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[A jaunty little tune introduces the video - very much the kind that might be expected in a lift or as part of a local GP’s telephone answering machine. It's overlaid on top of a introductory illustration: two cartoon figures bent double at the waist in the parody of an ice hockey face-off, except they hold boom mikes instead of hockey sticks. One of them (dark haired, shorter than the other) looks determined, whilst the other (blond curls, the shape of a orthodox crucifix on display around his neck) smirks. An onscreen title underneath the figures reads: Ottawa Shane and Boston Ilya, until Boston is crossed out and replaced with Ottawa.
The introduction swaps to a shot of two men (clearly the real life versions of their cartoon alter egos) sat side by side in an office room, headphone sets crammed on their heads. The room itself is cosy, if a little cramped, with two bookshelves dominating the background, crammed with a mix of non-fiction hockey books, books in Russian, and a sizeable collection of Mills and Boon. The two men sit slightly apart on two separate arm chairs, legs just out of frame - but it looks a little like one of them (the blonde) could feasibly have his leg hooked around the other's. This is Ilya Rozanov, and therefore likely, because he lives to invade Shane Hollander's personal space. The other man is Shane Hollander, who lives to defend his personal space (and sanity).]
ILYA [solemnly] [partially bleeped in the edit]: Good morning, sl***.
SHANE: ILYA. You can't f***ing say that. We're not allowed to swear.
[ILYA looks significantly at the camera and straight into the souls of the audience. His face is, as always when he is teasing SHANE, stretched into a shit-eating grin that makes him look like he has more in common with five year-olds than people his own age. He waggles his eyebrows a little. SHANE is flushed red and obligingly pulls put some loose change from his wallet to dump in a little plastic jar labelled Pike's swear jar (it's for everyone!!!) (but mostly Pike); ILYA follows suit.]
SHANE [clearing his throat]: Hello, everyone. If you're a regular here, welcome back - if you're new, welcome! I'm -
ILYA [interrupting]: Bor-ring.
SHANE [cont.]: Ottawa’s Shane Hollander, and this is Ottawa’s Ilya Rozanov (formerly of Boston, formerly of Moscow, yadda yadda yadda), and together we are Game Changers - the channel where we mostly play video games and talk hockey, but also do… general - stuff?
[His introduction peters off a little to the end, voice lilting up in question despite the fact that this is just a variation of every introduction that he has delivered for almost every video he and ILYA have ever filmed together. He glances over at ILYA, who is sniggering to himself.]
ILYA: Is like our video diaries, where we talk about whatever we want and you losers listen for no apparent reason.
SHANE: You can't call people losers when we want them to watch our stuff. [A beat.] But seriously, guys, surely you got better stuff to do?
[ILYA shakes his head.]
SHANE [clearing his throat]: Anyway. We’re doing a slightly different video today, because we were kindly sent these VR headsets in a promotional box to model for you guys today.
[From underneath the desk, ILYA pulls out two large cardboard boxes, setting them down. He opens one, rifling around in the copious amounts of packing paper and bubble wrap that has been stuffed in. SHANE watches, irritated and exasperated, as ILYA tosses most of the wrapping onto the floor, and then leans down to gather it into his arms and then into a bin hidden off camera. Whilst he is in the middle of this, ILYA triumphantly holds a black VR headset above his head, resembling the opening sequence of The Lion King. SHANE rolls his eyes, taking the headset from ILYA’s eyes. He doesn’t look like he entirely trusts it.]
ILYA: Me first!
SHANE: Are you sure?
[ILYA makes grabby hands for the headset that SHANE is still eying doubtfully. At last, SHANE gives in, nudging ILYA to sit so that he can set the headset atop ILYA’s head with all the solemnity of a coronation. SHANE takes a lot more time ensuring that it is on straight and brushing the curls out from where they get caught under the straps and away from ILYA’s face than is maybe warranted. There’s a gentle expression of fondness on his face, though it is clear from the way that he is trying to keep his back from the camera that this is not necessarily something that he wants to broadcast. ILYA’s cheeks are ruddy and warm. It’s probably hot in the room. It’s definitely not anything else.]
SHANE [quiet]: Comfy?
ILYA [with two thumbs up]: All set, solnyshko.
SHANE: I think you should stand up before I put my on. Test it, you know?
ILYA [clearly imitating someone]: Oh, yay! I’m a sacrifice!
SHANE: What? Shut up. No. [A deep, grounding exhale.] Just stand up please.
[ILYA nods and moves to stand. He immediately - misjudging the distance between himself and the desk - slams into the corner of it, the edge driving into his stomach. He doubles over, slumping defeated to the floor.]
ILYA: OW. BL***.
SHANE: Did you just walk into the desk?
ILYA: Ow.
SHANE: Dude. What.
ILYA: Help. Please.
[ILYA reaches impatiently upwards, only his hands visible as they poke above the desk. SHANE rolls his eyes again - this is a common expression when ILYA is around - and reaches down, clasping ILYA by the wrists to haul him upwards. His arms, very clearly muscular under the tight tee shirt, tense. ILYA, with just enough innocence for plausible deniability, runs an appreciative hand over one of SHANE’s biceps before he collapses into SHANE’s arm, forcing SHANE to catch him. SHANE does. For a moment. Then he gives ILYA a shove and the other man collapses back into his chair with a squawk, dramatic enough to almost force the whole chair over and himself head over heels.]
ILYA: Shanya -
[A cut. Both SHANE and ILYA are now stood with the VR headsets on and controllers in their hands. There’s about a foot of space between them, and their hands brush as they inquisitive move around, testing the equipment. SHANE cranes his neck, looking at something, mouth falling open slightly in astonishment. He reaches up with one hand, as if he is trying to touch something above him.]
