ACT FOUR
Scene D
FADE IN:
EXT. THE HARPIES' CAMP, PARADISE ISLAND, MURDERWORLD – DAY
Warm water sluiced down over Gambit's head, plastering his hair down over his face. He was sitting in a large metal pot of water, or a cauldron he supposed, like the main ingredient to some kind of witches' brew. The three women had manhandled him into the cauldron of water, but not before unceremoniously disrobing him and putting some kind of stinging solution on the tattoo on his arm. He kept the band of leather tied around his bicep because now the tattoo had disintegrated into a blueish blob. Gambit pushed his hair back from his face to look at the faces of the three women standing around the cauldron. They'd removed their bird masks. Their expressions were pleased, eager, and excited. There was a raven-haired woman with dark skin, a brunette with gray eyes, and a woman with strawberry-blond hair and freckles.
"I told you he'd clean up," the dark-haired woman said.
"He's soooo cute," said the brunette. "Can we keep him?"
"He's all ready mostly housebroke," said the redhead. "Once that stupid tattoo fades off, he'll be perfect!"
Gambit shrank back from the women to the opposite side of the cauldron.
"He looks scared," the brunette said.
"Aw, poor thing," said the redhead and reached out a hand. Gambit flinched back. "I think he's been abused," she said.
"I've not been abused!" Gambit told her.
"We'll have to rehabilitate him before he can be released to a new home," the raven-haired woman said, ignoring Gambit's words completely.
The redhead clapped happily. "Yay! We get to keep him!"
The women tried to crowd around him so he moved to the center of the cauldron. "Lissen ladies, please," he began. "You have my thanks for de bath but-."
"Did you hear that?" the redhead asked enthusiastically. "He says please and thanks!"
"Someone's trained him a bit," the raven-haired girl said. "I wonder why he was abandoned?"
"There, there," the brunette said soothingly. "It's okay! You're safe now!"
Gambit shook his head, flabbergasted. The cauldron was located within the women's camp. There were several brightly colored fabric tents surrounding the centrally located bazaar. The camp residents were almost entirely composed of young beautiful women. There was a cage constructed of bamboo poles nearby in which several young men were kept. These men were tanned to the point of being orange and their necks were nearly as thick as their heads. The men had multiple tattoos, called each other "brah!," and laughed raucously at inappropriate sexist jokes and body functions. They also spent some time admiring their own pectoral muscles. When they got too rowdy, the women guarding the cage would give them withering glares of derision.
Conversely, there were several men who were left loose to walk around the camp. Gambit envied them in that they had pants and were well-groomed and fed, but that was where the jealously ended. He witnessed one man arranging a pile of about twenty decorative throw pillows on a settee. Another man stood patiently as one of the women showed him two swatches of equally purple fabric. The man weighed in his opinion: "They're both nice, but whatever you think, dear." There were a pair of men checking things off their "Honey-Do" lists. Yet another man was bringing home a box of feminine products from the bazaar. He hadn't even put the box of tampons in a bag; he was walking around with the box under his arm.
I gotta get outta here, Gambit thought to himself in a panic. "Ladies...I'm flattered. But you really don't wanna keep me."
The girls all made "aw!" sounds at his accent. "He's so sweet! Yes you are! Yes you are!"
"I'm not de kinda guy you want t'have around. I'm not de one you wanna bring home t'your mamma...or introduce t'your older brother," Gambit said. "Please don't do that. Me an' older brothers don't go."
"Look at him, trying to be all modest...," said the redhead. "Don't you worry, sweetie. We'll have you all cleaned up in time for dinner."
Gambit momentarily paused at the thought of dinner. It was tempting. Then he shook his head. "Thank you kindly for de invite, but let me be honest, I'm totally wrong for you."
The girls looked at each other with smiles on their faces. "He's being honest!" said the brunette. She reached behind her back to unclasp her top.
