User:DiZ/Sandbox

User:DiZ/Ten Little Uncyclopedians

A mysterious island, ten mysterious strangers, gathered for a mysterious "job". But below this mysterious placid exterior, a mysterious secret binds them. Murder, deceit, a mysterious nursery rhyme. Do you get it yet, it's a mystery?...

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Characters

• Justice Dmitrius Codeineborg - cantankerous old judge and collector of powdered wigs
• Cerry DuWyn - French maid, grammar nazi
• Mario Dizzario - Italian pastry chef and part-time priest
• Lord Fluffavarius von Flugtag - questionable man of questionable nationality, of questionable lordship
• Lady K.T. van Flugtag - questionable woman of questionable wifehood to Lord Fluffavarius...questionably
• General Highmoore Gruewall - retired British general, Grue specialist
• Dr. Draklor M. Haille - alcohol-addicted surgeon suffering from severe OCD
• Count Ludwig-Janssen van der Lego - owner of Lego, Inc., manufacturer of small plastic parts for infants
• Dr. Oliver Propenström - Swedish proctologist and medieval torture device aficionado
• Baron Phillip Zombard - a rich bastard

Minor characters

• Karlkun Goldstein - sleezy, manipulative Jew
• "One-eyed" Jack Narracott - cyclopic boatman
• Apecat - a hideous hodgepodge of various sundry beasts, and Cerry DuWyn's pet
• Driver - taxi driver
• Seedy Man - a seedy man
• Servant - Baron Zombard's servant

Act I

Scene 1

(The scene opens on a scenic country drive. Outside, the dark, heavy skies forbode an oncoming storm. Along a dusty dirt road, a lone car plows haphazardly through puddles and grasses. Inside, MR. JUSTICE DMITRIUS CODEINEBORG winces through the pounding rain on his windshield, muttering and cursing to himself.)

Codeineborg: Damn this weather! I should have stayed at home and hired a hooker. Well, maybe there'll be some at this Uncyclopedian Island...

(Codeineborg adjusts ostentatiously large powdered wig. Turns on FM radio, and immediately hears Vanilla Ice. Glancing around quickly, Codeineborg turns up volume and jams)

Codeineborg: Yo, VIP, let's kick it!!

(Bobs head erratically, clearly out of rhythm)

Codeineborg: "Ice, ice, baby...ice, ice baby. All right stop, collaborate and listen. Ice is back with my brand new invention."

(Lets go of steering wheel. Raps some more.)

Codeineborg: "If there was a problem, yo, I'll solve it. Check out the hook while my DJ" -- hey!

(Radio suddenly goes to static. Codeineborg plays with dials, trying to return the Ice.)

Codeineborg: Hmph. This is going to be a long trip...

Scene 2

(Scene opens on a third-class train carriage. A number of people are sitting, including GENERAL HIGHMOORE GRUEWALL, MARIO DIZZARIO, and DOCTOR OLIVER PROPENSTRÖM. Dr. Propenström eyes Mr. Dizzario oddly.)

Propenström: (muttering) My, that guido's a queer chap.

(Dizzario bites into a delicious glazed donut, spewing thick white cream all over himself)

Propenström: Filthy beast...

Dizzario: Excuse-a me-a, sir? Did you just-a call me a filthy beast?

Propenström: No lad, that was a soliloquy. You weren't supposed to hear that.

Dizzario: Ah, yes. Ok-a. Do you want-a one of my-a delicious donuts?

Propenström: I most certainly do not.

Gruewall: I'll have a donut, lad.

(Dizzario hands Gruewall one of his delicious donuts. Gruewall eats with half-hearted discontent.)

Gruewall: Quite good, yes. General Highmoore Gruewall. And you are..?

Dizzario: Dizzario! Mario Dizzario! I am a pastry chef! I also serve-a the Lord when I have-a time-a.

Gruewall: Ah, a good Christian man. That's what I like to --

Dizzario: No-a, sir! I serve-a Ouroboros! Lord-a of the Donuts!

Gruewall: Oh..oh my, well yes. Very good.

(An awkward silence ensues, shortly broken by one of Dizzario's manic rants about his religion)

Dizzario: So, in-a third grade, that is-a when I knew-a, I wanted to be a priest-a! And in the fourth grade-a, I started my own-a lemonade and donut stand, and in fifth --

Propenström: Good God, shut up, man!

