Post by Adamant on Oct 5, 2010 13:01:21 GMT -5
“B-b-b-but I don’t wanna go!” Cletus shouted, as Burt proceeded down a slope. “Seriously, it’s an old abandoned lab! There’s nothing down there for you Burt!
“If Mixmaster got out, I am not going in there without a guide! Neither are Tyler and Derek! You’re the only one with knowledge of the landscape in the laboratory. And, might I add, Cletus, you also have a plethora of intelligence as to what kind of DNA the lab contained, and what Mixmaster could have been mixed with,” Burt said, putting a rifle around his arm.
Derek, the newcomer of the valley, sat out by the lab’s entrance, already opened.
Burt looked at Derek, and Tyler who was close by and said, “You two opened the lab without me here?! What if something had gotten out! The very sanctity of the valley could have been in jeopardy and you two would’ve been killed!”
Tyler looked up, and just smiled. “Ah, come on Burt. It’s not like we went in without you,” he said, shrugging his shoulders in a casual manner.
“It doesn’t matter – We have no idea what’s in there! This lab contained projects that man couldn’t even begin to fathom back in the sixties! Honestly, it’s just… not realistic! Why, wouldn’t you two wait for me?!” Burt shouted, serious as ever. Derek walked over to the power-wagon, and got up Burt’s Barret .50.
“Dibs,” he said, shouldering it with the sling. Burt’s expression went blank.
“Absolutely not! That is not a plaything! That is a-“ Burt began to rant on, before Derek cut him off.
“A Barret M82 fifty-caliber anti-material rifle. Light recoil, semi-automatic. Like I said, dibs,” he said, going up the ladder to the entrance of the lab.
Burt just dropped the subject – He knew the subject was a losing point. Derek knew how to handle the gun at least, that’s all that would be required. They probably wouldn’t have to fire it within the lab confines, so Burt put it in the back of his head. For now, rather.
Cletus, having doubts, slowly gazed on the entrance and climbed up. “The memories this place brings back,” he said, reaching the top of the latter and climbed into the tunnel. Burt assumed point, as Tyler took the right flank, and Derek the left. Cletus, however, just stayed in the back, eerily scared of the place. For a man who claimed nothing was there, Cletus was certainly having reservations about going back there again.
Burt activated the night-vision goggles on his face, and turned the Hawks hat backwards. Tyler and Derek however, just turned on flashlights and pointed them anywhere.
Burt kicked down a door on the left, and found writing on the wall. “Formulas… figured that something like this would be left around,” Cletus said, putting his hand on the wall and followed the formula to where it was nothing but scribbles.
Marching along, Burt put his back against the wall, and before he could kick that door down, Cletus shouted, “WAIT!” to the annoyance of Burt.
“Why? And why did you yell! Our position could be compromised as of now!” Burt exclaimed, unaware he was putting some volume behind his voice as well.
“Burt, that was… Four-Twelve’s birth room. I’d rather not have to face the memory of it,” Cletus said.
Derek looked puzzled, and turned to Tyler, which Tyler knew what he was about to ask. “Don’t ask – I’ll explain a different time, Derek,” Tyler said, which was enough for Derek to stay quiet. Derek wasn’t familiar with the events of when Four-Twelve went on the loose. Burt was becoming less enchanted with the lab, and more on what his eye was beholding.
“Cletus, what’s this?” Burt asked pointing at some device with two screens, but they were blank. Possibly turned off.
“Ah, Burt. That’s the translation device; however, not just a translation device for language. It was designed to translate foreign species, in this instance, anything non-humanoid, and allow for communication. It was designed to better several war efforts, such as when dogs were used in the Vietnam war to sniff out enemy soldiers. It was designed to where they could easily translate what the animal was saying, and have a conversation back. Somehow, it worked too,” Cletus said, smiling. Somehow, the three picked-up hints that Cletus was somehow involved with that device.
Burt looked at him, and got a look of disbelief on himself and spouted back. “…You really expect me to believe that… Translation device actually worked?!” Burt said, laughing to himself, while Cletus got into a grimacing smile.
“Burt, we were a bunch of bio-technological engineers dabbling with foreign chemicals you couldn’t hope to make with your local Walmart chemistry set. We made Mixmaster, which allowed us to combine other species DNA and for them to live. While almost all were killed at birth, some, such as Four-Twelve, somehow lived beyond this. I’m pretty sure a device that can read an animals brainwaves and allow for it to translate the thought patterns into our language, are rather astronomically better than Mixmaster being concocted. Oh wait, we did. So I am pretty sure it does work.”
Burt took Cletus’ point, accepted that Cletus was right, and grabbed it. “Let’s take this back. I think somehow this is better to keep at my compound then in the abandoned lab.”
Tyler replied, “Burt! What about the rest of the lab!” He shouted, as he pointed down the hallway.
