NO ONE'S POV:
(Sirens wail in the background as we see the trio still in the store.)
Hughie: So, you're-you're not Feds?
Butcher: Do you hear that? That's the old bill. So unless you want to explain why you've got America's favorite invisible wanker dead on the floor, join us in the fucking car.
(Y/N): Or don't. Your choice.
Hughie: Aw, shit.
(Cut to the trio in the car with Butcher driving.)
Butcher: All right, listen, I have worked for the Feds. I've worked for loads of people. I'm what you might call an independent contractor. You got a problem, you call me, I solve the problem.
(Y/N): I'm here for a crack at Homelander. That's it.
(There's pounding coming from the trunk causing the three to turn back.)
Hughie: What is that?
Butcher: That's a problem.
(Y/N): Yeah.
Hughie: Oh, thank fuck, he's alive. Yes, yes, he's alive! Okay, pull over.
Butcher: No, no, no, Hughie, you don't fucking get it.
Hughie: Pull the car over.
Butcher: This is a fucksight worse. He's seen our faces.
(Y/N): Not mine but I won't leave you guys.
Butcher: That really makes me feel better, (Y/N).
Hughie: Oh, my God. No, no, no. I can't do this. I can't do this. Let me out. Let me out. Pull over!
Butcher: Hughie, you walk away now, and you will never get payback for Robin. You'll spend the rest of your life sitting on your ass with fucking regret. Now, is that what you want? I know a bloke. Top man. He'll know what to do.
(Cut to them at this top bloke's place where a woman opens the door & she touches Hughie & Y/N's faces before letting them inside.)
Butcher: You'll both love this guy. Frenchie. Oi, Frenchie.
Frenchie: Monsieur Charcuter. Huh. This is a surprise. Good to see you.
Butcher: Good to see you, too, mate.
Frenchie: Means you brought that 40,000 you owe me? [sniffs] I mean, why else would you show your face around here?
Butcher: Because I've got something even better for you. How would you like to double your money?
(They both laugh.)
Frenchie: The double of zero is zero. Who are they?
Butcher: These guys? Oh, this here is Hughie Campbell and (Y/N) Batson. We're, uh, working a little job together.
Hughie: *waves*
(Y/N): Yo.
Frenchie: And they're still alive?
Butcher: [laughs] You and I worked together, and you're still in one piece.
Frenchie: Am I?
Butcher: Look, do you want to know what the fucking job is or not.
(Cut to the four of them in front of the truck of Butcher's car.)
Butcher: Open it.
Frenchie: Who is in there?
Butcher: Where's your sense of adventure, Frenchie? But first, (Y/N)?
(Y/N): Huh? Right, right...SHAZAM!
(Lightning strikes down onto Y/N transforming him into Shazam.)
Frenchie: What the fuck?!
Shazam: So, Cliff Notes; Name's Shazam, I'm a Supe but a good one if that makes sense, and...yeah, that's it.
Frenchie: All right. I'm gonna open the trunk now.
(Imagine Y/N as Shazam in between Butcher & Frenchie.)
Translucent: You dumb fucks are fucking dead!
Shazam: Excuse me.
(He places his hands on Translucent &...)
*SHOCKS*
(Shocks him.)
Translucent: Aah!
Frenchie: That's Translucent.
(Butcher closes the trunk.)
Frenchie: You got Translucent in your trunk, huh.
Butcher: Nothing gets past you, mate.
(Frenchie aims a gun up to Butcher's shoulder.)
Hughie: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!
Frenchie: Go away. Get him out of here.
Butcher: All right, all right, easy.
Frenchie: He's chipped. So is your Supe pal.
Shazam: I can assure you I am not chipped.
Frenchie: The Supes could be on their way. Homelander could be on his way right now.
Hughie: Wait, he's chipped?
Frenchie: You bring this to my doorstep? This is not my problem, huh?
Butcher: Well, it is now. He knows what you look like. Look, Frenchie, I need your help, mate, and I ain't leaving till I get it, or till The Seven show up.
(Frenchie lowers his gun.)
Tony Cicero's
(We see the four of them finishing up the room holding Translucent.)
Frenchie: That stuff really blocks the chip's signal?
Hughie: Yeah. It's just R.F. Shielding Foil. You can get it at Fry's.
Frenchie: You in tech intelligence?
Hughie: Uh, sales and installation.
Frenchie: And you, Batson, what's your hero name again? Captain Mar-
(Y/N): S-h-a-z-a-m.
Frenchie: Shazam?
(Y/N): Bingo. Didn't want to say it unless you want a hole in the roof.
Frenchie: Say that word and poof? You're all big and muscley?
(Y/N): Nothing does get past you, Frenchie.
Translucent: Ah...Oh, what the fuck? Where am I?
Butcher: Oi. Morning, sunshine.
Translucent: You know who I am?
Frenchie: Not sure. I know so many invisible assholes.
Translucent: You fucking amateurs!
(He touches the cage he's in & it shocks him.)