"Nonononono!" Gambit said emphatically. "I'm totally not! Honesty is not what I'm known for. Quite de opposite in fact."
"He's so open about his shortcomings," said the dark-haired woman. She was wiggling out of her bikini bottoms.
Gambit held out his hands as if to say STOP! At a loss, he declared: "I'm just getting over a serious relationship! I'm not ready to get too involved wit' another woman!"
The redhead made a sympathetic noise. "The poor thing's heart is broken. We'll help you get over her." The woman hopped up onto the edge of the cauldron and put her shapely legs into the water.
Gambit looked around for a means of escape. "Ah...uhm...Wait! You have t'know I'm only just now startin' to see other people. And well, one of 'em might frown on hearin' tell of me bein' involved in dis particular incident. I don't want her t'get de wrong impression-that I'm into this kinda thing!"
The three women plopped into the cauldron with him. He was completely surrounded. "He's so thoughtful of other people's feelings," the brunette said.
"I'm tellin' you! I'm bad news! I've got a past!"
"He's troubled..."
"We can help you change!
"So romantic...a reformed man!"
Gambit found himself in the center of the cauldron being petted in a consoling manner by three nude women. He tried to grasp their hands or at least halt their progress, but now one of the women had wrapped her arms around him and was kissing the side of his face. "Can we just talk?" he exclaimed. "I'm feelin' like we're gettin' a little off track here."
"He wants to talk-about his feelings!" This only seemed to excite them more.
"Justaminute!" Gambit cried. Under the water, someone's hand was resting very high on his thigh. "I can't stay here! I gotta go find my-my..."
The girls looked at him expectantly.
"My teammate," he concluded. "We're bot' trapped, we don't belong here. I gotta get her out and get her home!"
The dark-haired girl pulled herself close. "You could take me home."
"No, me," said the brunette. "She's the bossy one, I'm the sweet one."
The redhead pouted. "You'd like me best. I'm the best cook."
"No, I am!" said the dark-haired girl. She looked at Gambit with dark hooded eyes. "Didn't you like my pie? I'd love to serve you another piece!" She seized his lower lip and tugged it playfully.
"My pie is better than hers," said the brunette, curling her fingers in his hair. "Just wait 'til you have it hot!"
"I'm known for my strawberry pie," said the redhead ,whose hands were under the water. "You could have it with whipped cream!"
Gambit looked from one woman to the next. He diplomatically said: "I like t'eat all kinds a pie! In fact, I was de state fair pie-eatin' champion. And considerin' I'm from de state of Louisiana where we're known for pie-eatin', that makes me de best pie eater in de U.S. of A."
The women smiled delightedly. "We're definitely keeping you!" said the dark-haired woman.
Gambit gave up and sank down into the water, then submerged himself entirely. The girls watched him disappear. Bubbles emerged from his mouth and nose to float to the surface.
"What's he doing?" the brunette asked.
"Is that the catch of the day?" asked a voice. The three women turned to see their towheaded leader standing by the cauldron, a pie in her hand.
"He's shy," said the redhead and pointed down at the bubbles. "We think he's been abused."
"He likes abuse. Anyway, I've got something for him," the Harpies' leader said and held out the pie.
"Will he eat it?" asked the dark-haired woman.
The leader smiled knowingly from behind her mask. "Oh...I know he'll eat it. He's had it before and he loves it. In fact, I don't think I've ever met a man who likes eating pie more. Now, fish him out before he drowns himself...and have him brought to my tent."
CUT TO:
INT. THE JEAN GREY SCHOOL CONFERENCE ROOM, SALEM CENTER – NIGHT
Bobby Drake was apoplectic. He was watching the unedited footage for the next episode of Paradise Lust: Oceans of Passion!.
"How is this happening?" he asked and pointed at the television screen. Gambit was being fished out of a cauldron by three gorgeous naked women. Gambit was resisting so the women began to tie him up.
"How is this happening?" Gambit cried as he was carried off to a large white tent.