“We’ll come back. I don’t want to investigate this place all at once. I’d rather come back when I can devote more time. It’s almost nineteen-hundred hours,” Burt said, walking back to the beginning. He was acting rather funny, for Burt even. Normally, he’d want to tear the laboratory down. However, Tyler also saw the point in his statement as well – Burt spent several months looking for the laboratory, and it does make sense to take one section at a time. Slowly, but still going through it thoroughly.
The party then followed Burt out of the lab, who had Tyler and Derek close the bulkhead door, to allow everything to remain untouched by anyone who was hiking and would find their way in the lab. Tyler wondered why Burt had been acting so strangely
Nancy Sterngood, the ceramic sculpture artist in the valley, was on a computer within her house. As evidenced by most of society, she was on the internet, but Nancy was in a chat room.
Having a chat with someone regularly, Nancy’s internet “friend” had come online yet again. The chat was as follows:
NSTGD03: Hey, how’re you?
UZI4U: Um, I’m… Great, great. Just got back from a little cave diving. How about you?
NSTGD03: Ha, I’m doing lovely. Sounds exciting, cave diving and all. How was your weekend?
UZI4U: My weekend was actually rather exciting. I managed to buy a new gun. .357 Magnum. Want the model number for it?
NSTGD03: Hmm… No thank you. I’m rather good on that. I have enough firearm facts thrown at me by a close friend of mine.
UZI4U: A close friend of yours? Does he like firearms?
NSTGD03: Oh god, it’s all he LIVES for! I mean, he’s pigheaded in his beliefs, but him and I have been in a lot of situations together. We clash heads, rather often. I mean a lot, to be honest. Our views on subjects always clash and hardly ever coexist peacefully. It usually leads to a verbal debate to flat argument with each other. However, Uzi, he is one of the best friends I have ever had.
UZI4U: He sounds like he doesn’t confide well in others his personal feelings and socialize with you often. Does he usually stop by for a visit or at least a check-up on you?
NSTGD03: Why yes of course he does! I mean, he isn’t the most social friendly by any stretch of the imagination. He does, however… Care, about us. Deep down. He does what he can for the better of us. He protects us all, and puts his life on the line quite often just too protect our home. Uzi, I have a question for you.
UZI4U: By all means; It is your right as an American citizen to ask. It’s my right to choose so not to answer however. Yet I can’t do that to you so easily.
NSTGD03: Haha, thank you. Do you care about other people?
UZI4U: Well… Yeah, but it’s kind of a touchy subject. I’m just not very good with people, but I’m good with immediate townsfolk that I have known throughout the battlefield for years. Our numbers since the original group have dwindled, leaving me and one other person, but if you want to count a little jackass I don’t like, then three.
NSTGD03: That is very strange… you remind me a lot of this man I know. The man I have been telling you about. How often do I cross through your head... Uzi?
UZI4U: Well… I uh, I mean… You are sounding a lot like a comrade of mine as well! Haha. You cross through my head rather often, 03, I just… Don’t know how to say it.
NSTGD03: I like talking to you, Uzi. I really do. You cross through mine quite often. If only I had met you in reality. My ex-husband would probably get jealous of you. I was once married, you know. I have a kid now, but their off to college. I don’t see much of them anymore, but I see my kid more than my husband.
UZI4U: I have an ex-wife too. The loss of a loved one is never easy. I love my ex-wife, and I always shall. Her leaving me, was a devastating impact to my solitary lifestyle. I tried to be more open minded. The loss of her taught me how to be a better person. No, how to WANT to be a better person. Her loss opened my eyes to my broad view of the world, and how it was coming downhill. I realize now, that it wasn’t that she didn’t love me anymore, but it was honestly that I screwed up our marriage with my paranoia. I try to be more open minded, but… I just… I’m sorry, I can’t keep going.
NSTGD03: It’s okay, I truly understand. My ex-husband wasn’t willing to move with me, and wouldn’t go with me anywhere near this town I live in. It’s very small, but it’s what I wanted, and he didn’t follow me. I wasn’t willing to make myself unhappy for someone else, just because he laughed at my dream of living out here to eke out a living.
UZI4U: Hm, this is very interesting.
NSTGD03: Uzi, I love talking too you. It makes me feel better. And it inspires me with hope, that maybe there is someone out there one day that I can meet to help with my beliefs, and too share with them. It gives me hope more than even my friend.
UZI4U: Well, same here. I prefer conversing with you, compared to the internet morons who use poor sentence structure and informal grammar.
NSTGD03: You don’t get what I’m saying, Uzi, do you?
UZI4U: No, what?
NSTGD03: ... Promise me you won’t think this is weird?
UZI4U: Trust me, if you knew what I lived with every day, you wouldn’t think much of anything could be considered “weird” to me.