Gruewall: Yes, for the love of Ouroboros...dammit, he has me saying it...

Scene 3

(Scene opens on the smoking carriage, second-class. Within, DOCTOR DRAKLOR M. HAILLE looks at the latest issue of Penthouse, disguised surreptitiously as a medical journal. On the other side of the coach, COUNT LUDWIG-JANSSEN VAN DER LEGO smokes a fine Cuban cigar.)

Haille: (whispering) Yes, that's it, give it to me...

(Dr. Haille's hand can be seen reaching down into his trousers. van der Lego glances anxiously at his fellow passenger. Haille is seen pulling out a flask from within his pants, and taking a gulp from it. van der Lego is visibly relieved, though somewhat dissappointed.)

(Dr. Haille takes another gulp from his hip flask. And another. And another.)

Lego: My God, sir, are you all right?

Haille: Oh yes, I'm quite fine. (takes another swig) Just my OCD.

(takes yet another mouthful of alcohol)

Haille: And my...alcoholism...

Lego: Is that a medical journal?! Good God, man, are you a doctor?!

(van der Lego appears horrified)

Haille: Oh no no no! This is a men's magazine (Haille lifts up the magazine, revealing a picture of a topless woman in nursing apparel) But yes, I'm a doctor.

Scene 4

(Scene opens on a similar country road. A time-worn, rusted subcompact makes its way down the path. Within are LORD FLUFFAVARIUS VON FLUGTAG and his wife LADY K.T.. The lord is behind the wheel. Because women are horrible drivers.)

Lady Flugtag: Fluffavarius, dear, you're going the wrong way. This is not the way to Devon.

(..and annoying as hell.)

Lord Flugtag: Woman, I've been to Devon more times than I can count! Now you let me drive or so help me I will smite you with fire from the heavens!

Lady Flugtag: (muttering under her breath) Fire from the heavens, my arse...

Lord Flugtag: (still driving) What did you say?!

Lady Flugtag: I said, 'Pull over and ask for directions.'

Lord Flugtag: I don't need directions. I know exactly where I'm going.

Lady Flugtag: (muttering) Just like a man...

Lord Flugtag: (glances at his wife with contempt and bitter wrath) Very well...

(The car pulls over to a nearby petrol station. Lady Flugtag rolls down the window. A seedy man approaches the car.)

Seedy Man: Yes? How can I help you people?

Lady Flugtag: We're heading to a place called Uncyclopedian Island, on business; and we've never been to these parts before. How do we --

Lord Flugtag: Damn you Katherine I've told you I've been here before I know exactly where I'm going, you --

Seedy Man: You're going the right way. The town be right down this road, and talk to a man named One-Eyed Jack.

Lord Flugtag: (to his wife) I told you!

Seedy Man: Argh, if I may?..

Lord Flugtag: Yes, of course.

Seedy Man: It seems to me that you, sir, are a monumental arsehole.

Scene 6

(Scene opens on a private jet. Inside, BARON PHILLIP ZOMBARD is smoking another fine Cuban cigar, made of money.)

Zombard: Haha, I'm such a rich bastard.

(blows smoke rings)

Zombard: Haha, such a rich, talented bastard.

(A servant emerges from the cockpit. Baron Zombard thinks about the word "cockpit" and laughs to himself.)

Servant: Sir, your money-bath is ready.

Zombard: Ah yes, wonderful.

(Zombard removes his garments, revealing a decrepit senile body sagging under the weight of its age. His penis alone is indistinguishable from the ridiculous maze of skin folds surrounding his crotch.)

Zombard: Jeffrey!

Servant: Yessir?

Zombard: Wax my arse, Jeffrey, you know that.

(Jeffrey begins waxing Baron Zombard's arse with a cloth. When he is done, Zombard enters his bathing room and slips into the tub of money.)

Zombard: Oh, lovely. Ah...money... (smells money) If everyone else on this island is as rich as I am, we are going to have one hell of a time. Jeffrey!

(Jeffrey enters)

Servant: Yessir?

Zombard: Bathe me, Jeffrey, you know that.

Servant: Right away, sir.

(Jeffrey bathes Baron Zombard using his palms and baby oil.)

