Work Text:
FADE IN:
THE BIG GARAGE - EVENING
We pan through the BIG GARAGE’S door, through the bleachers, past the pitcher’s mound, and into the LOCKER ROOM, where an exhausted MIKE TOWNSEND sits on a bench. The LOCKER ROOM is otherwise empty.
MIKE is a small and dejected man in his late twenties. He wears a Seattle Garages uniform, one that is dirty and tattered in places.
Enter JAYLEN HOTDOGFINGERS, the Seattle Garages star pitcher. JAYLEN is a brown woman with black hair, up in a high ponytail and tucked into a blaseball cap. She wears the same uniform as MIKE.
JAYLEN
Hey Mike! Teams outside, if you wanna watch the elections with us?
MIKE shrugs
I guess. Nothing good ever happens at elections.
JAYLEN
Nothing good ever happens in Blaseball, Mikey! C’mon, they’re the first elections since the League’s revival!
MIKE
Alright. Should I bring my breakfast basket? I put a bow on it and everything…
We pan over to a small BREAKFAST BASKET full of untouched food sitting beside MIKE on the bench. It does, in fact, have a bow on it and everything.
JAYLEN
You made food? Yes, gods, Mike, bring that out! Everyone loves your baking!
JAYLEN takes a piece of bread off the top of the basket and rushes outside the LOCKER ROOM into the BIG GARAGE’S TEAM BUNKS
MIKE
I always make food…
MIKE follows her out, carrying the BREAKFAST BASKET
Outside the LOCKER ROOM, the team is arranged in a semi-circle around the wall-mounted TV, currently showing static, some sitting on the couch, some on the floor, a few milling around the sparse TEAM-KITCHEN. ALLISON ABBOT, a blonde woman and star batter for the Garages, gives MIKE a nod as he walks in, the rest of the team gives various greetings to JAYLEN.
As MIKE and JAYLEN sit, the TV abruptly cuts from the unending static to a nervous looking COMMISSIONER PARKER MACMILLIAN III, He looks young - a teenager, maybe, in a poorly fitting suit standing at a lectern, and there’s an incredibly thick layer of static laid over the image. His voice is fading in and out.
COMMISSIONER MACMILLIAN, over the tv
Uh, voting has concluded in Season One Blaseball Elections. First, um, I will go over the blessings-
The TV’S screen depicts several other team icons, such as the Baltimore Crabs, Yellowstone Magic, and Kansas City Breath Mints. The Seattle Garages are not on the list. Seeing this, JAYLEN stands and starts giving a speech.
JAYLEN
Alright everyone, we all know that we had a bad first season.
(There are a few snickers, but THEODORE DUENDE, team captain, shuts them up with a sharp “SHH!”)
JAYLEN, continuing
But that’s no reason to despair. We’ve got who knows how many seasons ahead of us together, and we’re playing with the top blaseball teams in the world. Even if we didn’t manage to win this time, just being here, winning even one game, was incredible, let alone placing fifth in the league.
(As she is speaking, PARKER MACMILLIAN finishes rattling off blessings, and says “N-now for the decrees- “)
JAYLEN
We did amazing! And next time, I just know it, we’re gonna make it to the playoffs.
As the Seattle Garages go up in cheers, the TV behind JAYLEN goes black, before ominous red text starts appearing.
TV
THE BOOK OPENS
A SOLAR ECLIPSE
THE GODS ANGER
THE UMPIRE’S EYES TURN WHITE
DISCIPLINE ERA BEGINS
MIKE, not noticing this, gets up from the couch and stands besides JAYLEN.
And then in JAYLEN’S place is a pillar of fire, and then nothing but smoke and ash. The room is silent, the whole team staring, dumbstruck, at the smoldering spot on the carpet where their star pitcher was standing not a moment ago. MIKE falls to his knees.
MIKE, sounding as though he might cry
Jaylen?
CUT TO BLACK.
