Episode 7.0 - Hasta la Vista
Episode Credits:
Amanda Hufford as Hannah
Abigail Turner as Cali
Jordan Rudolph as Mel
Will Handford as Bogart
Writing and Sound Design by Damian Szydlo
Sensitivity and Script Reading by Mak Shepard
TRANSCRIPT
FADE IN
[Sound of a truck slowing to a stop - desert ambience -]
MEL
[mumbling]
“This must be our guy… what an asshole.”
[switches key off in the ignition, door swings open and Mel jumps out nonchalantly as an irritated man waits impatiently]
BOGART
[Irritated but also nervous as he’s instantly a little intimidated by Mel on sight. He has kind of a trans-atlantic way of speech]
“You’re… you’re late, I’ll have you know. [notices her gruff demeanor] Dear me. You’re Mel, right?”
MEL
“Yup. Nice sweater-vest, stud.”
[sounds of footsteps as Mel rounds the truck and the voiceover begins]
MEL
[To the Listener]
“So you’re probably wondering how I’m still alive when last you saw me I was living loud and proud in one of Hannah’s flashbacks. That’s a pretty long story and we’ll get there eventually. Which leads to another obvious question, right? Let me guess… it probably goes a little something like “How is it that you’re breaking the fourth wall like Hannah does, Mel?”. To this I could answer that maybe it’s the zombie blood pounding through my veins or could be that we’ve just hit the point of no return in the weirdness that is my life. Hell yeah, an all out peddle to the metal, go for broke kind of fuck-it in regards to the flimsy rules of this stories narrative. I mean it’s probably for the best we kill any expectation of logical cohesion now because between you and me? Things are only going to get even more strange from here on out. Don’t overthink this. Now back to reality.
Great, look, he’s staring at me. Like they do. Countdown 3-2-1-”
BOGART
“They didn’t tell me you were… well… a mutant.”
MEL
[sighs, seems that was the question Mel was expecting]
“That going to be a problem?”
BOGART
“No… No, of course not. I’m aware of your settlement's reputation. I’ve just… never met one of your kind before.”
MEL
“Mutants. That’s what they call us now. Honestly, it’s not even the most indelicate name they’ve pinned on me over the years. Bigots I mean. Like the ones they breed up there in Golden Gate. Before the world puked up all over itself these types were giving me all sorts of bullshit about being queer. Looking at me like I’ve got two heads, as Hannah used to say. A zombie bite that didn’t-quite-take later and I’m a fucking mutant. Before mutant it was ‘freak’, ‘halfer’, ‘dead-ish’ and my personal favorite ‘What the fuck happened to you!?’. So while this slack jawed, waspy, rich kid finds his words let’s talk about how one gets to be 184 pounds of ageless, zombie-human hybrid sexiness in a… can… Alright, I have no idea where I was going with that. Forget it.
Moving on back to what I am. Joining the mutant club is pretty easy. If you’re damn lucky, anyway. It’s pretty much both the world's best and worst lottery and like most things, it’s got steps.
Step 1: Get yourself bit by a zombie. Any mutant will tell you that the burning pain you’re about to go through is absolutely out of this world. I’ve had a kid and I’m telling you I’d rather give birth to a god damn legion then go though turning again.
Step 2: Win a one in a million genetic lottery that ends up making you partially immune to getting turned into a shambling murder husk like all of your friends. Become hated by both zombies and humans alike thanks to the wonders of DNA!
Step 3: Fall in with a group of your new ‘kind’, find your way out to Arizona to get chipped out in Junktown with cool secret government tech like this janky robot arm I’ve got. [sound of robot arm moving] Invasive bionics, what a thrill. What a mood.
It’s probably important to note that I said ‘partially immune’ because we get some… interesting side effects from the zombie flu. That’s the mutant part. Like the weird zombie eyes, some of us get the skin too but alas, I missed out on the patent zombie pallor. The slow-drip immortality is a big one as well as a bit of their healing factor. It’s not enough to save us from critical trauma… We can’t grow back limbs like they do and sometimes it takes some time to kick in. But if someone shoots me or say, I get my arm stuck somewhere it shouldn’t and have to rip the thing off with… well best we don’t get into it but I can heal from that sort of thing in about a week, no problem. Just can’t actually grow limbs back like the Z’s can.
On the flip side, as previously mentioned, people FUCKING HATE YOU. It’s a good thing I can heal because I’ve been shot at SO many times. They steal from you cause of course you’re not an actual human so it’s fine. I almost starved to death once because some asshole stole my truck when I was scavenging an old gas station in the middle of the desert. Guess he didn’t put two and two together about WHY I was scavenging said gas station. Found the guy two miles up the road. Believe me, I put foot to motherfucking ass on that day.
BOGART
“So… are you like… well if you don’t mind me asking how old are you? I’m sorry that’s rude… I just… I mean are you from the before-times?”
