Fade in on Doc (O'Malley) standing on an icy precipice.
O'Malley: Hahahahahahahahaha. You fools have fallen right in to my hands. Only now, do you realise the folly of your follies, hahaha. Prepare for an oblivion, for which there is no preparation! (evil laugh)
Simmons: O'Malley! The Reds and Blues are working together now! You can't hope to beat us.
O'Malley: You fool! My metallic friend is the only ally I need. Lopez, activate weather control routines.
Lopez: [Okay.]
Lightning shoots out of Lopez, and he becomes surrounded in what look like spinning mystic runes.
Simmons: Are those runic symbols a sign of some ancient technology?
Doc: No, I used to draw them on my binder during study hall. I always wanted to use them for something. Aren't they cool?
O'Malley: Shut up!
Sarge: Oh, Samson's back hair. They found our secret weapon. I developed a weather control device, but I was missing one critical piece of technology to make it work.
O'Malley: Hahaha yes. And now that I've located those "D" batteries, the Universe will be mine! Hahahahaha!
Tucker: Are you serious? You couldn't find D batteries.
Sarge: Only at gas stations, and they're just so darn expensive there.
Spectator: Guys... Where is 404?
Sarge: Who?
Spectator: (Concerned) Uh, Logan?
Sarge: Oh, you mean Logie? Uh, I don't know.
Spectator: (Worried) Don't tell me...
Church runs up to everyone, still ticking.
Church: What's going on?
Sarge: You want the long version or the short? Basically you've got a fifty megaton bomb in your gut-
Simmons: Ten sir.
Sarge: And Lopez is about to kill us all.
Grif is running up behind Church.
Church: That didn't make any sense, what's the long version?
Tucker: That was the long version. The short version is "we're boned."
Simmons: Hey Grif, are you okay?
Grif: I've done hard time, Simmons. I'm not the man you used to know.
Simmons: Hard time? We were only separated for five hours.
Grif: Time moves slower on the inside, Simmons. It seemed like seven or eight hours to me.
Ren is running beside Spectator.
Ren: Fiuh, finally-
Spectator: (Grabs Ren's shoulder) Ren, this is bad!
Ren: (Startled) What- what is going on?
Spectator: (Frantically) I forgot to tell you. Let's just say Mercury is an A.I that resides inside Logan's head. And that other A.I that I mentioned earlier, the one Mercury is after, is his rival!
Ren: (Worried) And... is that bad?
Spectator: (Scratches his head) Uh, you know, it's a long story.
O'Malley fires a rocket overhead that lands behind them. They scatter.
O'Malley: You foolish fools will never defeat me! You're far too busy being foolish! Ha! Oblivion is at hand!
Simmons: Sarge. I have an idea, but I need you to distract him.
Sarge: Will do! (turns to Grif, who's hiding behind the rock with him... again) Grif? I've never believed in you. Not even for a moment. But now, is your chance to prove yourself. To me.
Grif: What can I do, Sarge?
Sarge: I need you to run right at O'Malley.
Grif: And shank him with my shiv?
Sarge: No. When he blows you up with the rocket, try to see if you can get your dismembered limbs and guts to clog the barrels of his rocket launcher.
Grif: You're kidding.
Sarge: It's a remote chance, I know. But it's worth a shot.
O'Malley: (running up to their cozy little rock) Ahhhhblivion is at hand! (evil laugh)
Doc: Cover your ears, guys. This thing is really loud.
Grif: This is it!
Simmons: Not so fast, O'Malley! Maybe we can't stop you, but I know who can! Specs! Open the teleporter!
Spectator: (Nods) On it.
A teleporter portal appears in the middle of the ground, and the Battle Creek soldiers come pouring out of it.
A Blue Soldier: Alright, new level, yeah!
Blue and Red Soldiers: Whoohoo!
Simmons: Hey guys, you want your flag?
The Battle Creek soldiers all look at Simmons.
Simmons: He's the one that has it!
The Red Zealot: The crusade has begun! Our hour of glory is now at hand! Let all who would stand against us be washed in our divine light!
The Battle Creek soldiers start attacking the hell out of O'Malley.
O'Malley: Get away from me! No! Get out, no! Dow!
Simmons: We need to disarm Church's bomb, Sarge.
Sarge: Right.
Church: (getting hit by lightning from Lopez) Yow, whoohoohoo!
Sarge: Hold still, son, this'll just take a second. (kneels in front of Church)
Church: Don't you ever install anything above the waist?
Sarge: Oh no! That last lightning bolt fused the detonator! There's no way to turn this thing off.
