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EXT. SARGASSO BALLPARK - DAY
ESTABLISHING shot of the field.
Announcer Bot (now JUNKBOT) announces where the game is at.
JUNKBOT
It’s a balmy Saturday afternoon in Sargasso’s outpost Zulu, and we’re live on Gulfweed field for a winner-take-all showdown between the Sargasso Grunthors and the Nefarious City Elites.
We see the character positions on and off field.
The Grunthors on field are made up of Rivet as pitcher, and Morts as outfielders. The Elites are made up of Troopers (in the dugout) and Dr. Nefarious who is up to bat. He’s the second hitter of the inning. The Umpire positioned behind the Catcher is a random alien/robot so to be neutral.
We see the current at-bat score: two balls - one strike.
Ratchet and Clank are cheering in the audience. Ratchet is dressed like a japanese baseball fan and has a drink with a straw. Clank has noise makers and is wearing a towel around his neck. Maybe they have half-eaten hotdogs/yakitori/kakigori. There is a Mort dressed in a Trudi mascot costume.
JUNKBOT
The teams have been neck and neck for the duration of the game, but now it’s the bottom of the ninth and final inning, and the Grunthors are leading by two runs.
Rivet pitches.
Dr. Nefarious goes to swing, but the ball smacks him in the face. Reveal: a crack over his left eye, mirroring his old scar.
DR NEFARIOUS
(pointing to his face)
HEY! I just fixed this!
Dr. Nefarious suddenly freezes.
DR NEFARIOUS
Oh Lance, my nipples are harder than refrigerated caramel.
UMPIRE
Timeout!
Dr. Nefarious cradles his head and exits the field/is carried out by Lawrence.
JUNKBOT
Ouch! Due to neural circuitry damage, the doctor is too injured to continue.
(additional comment)
This is a real kick in the rectifier for the away team. It’s looking more and more like the Grunthors will take the game.
Grunthor fans in the audience are prematurely celebrating.
JUNKBOT
The Elites must send in a substitute batter to continue the game.
To Rivet’s displeasure, the Emperor emerges from the dugout. He enters the field and makes his way towards the at-bat, violently manhandling a bat off of a Trooper.
THE EMPEROR
Give me that.
Rivet sighs.
RIVET
(to herself)
Urgh, I knew he’d do this.
MORT
Ohno.
JUNKBOT
What’s this? It appears that the Elite’s field manager has stepped in as substitute! *Is this allowed?*
Emperor arrives at the plate and test-swings the bat.
THE EMPEROR
I’m the Emperor of this galaxy, so therefore, I say it is.
JUNKBOT
(nervously)
And I’ll allow it, because I’m scared of you. Haha, oppression at its finest, ladies and gentlemen. Play ball.
Rivet swaps her glove and prepares to pitch with her robot arm.
RIVET (CONT’D)
Time to switch it up.
The Emperor calls his shot, then readies himself menacingly.
THE EMPEROR
(to Rivet)
Do your worst.
FIELDER MORT
P-put some mustard on it.
JUNKBOT
She’ll need more condiments than that. What do you think, Juicey?
JUICE (GUEST)
gbgbgh (juice noises)
Rivet’s brow furrows in concentration.
She prepares her windup with much determination, then pitches with power. The ball goes hurtling towards the Emperor.
POV OF THE EMPEROR
In his vision, we see the robotics inside him calulating the ball’s trajectory and speed using charts, fluctuating data and stats on aerodynamics. We also see useless information such as the day of the week, the weather, his health bar.
* Calculating Trajectory.
* Speed/Velocity.
* CPU percentage.
* Rivet is also indicated as Rebel Lombax or something derogative/endearing (or both)
He swings, and hits a towering fly ball with unfair strength.
The flaming ball leaves the atmosphere and catapults into space.
JUNKBOT
And the Emperor hits a homerun!
(as the ball leaves the planet)
Oh, that cannot be good for the ozone layer.
Rivet and her team are gobsmacked. Troopers praise him.
TROOPERS
Exceptional! Flawless swing! Perfect form! Another victory for our glorious emperor! etc etc
Emperor rests the bat on his shoulder.
THE EMPEROR
Hole-in-one.
DR NEFARIOUS
(with a cold pack held to his head in the BG)
Wrong sport, idiot.
The Emperor flips his bat and trots around the diamond. The audience cheers for him.
Rivet frowns, and watches on with contempt.
THE EMPEROR (PRE-LAP)
Why don’t we make things interesting, hmm?
INT. SARGASSO BALLPARK CLUBHOUSE - PRE-GAME (FLASHBACK)
The Emperor and his troopers confront Rivet in the underground locker room. She is surrounded by them, and is wearing a batting helmet and hoodie over her uniform.