"This is not fair," Bobby said. "Look at him! He doesn't want to be there! Why couldn't I have been abducted by Mojo?"
"You're not leading man material," Joanna said. "You're comic relief at best. But maybe Mojo could put you in a buddy picture."
"This is unbelievable," Bobby complained. Gambit was now being tied down to a bed.
"Help!" Gambit cried. "This isn't funny! Let me go!"
"Look!" said one of the girls. "We've got some nice pie for you."
Gambit looked at the girls dubiously. His mouth formed a little moue. "What kind?" he asked sullenly.
"It's chess pie," said the dark-haired girl.
Gambit's expression changed. "Really?" he asked. "A real chess pie? Wit' de cornmeal and de vinegar and everything?"
The girls nodded.
"I suppose I could eat a piece," Gambit agreed.
The pie was sitting on a sideboard. There was a shot of one of the women cutting a slice of pie and plating it. She brought the pie to the bed and handed each of the other two women a fork.
"Can't you untie me?" Gambit pleaded.
"Open wide!" said the redhead and held a forkful of pie towards Gambit's mouth.
Gambit sighed, then opened his mouth. The girl fed him a bite.
"How is it?" the brunette asked.
Gambit swallowed. "It tastes like home," he told them.
The girls grinned. "It's got a secret ingredient," said the dark-haired woman as she fed Gambit a second bite.
"Don't eat the pie!" Bobby exclaimed at the television.
"Bobby, sit down and shut up!" Joanna snapped.
"Uhm," Gambit said chewing. "Is it lemon?"
The girls shook their heads 'no.'
"Cinnamon?"
"The pie is drugged, you doofus!" Bobby cried.
The girls giggled. "Have some more," said the redhead.
All in all, Gambit ate two and a half helpings of pie. Bobby put his head in his hands. The giggling girls left the tent. From the tent interior, you could see their shadows falling on the white tent walls. They began having a hushed conversation. Gambit lifted his head to look around. The tent was a large square. The fabric was pulled up to a central point over his head. The bed he was bound to was set on four sturdy wooden posts. He attempted to wiggle his hand from one of the bindings.
"I get to go first," said one of the girls loudly. "It was my pie that caught him."
"I'm the one who cleaned him up!" announced another girl.
"He likes me best, I can tell!" said the third girl.
Gambit began tugging furiously at the ropes.
"We'll just have to settle this the Harpy way," said the dark-haired girl.
"All right," the redhead agreed. "What'll it be...pudding or Jell-O®?"
"Jell-O," said the brunette. "What colors have we got?"
Gambit stared at the three silhouettes.
"Green or red," said the dark-haired girl.
"I prefer red," said the redhead.
"All right, I'll go inflate the kiddie pool. You go get the Jell-O."
Bobby stared at the television set. "Wait...what-what are they going to do? Why aren't they showing it?"
"Maybe they're trying to leave something to the imagination," Joanna suggested.
Gambit's hand squirmed free from one of the ropes and he began untying his other wrist. Outside the tent, one of the curvaceous female shadows dragged over a kiddie pool. The other pair dumped two buckets of what had to be Jell-O into the pool. Gambit's attention was drawn to the shadows when they each stepped into the pool and faced off against one another.
"Okay, let's start on three...One-two-three!"
There was a sudden flailing of limbs, sliding bodies, and little grunts of effort punctuated by squeals as the girls fell upon one another. Gambit stared for several long moments, then turned and began fumbling frantically at the ropes.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no," Gambit was saying. His expression was anxious. Outside the girls continued their wrestling match.
"That's you pinned, Tami!" said one of the girls.
"Ooh!" Tami moaned.
Gambit was sweating now. "What is happening t'me?" he panted. He looked down at himself and said: "Stop it!"
There was another squeal from outside the tent. "Oh! It's slippery!" said one of the girls.
Gambit got his other hand free and quickly sat up. The girls entered the tent, covered head to toe in red Jell-O. Gambit pulled a decorative pillow over his lap.
