Dennis Bateman: Spy • Pyro

Expiration Date

Spy • Pyro

Spy: [the Spy has agreed to coach Scout on how to be "better with the ladies". In a small gymnasium, the Spy prepares a rolling cart with a crash dummy, along with a wine bottle, two glasses, a bucket of drumsticks, red roses, a vase, and a box of RED chocolates. He pushes the cart so it rolls to the nervous Scout]
[nonchalantly]
Spy: Seduce me.
Scout: [the Scout looks back, confused, and turns forward, arms akimbo] You?
Spy: [pointedly] Seduce me.
Scout: What, Spy? I ain't gonna...
Spy: SEDUCE ME!
Scout: [taken aback] Right! Right. Okay.
[He looks down at the cart. He immediately picks up the bucket of fried chicken and lets out a quick sigh]
Scout: Okay...
[He walks up to the Spy]
Scout: H-hey there, good-lookin... I got a bucket of chicken...
Spy: [He slaps the chicken out of Scout's hands] I'm not one of your fried chicken tramps! I'm a woman! I like my men dangerous... Mysterious...
[Spy takes the crash dummy into his arms and starts dancing with it briefly before holding it in front of him]
Spy: You want to be my lover? Earn it! Seduce me!

Spy: [drawing card from Bucket list] Our first dying wish is Scout's! He's... drawn a picture of me getting hit by a car.
[examines closely]
Spy: I have... something radiating off me.
Scout: Yeah, those are stink lines.
[to Heavy]
Scout: That's why the car hit 'em: because he smells!
Spy: Yes, I see.
[pulls another card]
Spy: Here you have drawn me having sexual congress with the Eiffel Tower...
Scout: Heh heh heh.
Spy: [pulls another card] ... Eiffel Tower having sexual congress with me...
Scout: Heh heh heh.
Spy: [pulls yet another card] ... both of us relaxing, post-coitus...
Demoman: [mouthing] "Post-coitus"?
Spy: [continuing] ... I'm crying and the Eiffel Tower has stink lines coming off of it, did anyone besides Scout put a card into the bucket?
Scout: Oh man, classic Scout!
Spy: Fantastic. This was a huge waste of my time.
Soldier: You did not read mine!
Scout: [sighs] Does it say you want the bucket?
Soldier: Yes!
Spy: [pushes bucket towards Soldier, lights cigarette] See you all in Hell.

Spy: How long before these... tumors kill us?
Medic: Vell, let's see.
[he gestures, thinking out loud]
Medic: Ve all use the teleporter, let's say six times a day... Times four years. Minus... ve're not bread. Hmm. Three days. Yes.
[zoom in on his face]
Medic: We all have *three days to live*.

Spy: [the spy places a bucket of notecards on the table. A literal bucket list] *This* is a bucket.
Soldier: [examines the bucket] Dear God.
Spy: There's more.
Soldier: [astonished] No!
Spy: [ignoring him] It contains the dying wish of every man here.
[turns]
Spy: Scout. You did collect everyone's dying wish?
Scout: Oh, you bet!
Spy: Excellent. Gentlemen, synchronize your death watches.

Scout: [Miss Pauling has just ended their video call to deal with the mess Scout's team made] Lot of people busy with busyness.
Spy: [passing by, smugly] Asking out that dial tone again, I see.
Scout: [sitting up and angrily gesturing] Go to hell, Spy.