THE EMPEROR
If my team wins, and we will, I’ll personally gift you a free one-way ticket to Zordoom prison, where you will remain *indefinitely.* Hehemmhm.
Rivet fiddles with her bat, refusing eye contact.
RIVET
I don’t know, I’m not normally one to wager my freedom.
THE EMPEROR
I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.
RIVET
Well, what about if we win?
THE EMPEROR
You won’t.
RIVET
What if we do?
The Emperor rolls his eyes.
THE EMPEROR
Ugh, I don’t know. I’ll give you, erm...
RIVET
If we win: the Morts get a month off from work, AND a three week vacation to Pokitaru, all expenses paid for.
The Emperor narrows his eyes.
THE EMPEROR
How ‘bout *half a day off*, and a signed copy of my latest book?
RIVET
No deal. Although we could always use more kindling.
THE EMPEROR
Ugh, fine. ONE WEEK vacation for the swarm, but dorm rooms only. And no deluxe holiday packages.
He holds out his hand.
RIVET
TWO weeks with daily buffet access.
He grabs her hand and shakes forcefully.
THE EMPEROR
Yes. Whatever. It’s not like you’ll win anyway, hmhmm.
He lets her go, and wipes his hand on his shirt.
THE EMPEROR
I look forward to visiting you in Zordoom.
EXT. SARGASSO BALLPARK - PRESENT
The scoreboard reflects the new score.
JUNKBOT
We’re fast approaching the end of the game with the Grunthors leading by one run, but the inning’s not over yet, folks. The Elites have one last hitter in their lineup.
The audience roars.
THE EMPEROR
Ah, they love me. You know, I think I rather like batting. I might go again, hhmhmm. After all, it’s only proper that I give them what they want.
JUNKBOT
That is definitely against the rules, but my opinion is invalid because I value my life.
Rivet and the Morts look worried.
JUNKBOT
The Grunthors must prevent the Elites from scoring another run, or the tie will result in an extension, and, if that earlier display was anything to draw from, Nefarious City *will* take the game.
THE EMPEROR
(calling from the plate)
Oh, Rivet~ I’ve prepared a cosy little cell with your name on it! And don’t worry, while you’re away, I’ll make sure to work your little family into the ground.
MORT
Aw geez. If he hits another homerun, we’re finished! What do we do, Rivet?
There’s a pause where Rivet appears deep in thought. She then notices Kit on the bench who is innocently interacting with a butterfly. Rivet walks off the field.
JUNKBOT
Oh? It seems that the Sargasso Grunthors are substituting their pitcher.
RIVET
(giving Kit the ball)
Get him out.
Kit enters screen right and replaces Rivet on the pitching mound. She’s wearing a Grunthors uniform, front-facing cap and sporting a glove too big for her.
The Emperor squints at the tiny robot in the distance and gawks.
THE EMPEROR
*That’s* your closer?
(chortles)
As the Emperor laughs, Kit chews gum and blows a bubble. When it pops, she suddenly begins transforming into big mode Kit. Her uniform rips off. The Emperor suddenly looks quite small in comparison, and his laughter dwindles.
THE EMPEROR
(nervously)
Oh, it’s you KT74..1..6.
Kit’s eyes narrow. She turns her (now tiny) cap backward, and raises her right arm. Inside her wrist mounted missile launcher is the ball. She aims, then pitches (shoots). The ball goes careening towards the Emperor.
THE EMPEROR
Aauurghhh!
The Emperor shreiks - the ball is terrifyingly fast. Too fast to calculate. He cowers as he chops at the air in an attempt to make contact, but misses.
UMPIRE
STRIKE ONE!
Despite having been propelled backwards, Catcher Mort catches the ball. Rivet cheers from the dugout.
The weary looking Emperor barely gets to reposition himself when Kit fires again. He utters a cry of indignation.
UMPIRE
STRIKE TWO!
The Catcher Mort cradles the flaming ball with fear in their eyes.
JUNKBOT
Emperor Nefarious has fallen behind in the count. It’s all upto this moment.
The Emperor shakily holds his ground for one final attempt.
Kit fires. The Emperor swings, but the ball goes right though the bat, shattering it, and into the catcher’s mit.
UMPIRE
OUT!
Rivet erupts from within the dugout. Ratchet and Clank cheer within the audience.
The Emperor is left standing sweaty and slouched, holding the bat weakly in disbelief.
JUNKBOT
The Sargasso Grunthors win!
The Grunthors celebrate. Kit(small) is thrown into the air. The Elites are left sulking on the bench. The Nefarii slump dejectedly. Lawrence fixes Dr. Nefarious’ crack with masking tape.
Later, we see the Morts and Rivet enjoying Pokitaru.