"We decided we'll all go at once," said the redhead.
Gambit was shaking his head.
Another shadow appeared outside the tent. The tent flaps were tossed aside and a woman with an impressive bird-mask headdress strode into the tent. "No you won't," she told the girls. "This one is mine."
"Aww!" said the girls.
"Leave us!" the woman commanded and pointed to the tent exit.
The women pouted and reluctantly departed. When they were gone, the Harpies' leader turned back to the bed. She had lots of blond hair that tumbled down her shoulders. She was petite and wasp-waisted. Her lips were full and pouty and very distinctive. Gambit felt that he'd seen those lips before.
"Erm...hello there, chere," he said to the Harpies' leader. "This is extremely awkward..."
The woman set her hands on her hips. "This is actually extremely disappointing," she told him. "This is not what I signed up for!"
Gambit blinked at her. "Do I-have we met?" he asked.
The woman tilted her head forward and removed her mask. When she righted herself, she tossed back her long blond hair. Gambit's eyes goggled.
"Spat!" he said. "What are you doin' here?"
SPAT frowned at him and tossed her headdress onto a chair. "I should ask you the same question!" she said. "This wasn't in the script! You're supposed to be Longshot!"
Gambit opened his mouth in shocked protest. "Longshot!" he exclaimed. "That guy? He's the poor man's me!"
Spat snorted. "He's the original. And he's a lot nicer than you!"
"I'm plenty nice!" Gambit shot back. "Anyway, I didn't ask t'be here!"
Spat blinked. "You didn't?" she asked.
"Of course not! I'm being held prisoner!" Gambit gestured to his bound ankles.
Spat removed a rolled up sheaf of papers from the back of her bikini and consulted its contents. "Well...yeah, that part's in here," she said. "You're supposed to protest the women's affections because you're trying to remain true to your lady love."
"I'm just trying to get out of here!" Gambit said.
"And then I come in and you're supposed to charm me," Spat told him, reading on. "So that I fall in love with you and help you escape."
"I like de escaping part," Gambit told her. "Are you saying you-auditioned for this part?"
Spat smoothed a hand down the front of her bikini top. "Honey, I was made for this part."
"You mean you were typecast," Gambit told her.
She threw the script at him. "You're still a jerk."
Gambit picked up the script and consulted it. "What de hell?" he said as he flipped through the pages.
"All right, let's just get on with the show," Spat said and walked over to the bed.
"What are you doin'?" Gambit asked her as she climbed up on the bed.
"Following direction," she said and crawled over to him.
"Hey...now waitaminute."
Spat pulled the script from his hands and tossed it to the floor. She reached for the pillow on his lap. Gambit seized it and held it in place.
"What are you doing?" Spat asked him.
"I'll tell you what we're not doing. We're not doing this," he said.
"Listen up, Gambit!" Spat spat. "You're not going to get me cancelled!" She grabbed the pillow and tried to wrestle it from his grip.
"Stop it!" Gambit yelled. "I'm not going t'let you assault me!"
Spat sat back on her heels and looked at him with disgust. "You can't be serious. It's not assault! I'm a woman! Women can't assault men!"
"This is reverse discrimination!" Gambit told her. "And your advances are unwelcome."
Spat seized the pillow from Gambit's grip and held it over his face. "That's it, this is going to be a snuff film!" She straddled him and bore down on the pillow.
"Mmmph!" Gambit said from under the pillow. He grabbed a fistful of her hair at the nape of her neck. Spat shrieked a little and released the pillow to rescue her hair. Gambit tossed the pillow aside and gasped. Now they were wrestling around on the bed.
Frenzy slurped loudly from her straw, draining the contents of her Big Gulp. Bobby and Warbird turned to regard her with a look of annoyance. Bobby was drawn back to the screen by the sounds of struggle that had stopped sounding so much like struggle and more like something else entirely.