MEL
[mutters as she starts to unbuckle the tarp on her truck bed]
“Sure am, fucko. Saw it all go down, if that’s what you’re asking. The zombies, the robots. The best and the worst of humanity. Mostly the worst, come to think of. We really sucked as a people. Didn’t matter though. None of it meant a damn thing in the end. I’m actually pretty sure the last version of human civilization, before we went down screaming, was by far the worst… and let’s be honest, we’ve been pretty shitty throughout recorded history.”
BOGART
“No! Not true! Wrong, I mean! Absolutely incorrect. You would have definitely received a long sounding of the big red buzzer for an answer like that where I come from, missy. As well as a good old fashioned shaming. I would know, I graduated top of my class in before-time history at Golden Gate University.”
MEL
[sarcastic]
“Oh WOW! A long sounding of the big red buzzer, you don’t say! Well, since you know so much, captain mansplain… why don’t you go ahead and tell me how it was back then?”
BOGART
“Well! Yes, I’d love to educate you, actually. I’ll have you know that Old America stood for something. But we got lazy; complacent. Forgot our respectability. We became nothing more than a bunch of degenerates, liars and phoneys. Two bit charlatans, one and all. Essentially, we got the walloping that we had coming to us. A reminder but also an opportunity to reinvent ourselves in a way that’d make the founding fathers proud of us again.”
MEL
“You’re making me think twice about our deal.”
BOGART
“Whatever do you mean?”
MEL
“I mean I hate selling guns to stupid people. So let’s get this done so I can get you up and out of my life.
[sound of the tarp being thrown off the truck bed]
Look upon my works ye mighty and despair. Like we told your people: you can take as many as you can stuff in that little car of yours. Except that one.”
BOGART
“And what’s so special about that old rifle?”
MEL
“It’s mine. I’ve calibrated and tuned it to perfection. I know every inch of that gun. It’s killed hundreds of zombies. God willing, it’ll kill hundreds more if they ever make a comeback around here.”
BOGART
“So it’s the best of the bunch then?”
MEL
“It is. By a longshot.”
BOGART
“I simply must have it then.”
MEL
“Fuck sakes, what’s with you people and pushing your god damn luck-”
BOGART
“I’ll double the payment. Double bounty on food for the season. I can make it happen.”
MEL
[to the listener]
“And there it was. The ass pounding feeling of old world exploitation; alive and well. Golden Gate really was bringing back the old America I remembered. The more things change, the more they always manage to stay the same. I’m going to tell it to you straight - we’re starving out in Junktown and this prick knows it, Listener. Trades been scarce since Felix and his pack moved on up to skirt the Washington Red Sector on through to Canada. As much as I hate to admit it, I miss that bunch. Great farmers… something that’s never really been our strong suit as a rugged collective of old scavs and mutants. If Golden Gate can get away with paying double bounty for this load… well we might be able to get through half a year on that kind of a haul. A lot of mouths can be fed by a double-load of Californian crop and ration.
All for the price of giving her up. Hannah. Yeah, I named the gun after my best friend. Corny as hell, but I’ve gotta face it… mutant make-over be damned; I’m just that kind of girl.”
MEL
[uncomfortable]
“How… how do I know you can back that up? If I give you my gun, how do I know you aren’t going to stiff me.
BOGART
“I have ultra violet access to trade, my girl. Besides, we have a surplus this season and I’d been planning on finding a way to get more out of Junktown in hopes of offloading some of it. A weapon like that, no, a mutant’s zombie killing death machine? Well that’d be a prize to show off, wouldn’t it?”
MEL
[bitter at being exploited]
“Dealing with you Gaters sure does feel like the America I remember, all right.”
BOGART
[saying this as he’s loading guns into his car]
“Meaning what, exactly?”
MEL
[still bitter and a bit more defeated]
“Nothing. You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t understand. It’s a little people thing. Just… go on and take it. I can get a new one. God Bless you sterling Golden Gaters for your unbounding generosity.”
BOGART
[maybe feeling a little like an asshole as he continues to load up]
“And to you! Look, if it makes you feel any better at all, these guns will go a long way to protecting the settlement. I’ll have you know that I’ll take special care of your rifle. Take her as my own. I’m a hell of a marksman, you should know.”
MEL
“I bet. You’re probably top of your class. Whatever. Like I said, take it and get. I want to be on the road before night catches up with us.”
BOGART
“Not before we shake on it. A deal isn’t a deal until we shake on it. That’s common practice. With your human hand as well, that metal monstrosity is likely to crush my own in it’s vice like grip, eh?”
MEL
“This is a bit much. [laughs to herself before realizing he’s serious] You’re… you’re joking, right?”
BOGART
“Absolutely not. Put her there, friend.”
MEL
[mutters]
“And the stupid shall inherit the earth.
Put her there, I guess.”
[Sound of a joy buzzer]
MEL
[smarting from the shock]
“For shit sakes! What the actual-”
BOGART
“Got you! A joy buzzer! A true American classic! Gets ‘em everytime!”
[sound of Bogart opening his car door, getting in and starting to drive away]
As the Terminator once said, Hasta La Vista, Mutant!”
MEL
[shaking her head as Bogart drives away]
“What an asshole…”
[FADE OUT]