The One With The Two Heads: Video

[twoheadsofcabbage]

[There's a man on screen. A scruffy-looking man who's recently been in a fight. His lip is split and bleeding, and there's a chunk of hair missing from one side of his head. He stares into the camera with unfocused eyes. His jaw works silently for a moment. Eventually he slurs:]

Did anybody...catch the plate on that Arquillian cru-...

[His eyes roll back in his head and he drops like a ton of bricks. The communicator lands with a clatter, camera still focused on the man's face. And then another voice pipes up. It is, in fact, the same voice.]

Oh, you did not just pass out. Scrad? Scra-ad!

[No one named Scrad responds. The man on the floor remains still. His eyes are closed. His mouth has not moved. It continues not to move as his disembodied voice quips:]

Annnnnnnnnd the champ! Is! Down!

Comments

[most_feared]

The bathroom's not there. Because you're dead.

[Because that's where bathrooms go when you die. You go to a hell without bathrooms.]

Let's try this again. Scrad, Charlie. You are on an interdimensional prison ship known as the Barge to be rehabilitated. You can not leave. You can not die again. You will be assigned a warden who will receive a copy of a file about your life to assist in your rehabilitation. If you are successfully rehabilitated, you will be returned to life, presumably somewhere far away from Earth [because he's still surprised he's here] away from the situation that caused your death.

Check the door and see what floor you're on. Infirmary's on the second.

[twoheadsofcabbage]

[Charlie twists around and eyes the door as Scrad asks:]

When did you guys get an interdimensional prison ship?

[most_feared]

We haven't. I'm taking some time off to work elsewhere.

[Oh hell no, he is not going to be mentioning that he has a significant other that he's here saving their planet for. Who will buy that information? Everyone. And he can't trust that somehow some communications failure will happen again and they'd have the opportunity.]

[twoheadsofcabbage]

[Charlie snickers.]

Couldn't hack it at the post office?

[Scrad doesn't seem to agree with his second head re: that at all being funny, but it's possible he just doesn't get it.]

If this isn't you guys' jurisdiction, then which thing are we in for? 'Cause whatever we did: we didn't do it.

[most_feared]

[More line-face, because he didn't think the post office was that bad. He kind of liked it there. Just likes his job more. And podunk is dull.]

Don't know why you're here. That'll be in your file. We don't get to see whatever ruling drops you here.

[twoheadsofcabbage]

[Charlie muses:]

It was probably the nude drunken driving.

[Scrad shoots him a dirty look for incriminating themself in front of The Man.]

[most_feared]

[Kay just... looks at him. And then there's the sound of him drumming his fingers off screen. Still staring.]

[twoheadsofcabbage]

[Scrad stares back.]

What?

[Charlie has gotten distracted by all that empty fourth floor hallway.]

It got hot in that shuttle. ...and drunk.

[most_feared]

Pretty sure that's not why you're here but uh... you'll figure it out, I'm sure.

[twoheadsofcabbage]

[Were you expecting them to laugh, K? Because they both do: a forced, theatrical laugh to which Charlie even adds:]

Good one. You. Always with the funny.

Most profound reply ever is go.

[most_feared]

[More staring.]

What, you expected them to think you were being serious about them figuring something out?

[twoheadsofcabbage]

[Their laughter slowly and awkwardly dies, to which Charlie even adds:]

And then the disturbing silence.

[Is it nice to live up to your username?]

Not at all. Kay just has lol disfunction.

[most_feared]

[He will just keep staring at Scrad until the other guy cuts the feed, if he does so. And then will check with the infirmary to make sure he goes there. Even though he doesn't seem any more out of his mind than usual.]

Poor, poor Kay.

[twoheadsofcabbage]

[That's going to take a while. They don't take hints well. They don't do them on their planet.]

Uh. What?

[Also, they so are not going to that infirmary.]

[most_feared]

[Well, you know what then? He might as well tell him.] She's dead, by the way. Sarleena. And she's not here.

[Thank god.]

[twoheadsofcabbage]

[it's Charlie who thinks to ask:]

All of her?

[She is made up of a lot of little squirmy things...]

[most_feared]

Yeah. I got every last bit of her.

[twoheadsofcabbage]

So that saves us from having to fax her our resignation.

[Scrad remains silent.]