Sure enough, Gambit and Spat were kissing one another in a passionately violent way. Hair-pulling was involved.
"Geez," Bobby said. "They're really going at it."
"Wait!" Gambit said, holding Spat by the shoulders. "We can't do this!"
Spat panted through her bee-stung lips. "It's in the script!" she said.
"What happens after?" Gambit asked. "What's supposed t'happen after you help me escape?"
Spat placed her hands on the bed on either side of Gambit's head. She thought for a moment. "I'm supposed to be taken in to the temple guards' custody where I catch the eye of the Captain. Then he and I are going to have a passionate romance and get our own spinoff series."
"Are you serious?" he asked her.
"Well, yeah," she said and leaned over the side of the bed to retrieve the script. She reviewed her highlighted lines.
"And they told you Longshot was supposed t'be cast in my role?" Gambit asked.
Spat pouted. "Yes."
"So what makes you think any of dis other stuff is true?" he continued, taking the script and shaking it at her.
Spat frowned down at him. "I signed a contract..." she said, though now she looked doubtful.
"You can still help me escape," he told her and pointed at several stanzas of text. "Only let's just skip this part."
Spat looked down at where she straddled Gambit's waist. "Our sponsors won't be happy if they don't see their product in action."
"Believe me, it's workin' fine," Gambit said uncomfortably.
"So you really don't want to?" Spat asked.
"Nothin' personal," Gambit told her.
Spat sat up. "When did you become such a-a wuss?"
"Please won't you help me, Spat?" Gambit beseeched.
"Stop with the puppy-dog eyes," Spat said and climbed off Gambit's waist. She began to untie his ankle. "I guess I should have known something was up when I saw Rogue. No wonder you're acting all freaked out."
Gambit grasped Spat by the upper arms. "You've seen Rogue? She's here?"
"Yeah...well, not here here. She's up at the temple," Spat said. "Figures. Wherever she is, you're never far behind."
Gambit climbed out of the bed. "Can't I have some pants?" he asked her, cupping his hands over his crotch. It wasn't really doing much to conceal anything.
Spat was looking down at him. She shrugged and sighed a bit. "I guess." She walked to the chest at the foot of the bed and opened it.
"What's Rogue doin' up at de temple?" Gambit asked.
Spat tossed out several garments. "Getting worshipped," she said. "Pampered, fed, serviced."
Spat offered Gambit a pair of breeches which he gratefully accepted.
Bobby said: "Oh, for crying out loud...can someone get Gambit a pair of pants that actually fit?"
From the back of the room Joanna said: "Your pants would be tight too if you were swinging that much pipe."
Bobby turned to where Joanna was sitting with her feet propped up on the conference room table. "Hey, peanut gallery. Shut it."
Gambit was looking down at his pants. "Are these even men's pants?" he asked.
"They should loosen up in a couple of hours...you know, when you...," Spat held her hand out flat and then let her wrist go limp.
"Hours!" Gambit asked and gestured at his crotch. "What did you do t'me?"
Spat put her hands on her hips. "You didn't have to eat half a pie," she told him.
Gambit tightened the laces on the front of the breeches. "De sad thing is, I had t'force myself t'stop eatin' it."
"You were eating that pie like you hadn't had it in years," Spat said.
"It had been awhile...'til de other day when my roommate had me try her pie-empanada, I think she called it."
"How was it?" Spat asked.
Gambit thought a moment. "Satisfying. But you know...I kinda prefer a sweeter pie."
Warbird stood from her chair. "All this talk of dessert has made me...peckish..."
"Heh," Bobby said. "Good one."
Warbird gave him a curious look and cocked her head. "I will be upstairs exploring my options. Would you like me to prepare something for you?"
Bobby said: "Uhm...no thanks. And I really wish we could clarify that we are all talking about food here."
"How long is this going to go on for?" Joanna asked with annoyance.