Zombard: Do you like it, Jeffrey? Do you like rubbing my arse?

Servant: (complacent) Yes, sir.

Zombard: Yes, of course you do. Now...go ahead and rub my bollocks...

Scene 7

(Scene opens on a train station. People are shuffling about, parcels are being dragged along. The train comes to a stop, and its passengers disembark one by one. First Oliver Propenström, then General Gruewall, Dizzario, and last, Dr. Haille and van der Lego. One of the taxi drivers comes forth, eyes bloodshot, hair frazzled, the smell of alcohol under his breath.)

Driver: U'zigabadia' I'an? Ugh??

Gruewall: Come again?

Driver: Bloo'y fu'g, I say: Un-cy-clo-pe-dian (burp) I'and?

All: Aye.

(Five people cast surprised glances at one another. Dr. Haille takes another glance. And another.)

Driver: Well, ge' in, I've no time ta waste. 'Aven't 'ad a fing ta drink since noon.

Lego: Should you be driving in your condition?

Driver: Wha' bloo'y cunnition?! I'm fein!! Now ge' in.

(As the porters fit the luggage into the back of the taxi, the five people try desperately to squeeze into the car.)

Propenström: (addressing Dizzario) My, you're a fat one.

Gruewall: Propenström, I dare say, you're crushing my bollocks.

Lego: All of you pipe down!

Haille: Hey, who took my magazine?!

Lego: It's the wop.

(Dizzario can be seen flipping through Dr. Haille's magazine with wide-eyed apprehension.)

Dizzario: Mama mia! What does that women have in her cooch?!

(Dr. Haille quickly snatches back the men's magazine.)

Haille: It's -- It's a toblerone.

(All turn to look at Haille. Awkward silence ensues.)

Driver: Eh we're 'ere!

Gruewall: It's a wonder he didn't kill us all...

(As they exit the car, they notice a fire hydrant inconveniently lodged in the taxi's grille.)

Gruewall: (groaning) Oh, of course...

(The landscape is now a warm, maritime town. Seagulls are circling the skies, and in the horizon, the profile of a potato-shaped island lies mysterious and still against the sea.)

Haille: That's it, I suppose.

Gruewall: Looks like a...potato? Maybe a yam.

Dizzario: Looks-a like a donut, to me-a.

Gruewall: Yes, I suppose it rather would, wouldn't it?

Driver: Erhhh, there's yer man... (points to a lank-haired seagoing gentleman) 'Ey, Jack!

(Man walks forward. He is missing his left eye, and has a prominent snaggletooth. He also walks with a trite limp.)

Jack: Aye, what do you want?

Driver: (addressing the travelers) Eh, dis is ol' Jack Narracott. We call 'im One-Eyed Jack onaccounta' 'ee got one eye. Dat 'ideous, bugger-eyed beast 'ee is...

Jack: You drunk again, Jimmy?

Driver: No I en't drunk! (stumbles and falls onto a gravel path)

Jack: Arrgh, well you be careful drivin'.

Driver: Eh, bugger off, ye cyclops-lookin' beast.

Jack: (addressing group) Argh, let's go.

(One-Eyed Jack leads the passengers to a small motorboat lying along the sea.)

Propenström: Are we supposed to get in that thing?

Jack: Argh, gotta wait for the rest of the group.

Lego: There's more of us?

Jack: Aye, and here come two o' dem.

(An old car pulls alongside the marina. Lord and Lady Flugtag emerge, looking thoroughly pissed. The cacophony of their yells echoes across the town.)

Jack: (interrupting the yelling) Aye, you two!!

(The lord and lady stop to look at Jack.)

Jack: Shut the bloody hell up and get yer arses over here!

Lord Flugtag: (looking at the horizon) Is that Uncyclopedian Island?

Jack: Aye, ye're all headin there, yea? Gotta wait fer the old judge and the rich bastard, I 'spose.

(In the meantime, the travelers can be seen introducing one another and chatting.)

Lady Flugtag: I wonder what this whole business is about...We just got a letter telling us there was a fabulous party...

Dizzario: I got a letter, too-a! It-a said-a there'd be-a donuts! With chocolate glaze...

(Just when everyone gives assent to receiving letters, another car pulls up, a Confederate flag drawn on the roof. The horn blares the Dixie honk, and out comes Justice Dmitrius Codeineborg. He walks down to the crowd.)

