who actually appear in these rambles, because we know youre the only one who reads them. We come into
scene with a relatively common scene, as the usual dressed down, sarcasm high, nonchalant unemployed
members of the ramble cast who go by the names Royce, Woody, Falcon, Tiger, and Pac strut down the
sidewalk, watching idly as cars fly by. Woody and Falco occasionally spew out so random grease monkey
garbage that none of the other three understand a word of, about V-8 engines, 6 cylinders, and exhaust, but
other than that it is generally silent
Tiger: So Royce... where the hell are we heading?
Royce: *Sighs* For the nineteenth million time, its a surprise. That means stop asking.
Pac: Elventy second...
Royce: *Blinks* What?
Pac: It wasnt the nineteenth million time, it was the eleventy second.
Royce: What the hell is eleventy two?
Pac: One hundred and twelve. Eleven. Two. Eleventy second.
Royce: *Sighs* Why in Gods name are we dating again?
Pac: *Stops idly at a fast food cart that has been parked on the side of the street and purchases two slices of
pizza. Theyre both dripping with cheese and grease, and are covered in pepperonis, sausage, and oregeno.
He gives one of them to Royce*
Royce: ...ah yes. *Happily munches on her pizza*
Tiger: *Shakes his head* You know, it sucks that you two are dating. Now that Pac keeps buying you
things we cant make poor jokes anymore.
Pac: *Looks uncomfortable* Uh... yeah.
*The group rounds a corner, expecting to see another stretch of sidewalk, and are instead met with a tall
gate. They look up, very cartoony reveal shot style, to see a single, horroying line, with nine gut churning
letters burnt into the wood by some 3rd grader wood scouring kit. It says: Skate park.*
Falcon: Oh *fuck* no.
Pac: ...Im inclined to agree. Oh. Fuck. No.
Royce: Oh come on! I have some friends here I havent seen in way too long!
Tiger: Thats because you met us and realized there is more intelligent life than a bunch of smoked out idiots
who weel themselves around half pipes and ramps because they fail to realize how valuable actual brain cells
can be!
Woody: ....oh, I dont know. It might not be that bad.
*All four of them look at him in surprise. Even Royce seems stunned, even though shes the only other one
who actually wants to enter.*
Tiger: ..what!?
Woody: It might not!
Falcon: ....something is wrong here. Ive personally seen you pay money just to get the oppurtunity at a
chance to sucker punch one of these tie dyed idiots.
Woody: Well... um...
Tiger: Wait a minute. Something was said here that we all missed... actually, I think I said it...
*Tiger pulls out several pieces of paper from his backpack. The other cast members are stunned to see it is
the written transcript of this very ramble*
Tiger: *Reading in a half mumbled voice* Thats because you met us and realized there is more intelligent life
than a bunch of smoked out idiots who wheel themselves around half pipes and ramps because they fail to
realize how valuable actual brain cells can be... thats it! Smoked out! Woody, you wouldnt happen to have
some business going on in here, would you?
Woody: Um... perhaps.
Tiger: *Sighs and puts his script back in his pocket* Right. Well, it looks like were going to end up going in
anyway, so should we argue?
Royce: *Blinks* ...could I have a look at those pieces of paper?
Tiger: No.
*Tiger pushes the doors of the gate open and walks inside, and after a moment of not staring, they follow
him, Woody nervously fingering a bag of something or other in his pocket. The scene is just about as grim as
they thought it would be: Twisting metal and plastic into forms of corscrews, half pipes, and ramps, the
landscape of the pop addicted idiots, the kind of people who only listen to Phish because they think its some
sort of anthem for non working idiots, despite that fact that the members of Phish all HAVE jobs*
Pac: *Looks around* Uh... I think there is actually some natural grass over there, that hasnt just been
planted for later use in recreational purposes. Should we sit down?
Tiger: *Shrugs* I dont think we have a choice, actually.
Falcon: Stop telling us shit from the script already! God damn! Its disturbing enough knowing I dont have a
choice in what Im about to do for the rest of this fucking thing, but its even worse knowing that you know
exactly what that is.
*Tiger smirks in a half cocked, arrogant way, and the group wanders over to the grass. They spread out,
Tiger leaning against a tree, Woody lying on the grass, Falcon crawls up into this weak gnarled blackened
tree and hangs from a limb, as Pac and Royce curl up on the grass. A sudden shadow falls over them*
???: Saving the word from devastation... to unit all people from within our nation... to stand for the evils of
truth and love... to extend our reach to the stars above. Jesse! Er... jesse! Team Rocket blast off at the speed
of light! Surrender now and prepare to fight!
