(Ringing; beep sound; highway noise in background)
Xu (sarcastically): If this isn't a statuesque six-foot Centran goddess, I'm hanging up--!
Joker (assumed) (frantic, slurred): Sh-Shoe! G-Goddamit, Jesus motherfuckin' Christ!
Xu (tired): Nah, just Xu love...
Joker (coughing): Y-Yeah, whatever. This shit tapped?
Xu (screaming into microphone): What? I can't hear ya! Early frost in desert with high wind knocking down cell phone lines!
Joker (chuckling lightly): Thanks for coverin'; next time, I'm drivin' and fittin' the bill.
Xu (surprised): Uh Joker... I just... screamed at you... What--?
Joker (deadpan voice): --Got acclimated with Selphie... Lava Dome, concert, few weeks back...
Xu (impressed): Well... no shit...!
Joker (chuckling): You're right; ain't a way to greet an old war bud... just the same as always, even on your new hog--
Xu (annoyed): --You're not paying my gas while you're chatting, what's up?
Joker (hiding initial dismay): Yo I hoped you were free for a conversation together--
Xu (frustrated): --Conversation! Is that what you call screaming profanities like I caused this storm?
Joker (amicably): Sorry if I'm a little irate, but I got me an urgent situation; only you can bail me out of it.
Xu (curtly): I'm off duty with B-Garden. You're not my current client, and I got thirty one reasons why I'm not taking orders from you or anyone else there!
Joker (sibilantly): You'll hear me out anyway... I know it.
(Uncomfortable pause; presumed eighteen-wheeler drives past Xu)
Xu (pained): What's up?
Joker (calmly): You know what Illithids are?
Xu (casually): Heard the word before--
Joker (calmly): Then this'll be easy--!
Xu (suspiciously): Not from what I know about the word, it won't...
Joker (hesitantly, sibilantly): Y-You could be more right than you know--
Xu (interrupting): --Keep talking (footsteps along grass) but be concise; time's money out here.
Joker (hesitantly): Well... shit's hit Balamb... and, ah-- (losing composure) --we're at a total loss and-- (suddenly frantic) T-They... f-fucking creamed our sorry asses!
Xu (confused): Who did what at Balamb and why?
Joker (frantic): Illithids-- (Eighteen-Wheeler drives past Joker) Wait... where are--?
Xu (pressing): --Never mind, say again...?
Joker (frayed): Fag-Ass Illithids...! Everywhere (Sound of scraping metal presumably sword drawn from sheath) SASE firing here, SeeDs firing there, fucking war, Commandant! Esthar's President, Student Body, everyone's unaccounted for--!
Xu (calmly): All right, stay cool... where are you now?
Joker (frantic): Fucking West Eighty, heading for Dryfield; friend's waiting there--
Xu (coolly): --Is she alone--?
Joker (belligerently): --The fuck should I know!
(Pause; footsteps along gravel)
Xu (curious): Well I'm just wondering Joseph... I mean, you... got proof--?
Joker (annoyed): --Commandant, would I interrupt your joyride out here hittin' biker gangs, fucking man-whores... swillin' swill with gold-tooth-picked-fuckin'-olives... if I didn't think there was something that could use the Ace of Heart's immediate fucking attention?
(Footsteps stop)
Xu (calmly): Just making sure, Mr. Camelot; Illithids are serious business... got to be... specially trained; even I needed support back at Maddarrab Nova to pull that job--
Joker (annoyed): That's what Matron Kramer kept bitching about--'cept maybe White SeeD... high above, deep below, I don't know where they're at!
Xu (calmly): So, how did you get away?
Joker (frantic): Well, I-I wasn't even there when the shit started; heard it goin' down on scanner--
Xu (puzzled): --Scanner?
Joker (frantic): --Scanner! From Trabia!
Xu (suspiciously): T-Garden scanner?
Joker (horrified): TG-SeeDs went down an hour ago, searching for survivors... got their shit... f-f-fucked up...!
(Pause; footsteps on gravel resume)
Xu (calmly): Sounds too dire from you... but you also don't stammer your profanity all too often... Where's Marilena right now?
Joker (sarcastic): Yeah, I get ya, Commandant: I tell you, you kiss my ass goodbye--Jesus Christ--they shot at me, and they already nixed my Force! Now fucking... triangulate my position right fucking now!
Xu (placating): Okay, okay, I'm heading over... Wait, what's your Force?
Joker (screaming): Efreet! Ammo refinement! Fuckin' empty!
Xu (plainly): So... Ifrit's down for how many more hours, Instructor Joker?
Joker (nervous laughter): Half an hour more...
Xu (slowly): Okay then... why? Stay calm... why wait for a half an hour more?
Joker (breathing deeply): If they're nailed, they come back 'bout twenty-four hours later... meanwhile, all of your-- (inhaling) --all your Junctions are shot to hell for a while... (Exhaling) I'm right along the highway. They're raiding towns everywhere. You know... ha, you know those gangs you're hunting? They're party to this shit.
Xu (wry tone): Oh really (incoherent, feminine whispering presumably on Xu's end) ...Still there...?
Joker (calmer): Yeah, Illithids manipulating 'em--SeeDs, too--they're easier when they're on Junctions, drugs, even both--their own minds softened up like putty... easily brainwashed. That's how Edea-- (Gasps; angrily) Oh... fuck!
(Sudden heavy wind interferes with transmission; glass shattering presumed)
Unknown Croaking Voice (Conjectured): Low-Grade Instructors never get briefed about Maddarrab Nova...! (Garbled)
Additional Voice (Unknown Female): Master, Ifrit's offline. Joker's firearm's been discharged repeatedly...
Joker (irately): S-Shiva...! Y-You bitch...! F-Fucking dykes (horrified) Wait!
Unknown Croaking Voice: ...Nice Snowing You...
(Joker screams horrifically; sudden transmission static)
(Static abruptly ceases)
(Background noise assumed: Raining on rooftop)
Xu (chortling, inhaling cigarette): ...Almasy can't-- (indecipherable) --pieced this together... (Exhales) White SeeD's... Marilena and Rinoa... ours now...
(End Transmission)
On Tuesday, November 13th, 2007, 3:47 a.m. EST:
I've never crafted a short story under one thousand words before (its exact count should be 882 according to Microsoft Word's word count criterions). I wrote this on a caffeine binge, surrendering to my desire to post something.
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII (and everything contained therein) is a commercial property of Square-Enix. I'm ambitious enough, however, to eventually purchase certain rights to create spin-off games once I establish myself in the game industry. Guaranteed, this story will show up somewhere as a playable game.
Sunday, January 27th, 2008, 9:22 p.m. EST:
Good God, that needed some cleaning, especially of the Author's Notes. Jeez...! Sorry about that. This is a horror story, a phone conversation that goes awry when the person you want to be saved by turns out to be hunting you. It's also related to other stories I want to write. Inspiration chiefly stemmed from Faaip de Oiad, a song by Tool on the Lateralus album.