Whose Hell Is It, Anyway?
Script: “Whose Hell Is This Anyway?”
Scene #666: The Joystick of Destiny and the Lunch That Burned Too Bright
[We open mid-pose. Flames licking dramatically in the background. Neon tubes sway like awkwardly drunk lightsabers. The rebel commander and his tutu-clad nonsense twin blaze with smolder and sass.]
Rex Havok (disheveled, dashing, and dangerously done):
"I’ve stormed fortresses, survived four interrogations, and once escaped a Sith Lord using only dental floss and a prayer
but this... this lunch date is where I draw the line."
Inferna Blaze (dangerously fit, inexplicably sparkly, and proudly wielding a sandwich like it’s Mjolnir):
"Oh please. You love it. Look at you, standing there like disappointment made you sexy."
Rex (raising a brow, slow smirk creeping in):
"And you look like a hallucination I’d regret and call again."
Inferna (sashaying in combat boots):
"Darling, if you’re going to flirt, at least buy me a drink. Or offer to share my buns."
*[Beat. Rex gestures vaguely at a flaming burger throne. Inferna perches on it like a slightly unhinged fae prince.]
Rex:
"Fine. One drink. But no summoning philosophical goats this time."
Inferna:
"That goat had insight. He taught me to meditate using only interpretive bleating."
*[A suspiciously attractive alien bartender with silver hair rolls up a cart containing a glowing cocktail labeled “Joystick Juice.”]
Rex (sighing):
"...That’s the same drink that erased half my clothes last week."
Inferna (licking the straw with zero shame):
"And yet, you didn’t complain."
Rex (a little too quickly):
"It was hot in here."
Inferna (smirking):
"Sweetheart. It’s Hell. Everything is hot in here."
[They hold eye contact. The flames roar suggestively. Somewhere, a goat bleets.]
DREW CAREY (off-screen, wheezing):
"Points to Inferna for weaponizing sass. Points to Rex for barely holding it together. Points to the goat for existing."
Inferna (offering Rex the sandwich):
"Truce over lunch?"
Rex (stepping closer):
"If I bite into that and ascend to some nonsense dimension, I’m dragging you with me."
Inferna (quietly):
"Deal. Just don’t let go."
[They both take a bite. The lights flicker. A disco ball descends. Applause erupts, somewhere between ironic and eternal.]
Scene #666: The Joystick of Destiny and the Lunch That Burned Too Bright
[We open mid-pose. Flames licking dramatically in the background. Neon tubes sway like awkwardly drunk lightsabers. The rebel commander and his tutu-clad nonsense twin blaze with smolder and sass.]
Rex Havok (disheveled, dashing, and dangerously done):
"I’ve stormed fortresses, survived four interrogations, and once escaped a Sith Lord using only dental floss and a prayer
but this... this lunch date is where I draw the line."
Inferna Blaze (dangerously fit, inexplicably sparkly, and proudly wielding a sandwich like it’s Mjolnir):
"Oh please. You love it. Look at you, standing there like disappointment made you sexy."
Rex (raising a brow, slow smirk creeping in):
"And you look like a hallucination I’d regret and call again."
Inferna (sashaying in combat boots):
"Darling, if you’re going to flirt, at least buy me a drink. Or offer to share my buns."
*[Beat. Rex gestures vaguely at a flaming burger throne. Inferna perches on it like a slightly unhinged fae prince.]
Rex:
"Fine. One drink. But no summoning philosophical goats this time."
Inferna:
"That goat had insight. He taught me to meditate using only interpretive bleating."
*[A suspiciously attractive alien bartender with silver hair rolls up a cart containing a glowing cocktail labeled “Joystick Juice.”]
Rex (sighing):
"...That’s the same drink that erased half my clothes last week."
Inferna (licking the straw with zero shame):
"And yet, you didn’t complain."
Rex (a little too quickly):
"It was hot in here."
Inferna (smirking):
"Sweetheart. It’s Hell. Everything is hot in here."
[They hold eye contact. The flames roar suggestively. Somewhere, a goat bleets.]
DREW CAREY (off-screen, wheezing):
"Points to Inferna for weaponizing sass. Points to Rex for barely holding it together. Points to the goat for existing."
Inferna (offering Rex the sandwich):
"Truce over lunch?"
Rex (stepping closer):
"If I bite into that and ascend to some nonsense dimension, I’m dragging you with me."
Inferna (quietly):
"Deal. Just don’t let go."
[They both take a bite. The lights flicker. A disco ball descends. Applause erupts, somewhere between ironic and eternal.]
For Vibrant Visionaries Challenge #12, word list Nonsense, Hell, Philosophy, Guerrilla, Joystick, Exotic, Lunch