FADE IN:
SEATTLE SKYLINE – AFTERNOON.
We see the city in the two pm suns. A skyscraper catches the light and sends a bright flash into the camera, and we use that cut to a shot outside DAD’S GRILL, a restaurant not far from the BIG GARAGE. MIKE TOWNSEND, several years older and a lifetime more exhausted, sits in one of the outdoor tables. The camera focuses first on the building as a whole before slowing coming in and showing just MIKE, quietly eating.
Enter POLKADOT PATTERSON, exiting a car, followed by MOONEY DOCTOR and HOBBS CAIN. POLKADOT is a tall, quiet woman with short black hair. MOONEY is a person in a lab coat with a small bag on one shoulder, and HOBBS is a small but very active man with catlike features.
POLKADOT
Hullo Mike!
MIKE starts, as if he hadn’t expected anyone to notice him. After he shakes off his surprise, he gives the three of them a meek smile.
MIKE
Hi you guys. Things ok with the Talkers?
POLKADOT
As ok as things can be, stuff bein’ as it is.
MOONEY, POLKADOT, and HOBBS sit down at the small circular table, and there’s a bit of silence from all four of them. It is laden with tension.
HOBBS
Alright, Townsend, about… about the thing
MOONEY, curtly
Necromancy.
HOBBS
I’ve been thinking. The gods won’t be happy about it and… well, you’re gonna-
MIKE, looking like a kicked puppy
Hey, you aren’t backing out on me, are you? The gods being unhappy is, well, it’s the whole point!
HOBBS, quickly
Of course not! We’ve all lost people to the umpires, the feedback, the blooddrain, and gods know what else.
As he speaks, MOONEY looks at POLKADOT, eyebrows knit in concern and sympathy, an “are you ok with this?”. POLKADOT meets their eyes with a sad, tired smile.
HOBBS
it’s just that you’re going to be fitting the bill for it, in the end. You and… her. I don’t want to drag people who don’t-
MIKE
Hobbs, its alright. I told you before, I’ll do whatever it takes to get her back.
There is silence again, but this time it is full of confidence, of determination. MOONEY’s face is lit up with a smile, and they produce a thick, old-looking tome from their bag.
MOONEY
Well then. Let’s get necromancing!
PULL OUT SHOT, THEN CUT:
THE BIG GARAGE, 6 am sharp the next morning.
The camera is perched in the stands, showing us the blaseball field. It’s largely the same as we last saw it, but there are several burn marks and bloodstains in various places, seeming almost random. In a wide, loose circle around the mound stand people in Canada Moist Talker uniforms. In the center of the circle, where a pitcher would stand, the GARAGE’S TOUR BUS is balanced precariously. We pan past where POLKADOT PATTERSON is standing, and through the BUS’S doors, where we see MALIK DESTINY, THEODORE DUENDE, ALLISON ABBOT, LUIS ACEVEDO, GREER GWIFFIN, and MIKE TOWNSEND.
ALLISON
Should we really be doing all this early in the morning? Resurrecting the dead seems like a nighttime activity.
The team laughs, and ALLISON even gives a tired smile.
THEODORE
Ally, we all know you just wanted to sleep in.
ALLISON
Oh, well sue me, O’ captain my captain, for wanting to get sleep in the offseason.
There’s another laugh in the van, and then the anxious quiet sets in. MALIK shifts in his seat, LUIS messes with xer jacket. Half the people on this team are new, and didn't meet JAYLEN before she was reduced to a dark spot on the carpet in the Garage’s common room.
MIKE
Alright everyone, I know all of you hate me and stuff-
THEODORE
Aww, Mike, that’s not true!
MIKE raises an eyebrow, MALIK giggles behind him. GREER pipes up, singing “Miike Townsend is a dis-a-point-ment”, the first line of the chorus of the Garage’s anthem, called “Mike Townsend (Is A Disappointment)”
THEODORE, embarrassed
Oh, come on, Mike! That was seasons ago! You’re a credit to the team!
