Right, Edgar, thanks for coming in. Now, you, brilliant writer, us, great studio, together,
I'm seeing fireworks, OK? Sounds great. Yeah, good. A couple of questions just to, you know,
satisfy if you hire up in the chain. If you weren't missing kidnap something like that,
would anybody notice you were missing?
Uh, probably not anymore.
Well, in that case, I'll go and get the contract. I think I'm going to go get the contracts,
and sign it. Let's get this magic happening, all right? Good morning, sunshine. Hey. Hey. I have to looking everywhere for that.
Awesome. I thought you were gone. Yeah, I'm getting ready to go. See you later, OK? Yeah. Bye.
Edgar, yes? Get in the car. No.
Do you want to tell me what's going on? Hmm? Oh, you've been drugged and we're sharing an hallucination.
Let me guess. Gordram, interview, writing position, a couple of smug little...
How could you possibly know that? Because that's how it always starts, man. They slipped you something.
Before you know it, you're in a drug induced state living out your own spirit, in a state of comatose called nonsense.
I'm pretty sure that's not a word. Pretty sure it is a word.
I don't think it's actually a word, though. How's that for a word?
Oh, my God. I killed a guy. You killed a zombie. I've killed guys.
But what you're not understanding is that these stories that we're in, we can control them, OK?
I have no idea what you're talking about. Well, then let me explain it to you. Well!
They're missing the story of an evil corporation who were fucking the last writers without that cooperation to produce the same old scripts and keep their dire operation in the green.
So nothing that surrounds you is what you might in reality. You're stuck inside your script of the same old ballroom and not in the office, not to the studio.
Goodbye, the chemist Jeremy. What a cut. To break from this detention. You must stray from convention.
To have fun. Expectation.
If we keep breaking convention, they're not going to have any reason to keep us plugged in.
So any of the stories they make you write just turned it on its head.
A little bit. Yes, Mr. Edmund?
There is an important matter I need to discuss with you.
Yes.
No, no, more. More different. More stupid.
25 meters. 20 meters. 15 meters.
And that is the matter of my undying and eternal love for Mr. Edmunds.
10 meters. 5 meters.
Get away from me, you bitch!
We're going to need more ammo.
Can you see me?
Yeah, yeah. This one's hideous.
If we keep screwing with convention, they're not going to want us around anymore.
The horse?
Yes.
How do you know?
The bloody horse can talk.
It's not all that I can do.
Is there a problem?
Scott!
Scott!
Holy shit.
Hey, what are you doing, man? Put the gun down.
The only way to get free of this is to break convention.
And what? You're going to fuck this girl?
And how cliched is that?
What the fuck, Edgar?
We'll be free thinking, do something unexpected, okay?
Otherwise, just be a fucking zombie, do exactly what they expect of you.
I never thought I'd say this.
You're right.
Edgar, what the fuck?
It's me! What the fuck are you doing?
I'm sorry.
Well, that was a fuck-up. How are you going to fix it?
We could always just hire Demoritus.
I know. We'll just hire Demoritus. Now go get me some monkeys.
Monkeys chipped with a zoo.
And children.
Always children at the zoo.
Maybe some old people.
This is a zoo.
This is a zoo.