*Leaping out from high in the tree is a girl in a tight black bellt shirt with a red R poorly spray painted on the
front. Her hair has been moused into a completely bizarre curl that drops from her head, and Kool Aid dyed
into some sickening purple shade that has never been found anywhere in nature...ever.*
Falcon: *Blinks* Oh my god... its you!
Tiger: *Seizes up and begins to hastily back up, apparently forgetting his back is to a tree.* Oh son of a
bitch...
Fangirl: Thats right! You thought I was gone, didnt you!?!? Well Fangirls never die! Theyre anime cartoons
just get cencelled!
Royce: ...you are aware that the American versions of Pokemon and Sailor Moon could not be less anime,
right?
Fangirl: SILENCE!!!
Royce: *Blinks* Excuse me?
Fangirl: I said silence!!
Tiger: Uh, Royce, it might be a good idea to listen to her...
Royce: *Glares at him* My ass. Who is this little sawed off bitch? *Royce gets to her feet and goes nose to
nose with the fangirl- well, actually, the fangirl is quite short, so its more or less nose to breast, and Pac feels
a momentary twinge of envy.*
Fangirl: I have come to re-capture my Bishonin! Stand down, vile whore!
Royce: ...your what?
Fangirl: Uh... my Bishonin!
Royce: And what the fuck is that?
Fangirl: *Blinks* Um... hot guys?
Royce: ...so why not just say that?
Fangirl: Uh... because Bishonin is Japanese!
Royce: So why dont you just speak Japanese?
Fangirl: Um... its hard. And people cant understand it.
*Royce pauses*
Royce: Then why the fuck are you using just one word that no one understands!?!?
Fangirl: .........
Fangirl: SILENCE!
*The fangirl pulls an old, familiar rod from her pocket, and points it between Royces eyes. It begins to
sparkle with electricity*
Royce: *Unimpressed* Yeah, I have one of those too. Does yours have six different vibration settings?
Fangirl: ...I hate you. Can you go away?
Royce: No. I dont want you to capture Pac. Hes warm and he buys me pizza.
Fangirl: Hm... can I capture the rest of them?
Tiger: NO!
Royce: Yes.
Tiger: Hey!
Royce: Oh shut up you wuss. What will she do?
Tiger: Make us sleep together!
Royce: *Pauses*
Royce: ....if I let you take Pac too, can I watch?
Pac: What!?
Falcon: *From the tree* Dude, you have the worst girlfriend ever...
Pac: So Im learning.
*The fangirl turns to them with her electro rod, and prepares the fire. Suddenly, a dark shape looms over
here, and there is a dull thud as a wiped out skater smashes into the fangirl with the full force of his
practically incoherent skater ass. Unable to resist portraying her annoying English dubbed character to the
fullest, she promptly goes flying several hundred feet in the air and dissapears into the sky*
Fangirl: Team Rocket is blasting off again!!
Pac: *Watching her soar through the air* ...wont the impact kill her?
Tiger: We can only hope. I unno. It never did in the cartoons.
Pac: ....you watched the cartoons?
Tiger: Um... no?
Pac: *Sighs* Look at this mother fucker... *Pac points at the limp and probably comatose body of the skater
who sent fangirl into the atmosphere* Just look at him. His form of rebelling against the sysem is frequently
wiping out on concrete in a STATE BUILT arena!
Royce: *Blinks* That was a rather abrupt subject switch...
Pac: Truth, but we have to keep this shit moving along. I mean this shit stopped being anything meaningful
when skating came out on syndicated video games and started being a fad instead of a lifestyle. Now its just
a physical manifest of masturbation.
Falcon: *Snorts* Oh come on man. Madturbation is a physical manifest of masturbation. Skating is just a
bunch of jerk offs on wheels.
Pac: ...thats exactly my point! Jerk offs on wheels! Jerk off is just another word for masturbating!
Falcon: That means jack shit. There are so many words for it its not even possible to completely avoid
reference.
Pac: ...truth. Even jacking works...
*For no reason whatsoever, Pac sits down directly acrost from Falcon, and the two of them begin to rapidly
fire off names for masturbation. As if moths to a light, Woody and Tiger slowly join the conversation*
Pac: Whacking it
Falcon: Cranking the Weasel
Pac: Punishing Petey in your Palm
Falcon: Cracking the whip
Tiger: Spanking the one eyed snake
Pac: Poundng the pud
Woody: Beating the meat
Falcon: Slamming the ham
Royce: Guys?
Pac: Arming the mushroom headed yogurt slinger
Woody: Pumping the pan handle
Royce: GUYS!?!?
Pac: ...what?
Royce: What the hell point does this have??
Pac: ...were talking about nick names for jacking off.
Royce: AND!?!?
Pac: ....
Tiger: We don’t need to explain ourselves to you.