MIKE, continuing
I know, I know… I listened to the other song. But, anyways, uh… we aren’t doing this for me. Or, for anyone else specific! Really. We’re doing this for Jaylen.
The team settles, the air in the van turns serious. Everyone is quiet and full of fire.
MIKE
The gods, and the fans, and everyone else… they killed her. She was burnt up for something that wasn’t her fault, that wasn’t even related to her, to any of us. Now, our splort is more dangerous than ever before. This isn’t for me. This is for Tiana, for Bennett, for Derrick… and it’s for Jaylen.
As he speaks, the camera cuts, then slowly pans to various darkened spots around the field, the places where footprints end abruptly, the blood on the grass. When MIKE says JAYLEN, we cut back inside the van, to the impressed and determined SEATTLE GARAGES.
THEODORE, smiling
Well, Mike, if anything happens to me, I know who to appoint Garages captain!
MIKE, surprised
Oh, you don’t mean tha-
Someone outside the van whistles, and THEODORE looks up, meeting eyes with POLKADOT PATTERSON, who gives him a thumbs up.
THEODORE
Alright, team. It’s time.
ALLISON
Let’s go get our girl.
MALIK
First in, first out!
GREER
PARK IT!
ALL
Various cheers and excitement.
We cut outside the van again, seeing runes and writing and diagrams drawn between the bases. We continue to hear the Garage’s cheering, and we see the Talkers start chanting, and the runes and drawings begin to glow. We cut to a closer shot of the van, then to its wheels, and see a bubbling of pure black appear underneath them. The rift expands, slowly at first, then quickly managing to encase the bus in full. Another wide shot, and we see the van begin to sink into the ground.
We hear one final cheer from MALIK, before the scene ends.
CUT:
THE SHADOWS, hours later.
MIKE is perched against the window of the bus, half asleep. ALLISON and THEODORE are speaking quietly up by the drivers seat. MALIK is sleeping on LUIS’S shoulder, who is murmuring to GREER. As MIKE traces nonsense shapes on the fogged up windows of the BUS, ALLISON speaks up.
ALLISON
Ey, Townsend?
MIKE, tired
Hm…?
ALLISON
Did Mooney or Dot ever mention… how long we were supposed to drive for?
MIKE thinks for a second, sitting up a bit. Before he can answer, LUIS notices there’s a conversation.
LUIS
Wait, Ally, you’re on nickname basis with Polkadot Patterson? Last I heard, only their teammates, and like, Jess Telephone got to call her “Dot”!
ALLISON
Well, maybe I’m just a better batter than you know of!
The two of them dissolve into bickering, and MIKE, GREER, and THEODORE listen to them.
MIKE
I mean, when we met up to talk about the plan, Polkadot called me “Mikey”
ALLISON and LUIS gape at him. GREER starts laughing.
MIKE, looking genuinely sheepish
I mean, not to brag or anything.
ALLISON
Polkadot gods-dammed Patterson called you, Mike Townsend, Three-and-Oh Townsend, worst pitcher in the league, “Mikey”??
MALIK
ALLY! Nobody calls him three-and-oh anymore!!
GREER
BOOOOOOOOO!!
As ALLISON and LUIS prepare to launch into another heated debate about nickname rights to a good pitcher on the Canada Moist Talkers, THEODORE yelps.
THEODORE
OH, SHI-
The BUS swerves, everyone inside is tumbled, and it looks like we might flip for a second, but THEO jerks the wheel back into position, and we recover. The whole team sits in shock for a moment, gathering their breath.
ALLISON [crosstalk]
What the hell was that, man?! You nearly ki-
THEODORE [crosstalk]
There was someone in the road!! Someone was standing in the middle of the goda-
ALLISON [crosstalk]
There is no road, Theo, we are in the VOID-
There is a knock at the back doors of the van. The whole team freezes. GREER and MALIK exchange a scared glance, and THEO and ALLISON fall silent. LUIS is still scrambling xer way off the floor but takes the que from the rest of the cast and freezes in place.