Codeineborg: Justice Dmitrius Codeineborg. Pleased to meet you all...

(Dizzario runs up to Codeineborg and hugs him unassumingly.)

Codeineborg: ...Except you, son. You're just plain queer. That stain...is that --

Dizzario: Yes, donut glaze!

Codeineborg: (relieved) Thank god. (addressing Dr. Haille). Say, Doctor, you've got a donut stain on your pants, too.

Haille: (looks down) Oh...oh yes, a donut stain, that's what it is... (looks nervous)

Jack: Well, let's go. The rich bastard'll arrive later.

Scene 8

(Scene opens on Uncyclopedian Island. It is a rocky land, with a stone flight of stairs leading to a large house above on the hill. The boat has just arrived, the passengers are departing, and One-Eyed Jack is getting ready to head back to the mainland.)

Jack: Argh, you take care now. This is a queer island...

Lego: Wait, where is the owner of the island?

Jack: Tis not my problem. Might've buggered off for all I know.

(Jack revs up the engine and goes back to the mainland.)

Lord Flugtag: Well, nice place.

Lady Flugtag: (mutters) Better than our dump...

Lord Flugtag: What's that supposed to mean? You trying to say I'm a failure?

Lady Flugtag: No, not at all. I love living on food stamps and taking a dump in a hole.

Lord Flugtag: Listen, you, I've worked all my life to provide for this family and I'll not have --

Lady Flugtag: If by "work" you mean whore yourself off to opium-addicted Chinese business men, then yes, you have.

Lord Flugtag: I'll have you know, that part of my life is over, and I'd be --

Lego: (interrupting) Excuse me, but I thought you said you two were artistocrats.

Lady Flugtag: (nervous) Um, oh yes, we are very rich. That's just a little joke we play on one another. Hehe...

Lord Flugtag: (laughs nervously)

(A whooshing sound is heard. A jet plane alights on the island, and the door opens. Baron Phillip Zombard can be seen walking down the steps, wearing a tweed suit and carrying a walking stick made of gold-plated money. He rubs his hand on the stick and takes a relished lick from it.)

Zombard: Mmm, money... (addressing the crowd) Oh, hello, people! My luggage is in the back of the plane, I'll expect my money-bath ready at 6:30 promptly. My, what a motley crew; where, pray tell, are your uniforms?

Propenström: We are not servants, we are the owner's guests!

(Dizzario immediately rushes off to get the baron's luggage.)

Propenström: Except that chap, but he's queer enough as it is.

Zombard: Oh my...so you are guests...Jeffrey!

(Zombard's servant Jeffrey pokes his head out of the door of the plane)

Servant: Yessir?

Zombard: My arse is sweating profusely from all these commoners. Wipe it clean, Jeffrey, you know that.

Servant: Yes, sir.

(Jeffrey pulls down Zombard's pants and wipes his arse with a damp cloth. People stare.)

Zombard: I dare say, do you like it Jeffrey? Do you like wiping my arse? I hope you do.

Servant: Yes, sir. I like wiping your arse.

Zombard: Yes, of course you do. At a boy, now bugger off.

Servant: Yes, sir.

(Jeffrey returns to the plane. As it is taking off, a loud bang is heard from within, and Jeffrey's brains can be seen splattered on the window.)

Lady Flugtag: OH MY GOD!

Gruewall: The man just killed himself!

Zombard: Oh my, that he did... (sighs) I lose so many servants that way...

(After an awkward silence, Zombard leads the way to the house. Outside the double doors stands MISS CERRY DUWYN in her French maid outfit.)

DuWyn: Bonjour! (holds door open) My name is Cerry DuWyn, and welcome to Château Uncyclopedia.

Codeineborg: Ah, lovely, knew there'd be hookers. (places hundred pound note firmly between DuWyn's breasts) Be at my room by nine, I'll be at my bath.

DuWyn: But monsieur, I am a maid!

Codeineborg: Yes, I know, very cute. (places another 50 pound note between breasts) Wear that dress, eh?

Act II

Scene 1

(The guests are inside the house. It is a clean, modern residence, two stories. Cerry DuWyn is showing the guests to their rooms.)

DuWyn: (addressing Gruewall) Your room is le far right on le second floor, monsieur.

