

PREACH
Pwned like nwbs.

JESTER
On hardcore. Whatever that means.

MASTRESS
Well, this is all FUBAR.

JESTER
Yes. We all agree on these things.

PREACH
Sorry you ended up here, Mastress. We’ve been working on an escape, but everything is pointing to being completely hosed.



JESTER
We had just run through the Kübler-Ross, before you got here, but we could do it again, if you are interested?

MASTRESS
No. That’s OK. I took A.P. Psych II. Apparently it is BS.

JESTER
Oh. What do you mean?

MASTRESS
It’s all placebo. Just something that happens as a result of hormones, but you still end up screaming and shitting and what not.

PREACH
F. All of that therapeutic catharsis. Wasted.

MASTRESS
Yeah, my Mom was a grief counselor for several years. According to her, nothing really prepares anyone for death. It is a horrifying and spiritually crippling process bereft of dignity or function.

JESTER
Well, the good news is that the sniper out there is Dr. Q, so at least it will all be over quickly.


MASTRESS
Dr. Q?

PREACH
Yeah.

MASTRESS
For reals?

JESTER
Yes, he hacked our AR a little while ago. He’s super scary.

MASTRESS
What are the odds?

PREACH
You know him.

MASTRESS
Yeah. We dated a while ago.

PREACH
For reals!?

MASTRESS
Yeah. In college. It was…strange.

JESTER
Well, call him!

PREACH
Yeah, call him!

JESTER
Yes! Call him and plead for our miserable lives!

MASTRESS
It has been years. He probably won’t even remember me.

PREACH
Please!?

JESTER
Pretty please!?

MASTRESS
Oh, all right, give me that.

(The Mastress picks up her empty rifle and then connects using Jesters phone and, as before, Dr. Q appears in the middle of the barn, alarming the men into pointing their useless weapons at him.)

DR. Q
I am still JUST a hologram, guys.

                                                                        (Preacher and Jester relax somewhat.)

MASTRESS
Hey.

DR. Q
Hey...  you.

MASTRESS
What’s new?

DR. Q
I’m sorry. Do I know you?

MASTRESS
Oh sure, the gear. It’s Martha.

DR. Q
Who?

MASTRESS
The Mastress.

DR. Q
Oh. Oh. I see. Well. Hello. How are you?

MASTRESS
Oh. You know. OK.

DR. Q
Oh. Good. That’s good.

MASTRESS
You?

DR. Q
Oh. OK I guess. You know. Pizza sandwich. The usual.

MASTRESS
Did you really get a lobotomy?

DR. Q
Yeah. Yeah I did. Right in the brain.

MASTRESS
And how is that going?

DR. Q
Good, I guess. Can’t really complain. Wouldn’t really recommend it to friends, either. It’s a personal choice. What about you? You ever finish your dissertation?

MASTRESS
Still working on it. Final chapters. Waiting to get the drafts back.

DR. Q
Yeah.

MASTRESS
Yeah, you know. “The average doctoral candidate takes up to seven years to complete their dissertation”

DR. Q
Sure.
MASTRESS
Yeah. OK. Well, listen, we were just wondering if you could not kill us?

DR. Q
Oh?

MASTRESS
Yeah. You know, we like living. Quite a bit. And we were just hoping that you could just… you know. Not pwn us in our sandy vaginas?

DR. Q
Oh dear. You know I am three from beating the record?

MASTRESS
Really?

DR. Q
For reals! That communist executioner I always told you about.

MASTRESS
Right! Blumpkin… or something.

DR. Q
No, a blumpkin is a sexual act. Vasili Blokin. Yes.

MASTRESS
So what was his record again?

DR. Q
7,305

MASTRESS
Really!

DR. Q
Right!?

MASTRESS
You HAVE been busy!

DR. Q
I know!

MASTRESS
Man. So you have?

DR. Q
7,303

MASTRESS
That is so great. I am so glad you found something you are good at.

DR. Q
My life was so purposeless until I started really focusing in on killing a lot of people.

MASTRESS
Well… good on you.

DR. Q
Thanks.

MASTRESS
Still, I mean… there are seven billion people out there, all just asking to get PWNed? So… I mean… we’re still wondering if you wouldn’t mind letting us live? We want to live?

DR. Q
 Well… I’ll think about it.

MASTRESS
OK. Thanks.

DR. Q
Sure.

MASTRESS
OK. Well… good chatting.

(The Mastress hangs up and breathes a sigh of relief.)

MASTRESS
Awkward!!!

JESTER
I don’t know how that went.

PREACH
No. I don’t know what happened there.

JESTER
Did that go well?

MASTRESS
I don’t know. He seems very different.


PREACH
Sure.

JESTER
Well.

MASTRESS
Yeah.

JESTER
Well listen, I think we should try to get out of here. While he may be grasped with indecision.

PREACH
Yeah, that makes sense.

JESTER
But… ah. In the event that didn’t work, I was thinking we could leave messages.

PREACH
Like… death messages?

JESTER
Yeah. You know. Just in case.

PREACH
Sure.

JESTER
Preach, you want to go first?

PREACH
Sure.

(Jester hands Preacher his phone.)


PREACH
Where is your uploader?

(Jester helps Preacher navigate.)

JESTER
There, it’s recording.




PREACH
OK. Good uh. Hey! Out there in the interwebs! Just wanted to say that it is probably pretty likely I will not be surviving much longer past this post, so I just wanted to send a shout out to my FB friends and family. Want to send a special thanks to The Church of Q and its Q-Lords for taking me in. Like to give a solid FU to the military and their leadership for getting us into this mess… thanks President For Life Obama! JK. Love you, Barry. Uh… and I guess I just want to send a prayer up to that feathered snake god in the sky, Quetzoquaddle; please watch over myself and my friends as we journey into the unknown and unforeseeable. Please give you divine and serpentine mercy unto us, and smite our enemies. Amen. So mote it be. Uh. That’s it I guess. Don’t do drugs, kids!