Simmons: Can you do it manually?
Sarge: Impossible. I specifically designed it so that I wouldn't be able to defuse it.
Grif: Why?
Sarge: In case I fell in to the wrong hands, and was brainwashed to help the blues.
Simmons: Nice thinking, sir.
Ren: Maybe...
Grif: You had to get just one last asskiss in before we die, didn't you?
Cut to the Battle Creek soldiers humping the fallen O'Malley.
O'Malley: No nup- that's disgusting, what're you doing?
Blue Soldier: Let me try, let me try.
Red Soldier: Heh heh heh.
Another Red Soldier: Take that dude!
O'Malley: I'm being violated!
Tucker: (pulling out a rocket launcher) Church, there's only one thing I can do.
Church: Hehey, what the hell?
Simmons: There's only twenty seconds left!
Ren: (Interrupting) I'm going back to my actual unit and telling them Logan is already dead. Bla bla...
Spectator: Not so fast.
Tucker: If I blow you up before the bomb goes off, there's at least a small chance the rest of us will live.
Church: But the rocket'll kill me.
Simmons: Ten seconds.
Grif: You're gonna die anyway when the bomb goes off!
Church: What can I tell ya, pal? Misery loves company.
Simmons: Five seconds!
Tucker: Sorry Church.
Church: Man, this blows. You guys suck.
The rocket launcher is shot right out of Tucker's hands.
Tucker: What the hell!?
Ren: Wyoming...
Spectator: (Annoyed) Crap.
Cut to Wyoming on an icy peak.
Wyoming: Sorry Private Tucker, but I always get my man. Say goodbye, mate.
Ren: (Resigned) Yeah, we're going to die.
Spectator: (Frantically) What about Logan?
Simmons: Uh guys, I hate to interrupt, but... zero seconds.
Tucker: Whuh oh.
Church: What? Oh, son of a-
Cut to the ringworld halo exploding in a huge white blast that shoots all the way across space. The screen goes white, and a loud ringing beep is audible, shortly to be replaced by a warbling sound as it fades in to a black and white spiral sort of pattern, with the reds and the blues sans Church floating in front of it.
Simmons: What the...
Sarge: The bomb must have gone off.
Grif: Where are we? Are we dead?
Ren: Why can I still feel my hand?
Caboose: I don't want to be dead! I want to be alive, or, a cowboy.
Donut: Dead, oh man. Tomorrow was all you can eat day at the chow hall. And I wanted to eat all that I could.
The spiral pattern is replaced with a stars pattern, still rotating.
Sarge: We're not dead, idiots. We're stuck in some kind of temporal... whoa no! Heads up boys, prepare for impact!
Screen goes white, then fades in to a shot of the sky with a different targetting reticle.
Tucker: Gnnmnaugh, what happened?
Spectator: Good morning.
Donut emerges in shiny new pink armor that looks different than before.
Donut: Hey, he's awake!
Grif: I still wanna know why I don't get a laser gun.
Simmons: Shut up, dumbass.
Donut: Guys, Tucker's awake.
Simmons: Huh? Hey hey hey, take it easy Tucker, you've been out a while.
Grif: And I thought I was lazy.
Spectator: (Correcting) He was passed out, not being lazy.
Ren: (Agreeing) I know, right?
Spectator: You're just like him..
Tucker: What's going on? Who are you people?
Donut: He has amnesia! Tucker. Don't worry. You are safe. We're the reds, we are your mortal enemies. Wait. That didn't sound right.
Caboose: Tucker! Tucker! I am so glad you are alive.
Tucker: Caboose? Still so dumb, but you look so different.
Caboose: We're in the future! Things are very shiny here.
Tucker: The future? Oh I can't fucking wait to hear this one.
Sarge: Obviously Lopez's weather matrix combined with the power of bomb 21 combined to create an explosion so large, it caused a temporal rift in time, that cascaded throughout the blo-
Tucker: Whoa whoa wait a second, wait a second. I don't understand.
Donut: Sarge! Can we do the skit now?
Caboose: Yeah!
Simmons: Yes.
Grif: I don't wanna do that dumb skit.
Sarge: Fine. But only because I wanna see Grif be miserable. I miss the old days.
Donut: Great! Places everyone!
Everyone scatters off screen expect Spectator and Ren.
Donut: (clears throat) The Red vs Blue players present, a Franklin Donut play. Written and directed by Franklin Donut. In association with Light Red Danish Productions.
Sarge: Can we just start?
