Reddit Write-Off

By
sir_robert_muldoon
FOR REDDIT GLORY!
10/1/2014
FADE IN:
EXT. BATTLEFIELD - DAY
The landscape is hell-torn. Shell holes pockmark the hills,
black smoke rises from the smoldering ruins of a dozen
tanks, and the soldiers have taken to close combat.
A storm is gathering on the horizon, and lightning bolts arc
down every so often to rake the battlefield.
Men and women in gas masks and trench coats engage in combat
with...strange opponents. They are humanoid, but not human,
tall, lanky creatures with dog-faces and long claws.
SHARLA ALBRECHT, 27, is on her back, staring up at the sky,
her face obscured by a gas mask. An emblem of a PAIR OF DICE
is emblazoned on her shoulder patch. She paws at her face
with a gloved hand and tears it off, gasping for breath.
She sits up, to catch her breath, looks around for her
squadmates.
SHARLA
Karl? Lutra? Mariss?
No one answers. She tries to sit up, but winces in pain. She
looks down and pulls aside an undone flap of her trench
coat. A long claw has embedded itself in her side.
SHARLA
(cont)
Damn...
THE TRICKSTER GOD
(os)
Damn is right.
Sharla turns around for the source of the voice. Theres a
large dog-faced creature, dressed in what might pass for a
kind of jesters outfit. Bones of all kind dangle on
threads, in its hair, on its fingers, jowls, ears.
Sharla reaches into her coat, whips out a pistol, pulls
three times but all trhee shots miss wide.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
(cont)
That wont be necessary.
He rests a massive claw on her hand and her arm gives way
under the weight.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 2.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
(cont)
That was a risky move, what you
pulled back there.
Sharla looks around. The Trickster God points to a
smoldering wreck. Sharla hangs her head. She coughs and
somewhat sobs at once.
SHARLA
Had to take the chance.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
Hah! I love it. Though, are you
sure you should take your mask off?
The flu is sill virulent in these
parts of France.
He laughs a cackling, hyena laugh.
SHARLA
Who...the hell...are you?
THE TRICKSTER GOD
Pah! Idiote petite fille! Your
people have posted photos of me, I
think. And told stories.
He jangles his bag of bones. Her eyes brighten.
SHARLA
The Gambler. The Trickster. Youre
a god of the dag-faces.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
Cest moi. Ive been watching you
for some time now, Sharla.
SHARLA
That you know my name isnt at all
disconcerting.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
To be honest, not a very difficult
trick for a god.
He reaches into his bag and pulls out a leather skin of soe
sloshing liquid.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
Drink.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 3.
SHARLA
Im not drinking anything you have
to offer.
The trickster god laughs and tosses her the skin anyway.
After a pause, she uncorks it, sniffs, and takes a big glug.
SHARLA
(cont)
Damn, thats good. What year is it.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
2009.
She hesitates another moment, then takes a smaller swig.
SHARLA
Did you come all this way to rub
salt in my wounds while Im dying?
You dog-faces, even you gods among
them, sprang up from a pig flu,
never forget that.
The Tricksters face darkens. A thunderclap echoes nearby, a
lightning flash bright enough to distort the profile of the
Trickster into an immense, swirling mass of chaotic light
and shadow.
SHARLA
(cont)
Oh, did I hit a sore spot?
THE TRICKSTER GOD
Enough, I have come to offer you a
choice. I have waited so long for
this moment.
Sharla corks the skin.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
(cont)
Ive seen you, so unlike the great
majority of mine and your kind.
SHARLA
Mom always said I was special.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
Oh, but you are. We herald the
apocalypse yet to come and while
all the rest of your brothers and
sisters languish, you have exulted.
Every manner of violent, carnal,
drugged out indulgence.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 4.
She blows out her nose. A gob of blood flies out.
SHARLA
A dog-face into debauchery. Will
the wonders never cease?
It dampens the mood of the Trickster.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
The stereotype, sadly, is true.
Which is why I have approached you,
now, at your moment of death. To
offer you a choice.
SHARLA
A choice?
The trickster pulls out a pair of bones from his bag, holds
them tight in his palm, slowly opens his hand to reveal-
SHARLA
(cont)
Dice?
THE TRICKSTER GOD
I can let your god of death, your
reaper, come and take you away to
whatever place in heaven or hell
youve earned for yourself,
or...you can roll the dice, and
become my living avatar.
SHARLA
And if the dice dont favor me?
The Trickster jangles his bag of bones.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
Into the bag of go. Youre not
quite that special.
The storm overhead recedes. The trickster bends down with
his dice. Sharla takes them.
SHARLA
What must I roll?
THE TRICKSTER GOD
Hmm, how about...double sixes?
SHARLA
Not making it easy for me.
(CONTINUED)
CONTINUED: 5.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
You could always say no.
She looks at the dice in her hand, then at her surroundings.
She looks at the burning wrecks, the distant lightning
storm, the sounds of battle and blood all around her, and
finally at the Trickster, with his horrifying, toothy grin.
SHARLA
Screw it.
She casts the dice upon the earth. One hits a 6. She gasps.
The Trickster is jumping up and clapping his claws together.
The second die tumbles about. After a moment of clattering,
it lands on a 1. The Trickster god clicks his tongue, draws
a long, sharp claw across his cheek.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
Oh, so sad. Well, the dice never
lie. If you have any tears, prepare
to shed them now.
Sharla pulls out her gun again.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
Again? If the first three times
didnt work-
She fires at the die. It flies into the air. The Trickster
gods eyes track it. When it lands, it tumbles again, then
finally stops upon the number 6. A rumbling laugh escapes
the belly of the Trickster.
Sharla, after a moment of nervousness, joins him in raucous
laughter.
THE TRICKSTER GOD
Oh, Sharla, I can already tell how
much fun were going to have.
the laughter doesnt end. Sharla looks around. The storm ahs
dispersed, but still hovers on the horizon. Sunlight streams
down over her and her new master.
FADE OUT