NSTGD03: Okay, here it goes… I think… Well, you cross my mind every day. I mean, we’ve only known each other for a month or two, but I can honestly say your one of the only people I can feel on a spiritual level with, even though we don’t have the same beliefs. You listen to me, you hear me out, and you counsel me on my daily stress levels. This one time at-night deal, truly makes my day and gives me hope that maybe I’m not as hapless as I thought long ago.
UZI4U: Are you trying to say you love me?
NSTGD03: No, because I’ve never met you in reality! What I’m saying though, is that I guess you could say I really like you..?
UZI4U: Hm. Well, I don’t know how to respond to this little impact.
NSTGD03: If you don’t, then I understand. I really do, I mean I’m not your most normal human being.
UZI4U: HAHA! Trust me, I’m not normal either. Whether or not I do, I don’t know how to say…
NSTGD03: Why not start by telling me how talking to me has affected you, and what you think of talking to me and what the result has been?
UZI4U: Very well.
I don’t open up to people very well, and you not being a major exception, still gain more knowledge of my insight then anyone in my town. I consider you a very level headed and reasonable human being. However, you talking with me has been… Changing. I have tried to be more reasonable with my vocabulary context and when I implement sufficient, but yet reasonable words, to fit any situation. I try to dumb myself down so I have an easier time conversing with people.
NSTGD03: Do you like me? A yes or no is what I want.
UZI4U had to think before he sent a reply, and he was quite reluctant to confide with 03 this knowledge
UZI4U: Yes. I do. I swear on it.
NSTGD03: What’s your name, Uzi? Can you at least give me that?
UZI4U had to hesitate, debating in his head whether or not too give it out.
UZI4U: I don’t know how I would feel about giving my real name out on the internet…
NSTGD03: It’s easy! Look, my real name is Nanceline! See? It doesn’t mean I’m asking for your zip code or social security number! Now that one guy I told you about, he is REALLY paranoid about that.
UZI4U: Well, against my better judgment, I guess I can disclose that information. My real name is… Bertram.
NSTGD03: See, that wasn’t so hard.
UZI4U: If you say so…
NSTGD03: Okay, well, I better get going off to bed. Goodnight, Bertram!
UZI4U: Goodnight.
UZI4U, or Bertram, was hesitant to say anything more. Despite 03, Nanceline rather, despite the trust he had of others, Bertram felt… More trustful of her than a lot of other people. He was having a hard time just saying goodnight in the caring friendly way, since the two just broke new ground on the friendship they had. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but then worked up the will against his own mindset to do it. His lifestyle was changing, and Nanceline was influencing that. That was a sign that he was beginning to have an affection for her.
[NSTGD03 has now signed off]
UZI4U: Goodnight, Nanceline….
Burt, who was now quite cozy in his bed, woke up to an alarming voice heard over the radio.
“Burt! BURT! I need your help!” Nancy screamed on the radio, as Burt rolled out of bed and scoured his nightstand for the walkie-talkie.
“Burt here. Nancy, what’s wrong? Over,” Burt said, doing his usual militaristic radio speech.
“I left my kiln running overnight, and… I guess El Blanco managed to sense the vibrations it sent out! I was barely able to get out of my house before Tyler sent a concussion grenade from his jeep towards my house, but it was too late!” She screeched, much to Burt’s annoyance.
“Nancy, what are you saying? I don’t get what this is leading up too! Over,” he said, looking confused. Burt stumbled up too his feet, and begin to put his clothes on, and get into his tactical gear. Grabbing his Barret, he sense that if this involved El Blanco, the situation would call for it. Before Nancy replied, Burt got his hat on and put the sunglasses on. Now, Burt was ready to stroll onto the “battlefield” in Gummer fashion.
“Burt! El Blanco ripped my house apart!” Nancy replied, as she began to cry. Burt was worried. Nancy and him had butted heads through the years, but they were friends, and by god, Burt was concerned. Nancy was the closest thing to a best friend Burt had, and they felt the same about the other. In more ways than they knew, too. “Tyler and Jodi are talking to Twitchell. I don’t want to go in there. You know, with his attitude and my state of mind, I couldn’t handle him right now,” she said, holding her voice together long enough. “I don’t want El Blanco to come back through…” She said, not sounding like her usual self.
Burt’s only logical deduction was that after living in coexistence with El Blanco, the vicious Graboid whom was protected by the government and the only thing from stopping Melvin into turning Perfection into Melville, Nevada. To reason, the relaxing feeling even with El Blanco around made Nancy forget how much of a threat El Blanco actually was. Nancy felt, to Burt at least, that El Blanco was on a more equal ground since the townsfolk, Burt included, had been able to implement gear to make the lifestyle as safe as could be, but that didn’t mean that they had tamed El Blanco not to attack them. They just knew ways to null any chance of him attacking them by any stretch of the means. And Nancy had just been reminded what a Graboid was capable of doing to any of the buildings in Perfection, except Burt’s place. Now, Nancy was more than likely scared out of her mind.