(Dizzario is seen sprinting down the stairs)

Dizzario: Wao, what a big-a house! But there are only eight rooms!

DuWyn: Yes, le Lord and Lady stay in le master bedroom, and I live in le renovated attic.

Dizzario: So where do I-a stay-a?

DuWyn: You can share wiz one of le guests, or you can sleep in le laundry room.

Dizzario: (turns to the crowd) Can I-a share a room with-a any of you?

(No one gives assent.)

Dizzario: Mama mia...to the-a laundry room, it is-a...

Scene 2

(Scene opens in van der Lego's bedroom. The wind is strong outside, the curtains rustle omniously, the night is falling dark upon the quiet island. von der Lego paces about the room, inspecting it critically.)

Lego: Quite nice, yes...Hmm? What's this?

(Spies a dated computer sitting on the desk opposite the bed. The screen is on and something is written on Microsoft Word.)

Lego: My, it's the poem from when I was a little boy. Wonder who was copying it...)

(Reads poem aloud)

Ten little Uncyclopedians going out for wine;

One overdid it and then there were nine.

Nine little Uncyclopedians had a debate;

One got fed up and then there were eight.

Eight little Uncyclopedians slicing up lemons;

One sliced himself and then there were seven.

Seven little Uncyclopedians up to old tricks;

One didn't know when to stop, and then there were six.

Six little Uncyclopedians took a big dive;

The sea drowned one and then there were five.

Five little Uncyclopedians going to war;

One got shot and then there were four;

Four little Uncyclopedians playing with their Wii's;

One got pwnd and then there were three.

Three little Uncyclopedians looking for grues;

A grue found one and then there were two.

Two little Uncyclopedians baking buns;

One baked himself and then there was one.

One little Uncyclopedian stranded all alone;

He went and deleted himself and then there were none.

Lego: Hmm...

(Cliché oriental gong sounds downstairs.)

Lego: Ah, time for supper.

(Leaves room and heads downstairs. The computer screen flickers for a moment, then suddenly goes black.)

Scene 3

(It is dinnertime. As Cerry DuWyn takes orders, the guests eat greedily. Dizzario eats scraps on the floor.)

Lady Flugtag: How adorable, look at the centerpiece. Ten little avatars, just like us.

(And indeed, there are ten little china figures on the center of the table.)

Lord Flugtag: Seems remarkably childish to me...

Lady Flugtag: (sardonically) Oh you would think that, wouldn't you?

(Lord Flugtag stares at his wife bitterly but says nothing.)

Zombard: Well, I'm thoroughly stuffed. (adjusts notch on belt and pats belly)

Haille: Me, too. (takes another bite of food) Now I'm stuffed. (takes another bite of food. And another.)

Lord Flugtag: I thought you said you were stuffed, too.

Haille: (takes another bite) Oh yes. (and another) It's my obsessive-compulsive disorder. (takes one more small bite of food)

Lady Flugtag: Fluffavarius, how many times have I told you, don't pry!

Lord Flugtag: Woman, I will pry as I wish! I was merely inquiring as to --

Lady Flugtag: I don't rather care. It's rude --

Lord Flugtag: Why do I bother speaking to you?

Lady Flugtag: You don't! When was the last time you --

Propenström: Ah, shut your traps already, both of you!

Codeineborg: What got up your arse?

Propenström: Au contraire, I am a proctologist. It is my job to get up in people's arses.

Lego: Well, what the bloody hell drove you to get into that?!

Propenström: I've always had an affinity for people's rears. That, and medieval torture devices.

Codeineborg: I could see how those two might be related.

Propenström: Yes, these are some of my favorites. (takes out a small, spikey ball from his pocket) Put one of these in someone's arse, pull the crank, (pulls crank on ball; spikes extend with great force) and you could literally tear that chap a new arsehole.

Gruewall: (stares at Propenström) Alright, I'm done eating. (gets up from table and leaves room) I'll be in the drawing room if anyone needs me.

Codeineborg: Yes, I rather say I've lost my appetite.

(Dr. Haille continues taking bites of food.)

Haille: Done!! (gets up and follows Gruewall)

Scene 4

(The guests are in the drawing room. Ms. DuWyn is serving drinks and the guests are chattin' it up.)