Translucent: Fuck! What the fuck?!
Butcher: Ooh, mind them bars, son. You'll only bollocks yourself again.
Translucent: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Uh, okay, what do you guys want? Money?
Butcher: We don't want your fucking money.
(They leave the room.)
Butcher: What do you think, Frenchie?
Frenchie: You just dropped the Moby fucking Dick of problems on my plate. That's what I think. Okay? He can re-order his carbon on his skin into metamaterial. [sighs] It's hard as diamonds. It's nearly impossible to penetrate.
Butcher: All right, how 'bout we suffocate him?
Frenchie: Some Dominicans already tried this, way back in '07.
Butcher: And what happened?
Frenchie: They're all fucking dead now. That's what happened.
Butcher: All right, then, fuck it, electrocution. We'll just increase the amps.
Frenchie: You already hit him with enough to drop a water buffalo, and look. Might knock him out. Doesn't seem to kill him, huh.
(Y/N): I could strike him with some lightning bolts. Over and over and over again.
Frenchie: And how long would it take?
(Y/N): Don't know.
Frenchie: Too long. No. We need a way to pierce the skin somehow.
Butcher: Well, how the hell are we gonna do that?
Frenchie: I don't know.
Hughie: You're gonna kill him.
Butcher: [scoffs] We didn't bring him here for a fucking Happy Meal.
Hughie: I don't--I thought we'd question him or something. I don't know, you get a--you get ahold of someone this big...
Butcher: At Gitmo, we had to water board Khalid Sheikh Mohammed 183 times over six months to get him to talk just once. Now, we ain't got six months. I doubt we even got six hours.
Hughie: There are so many crazy things about what you just said, but right now, you're talking about randomly killing one of the most famous men on the planet. A goddamn national treasure. I mean...people tend to notice that kind of thing.
Butcher: And if we let him go...what do you think The Seven will do to us? Hmm?
Hughie: [sighs]
Butcher: You can't get A-Train if you're a greasy smear on the pavement.
Hughie: I'm not a murderer.
Butcher: [scoffs] That's all right. I am.
(Cut to Butcher & Y/N watching Frenchie making rounds. Rounds coated in...)
Frenchie: The same carbon metamaterial as his skin. [scoffs]
Butcher: Will it work?
Frenchie: Je ne sais pas.
(Y/N): Fingers crossed.
(Butcher loads the bullet.)
Hughie: Guys. What are you doing? Wait! No, no, no! Wait, wait!
Translucent: [laughs] You stupid, fucking asshole. I'm invincible. You stupid motherfuckers. [laughs] I'm fucking Transclucent.
(Frenchie closes the door.)
Translucent: I'm indestructible. It's only a matter of time before they come for me. You're fucking dead!
(The camera pans up to see that some of the foil on the roof is torn.)
Hughie: Well, that was great, guys. That was awesome.
Butcher: Frenchie, back later.
Frenchie: Where are you going?
Butcher: Got an idea. Long shot, might help.
Hughie: Now?
Butcher: Yeah, well, it's all under control here, isn't it.
(Y/N): Yeah?
Butcher: Try not to bugger each other.
(Hours later, we see Frenchie walking out of the room holding Translucent with a saw.)
Frenchie: Fucking diamond skin. Merde!
(Y/N): Why don't I just beat him to death? I have the power of Zeus.
Frenchie: Are you serious right now?
(Y/N): Completely.
Frenchie: [laughs dryly]
(Y/N): I say something funny?
(He walks over to Hughie & offers him a pill.)
(Y/N): What the fuck?
Frenchie: Here, take it.
Hughie: What is that?
Frenchie: It will help with your, uh, anxiety. It's LSD and MDMA. This is a candy flip. It'll smooth you right out. Take it.
Hughie: Uh, thank you, but I-I don't think now is the time for a major hallucinogen.
(Frenchie takes the pill.)
Frenchie: Fais-toi plaisir.
Hughie: What are you exactly? Chemist? Engineer? What?
Frenchie: No. I know a little about a lot of things. I'm a gunrunner by trade, but, uh, as you can see, I've developed a certain niche.
Hughie: Killing superheroes.
Frenchie: No. You can count on one hand the number of dead superheroes. Sometimes you can, uh, incapacitate them. Truly, they are magnificent creatures. Mm. Each one with a unique power that requires a unique solution. It's uh...it's never the same twice.
Hughie: Who pays you to do that?
Frenchie: Whoever can pay.
(He goes on to tell Hughie that the people he's killed, he carries them with him like scars.)
Hughie: Got anything to add to that?
(Y/N): A hero's say on the matter?
Hughie: Yeah.
(Y/N): It, uh...it never gets easier.
The Next Day
(Frenchie knows a way to kill Translucent thanks to a tortoise documentary. And Homelander...)
(Is on his way to find Translucent. Cut back to the quartet.)
Translucent: What the...? Something doesn't feel right.
Butcher: Oh, I'll bet.