“Nancy, sit tight. I’m on my way, Burt out,” he said, putting his voice into a lax state, trying to calm her down. If he strolled up there barking out military terms, she wouldn’t be able to handle that. She didn’t deserve that, now more than ever.
Nancy didn’t say anything, and Burt got to town within ten minutes, which is usually the time it takes his cautious driving to get himself too town.
Nancy ran up to Burt, tears in her eyes. He looked around, making sure the others weren’t looking, before he spoke. Nancy, however, spoke first.
“It was my home! It had everything… My kiln, all my ceramics, everything… I have nothing, Burt!” She said, burying her face in his shirt. Feeling weird, Burt always had a moment where he spoke too others on a more level, spiritual base, just for reinforcing them, but it usually wasn’t intentional.
“Listen, Nancy. It’s not over, you can always restart. It may be tough, but you’ve got us all hear, willing to help you. Just do what you can with what you have. Pick up the debris from the destruction, and find a new spot. Start a new, and start over,” he said, hesitant, as Burt placed his hands on Nancy’s shoulders and patted them, trying to cheer her up.
“Burt, see, that’s what makes you different from us. You can easily start over when the Ass Blaster’s blew up your house before. You know how to survive off the land and fend for yourself against all these creatures. I don’t even have shelter from the damn sun anymore!” she said, not willing to face Burt, which highly angered him. “I’m not as self-sufficient as you, and I can’t ever hope to be!”
“Now you listen to me, Nancy,” Burt said, as she looked up to him. “You are the only person in town willing to stand up to me and my weapons, even though anyone knows I refuse to point my firearms against another being. You never give up in any situation, and your always willing to hear the side of any story that I find irrational and illogically possible. You give people that I never give, a chance to be heard in their defense. You can start over. It’s not the end,” he said, now extending the shoulder pat to a full on embrace, to try and get her calm.
“Burt, I don’t even have a place to stay! And what’s to stop El Blanco from coming up underground wherever I go! And don’t say he doesn’t hold grudges. You know how he feels about you. He would leave anything just to have a chance to eat you, and you know that!” Nancy said, trying to prove a point, but Burt didn’t see what she was trying to prove beyond that little fact.
“Nancy, if you’re really afraid of El Blanco… Until you can calm your fear of Graboids down to a suitable level…” he said, as his jaw stuttered. What Burt was about to say, would never, under any circumstances, be offered out casually.
“You can stay at my place. If it will make you feel better there,” he said, trying to force a smile for Nancy’s sake.
“You really mean it, Burt? You wouldn’t care about my stuff being in your bunk?” She asked, as he took a second to reply.
“Yes, I mean it. Just cheer up and don’t let this get to you,” he said, letting her go, as Tyler, Twitchell, and Jodie were coming out of Chang’s.
Twitchell approached forward, with a look of guilt on his face. Tyler and Jodi weren’t being down on him, so something was up. “Listen, uh, Nancy…. I’ve done everything I can, and I can’t get insurance or anything on this situation.”
Nancy looked up, and goes, “What are you saying?”, to which Twitchell replied to her question.
“Well, my superiors would probably learn about this if I filed a report, and then they would automatically deem the valley uninhabitable and a threat to you all. Now, I could do that, but I know you folks don’t want me to let that happen. The most I can do is offer you a new construction spot or something, and wait for your house to be built again. I just can’t allow for it to have any compensation for the valuables inside…” he said, regretfully.
“Nancy, really, I’m sorry. I can’t do anything about this one. The result would be you all being evicted. The decision wouldn’t be up to me, and my bosses would put a halt on any further living out here, and then you’d all be living somewhere else,” he said, as his eyes couldn’t bear to look at her own.
“…It’s okay, Twitchell, I understand….” Nancy said. “I’m rooming at Burt’s place until I can get off my feet again,” she continued, as Burt put on his sunglasses to avoid the staring from Jodi and Tyler, and even Twitchell, whom were all very shocked to hear that bit of news.
“I’ll just go get my stuff,” she said, as she began to resemble a broken woman, who had nothing in the world. Twitchell’s response also shocked everybody, as he followed.
“The least I can do is help you get your things, Nancy. I owe you that much,” he said, as he avoided looking at anyone, even her. Twitchell rarely displayed his emotions of caring too the Perfection citizens, but he did so every now-and-then, which now was no exception.
“Thank you, Twitchell…”
The basic premise of this is that I made a fan wrote second season a few years ago, and developed off what the Tremors FAQ said on Stampede’s site. You’ll notice that, if I were to post up the rest of the “episodes”, or documents in this case, a few of the ideas were carried over. Derek is a new character, by the way, who was brought into Perfection between season one and two. I wrote an origin episode for him as well.
This was moreover a first-episode of the season, establishing several plots throughout this season that I feel would've been explored... I also tried to focus on Mixmaster more this season than the television series itself did, but still allowed the good ol' worms and it's offspring to be the focus just as equally. I feel though, that Mixmaster wasn't explored in depth and had a lot more potential to be fleshed out.