"Seriously," Bobby said, and pointed at the screen. "He's eaten so much pie, I'm surprised he hasn't gotten sick."
Joanna squeaked her straw in and out of the cup's lid. "I saw him get sick once...from some cheap roadside diner pie he picked up. Gambit used to eat just about anything. I think he's got a more refined palette now."
"Let's just go back to watching the show," Bobby said after a moment and turned back to the television.
"Uhm...I should probably warn you about the other side-effect...," Spat hedged.
Gambit's eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. "What other side-effect?" he asked slowly with deadly malice.
Spat gnawed her lip. "You might start to feel...the need to vent. Profusely. And given your usual verbosity, it's probably going to be like Montezuma's Revenge of the Mouth."
Gambit rubbed his hands through his hair. "Spat...I swear-you might actually kill me this time."
"Sowwy Wemmy," Spat said sweetly. "I thought I was gonna get lucky. With Longshot. And that's like, really really lucky."
"Let's just move on...How do I get up t'de temple?" Gambit asked Spat.
Spat glanced at the tent door. "The fastest way is the jungle path..." she began. "But that's crawling with temple guards."
"Is there another option?" Gambit asked.
"Well, we can wait a little bit until it's dark and slip out the back way. It's a bit of a climb, but we can take the route along the river," Spat told him. "What are you going to do when you get to the temple? Rogue's surrounded by about five-dozen worshippers and guards."
Gambit touched the strap on his arm. "I only need t'get close t'her. The rest will sort out."
Spat frowned at him. "That's your plan? You're nuts. Or maybe borderline retarded."
Gambit made an all-encompassing gesture at himself. "This is all a carefully contrived ruse to fool people into underestimating me. What's your excuse?"
"Hey!" Spat snapped.
"You're de one who signed a contract to be involved wit' dis craziness," Gambit continued.
Spat held her arms out to her sides. "Yeah, well the whole bounty hunter slash adventurer gig kinda got to be a bummer."
Gambit crossed his arms. "Try bein' de bounty huntee," he said.
"Hm, yeah. Sorry about that whole...thing," Spat told him. "But you're probably right. Signing that contract might have been a mistake. That Captain is not exactly what I was hoping for. He's a little bit of an arrogant prick."
"What did you expect from some showbiz guy?" Gambit asked her. "They love de spotlight and getting all de attention."
"Look at you talking. You love attention," Spat told him.
"Not this kind of attention! I prefer a more one-on-one situation," he flapped a hand at one of the annoying cameras. "This is too much exposure for me. Most of de time, I'm practically wallpaper. Which suits me fine. I don't need t'be drawin' fire. All ready got Exodus chasing me across Manhattan. What'll it be next? Gettin' de snot beat outta me by The Avengers? Now that'd be really stupid."
"All right all right," Spat said and raised her hands. "Listen. I'll get you up to the temple. I can divert the Captain's attention while you sneak in to find Rogue. That, my friend, is a real plan."
From outside came a splintering crack and then a crashing noise. Then the sound of several voices going: "WOOOOOO!" all at once.
"What was that?" Gambit asked. "Nothin' good ever happened after someone said: wooo!"
Spat looked alarmed. "Oh no!" she dashed to the tent flap and peered out. "The fratboy meatheads have got out!"
Gambit approached the open tent door to stand behind her. "What?" he asked. "You mean those guys you had in a cage?"
Several muscled meatheads ran past, their arms raised. Somehow, red Solo cups had appeared in their hands.
Gambit held his hands to his ears. "What's that horrible noise?"
"It's Nickelback!" Spat cried. "They've gone wild! It's like Spring Break out there! Who let them out?"
There was an intense flare of light in the growing darkness. The campfires around the tents suddenly became bonfires. A settee and several pillows were consigned to the flames. In the dancing shadows a large, broad-chested man appeared. He was carrying a sword.
"I'm gonna hazard a guess and say that guy let 'em out," Gambit said and pointed.