SHANE: This looks so real -
[He jerks out a hand, following whatever it was he had been looking at before. ILYA yells; SHANE has struck him quite forcefully in the face, sending the other man crashing backwards and disappearing out of frame. SHANE stands still, frozen, hardly daring to move.]
SHANE [timidly]: Ilya?
ILYA: OW. My nobe.
[Another cut. SHANE and ILYA are no longer stood in the office and its cramped confines, but in a much larger, open plan living room, furniture moved back to give them a free space to move around in. ILYA’s nose is noticeably red, and there’s a pronounced pout on his face, arms folded over his chest.]
SHANE: So, er, we thought it was best moving somewhere with a little more room for us to do this in, to avoid any - injuries.
ILYA: Any more injuries.
SHANE: …yeah. Anyway. [Clearing his throat.] We have a couple of games to choose from. Do you want to pick?
ILYA: Very - very… what is the word? Yuna says it.
SHANE: Magnanimous?
ILYA: Da. Very magnanimous of you. [A beat.] Ah! Is parkour game. I think we do this.
SHANE: Are you sure?
ILYA: Yes.
SHANE: Okay, okay. Let me get the instructions quickly. They’re in the box, I think.
[SHANE leans forward, pushing the headset up onto his forehead. His hair sticks up wildly in all directions. He looks very ridiculous and - if ILYA had not still been wearing his headset - it’s certain that he would have been laughed at. He roots through a cardboard box in front of him and then pulls out a thick sheaf of instructions. Even on camera, the sheer teeny-ness of the print is captured. SHANE reaches off-screen and his hand returns clutching a pair of glasses. Pushed up the bridge of his nose, underneath the VR headset, SHANE looks a little like a futuristic, dishevelled and sleep-deprived academic. He begins to flick through the pages, before going back to the start, carefully reading each line of text.]
[Meanwhile, ILYA sticks his arms out in front of him and shuffles awkwardly forward. His shins hit into the sofa and he leans forward, feeling up the cushions. He makes an almost inaudible sound of triumph, and then begins pulling himself up onto the sofa itself, with great difficulty. The process would be easier without the headset on but ILYA makes no move to take it off. Eventually, though his legs are visibly shaky, he ends up stood upright on top of the sofa, knees slightly bent and arms held out from his sides to steady himself. SHANE looks over at him, frowning.]
SHANE: What are you doing?
ILYA: Climbing.
SHANE: Why?
ILYA: Is authentic. For parkour. Makes me feel alive.
SHANE: Please stop.
ILYA: I don’t want to.
SHANE: Ilya.
ILYA: Shane.
SHANE [with a huff]: Fine. Just let me finish reading the instructions before we start.
[SHANE goes back to reading the booklet. ILYA looks around, clearly using the VR to see some other sort of surroundings. He wafts his arms in front of him as if to remind himself that it is not real, wobbling a little on the couch before correcting his balance.]
ILYA: Woah.
SHANE: I said wait.
ILYA: Yes, but is very cool. Am on top of very tall building. Cannot see you from up here.
SHANE: I’m not in the game.
ILYA: Yes, but if you were, I could not see you from up here.
[SHANE rolls his eyes. Goes back to reading the booklet. ILYA looks up. Looks down. Looks up, then down again. He takes one tiny step forward. His lips mouth silently another woah. Then he jumps.]
ILYA: Par-
[He disappears of camera. There’s a deafening crash and a louder silence. SHANE jumps in fright, whirling around to where ILYA has disappeared off screen.]
SHANE: WHAT THE FUCK, ILYA?
ILYA [panting]: …fuck.
[SHANE tosses the VR headset away and scrambles towards ILYA, already reaching out for him before he is anywhere close to be by his side. From the angle of the camera, all that can be seen is SHANE’s back as he curves protectively over ILYA, his head bowed as he looks down, and then, one of ILYA’s hands, reaching up to bat at SHANE’s face, yet he mostly just succeeds in dragging his hand down over it, in some weird and clumsy caress. ILYA himself is otherwise entirely off-screen.]
SHANE: Are you hurt? [Pause] Where are you hurt?
ILYA: …arm.
SHANE: Why’d you do that?
ILYA: Felt right, at the time. I think I regret it now though.
SHANE [hissing through his teeth]: I think it might be broken.
ILYA: OW. Don’t prod it.
SHANE: It’s definitely broken. I can’t believe you did that.
ILYA: It felt very real! I was just doing what the game needs! Am committed to parkour lifestyle!
SHANE: I told you to wait until I read the instructions!
ILYA: Bor-ring.
SHANE: Okay, well now you can be bored in hospital. We’re going to the car and we’re driving there straight away.
[ILYA blows a raspberry.]
SHANE: This is non-negotiable.
ILYA: The video -
SHANE: Oh, shit -
[SHANE darts over to where the camera has been recording his whole exchange. His face is flushed bright pink, his eyes wide and glittering, and he fumbles for a moment to take the camera off its tripod. The footage turns shaky.]
SHANE: Okay. Well. Until next time, guys.
[The video cuts to black. And then, like at the end of a documentary about things much more serious than ILYA’s commitment to the ‘parkour lifestyle’, a block of text fades into view.]
Ilya sustained a hairline fracture of the distal radius, from where he tried to catch himself as he was falling. One night in hospital, a lot of pain relief, and some TLC fixed him right up.
Ilya would also like to acknowledge for the viewers that his use of the VR was irresponsible. When using, please do not attempt to climb up on or dismount from items of furniture. Always ensure that you are using the equipment in a safe and mindful manner.
COMING UP NEXT … Autoplay in 5s
How Ilya Nearly Died Playing Virtual Reality Parkour (15:04)