“If Mixmaster got out, I am not going in there without a guide! Neither are Tyler and Derek! You’re the only one with knowledge of the landscape in the laboratory. And, might I add, Cletus, you also have a plethora of intelligence as to what kind of DNA the lab contained, and what Mixmaster could have been mixed with,” Burt said, putting a rifle around his arm.
Derek, the newcomer of the valley, sat out by the lab’s entrance, already opened.
Burt looked at Derek, and Tyler who was close by and said, “You two opened the lab without me here?! What if something had gotten out! The very sanctity of the valley could have been in jeopardy and you two would’ve been killed!”
Tyler looked up, and just smiled. “Ah, come on Burt. It’s not like we went in without you,” he said, shrugging his shoulders in a casual manner.
“It doesn’t matter – We have no idea what’s in there! This lab contained projects that man couldn’t even begin to fathom back in the sixties! Honestly, it’s just… not realistic! Why, wouldn’t you two wait for me?!” Burt shouted, serious as ever. Derek walked over to the power-wagon, and got up Burt’s Barret .50.
“Dibs,” he said, shouldering it with the sling. Burt’s expression went blank.
“Absolutely not! That is not a plaything! That is a-“ Burt began to rant on, before Derek cut him off.
“A Barret M82 fifty-caliber anti-material rifle. Light recoil, semi-automatic. Like I said, dibs,” he said, going up the ladder to the entrance of the lab.
Burt just dropped the subject – He knew the subject was a losing point. Derek knew how to handle the gun at least, that’s all that would be required. They probably wouldn’t have to fire it within the lab confines, so Burt put it in the back of his head. For now, rather.
Cletus, having doubts, slowly gazed on the entrance and climbed up. “The memories this place brings back,” he said, reaching the top of the latter and climbed into the tunnel. Burt assumed point, as Tyler took the right flank, and Derek the left. Cletus, however, just stayed in the back, eerily scared of the place. For a man who claimed nothing was there, Cletus was certainly having reservations about going back there again.
Burt activated the night-vision goggles on his face, and turned the Hawks hat backwards. Tyler and Derek however, just turned on flashlights and pointed them anywhere.
Burt kicked down a door on the left, and found writing on the wall. “Formulas… figured that something like this would be left around,” Cletus said, putting his hand on the wall and followed the formula to where it was nothing but scribbles.
Marching along, Burt put his back against the wall, and before he could kick that door down, Cletus shouted, “WAIT!” to the annoyance of Burt.
“Why? And why did you yell! Our position could be compromised as of now!” Burt exclaimed, unaware he was putting some volume behind his voice as well.
“Burt, that was… Four-Twelve’s birth room. I’d rather not have to face the memory of it,” Cletus said.
Derek looked puzzled, and turned to Tyler, which Tyler knew what he was about to ask. “Don’t ask – I’ll explain a different time, Derek,” Tyler said, which was enough for Derek to stay quiet. Derek wasn’t familiar with the events of when Four-Twelve went on the loose. Burt was becoming less enchanted with the lab, and more on what his eye was beholding.
“Cletus, what’s this?” Burt asked pointing at some device with two screens, but they were blank. Possibly turned off.
“Ah, Burt. That’s the translation device; however, not just a translation device for language. It was designed to translate foreign species, in this instance, anything non-humanoid, and allow for communication. It was designed to better several war efforts, such as when dogs were used in the Vietnam war to sniff out enemy soldiers. It was designed to where they could easily translate what the animal was saying, and have a conversation back. Somehow, it worked too,” Cletus said, smiling. Somehow, the three picked-up hints that Cletus was somehow involved with that device.
Burt looked at him, and got a look of disbelief on himself and spouted back. “…You really expect me to believe that… Translation device actually worked?!” Burt said, laughing to himself, while Cletus got into a grimacing smile.
“Burt, we were a bunch of bio-technological engineers dabbling with foreign chemicals you couldn’t hope to make with your local Walmart chemistry set. We made Mixmaster, which allowed us to combine other species DNA and for them to live. While almost all were killed at birth, some, such as Four-Twelve, somehow lived beyond this. I’m pretty sure a device that can read an animals brainwaves and allow for it to translate the thought patterns into our language, are rather astronomically better than Mixmaster being concocted. Oh wait, we did. So I am pretty sure it does work.”
Burt took Cletus’ point, accepted that Cletus was right, and grabbed it. “Let’s take this back. I think somehow this is better to keep at my compound then in the abandoned lab.”
Tyler replied, “Burt! What about the rest of the lab!” He shouted, as he pointed down the hallway.