Several of the spear-bearing Harpies approached the man, but then caught sight of his flowing golden hair, his muscled chest, and chiseled features. They swooned helplessly. The tamed men emerged from their tents in their tasteful pajama bottoms brandishing baseball bats, golf clubs, and bedside lamps. Asserting their masculinity, they began running after the fratboy meatheads. Unfortunately, this triggered the meatheads' instincts to band together (though their usual testosterone-fueled idiocy often put them at odds with one another). There was a terrible clash of two worlds. Fortunately, it appeared the older, tax-paying, wage-earning males were winning, fueled by their irritation at having their gardens trampled and private property abused.
"Get off my lawn!" screamed a man wielding a nine iron.
"It's the Captain!" Spat declared with a little sigh, pointing at the sword-bearing man.
Gambit looked down at Spat then back at the Captain who was dramatically heading in their direction in slow-motion, surrounded by flames and smoke.
"Him?" Gambit asked, giving the man a disgusted look. "He's much too old for you!"
Spat glanced back at Gambit. "No, he's not! And I am way more mature than I look!" she told him.
"Well that's good," Gambit said. "Because you look barely legal."
"You, there," the Captain said and raised his arm to point. "Are you Remy LeBeau, otherwise known as Gambit?"
Gambit looked at the heroically-posed Captain. "Gambit?" Gambit repeated. "No. No, I'm James."
The Captain regarded Gambit stoically. "I do not believe you. Guards, seize him!"
Several men appeared to surround the tent. They were holding ropes.
"Seriously?" Gambit said, annoyed. "Not again."
Spat grasped Gambit's arm. "Oh, no you don't," she told the Captain. "He's my captive. You can't just come into my camp and start throwing your weight around, buddy."
The Captain glanced at Spat dismissively. "I am assuming control of this operation," he told her and directed their gaze to the riotous meatheads, "in the capture and refinement of these idiots. They will better serve as soldiers than your housepets. And then you can perform in a more fitting role as befitting of the weaker sex. Cooking and cleaning and what have you."
"Ex-cuse me?" Spat said, her hands on her hips. "You don't get to pick my role, Captain. Our "housepets" elected to stay here rather than go up to Temple Big-Schlong On The Hill with you! And by the way, I happen to like my domestic duties so how dare you belittle me!"
"You arrogant prick!" Gambit told him. "What kinda captain are you, anyway? You're supposed t'serve de people you protect...you answer t'them, not de other way around!"
"Shh..." Spat told him. "Remy...you're drawing fire."
"I'm sick of these egotistical jerks comin' around actin' all self-righteous and no one calling them out on their crap!" Gambit snapped.
"Here, here!" Bobby said.
"Did you just agree with Gambit?" Joanna asked.
"Have I missed anything?" Warbird asked as she re-entered the conference room, her hand riffling in a bag of Doritos.
Suddenly, the sides of Spat's tent caught flame. Gambit and Spat were forced from the cover of the tent into the courtyard. The Captain stood before them.
"My role is to ensure our survival by any means necessary," he told Gambit (as Spat was beneath his notice). "Even if that means allowing you, as pathetic as you are, to serve our queen. And if that doesn't work, I will take care of her myself. Then I'll be the hero!"
"That's definitely not in the script!" Spat yelled at the Captain.
Suddenly a powerful draft caused all the fires to flare and spark. Tents fluttered in the breeze. Gambit and Spat threw up their arms to keep the flying dust from their eyes.
From above came a terrible sound: "WAURRK!"
"Gah!" Gambit said. "It's that giant flippin' bird again!"
The bright belly and the wings of an enormous bird filled the night sky, it's light plumage painted red and orange by the dancing flames. The bird squawked again, it's giant clawed feet pawing the air as it flapped its wings to remain aloft over the camp.
"Run away!" Gambit and Spat cried.
Spat grasped Gambit's wrist and together they ran to disappear into the dark jungle.
FADE OUT
