*Theremin music plays in the background*
Narrator: If you are watching this, then you are a survivor. The lethal assassins from outer space haven’t reached you. Yet. But, they’re already here,
*scene fades from black to a globe being held up to the camera.*
Narrator: building up their forces, building up their influences, building up to the day when they will unleash horror upon the earth without measure. The unstoppable power of these extraterrestrial enemies has already been seen, and the terror…
*globe moves closer to the camera to simulate zooming in. The part of the globe labeled Alaska bumps into the camera*
Narrator: is real.
*Sunburst transition to the front façade of a small mayor’s office in the city of Talkeetna. Graff Wife looks up the wooden stairs to the front doors*
Graff Wife: Well, this may be my last effort to convince people that there’s anything going on. *She walks up the steps and into the receptionist’s office.* I’m here to see the mayor.
*The receptionist looks up from her desk, confused. She is wearing horn-rimmed glasses, a gray sweater, and has her hair pulled back in a bun. She looks to be working on a crossword puzzle* Excuse me?
Graff Wife: I need to speak with the mayor. It’s vitally important that you let me in to see him.
Receptionist: I’m sorry. Now isn’t a good time.
Graff Wife: It’s only going to get worse unless I can speak with the mayor. Please.
*The receptionist bit her lower lip*
Receptionist: Fine. He’s just down that hall. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. He doesn’t like to be disturbed
Graff Wife: I wish I was only here to disturb him.
*Graff Wife walks stage left as indicated. The camera pans down to ankle level and follows Graff Wife’s feet. It pauses at the receptionist’s feet, where a large manacle made from Styrofoam and duct tape secures her to the desk. Descending minor chords by French horns in the background*
*Scene wipes right to left to Graff Wife approaching a large wooden door labeled Mayor in a gold nameplate. She takes a deep breath, places her hand on her chest, and knocks on the door with the other hand*
*No noise comes from the office*
*Graff Wife knocks again*
*Again, not a sound is heard from beyond the door*
Graff Wife: Mr. Mayor? Are you there? *She waits a moment* My name is Graff Wife, and I’m here with an urgent message.
*Not a peep comes from beyond the door*
Graff Wife: Please, you have to let me in. There have been attacks. People have been getting hurt. I don’t know what’s behind all this, but every time there are cats at the scene. You have to believe me!
*The door opens a crack, creaking loudly. Evil tuba sounds. Graff Wife enters the office. Behind a wooden desk, a tall office chair is turned around, facing out to the cold Alaska weather. Graff Wife approaches the desk*
Graff Wife: I know it sounds crazy. I’ve been traveling the country trying to convince people, and no one has given me the time of day.
*The chair doesn’t move*
Graff Wife: Cats have been showing up more and more. It’s like all of the shelters opened their doors and just let the cats out. And they’re everywhere anything has been happening. Every murder, every robbery, every home invasion and assassination attempt has had cats involved somehow.
Mayor Stubbs: Meow (Subtitle: I know)
*The office chair turns to see Mayor Stubbs lounging in the chair, stretched out but looking at her. Graff Wife screams with her hands around her mouth*
Mayor Stubbs: Mrrrow (Subtitle: Not so loud. It disturbs the receptionist pet)
*Graff Wife screams again*
Mayor Stubbs: Meow! (Subtitle: I said be quiet) *He paws the air in front of him*
*After a third scream, Graff Wife turns and flees the office. Mayor Stubbs leaps off the chair, across the desk, and chases after her*
Mayor Stubbs: Yowl! (Subtitle: Get her. She knows too much!)
*The receptionist rises from her desk and dramatically grabs Graff Wife by the upper arms. Graff Wife fake struggles for a second before admitting defeat*
*Mayor Stubbs catches up, and boops the receptionist’s ankle*
Mayor Stubbs: Purr (Subtitle: Well done, My Pet. Take her to the dungeon)
*Graff Wife struggles faintly while the receptionist takes her down the hall, dragging the broken Styrofoam chain behind her*
*Scene cuts to a room with a barred wall dividing it in half. Graff Wife is curled in the stage left corner of the cell. There is one window in the upper middle of the room that shines through the bars and across to the door*
Graff Wife: I’ve lost everything. Now the entire human race is doomed
*The prison door opens and Mayor Stubbs steps in*
Mayor Stubbs: Meow (Subtitle: You’re right about one thing. The human race is doomed)
*Graff Wife screams*
Mayor Stubbs: *Judgy glare* (Subtitle: Humans are loud)
Female cat: Mrrow (Subtitle: They usually are)
Mayor Stubbs: *turns to face female cat* Mrrow? (Subtitle: Queen Fluffybutt! I didn’t expect you to be joining us)
Queen Fluffybutt: Mrrow (Subtitle: Well, when a prisoner voluntarily walks into our domain, I take an interest. Well done)
Mayor Stubbs: Purr (Subtitle: Thank you, my queen)
*Queen Fluffybutt steps right up to the bars of the cage. She cocks her head to one side and watches Graff Wife*
Queen Fluffybutt: Meow (Subtitle: How much does she know?)
Mayor Stubbs: Meow (Subtitle: That’s the funny part. She came in and announced it all. She didn’t even bother to see who was in the chair.)
Queen Fluffybutt: Meow (Subtitle: Typical. We’ll make her wait here for a little. Then, send in the Scottish tormentors.)
*Mayor Stubbs nods, and the two cats exit the cell*
*The camera pans back to Graff Wife, who is watching the cats with confusion*
Graff Wife: What did I just see? *Screams out of reflex. Turns to face the camera* Yes, it’s necessary. It’s in the handbook *she holds up a book with the title: Damsels in Distress 101*
*Clock-hand transition effect. The sun has gone down, casting a faintly darker light across the cell. But, you know, still plainly visible, just kind of bluer, really. It signifies nighttime. Graff Wife sleeps curled in a corner*
*The door to the cell opens with an ominous creak. Graff Wife startles awake. Four shadows stretch from the doorway to the bars of the cage. All four Scottish Tormentors purr. Graff Wife gasps dramatically*
*The Scottish Tormentors step up to the bars of the cage and between them. All four begin climbing Graff Wife.*
Voice from Offstage: Not today, you adorable miscreants!
*A grappling hook is hooked through the bars of the window. A motorcycle revs in the background, and the hooked window breaks free, taking some of the wall with it, revealing the wall to be painted foam*
*Fred jumps through the newly created door. There are scratches on his face and one perfectly placed on his upper lip. He wields two spray-painted Nerf guns, one in each hand*
Fred: Well, at any rate, come with me if living’s your thing.
*Three of the Scottish Tormentors hiss. The other one meows. Fred jams each of the Nerf guns into a holster at his waist and pulls a white spray bottle from his pocket. The camera cuts to a close-up of the bottle, which reads “Scratch-Off Cat Training Spray”*
*Camera cuts to Fred, who dons an origami-folded foil hat and sprays Graff Wife with the spray. The Scottish Tormentors flee back through the bars and Fred offers his hand to Graff Wife*
*Scene cuts to Fred and Graff Wife… Well, Graff Widow, technically… on the back of a small dirt bike riding towards a cityscape in the background*
Graff Widow: Where are we going?
Fred: *Puts on big aviator sunglasses* The one place we’ll be safe
Narrator: Where are they heading? Is it really a safe place? Is this the last we’ll see of the Scottish Tormentors? Tune in next time for Rise of the Death Cat Kitten Mob from Outer Space IV: The Munchkins Prowl at Midnight
*Scene fades to black*