Codeineborg: Did anyone else get the letter telling them this was some "job". Wonder what it could be...and where is the owner?

DuWyn: Le master of le house will be arriving soon. It is what he told me.

Codeineborg: What is this chap's name?

DuWyn: I do not know, I have not met him. I was simply hired here by a man named Goldstein. Karlkun Goldstein. Said the owner was his client.

Lego: My letter was from a Karlkun Goldstein, too!

Everyone else: Mine, too.

(Suddenly, a loud, piercing voice interrupts the exchange. It is a godly voice, transcending and rich in tone.)

Mysterious Voice: Ladies and gentlemen! Silence, please.

Zombard: Ey, what's all this then?

Mysterious Voice: You are charge with the following indictments:

Ludig-Janssen van der Lego, that on the 5th of Novermber, 2006, you were responsible for the permament blocking of one User:Nefarious_Juju-Bean.

Draklor Maurice Haille, that upon the 14th of March, 2006, you did ban a user by the name of Funnybunny62 without appropriate justification.

Fluffavarious and Katherine Tabitha von Flugtag, that on one stormy night in October 2005, you aided the banning of one terribly-named yet innocent Jason Hollamayo.

Highmoore Gruewall, that upon the 11th day of August, 2006, your actions led to the permanent blocking of User:SillyPinkBat and subsequently, all his contributions.

Cerry Claudette DuWyn, that in February of 2006, you were responsible for the banning of one User:FarnieBarney.

Dmitrius Isaiah Codeineborg, that upon January 4th, 2003, you banned a user by the name of ArsePhantom94.

Phillip Zombard, that upon the course of a week in December, 2006, you caused the permament blocking of twenty-one innocent Wikipedians from Wikipedia, Wikia, and Uncyclopedia.

Mario Tonito Giovanni Dizzario, that upon the date of November 14th, 2005, you framed and were subsequently responsible for the banning of an IP, 204.345.46.789.

Oliver Propenström, that on the 6th of May, 2004, you banned one User:Xhfjska, whom you had no proper reason for blocking.

Mysterious Voice: Prisoners, have you anything to say in your defence?

(Suspended, incredulous silence)

Zombard: (angry) What the bloody hell was that?

Lady Flugtag: (hands trembling) Who was that voice?

Gruewall: (nervous) Someone playing a cruel practical joke!

Lord Flugtag: But we're the only ones here!

(Spying something, Count van der Lego makes a move toward a door on the far side of the room. He turns the handle and opens the door.)

Lego: Aha! We have our culprit!

(Everyone moves to see what Lego found. Inside, the shadowed figure of a hunched person can be seen in the corner of the room, which happens to be a closet of some sort. The figure is indistinguishable, but nontheless there.)

Lego: Ey, you, come outta there!

(The figure turns, showing its face.)

Haille: Dear God, what is that thing?! (takes random swig from his flask)

Lady Flugtag: It's hideous!

Propenström: I work with people's arses...I have seen some pretty disturbing things, but nothing like this...

(The creature emerges from the door. It is a hairy beast, ape-like in every way except for the feline ears and tail, and the sound emanating from its mouth.)

Apecat: Meow.

DuWyn: Apecat!

(DuWyn stoops down and holds her arms out to Apecat, who quickly climbs up. DuWyn holds Apecat.)

Lego: You know that thing?

DuWyn: Oui, Apecat is my best friend.

(Apecat snuggles DuWyn. Everyone looks on with distaste.)

Haille: Did you hear what your best friend just said?

Lord Flugtag: Don't be absurd; look, there's a boom-box in there. He - er, it must have turned it on.

Lady Flugtag: Nonsense, look at that animal. It's wearing a diaper for God's sake.

Lord Flugtag: Your mother wears a diaper. I'm pretty sure she's capable of turning on a stereo.

Lady Flugtag: You be quiet! No wonder my mother doesn't like you.

Lord Flugtag: She doesn't like me because she's a cantankerous old cun--

Codeineborg: Can we get back to the business at hand? That...thing was in the room with the stereo. Turn it back on.

(van der Lego presses play on boom-box, then fast forward. After about five minutes, the same eerie message plays back.)

Codeineborg: So, someone definitely used the boom-box...

Propenström: And they must have pressed Play five minutes before any of us got here...