“We’ll come back. I don’t want to investigate this place all at once. I’d rather come back when I can devote more time. It’s almost nineteen-hundred hours,” Burt said, walking back to the beginning. He was acting rather funny, for Burt even. Normally, he’d want to tear the laboratory down. However, Tyler also saw the point in his statement as well – Burt spent several months looking for the laboratory, and it does make sense to take one section at a time. Slowly, but still going through it thoroughly.
The party then followed Burt out of the lab, who had Tyler and Derek close the bulkhead door, to allow everything to remain untouched by anyone who was hiking and would find their way in the lab. Tyler wondered why Burt had been acting so strangely
Nancy Sterngood, the ceramic sculpture artist in the valley, was on a computer within her house. As evidenced by most of society, she was on the internet, but Nancy was in a chat room.
Having a chat with someone regularly, Nancy’s internet “friend” had come online yet again. The chat was as follows:
NSTGD03: Hey, how’re you?
UZI4U: Um, I’m… Great, great. Just got back from a little cave diving. How about you?
NSTGD03: Ha, I’m doing lovely. Sounds exciting, cave diving and all. How was your weekend?
UZI4U: My weekend was actually rather exciting. I managed to buy a new gun. .357 Magnum. Want the model number for it?
NSTGD03: Hmm… No thank you. I’m rather good on that. I have enough firearm facts thrown at me by a close friend of mine.
UZI4U: A close friend of yours? Does he like firearms?
NSTGD03: Oh god, it’s all he LIVES for! I mean, he’s pigheaded in his beliefs, but him and I have been in a lot of situations together. We clash heads, rather often. I mean a lot, to be honest. Our views on subjects always clash and hardly ever coexist peacefully. It usually leads to a verbal debate to flat argument with each other. However, Uzi, he is one of the best friends I have ever had.
UZI4U: He sounds like he doesn’t confide well in others his personal feelings and socialize with you often. Does he usually stop by for a visit or at least a check-up on you?
NSTGD03: Why yes of course he does! I mean, he isn’t the most social friendly by any stretch of the imagination. He does, however… Care, about us. Deep down. He does what he can for the better of us. He protects us all, and puts his life on the line quite often just too protect our home. Uzi, I have a question for you.
UZI4U: By all means; It is your right as an American citizen to ask. It’s my right to choose so not to answer however. Yet I can’t do that to you so easily.
NSTGD03: Haha, thank you. Do you care about other people?
UZI4U: Well… Yeah, but it’s kind of a touchy subject. I’m just not very good with people, but I’m good with immediate townsfolk that I have known throughout the battlefield for years. Our numbers since the original group have dwindled, leaving me and one other person, but if you want to count a little jackass I don’t like, then three.
NSTGD03: That is very strange… you remind me a lot of this man I know. The man I have been telling you about. How often do I cross through your head... Uzi?
UZI4U: Well… I uh, I mean… You are sounding a lot like a comrade of mine as well! Haha. You cross through my head rather often, 03, I just… Don’t know how to say it.
NSTGD03: I like talking to you, Uzi. I really do. You cross through mine quite often. If only I had met you in reality. My ex-husband would probably get jealous of you. I was once married, you know. I have a kid now, but their off to college. I don’t see much of them anymore, but I see my kid more than my husband.
UZI4U: I have an ex-wife too. The loss of a loved one is never easy. I love my ex-wife, and I always shall. Her leaving me, was a devastating impact to my solitary lifestyle. I tried to be more open minded. The loss of her taught me how to be a better person. No, how to WANT to be a better person. Her loss opened my eyes to my broad view of the world, and how it was coming downhill. I realize now, that it wasn’t that she didn’t love me anymore, but it was honestly that I screwed up our marriage with my paranoia. I try to be more open minded, but… I just… I’m sorry, I can’t keep going.
NSTGD03: It’s okay, I truly understand. My ex-husband wasn’t willing to move with me, and wouldn’t go with me anywhere near this town I live in. It’s very small, but it’s what I wanted, and he didn’t follow me. I wasn’t willing to make myself unhappy for someone else, just because he laughed at my dream of living out here to eke out a living.
UZI4U: Hm, this is very interesting.
NSTGD03: Uzi, I love talking too you. It makes me feel better. And it inspires me with hope, that maybe there is someone out there one day that I can meet to help with my beliefs, and too share with them. It gives me hope more than even my friend.
UZI4U: Well, same here. I prefer conversing with you, compared to the internet morons who use poor sentence structure and informal grammar.
NSTGD03: You don’t get what I’m saying, Uzi, do you?
UZI4U: No, what?
NSTGD03: ... Promise me you won’t think this is weird?
UZI4U: Trust me, if you knew what I lived with every day, you wouldn’t think much of anything could be considered “weird” to me.
NSTGD03: Okay, here it goes… I think… Well, you cross my mind every day. I mean, we’ve only known each other for a month or two, but I can honestly say your one of the only people I can feel on a spiritual level with, even though we don’t have the same beliefs. You listen to me, you hear me out, and you counsel me on my daily stress levels. This one time at-night deal, truly makes my day and gives me hope that maybe I’m not as hapless as I thought long ago.