MIKE, tentatively.
H-Hello…?
The knocking on the door increases. LUIS jumps back. The knocking continues for a few seconds, then slows down and stops. Everyone stands quiet, ready. ALLISON fishes her nail-bat out of the seats of the BUS and starts tip-toeing to the door, but MIKE, eyes lighting up with recognition, holds up his hand to stop her. As she lowers the bat, confused, he carefully and slowly creaks open the doors.
JAYLEN
Guys?
JAYLEN HOTDOGFINGERS looks terrible. Her blaseball cap still sits on her head, proudly displaying a SEATTLE GARAGES logo, but her uniform is greyed out and in tatters. On her chest, left side, sits a bright red question mark. The logo of the NULL TEAM. Parts of her face are flaking off, as if she’s still burning, and smoke wafts off her in lazy, tired waves. Still, her face is lit with hope and purpose, tears tracing down her face.
MIKE
JAYLEN!
JAYLEN
You… did you all…?
MIKE
No, no! we’re all ok! We’re here, Jay! We got to the playoffs, like you said we would!
JAYLEN
You’re… gods, Mike, Micycle, how’d you do this? How did you all do this?
The rest of the team has clustered up to the doors, huddled around MIKE. Everyone is in tears.
THEODORE
We had help!
ALLISON
Jay, Jay you’d never believe it! Since you left, the league…
MALIK
The umpires…
JAYLEN
I… I’ve heard about… the whole thing with the umpires. The NULL TEAM told me. I’m not the first, am I?
MIKE
You aren’t, no. Your replacement…
JAYLEN
Derrick…
An air of tragedy falls over the group.
MIKE
But, hey, it’s alright! We’re here now! The Talkers and the fans… we got you to number 14 on the idol board, and now we’re here, and we can go home!
He reaches out to her, and she does the same, but their fingers do not meet. Each touches an almost clear barrier, separating the living from the dead. A moment of shock passes through the group.
JAYLEN
What…?
MIKE
No… no, wait… no, no, no, we came all this way-
MIKE puts his other hand to the barrier, pushes against it, getting more and more desperate. JAYLEN slams her fist to it. ALLISON puts her shoulder on it, pressing with all her might. The barrier doesn’t even budge.
MALIK
CLEAR OUT!
All three GARAGES team members scramble backwards, even JAYLEN falls back, and MALIK prepares to run at the doors. GREER and LUIS stand behind him, and when he takes off, they add their strength to it, pushing him forwards. He tumbles, unsteady but fast, towards the barrier. When he makes contact, the van jumps, but the clear wall does not budge.
MALIK, dusting himself off
d… did it work?
THEODORE shakes his head. ALLISON gets up and starts pacing, GREER helps MALIK off the floor, and LUIS weaves xer hands through xer hair. JAYLEN crawls back to the VAN and slumps against the barrier, and MIKE thumps back against its other side.
JAYLEN, crying
You guys came all the way here…
THEODORE
Don’t start like that, Jay. We’re here to get you out of here. We aren’t leaving without you.
JAYLEN shakes her head, despondent.
JAYLEN
The gods have spoken, haven’t they? What else can we do?
ALLISON is growling. MALIK is aimlessly tossing loose pebbles at the clear screen.
JAYLEN
Hey, Mikey?
MIKE
Yea?
JAYLEN
I heard you, y’know.
MIKE
Wh… what?
JAYLEN
That statue they put up of me, in the lobby of the new stadium they built.