Cut to a red curtain on the left, and a blue curtain on the right, that both peel away as if for the theatre.
Donut: And, action!
Simmons: Hello weary traveler, we represent the timeline.
Sarge: I am the past, where things cost less, and people knew the value of a hard day's work. But they only lived to be twenty-eight years old.
Simmons: And I am the future, where people have no morals and no emotions but we have a bunch of kickass gadgets.
Grif: And I'm the present, which sucks. We have nothing cool, and also no morals.
Donut: And I am the helpful narrator. A faceless voice used by poor writers.
Tucker: You have a face... I think.
Donut: Shut up, audience. You're ruining my play. Everything was fine in the timeline, until one day, in the present...
In another planet....
404 (Mercury): Hello there, Celcius.
Celcius: (Laughs) Ah! Mercury, my friend! Long time no see!
404 (Mercury): (Sighs) We're not friends, Celcius.
Celcius: (Chuckling) Of course, we're not friends. How could I forget?
404 (Mercury): Well, well, Celcius. You always did love putting on a show.
Celcius: (Summoning hologram clones) Showtime, Mercury. Let's see if you can handle this.
As Celcius creates multiple hologram clones, each mirroring his every move, the air crackles with anticipation. Mercury channels his fiery powers, flames dancing around him, ready to face the challenge ahead.
404 (Mercury): (Launching streams of fire) You think your tricks can outmatch the power of fire? Think again!
Mercury's flames engulf the area, scorching the ground and threatening to consume the hologram clones. But Celcius proves to be swift and elusive, deftly teleporting from one location to another, avoiding the fiery onslaught.
Celcius: (Taunting) Is that all you've got, Mercury? I expected more from the great pyromancer!
404 (Mercury): (Frustrated) You think you're so clever, don't you? Well, let's see how you handle this!
With a surge of power, Mercury summons a massive wall of fire, attempting to trap Celcius within its blazing embrace. But Celcius, using his teleportation abilities, effortlessly slips through the flames, emerging unscathed.
Celcius: (Smirking) Nice try, Mercury. But you'll have to do better than that.
404 (Mercury): (Slightly breathless) You may be good, but you won't find him. He's hidden too well.
Celcius: (Stepping towards Mercury) Well, then, it seems we have reached an impasse. But I have an idea.
In a sudden, unexpected move, Celcius steps into Mercury's body, their essences merging. Mercury's eyes widen in shock as Celcius takes control.
Celcius: Now, tell me, Mercury, where is he? Or I will make sure this body pays the price.
404 (Mercury): (Defiant) You would kill this person's body for your selfish pursuit?
Celcius: (Coldly) Do I look like I care about collateral damage? Now, speak!
404 (Mercury): (Defiant) I will never.
Celcius: (Smirking) Hah... you're making this hard.
(Celcius hacks into his program, connecting directly to Mercury's helmet.)
Celcius: Hold still, hmmm.
404 (Mercury): (Panicking) What are you doing?!
Celcius: (Mocking) Relax, Mercury. I'm just going to have a little chat with the real person inhabiting this body.
404's visor helmet flickers, switching from red to blue.
Cut to Reds and Blues.
Spectator: What kind of bomb did you just make?
Tucker: You're telling me a bomb sent us in to the future.
Simmons: Yeah, you see luckily Church was facing forward when the bomb went off, and we were standing in front of him? So that sent us forward in to the future.
Tucker: Of course he was facing forward. What other way can people face?
Simmons: You see? That's what I meant by luckily.
Tucker: What happened to Church?
Sarge: Hmm. Never really thought about him.
Simmons: Yeah, weird, I- I guess he's dead.
Sarge: Sounds good to me, let's go with that.
Tucker: He could be hurt, and trapped in the present.
Sarge: That's impossible, son. The present doesn't exist any more. What you're proposing just isn't very good science.
Spectator: Hey, if we're in the future, he could still be there, so it exists. Or... (Turns to Tucker)
Tucker: Yeah.Don't you see? If Church was facing forward during the explosion, and that blew us in to the future, that could mean that he was blown backward in to the... oh no!
Sarge: Backwards in to what? A wall? A broom closet?
Grif: A big rock?
Caboose: Another big rock!
Ren: A small rock?
Tucker & Spectator: No! In to the past!
Cut to Church, in all his sixteen-color goodness.
Church: What the hell? Where the hell am I?
Meanwhile in our universe...
Templer: NO NO UGH- (got beats up) PLEASE IT WAS FOR THE PLOT PLEASE AAAAAAAAAAAA