UZI4U: Are you trying to say you love me?
NSTGD03: No, because I’ve never met you in reality! What I’m saying though, is that I guess you could say I really like you..?
UZI4U: Hm. Well, I don’t know how to respond to this little impact.
NSTGD03: If you don’t, then I understand. I really do, I mean I’m not your most normal human being.
UZI4U: HAHA! Trust me, I’m not normal either. Whether or not I do, I don’t know how to say…
NSTGD03: Why not start by telling me how talking to me has affected you, and what you think of talking to me and what the result has been?
UZI4U: Very well.
I don’t open up to people very well, and you not being a major exception, still gain more knowledge of my insight then anyone in my town. I consider you a very level headed and reasonable human being. However, you talking with me has been… Changing. I have tried to be more reasonable with my vocabulary context and when I implement sufficient, but yet reasonable words, to fit any situation. I try to dumb myself down so I have an easier time conversing with people.
NSTGD03: Do you like me? A yes or no is what I want.
UZI4U had to think before he sent a reply, and he was quite reluctant to confide with 03 this knowledge
UZI4U: Yes. I do. I swear on it.
NSTGD03: What’s your name, Uzi? Can you at least give me that?
UZI4U had to hesitate, debating in his head whether or not too give it out.
UZI4U: I don’t know how I would feel about giving my real name out on the internet…
NSTGD03: It’s easy! Look, my real name is Nanceline! See? It doesn’t mean I’m asking for your zip code or social security number! Now that one guy I told you about, he is REALLY paranoid about that.
UZI4U: Well, against my better judgment, I guess I can disclose that information. My real name is… Bertram.
NSTGD03: See, that wasn’t so hard.
UZI4U: If you say so…
NSTGD03: Okay, well, I better get going off to bed. Goodnight, Bertram!
UZI4U: Goodnight.
UZI4U, or Bertram, was hesitant to say anything more. Despite 03, Nanceline rather, despite the trust he had of others, Bertram felt… More trustful of her than a lot of other people. He was having a hard time just saying goodnight in the caring friendly way, since the two just broke new ground on the friendship they had. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but then worked up the will against his own mindset to do it. His lifestyle was changing, and Nanceline was influencing that. That was a sign that he was beginning to have an affection for her.
[NSTGD03 has now signed off]
UZI4U: Goodnight, Nanceline….
Burt, who was now quite cozy in his bed, woke up to an alarming voice heard over the radio.
“Burt! BURT! I need your help!” Nancy screamed on the radio, as Burt rolled out of bed and scoured his nightstand for the walkie-talkie.
“Burt here. Nancy, what’s wrong? Over,” Burt said, doing his usual militaristic radio speech.
“I left my kiln running overnight, and… I guess El Blanco managed to sense the vibrations it sent out! I was barely able to get out of my house before Tyler sent a concussion grenade from his jeep towards my house, but it was too late!” She screeched, much to Burt’s annoyance.
“Nancy, what are you saying? I don’t get what this is leading up too! Over,” he said, looking confused. Burt stumbled up too his feet, and begin to put his clothes on, and get into his tactical gear. Grabbing his Barret, he sense that if this involved El Blanco, the situation would call for it. Before Nancy replied, Burt got his hat on and put the sunglasses on. Now, Burt was ready to stroll onto the “battlefield” in Gummer fashion.
“Burt! El Blanco ripped my house apart!” Nancy replied, as she began to cry. Burt was worried. Nancy and him had butted heads through the years, but they were friends, and by god, Burt was concerned. Nancy was the closest thing to a best friend Burt had, and they felt the same about the other. In more ways than they knew, too. “Tyler and Jodi are talking to Twitchell. I don’t want to go in there. You know, with his attitude and my state of mind, I couldn’t handle him right now,” she said, holding her voice together long enough. “I don’t want El Blanco to come back through…” She said, not sounding like her usual self.
Burt’s only logical deduction was that after living in coexistence with El Blanco, the vicious Graboid whom was protected by the government and the only thing from stopping Melvin into turning Perfection into Melville, Nevada. To reason, the relaxing feeling even with El Blanco around made Nancy forget how much of a threat El Blanco actually was. Nancy felt, to Burt at least, that El Blanco was on a more equal ground since the townsfolk, Burt included, had been able to implement gear to make the lifestyle as safe as could be, but that didn’t mean that they had tamed El Blanco not to attack them. They just knew ways to null any chance of him attacking them by any stretch of the means. And Nancy had just been reminded what a Graboid was capable of doing to any of the buildings in Perfection, except Burt’s place. Now, Nancy was more than likely scared out of her mind.
“Nancy, sit tight. I’m on my way, Burt out,” he said, putting his voice into a lax state, trying to calm her down. If he strolled up there barking out military terms, she wouldn’t be able to handle that. She didn’t deserve that, now more than ever.