(Preacher ends his recording and hands the phone to Jester.)

JESTER
Mastress?

MASTRESS
Sure. I want to send a video mail?

(Jester punches up the correct format. )

MASTRESS
Hey! Hey there, I hope this is recording. I don’t have a lot of time, and I don’t know what is going to happen after this, but if things go bad I just wanted to send you a message to let you know that I love you, and a miss you, and I hope that things are going great for you. Listen, I know that you have always looked up to me and listened to me, and I am so proud of everything you’ve accomplished, but I just want to make sure that you don’t join the army. No matter what you do, DO NOT… join the army. They are going to tell you that you are making a difference and making a better world, but it is all just a lie to get you to kill people and protect their interests. It will only get you killed and others killed, and you are better than that. So. Do good. Make good choices. I love you.

(The Mastress hands Jester his phone back. He types a few characters. )

PREACH
You recording anything?

JESTER
I updated by status to “Pwned in Kyrgyzstan.”

PREACH
That is it?

JESTER
Yeah. It is fine. Pregnant with irony, perhaps.


PREACH
OK. Well, I have a plan.


JESTER
Yeah?

PREACH
I am going to try to camouflage myself with this horse blanket and claim to be a sheep.

(Jester and The Mastress share a look.)

PREACH
It sounds crazy, but it just might work.

JESTER
Well… sure.

(The Preacher puts on the horse blanket and begins to baa loudly.)

PREACH
Good luck dude and chickface. BAAAAA!!!

(The Preacher crawls out of the barn, and soon his baaaing stops.)

JESTER
Did he make it?

MASTRESS
I have my doubts.

JESTER
Well… what now?

MASTRESS
Look, I think that I should go, and you should go out the other door. Dr. Q will be distracted by my presence, and that might give you enough time to escape.

JESTER
That doesn’t make sense.

MASTRESS
It makes total sense.


JESTER
No, wait, listen, come over here and look at the tree line.

(Jester leads The Mastress DSR and they look out the other door.)

JESTER
If you can make it to the tree line, you will be OK. I think I may even see a jeep.

MASTRESS
I can’t see…

JESTER
Look hard.

(As The Mastress peer out the door, Jester attempt to knock her unconscious by hitting her with his knife handle.)

MASTRESS
OW! WTF! Are you doing!?

JESTER
OH! Oh no! I’m SO sorry!

MASTRESS
What were you thinking!

JESTER
I was going to try to knock you out and then draw him away!


MASTRESS
Have you ever knocked anyone out before!?

JESTER
No! NO! I’ve only seen it done in the movies!

MASTRESS
You NWB! That never works! If you ever get knocked unconscious you have a concussion! Either you go into a coma and die, or you only are knocked out for a few seconds! Read it in a cracked article…

JESTER
I’m sorry! I just… I just didn’t want to let you die

MASTRESS
That’s sweet. You’re a very sweet idiot.

JESTER
Thanks. You’re a pretty badass chickface.

MASTRESS
Thanks. Listen, we can both bolt for the tree line. We’ll go together.

JESTER
Yeah?

MASTRESS
Yes.  

JESTER
So, even if we die it will be all Butch Cassidy and The Sundance Kid?

MASTRESS
Yeah. And there will be a freeze frame and they will make memes with it.

JESTER
Superawesome.

MASTRESS
OK. Let’s get out of here, Jester.
(They both flee from the barn, empty weapons brandished high. There is a very long pause and then Dr. Q enters for real. There must be a difference between how he has appeared before and now to indicate that he is real. Dr. Q peers around the barn and then we see him operate his phone.)

DR. Q
Hey. Hi. It’s Q. Yeah. Yeah, Dr. Q. Yeah. Well, I didn’t kill you, so I thought we could… get coffee… or see a movie… or… dry hand jobs or something, but you’re not here anymore. Apparently. Oh. You escaped. Yeah. No. I was just coming down. From my position.

(As Dr. Q talks, The Mastress walks up from behind.)


Yes. Thanks.  So… that’s a negative on the hand jobs? I see. I see. DRY hand jobs? OK. Well. Uh. I’ll see you around.

(There is a snap, and The Mastress shoots Dr. Q in the back with a ballistic knife.)
                                                                         

DR. Q
Oh! Oh… you PWNed me… you done… pwned…

(Dr. Q dies. The Mastress removes the knife and crouches downstage of Dr. Q. We hear a zip, and a horrible noise, and The Mastress places something unseen into her bag of dicks.)

MASTRESS
7,306. Sorry, doctor. But they don’t call me The Mastress for funsies.

                                                                        (The Mastress exits.)

THE END

 (As Dr. Q talks, The Mastress walks up from behind.)


Yes. Thanks.  So… that’s a negative on the hand jobs? I see. I see. DRY hand jobs? OK. Well. Uh. I’ll see you around.

(There is a snap, and The Mastress shoots Dr. Q in the back with a ballistic knife.)
                                                                         

DR. Q
Oh! Oh… you PWNed me… you done… pwned…

(Dr. Q dies. The Mastress removes the knife and crouches downstage of Dr. Q. We hear a zip, and a horrible noise, and The Mastress places something unseen into her bag of dicks.)

MASTRESS
7,306. Sorry, doctor. But they don’t call me The Mastress for funsies.

                                                                        (The Mastress exits.)

THE END


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