Gruewall: So why was the animal in there?

DuWyn: Apecat loves dark places.

Codeineborg: (skeptical) How convenient...

Lego: Look in the room, he's got a nest and everything.

(And indeed, in the corner of the dark room, there is a pile of sticks and cloth in the curious assortment of a nest.)

Codeineborg: I suppose you were right...(muttering) it is such a coincidence, though...

Dizzario: (excitedly addressing DuWyn) Can I-a play-a with Apecat?

(Cerry DuWyn looks at Dizzario hesitantly before handing him custody of Apecat. The creature immediately begins to wail. DuWyn takes it back.)

Dizzario: Bye, little Apecat!

Apecat: (hiss)...

Gruewall: If we may proceed (looks contemptuously at Dizzario.) ...What were those accusations all about, anyhow?

Zombard: They were all lies!

Codeineborg: I had a perfect reason for banning that ArsePhantom94!

Haille: Come again...You mean, that was true?

(All eyes turn to Codeineborg.)

Codeineborg: Well, yes...you see, this Arse Phantom guy wouldn't stop annoying people on the forums. Spam, spam, spam, and instigating all sorts of flamewars. It was exceedingly obnoxious; so I banned him. Seems fair enough.

Lord Flugtag: Except I spoke to ArsePhantom94 afterwards. He swore that was his mischievous roommate who did that on that fateful date. Looks like you banned him for something he didn't do.

Codeineborg: Oh my, well...I didn't know that. Still, makes no difference! He should have been more careful!

Gruewall: I, too, have a confession. About this User:SillyPinkBat...I did cause his banning. And made the admins delete all his work.

Haille: What did he do?

Gruewall: (sighs) I was very frustrated that day, and I took my anger out on him. He was being a nuisance, though! Spamming the forums just like ArsePhantom94. And so, I logged in as a doppelgänger and replaced all his articles with similar spam, making it look as though he did it. One of the admins bought it, a newbie, and got him blocked permanently. And I'd do it again!

Dizzario: That-a boomy-boxy was-a right about-a me, too. I was using a friend of mine's computer, and forgot to log in. I edited my userpage-a as an IP-a, and they-a thought it was vandalism. So they blocked the IP, and my friend could not log in anymore. He was a very notable-a user...

Propenström: You have friends?

Dizzario: Did I say "friend"? Oh no no no no, I meant "random stranger whose house I walked into pretending to be a plumber and then used his computer without permission while he was away." Yes, friend.

Haille: Well, I say screw it all. Let's have some fun.

Codeineborg: Yes, let's all throw a sexy party!

Zombard: I must rather say, I like those...

Codeineborg: Sexy party it is!

Haille: (holds up glass) A toast, to sexy parties!

(Haille chugs wine recklessly. Take another drink. And another. And pretty soon, another. Haille begins staggering around the room like a drunk.)

Lego: Good lord, are you alright, man?

Haille: I'm seh...wast'd!

Dizzario: Hey me too, buddy. (puts arm around Haille)

(Haille shoves Dizzario.)

Haille: 'Ey, get yer bloo'y paws offa me!

(Reeling from the force of the shove, Haille staggers back, stumbling on his own feet. Suddenly, he takes a step and trips backwards over a surreptitiously placed throw pillow, falling out a nearby window. The curtains flitter gently as Haille's body crashes into the rocks below.)

(People scream.)

Lord Flugtag: Oh my God, is he dead?!

Lady Flugtag: No shit, Sherlock, he just fell off a two-story window.

Lord Flugtag: You know what, you can cut it with the sarcasm already. I'm sick and tired of--

Lady Flugtag: Uh, yeah, not gonna happen!

Propenström: (rubs his temples) I swear to living God, if you don't both shut your mouths this instant, I will push you out that window this moment.

Lego: Push, eh? I wonder...

Codeineborg: You think someone pushed him? He practically pushed himself. Come on, it was an accident.

(Everyone leaves room. van der Lego is last to go.)

Lego: Yes, I suppose he's right. Got a little ahead of myself that time.

(As van der Lego leaves, light in the drawing room fades away. Focus shifts to the adjacent dining room, where Cerry DuWyn is clearing the table.)

DuWyn: How strange...(looks at centerpiece) I thought there were nine avatars on le table last time...