Nancy didn’t say anything, and Burt got to town within ten minutes, which is usually the time it takes his cautious driving to get himself too town.
Nancy ran up to Burt, tears in her eyes. He looked around, making sure the others weren’t looking, before he spoke. Nancy, however, spoke first.
“It was my home! It had everything… My kiln, all my ceramics, everything… I have nothing, Burt!” She said, burying her face in his shirt. Feeling weird, Burt always had a moment where he spoke too others on a more level, spiritual base, just for reinforcing them, but it usually wasn’t intentional.
“Listen, Nancy. It’s not over, you can always restart. It may be tough, but you’ve got us all hear, willing to help you. Just do what you can with what you have. Pick up the debris from the destruction, and find a new spot. Start a new, and start over,” he said, hesitant, as Burt placed his hands on Nancy’s shoulders and patted them, trying to cheer her up.
“Burt, see, that’s what makes you different from us. You can easily start over when the Ass Blaster’s blew up your house before. You know how to survive off the land and fend for yourself against all these creatures. I don’t even have shelter from the damn sun anymore!” she said, not willing to face Burt, which highly angered him. “I’m not as self-sufficient as you, and I can’t ever hope to be!”
“Now you listen to me, Nancy,” Burt said, as she looked up to him. “You are the only person in town willing to stand up to me and my weapons, even though anyone knows I refuse to point my firearms against another being. You never give up in any situation, and your always willing to hear the side of any story that I find irrational and illogically possible. You give people that I never give, a chance to be heard in their defense. You can start over. It’s not the end,” he said, now extending the shoulder pat to a full on embrace, to try and get her calm.
“Burt, I don’t even have a place to stay! And what’s to stop El Blanco from coming up underground wherever I go! And don’t say he doesn’t hold grudges. You know how he feels about you. He would leave anything just to have a chance to eat you, and you know that!” Nancy said, trying to prove a point, but Burt didn’t see what she was trying to prove beyond that little fact.
“Nancy, if you’re really afraid of El Blanco… Until you can calm your fear of Graboids down to a suitable level…” he said, as his jaw stuttered. What Burt was about to say, would never, under any circumstances, be offered out casually.
“You can stay at my place. If it will make you feel better there,” he said, trying to force a smile for Nancy’s sake.
“You really mean it, Burt? You wouldn’t care about my stuff being in your bunk?” She asked, as he took a second to reply.
“Yes, I mean it. Just cheer up and don’t let this get to you,” he said, letting her go, as Tyler, Twitchell, and Jodie were coming out of Chang’s.
Twitchell approached forward, with a look of guilt on his face. Tyler and Jodi weren’t being down on him, so something was up. “Listen, uh, Nancy…. I’ve done everything I can, and I can’t get insurance or anything on this situation.”
Nancy looked up, and goes, “What are you saying?”, to which Twitchell replied to her question.
“Well, my superiors would probably learn about this if I filed a report, and then they would automatically deem the valley uninhabitable and a threat to you all. Now, I could do that, but I know you folks don’t want me to let that happen. The most I can do is offer you a new construction spot or something, and wait for your house to be built again. I just can’t allow for it to have any compensation for the valuables inside…” he said, regretfully.
“Nancy, really, I’m sorry. I can’t do anything about this one. The result would be you all being evicted. The decision wouldn’t be up to me, and my bosses would put a halt on any further living out here, and then you’d all be living somewhere else,” he said, as his eyes couldn’t bear to look at her own.
“…It’s okay, Twitchell, I understand….” Nancy said. “I’m rooming at Burt’s place until I can get off my feet again,” she continued, as Burt put on his sunglasses to avoid the staring from Jodi and Tyler, and even Twitchell, whom were all very shocked to hear that bit of news.
“I’ll just go get my stuff,” she said, as she began to resemble a broken woman, who had nothing in the world. Twitchell’s response also shocked everybody, as he followed.
“The least I can do is help you get your things, Nancy. I owe you that much,” he said, as he avoided looking at anyone, even her. Twitchell rarely displayed his emotions of caring too the Perfection citizens, but he did so every now-and-then, which now was no exception.
“Thank you, Twitchell…”
The basic premise of this is that I made a fan wrote second season a few years ago, and developed off what the Tremors FAQ said on Stampede’s site. You’ll notice that, if I were to post up the rest of the “episodes”, or documents in this case, a few of the ideas were carried over. Derek is a new character, by the way, who was brought into Perfection between season one and two. I wrote an origin episode for him as well.
This was moreover a first-episode of the season, establishing several plots throughout this season that I feel would've been explored... I also tried to focus on Mixmaster more this season than the television series itself did, but still allowed the good ol' worms and it's offspring to be the focus just as equally. I feel though, that Mixmaster wasn't explored in depth and had a lot more potential to be fleshed out.