(Scene: A battleground between the Protoss and the Terran. The Protoss have just
defeated a large ground force with a mound of zealots, led by Dezular, a Zealot
commander. Two wraiths appear on the battleground. The remaining five zealots
start to run.)
Dezular: Nagatsul! Run, zealots! We have got to get to the protection of our photon cannons!
Zealot 1: We'll never make it, Sir! We never got those Leg Enhancements!
Dezular: Damn it! I knew I should have gone to that conference to decide what upgrades we
needed!
(One of the zealots falls to the ground and is killed by the wraiths.)
Zealot 2: No! Zalbo'or!
Dezular: See what happens when you stop running? Keep going!
(A ghost appears out of nowhere.)
Casper: Leave it to me. Never know what hit 'em!
(The ghost locks down the wraiths)
Dezular: En taru Adun, good Templar!
Casper: What? Who is Tim Plarr?
(The zealots stare at Casper like he is stupid)
Dezular: *sigh* I see you're newly mind-controlled. Well, thank you for saving our lives.
Casper: No prob, zealot-y dude!
Dezular: (taken aback) Yes, well... (gathers his composure) How are we to destroy these villains,
though?
Casper: Why destroy them? They aren't gonna come after us for a while.
Dezular: I see your sympathies still lie with the Terran!
Casper: N–no... I just... okay, I'll destroy 'em.
Dezular: Good!
Casper: It's not the right Terrans anyway...
Dezular: What?!
Casper: Nothing! Here I go!
(Casper pulls out a funny-looking rifle and shoots one of the wraiths, causing a
whopping five points of damage)
Casper: Hold on, it takes a couple minutes to reload...
Zealot 1: That was crap-tacular.
Dezular: (sarcastically) Oh, wow. Five points of damage. What's next, a spitball barrage?! Why
not try putting real ammo in the gun, genius.
Casper: What do you expect?! I'm a friendly ghost!
(The zealots groan)
Dezular: Grr.... Hand me the damn gun.
Casper: Hey, wait! Your not authorized to... oof!
(Dezular wrests the rifle from Casper)
Dezular: Now to put some real ammo in this thing.... (looking around) Aha!
(He grabs the body of Zalbo'or, rips his left psionic blade off, and shoves it down
the barrel of the gun)
Casper: Hey, what are you doing?! Hey! HEY!! I'll have you know that's delicate equipment!
Zealot 1: Then why are there scuff marks and dents all over it?
Casper: ...It came that way.
Zealot 2: Yeah, right.
(Dezular shoves the rifle at Casper, knocking him over)
Casper: Ow! What was that for?
Dezular: Being annoying. Now shoot that at the damn wraiths. (He points at the rifle.)
Casper: That'll never work! It's just gonna wreck my dang gun, and I can't ask for another one
anymore!
Zealot 1: Anymore? What happened, did you screw up too many of them?
Casper: Hey! That's.... classified information.
Zealot 2: Ha ha. You did, didn't you.
Casper: ....Maybe. But that's not the point!
Dezular: Just shut up and shoot the damn wraiths already.
Casper: You know, you should really stop cussin'. It's burnin' my ears.
Dezular: *$^%*$#@&^%(@#!$@* %^)@*%&^~!!!!!!!!!!
Casper: Alright, alright!
(He fires the rifle at one of the wraiths, holding it as far away from him as he can,
both eyes closed. The psionic blade flies out of the barrel toward a wraith)
Casper: Well, what do ya know! It actually worked!
(He gets smacked in the back of the head by Dezular.)
Casper: Ow! Daggone son-of-a...
(The psionic blade turns in midair, bounces off the hull of one of the wraiths
[incidentally, it was not the one Casper was aiming at] and flies off into the distance)
Casper: (whistles) Sucker flew pretty far... (tries to look like he had planned this all along)
Zealot 1: Yeah, considering your gun can't smash a fly with a 3-inch caliber bullet, it WAS pretty
impressive.
(The zealots all snicker.)
Casper: What?! It can too smash a fly with a.... what did you say? A 3-inch cadaver mullet!
(The zealots all snicker again.)
Dezular: Fool! That psionic blade went flying towards the base!
(There is a flash of light from the direction the blade went flying, then a deafening
noise followed by a powerful blast of smoke-flavored wind)
Casper: Ah, crap!
Dezular: Fool! I knew this was a bad idea!
Casper: No, you didn't! It was your idea in the first place!
Dezular: Nu-uh! It was your idea. Let's go!
Casper: What- Hey! Wait for me!
(They all run to the base, only to find it in ruins with all the probes standing
outside them.)