Frenchie: I'm not ashamed to admit I have outdone myself. Now, the problem is the skin, no? It's, uh, hard like diamonds. But then I realized, it is just your shell that is hard, huh? Like a turtle. But your insides...they're like the rest of ours...soft. So, how do you get to the...squishy insides? Through the mouth? Non. The stomach acid, the gag reflex. If I stick something down your throat, you may vomit it up. [clicks tongue] There's truly only one way...
Translucent: The fuck did you to me?
Butcher: He stuck a lump of plastique up your bum, son.
Frenchie: Ass bomb.
(Y/N): Hilarious.
Translucent: Oh, my God.
(Homelander's flying his way over to them.)
Butcher: Now...you try a little finger up there and try and fish it out--bang. I trigger this--also bang.
(He shows him the detonator.)
Butcher: Savvy.
Translucent: [crying] Oh, please don't kill me. I'll do anything. [stammering] I'll tell you about A-Train. That's what the kid wants, right? I-I-I-I don't know where A-Train was going that night he killed the girl, okay, but I know where he was coming from.
Hughie: What? Where?
Translucent: Popclaw's. He fucking...loves her. He doesn't think anyone else knows, but I know. I know a lot of things.
(Frenchie leaves the room.)
Translucent: But he-he's there every night. Maybe...now, even.
Hughie: Popclaw? That's the hero with the...sharp things coming out of her arms.
Butcher: Yeah. Real D-lister.
(Y/N): At least she's on a list.
Translucent: Anyone knows what A-Train was doing, it's Popclaw. But that's all I know about that, I swear to Christ. But I'll tell you anything else you want. Just ask.
(They all leave the room.)
Frenchie: Butcher! A moment, s'il vous plaît.
(They all look at security camera footage of a hero flying across the screens.)
Butcher: Homelander.
Hughie: That's Homelander? Homelander's here? Oh, shit. Oh, shit! [exhales] He could see us. He's got X-ray vision. He can see through the fucking roof.
Frenchie: And super fucking hearing. You pull that detonator, he will hear.
(Translucent's able to read Hughie's lips that say "Homelander.")
Butcher: We got to throw him off the scent.
(Y/N): Okay, Butcher, I want to thank you for everything. It has been...something. But you got me Homelander. Woo!
(Y/N's about to walk outside but Frenchie stops him.)
Frenchie: You honestly think you can kill Homelander?
(Y/N): I know I can. Now, if you'll excuse me...
Butcher: Not yet.
(Y/N): The fuck do you mean "not yet?" That's the only reason why I'm here.
Butcher: I know that but things change. We may need you later on. Besides, you can fight Homelander some other time. He's not going anywhere. You'll get your rumble eventually.
(Y/N): [groans] You're lucky I'm a patient man.
Hughie: Okay, if (Y/N)'s not fighting him then what?
Butcher: Pittsburgh.
Frenchie: Oh, you can not be serious, huh?
Butcher: Deadly.
Frenchie: You know how much this will cost me?
Butcher: Put it on the tab. (Y/N), come on. This doesn't work, you may get your wish.
(Y/N): Here's hoping then.
(Butcher, Y/N, & Frenchie leave Hughie with the detonator.)
Hughie: Guys?!
(Cut to them in a van while Butcher is setting something up & Frenchie calls Cherie & tells her it's a burn.)
Frenchie: Come on.
Butcher: Frenchie, I'm getting shit reception here.
Frenchie: Well, figure it the fuck out, huh?
(Y/N): *pops fingers*
(While this is happening, Translucent escapes from his cage by pouring...a liquid on the wires stopping the cage's shock. We see Frenchie roll down his window for Homelander with Y/N next to him in the passenger seat.)
Homelander: Evening.
Frenchie: Holy shit. You're the Homelander. Can you believe it?
(Y/N): No I can not.
Frenchie: We're talking to the Homelander.
Homelander: Mm. Sir, I need to see some ID.
(Translucent & Hughie have a standoff.)
Homelander: What are you doing out here?
Frenchie: This is our place. My brother and I.
Homelander: I don't see the resemblance.
(Y/N): I'm adopted.
Frenchie: We're opening a Fogo de Chao. You know what a churrascaria is?
Homelander: Yeah. It's a Brazilian steakhouse. Sir, I need to see in the back of the van.
Frenchie: No offense, you got a...warrant or something?
Homelander: Well, if you got nothing back there, then you got nothing to worry about, right?
Frenchie: [chuckles]
(Y/N's about to exit the car but Frenchie stops him.)
Frenchie: I can unlock it from here.
(Y/N): Of course.
(Homelander looks at the van as Butcher looks from behind a dumpster. Cherie completes the burn causing Homelander to fly away.)
(Y/N): I could've taken him.
Frenchie: You are couillu.
(Back with Translucent & Hughie.)
Translucent: Look, you let me go...you'll be the hero that saved Translucent. It's not too late. You can still go home. Back to your life.
(Hughie loosens his grip on the detonator.)
Translucent: Attaboy.
(He walks by Hughie but something snaps with him leading to...)