Royce: *Stamps her foot and sighs* Come on! I want to skate!
Pac: *Blinks* You do?
Royce: Yes! I dont see my friends, so I want to skate!
Pac: ...do you even know how to skate?
Royce: I dont see how that could be revelant.
Pac: ....how COULDNT it be?
*Royce rolls her eyes and storms off in frustration towards the skate rental booth. Pac, ever the whipped
bitch, gets up and follows her. Out of nick names for spanking the monkey, flogging the dolphin, and
molesting the sea captain, Woody, Falcon, and Tiger follow. When they arrive, Royce is clumsily trying to fit
into her skates, and Pac is still ordering his*
Pac: ...look, whats so hard to understand about this?
Female Clerk: Um... maybe Im mishearing you. What size did you want?
Pac: *Sighs* Twos.
Clerk: ....nope. Didnt mishear you. Sir, I dont even think we have size twos
Pac: If you didnt have size twos, they would have just made size fives size one, and size sixes size twos. You
have size twos.
Clerk: ...I mean, I dont think we have size twos that would support you
Pac: *Glares* Look-
Clerk: Do you just have the littlest, girliest feet ever?
Pac: ....give me the fucking skates
Clerk: Your the boss. *Bends over and retrieves a pair of skates that would fit snugly on a ballerina. Pac
pops them on with minimal effort, and wobbles off*
Tiger: Size 10.
Woody: Size 11.
Falcon: Size 12.
Clerk: ....*gets them their shoes* So... is it true what they say about shoe size?
Tiger: Huh?
Clerk: You know... like big feet means...
Tiger: That you walk more steadily? Yes.
Clerk: Oh... um. Oh.
*The three take their skates and begin to walk off. Woody comments on how some Clerks are just fucking
weird. They come up to where Royce and Pac are skating- or, as some people would put it, wobbling
dangerously and clutching at each other in a vain attempt to maintain balance*
Royce: ....oi..... ugh....
Tiger: *Blinks* You mean you dont know how to skate at ALL!?
Royce: ....no.
Tiger: Jesus...
Woody: What? I cant either!
Falcon: Neither can I!
Tiger: ...where the hell were you people picking your skills up at when they handed them out? *Tiger pops
on his roller blades and glides easily around, even taking a few minor pops off of ramps while the others
struggle into theirs.*
Falcon: You know what!? *Takes off his skates and chucks them at the wall* You want to know what Im
good at? YO!
*Out of nowhere, a punk bimbo poser, aka a bleach blonde with chin length hair and a miniscule tatoo on
her shoulder who thinks shes a rebel, skates up and clings to his arm*
Falcon: See?
Tiger: ....I have been officially shown up.
Woody: God damn man.. *Woody goes to skate up to Falcon, and his skates catch with each other, sending
him tumbling hard into the ground. A small, tightly wrapped bag of green herbs goes rolling out of his
pocket, and stops an inch in front of his face* Ah fuck...
Falcon: *Blinks, and pushes the girl away* Woah...
Woody: Erm... *woody scrabbles to grab the bag. Suddenly, a skate slams down in front of his hand,
blocking his axis. Royce leans over and scoops up the bag*
Royce: Hm.... now look at this. This could lead to some entertainment.
Woody: That cost me forty bucks, give it back!
*Woody dives for the bag, Royce quickly pulls it out of the way so he goes stumbling past her. He skates
back to tackle her, and she tosses it to Pac, who catches it one handed*
Pac: My my my...
Woody: ....Ill make you a deal. You give that back, and I dont kill you.
Pac: *Idly skates over to a drain in the sidewalk* Ill make you a deal. Share and I dont dump this straight to
hell.
Woody: *Blinks* I liked you a lot better when you were poor. And single.
Pac: Well, tough shit. We got a deal?
Woody: ...fine.
Royce: Cool. *Royce skates over to Pac, then looks at Falcon and Tiger* You guys in?
Tiger: *Blinks* Uh, thats ok...
Falcon: Yeah... ditto. My mind is pretty much as fucked up as I like it at this point.
Royce: *Snorts* What, you high on life?
Tiger: Eh. More or less, Im wasted on life. Big difference.
Falcon: Aight man. You just earned yourself a punk bimbo. Yo! Yo!
*The first bimbo returns with, amazingly enough, her twin sister, who has also deluded herself into believing
shes actually taking a stand for something.*
Tiger: ....me likey.
*The four begin to wander off. Pac watches them with wide eyes, and begins to follow*
Pac: Hey! Falcon! I want one too!
Royce: ..the hell you do!! *Chases after him*
Woody: *Stares at his bag, and shrugs, puts it back in his pocket, and walks off*
*Fade to black*