Casper: That's bad, isn't it? Ow! What was that for?
Probe: Meow.
Casper: Hey! I think this probe just bit me!
Dezular: What did you do to it?
Casper: Nothing, honest. Ow! It did it again! Ow! Ow! Hey! Stop it!
Dezular: You kicked it, didn't you.
Casper: No... Ow! Okay, maybe just a little, but it deserved it!
Dezular: *sigh* How did it deserve it?
Casper: ...It looked at me funny. Ow! (Kicks the probe again)
Dezular: Uh-oh, now you've done it. It was just gonna bite you a couple times, but now....
(All the probes start to gather around Casper. Blue light flickers all over his legs.)
Casper: Ow! OW!! Zealot-y dude, help me!
Dezular: No way! They'll attack me too!
Casper: Ow! Ow! The agony!!!
(A deep, god-like voice booms out from the dark orange, polluted sky.)
Player: Probes. I command you to stop attacking that ghost.
Probes: Meow.
Player: I know, I know. He deserves it. But still you must stop your assault. He is a valued unit.
(Casper tries to look cool at this comment. He half closes his eyes and smiles cockily
around at everyone.)
Player: Yes, even if he is extraordinarily ugly, and reeks of foul human.
(Casper, his bubble burst, looks sullenly at the ground.)
Player: Dezular, Casper, zealots. You are convicted of high treason. The penalty is severe.
Why have you committed this heinous crime? Explain!
Casper: Yo, God-person! Down here! It was an accident, dude, sir! We didn't mean to... but it was
all that zealot-y dude's fault! I swear! Kill him, not me!
Dezular: Liar! It was your idea!
Player: Enough! Either BOTH you recompense for your deed, or pay the price.
Dezular: Fine. We will accept our deaths as punishment for our treasonous crime.
(Casper shoves Dezular out of the way.)
Casper: No way! Shut up, zealot-y dude! I'm not about to die! God-dude, we will recompense for
our crimes another way! How much do we need to give you? (Pulls a wallet out of a pocket)
Dezular: Hey, that's my wallet!
Casper: No, it's not... Your wallet is, um... Hey everybody! Look over there! (He takes off
running.)
(A bolt of lightning strikes next to Casper, and he jumps out of the way. He stops,
and turns around, hands in the air.)
Casper: Alright, alright. I'll come back.
Dezular: And give me my wallet back.
(Casper walks back, and reluctantly hands Dezular his wallet.)
Dezular: Hey, there's twenty bucks missing out of here!
Player: It is your choice. Recompense or die.
Casper: Geez, a lot of choice we've got. Alright, how much do we owe you? All I got is twenty
bucks.
Dezular: Yeah, my twenty bucks!
Player: Well, let's see... The cost of the base, plus the cost of the units lost, plus the time lost
for having to replace the base... The total comes out to roughly 25,000 minerals.
Casper: Geez, that's like a whole entire base!
(Everybody except Casper groans in disgust at this crap-tacular statement.)
Casper: How are we supposed to take that with just 4 zealots? Granted, you have ME but even I
am not that good.
Zealot 1: Really! Now, don't be modest, Casper. I'll bet you could take on an entire base by
yourself.
Casper: (Blushes) Aw, go on!
Zealot 2: No, really! You could just blow it up with ease, and take the minerals!
Zealot 1: I'll bet you could just dodge the bullets and walk right in!
Casper: (Blushes harder) Well, maybe just a little...
Zealot 2: Yeah, maybe you should go do it!
Zealot 1: That sure would clear this mess right up...
Casper: ....Nah, I don't feel like it.
Dezular: No, you should! Really, there's a base right over there! Just walk right into range of their
defenses and all our problems would be solved!
Zealot 1: Well, ONE of 'em, anyways.
(The zealots snicker, and even the player chuckles a little)
Casper: Hey, you guys are pickin' on me again! God-dude, make 'em stop!
Player: No, really, they are correct. I believe in you. After all, the smell alone would be enough to drive all the units away.
(The zealots, delighted to have the player on their side, laugh even harder.)
Casper: Hey! Stop laughin' at me!
Player: (has stopped laughing) So you have made your choice: You must take a secondary
base over by the time I have produced ten Carriers, or will destroy you.
Dezular: Oh, come on, Player! Can't you at least kill him, send a couple of zealot delinquents a
message? He wont be any help anyways!
Casper: Hey!
Player: No, I'm afraid not, although it would be fun...
Casper: Hey!!
Dezular: *sighs* Oh well.
Player: Hey, maybe next time though!
Casper: That's bet-HEY!!!!