FADE OUT
BIG GARAGE LOBBY- one year ago
A low angle shot of MIKE, standing with his arms full of a BREAKFAST BASKET, with two bows on it. He stands in front of the large bronze statue labeled JAYLEN HOTDOGFINGERS- SEATTLE’S STAR PITCHER. You wouldn’t be able to tell it’s JAYLEN without the plaque. Her eyes hold no kindness, she stands imposing, looming over the lobby with a blaseball in one hand and a bat in the other. MIKE picks up the older BREAKFAST BASKET from the low pedestal and replaces it with the new one.
MIKE
Hey, Jaylen. It’s Mike. Townsend, in case you… forgot. I made you waffles this time!
The statue is silent. There is nobody else in the high-ceilinged room. The echo responds, repeating: this time, this time, this time.
MIKE
It’s been, uh, just about three years now. It feels like a lifetime.
He sits, cross legged on the floor.
MIKE
The team is… uh. We’re doing alright. We, um…
He trails off. The statue stays still and quiet again. MIKE looks to the side, scratches his neck.
MIKE
… ok, Jay, I lied. We aren’t alright. That kid I told you about last week, Derrick, the one who took your place when you… he’s…
This time he’s cut off with a sob, which bounces sharply around the room for a moment before everything falls silent again. Regaining his composure, he clears his throat.
MIKE
We were playing the flowers, and he was in the outfield, and I was pitching, and we didn’t see the umpire and…
He gasps for breath, wiping tears off his face.
MIKE
Yea he’s… Well, I guess he’s with you now. I think you’d like him.
MIKE TOWNSEND stands, takes a deep breath, and shakes his head. The bronze facsimile of JAYLEN stares, unemotional, at the window behind MIKE.
MIKE
Well. See you next week, Jay.
FADE:
THE VOID- current time
MIKE has tears on his face, he’s pressing one hand to the screen. The team has reached exhaustion now, even ALLISON is sitting down now.
JAYLEN
You talked to me so much… and I, I never managed to forget you, by the way. Thanks for all the-
She’s cut off when MIKE sobs, puts his head to the barrier. She covers her mouth, trying to keep her composure. Then, as if a realization has struck, MIKE looks up at her. She’s got her hand positioned right above his, and with a bit of hesitation, he pushes softly against the screen again.
This time, his hand breaches it.
MIKE’s hand goes through the barrier, and so does JAYLEN’s. they replace each other in space, as if both are ghosts, clear. They both draw back instantly, the orange light of the van following JAYLEN’s hand out and MIKE comes away turning blue.
JAYLEN, with dawning horror
Mike, no, no. I can’t let you do this, I’m not letting you do thi-
MIKE
Jaylen.
She stares up at him, terror in her eyes. He blinks, full of resolution and purpose. JAYLEN’s eyes drift to the rest of the team, in rapt attention, now.
MIKE
The Talkers warned me… I- Jay, I told them I would do anything, that I’d cross any line to get you back.
JAYLEN
Mike, gods, Townsend, look at me! It isn't worth it! I am not letting you-
MIKE
Jay. I know what I’ve got to do. Trust me, alright? We got here before. I won’t be gone, Jay, the team hasn’t done all this work to come back empty handed.
JAYLEN looks down at the ground, curses, and closes her eyes. After a long moment, she puts her hand up to the barrier, not looking up. MIKE breathes a sigh of relief, and he puts his hand to hers. her fingers come through the barrier, replacing his. then her hand, her forearm, her shoulders. The rest of the team is watching in still silence, in horror. and then JAYLEN is in the van and MIKE is outside of it.
MIKE, shouting to be heard
THEO! START THE VAN!
The GARAGES TOUR BUS starts, almost without THEODORE’s involvement, and we watch, from over MIKE TOWNSEND’s shoulder, as the SEATTLE GARAGES vanish into the darkness.
CUT TO BLACK-
RED TEXT
FIRE AND SMOKE
AN EGG
HATCHING
JAYLEN HOTDOGFINGERS RETURNS
MIKE TOWNSEND RETREATS TO SHADOWS
END.