Down by the waterside, in a quiet part of town at night, a half finished bottle of liquor in a brown paper bag is grabbed by a rather unkempt looking
down and out; who takes a long drink from it: It’s Dr. Arcane, sat hunched on the ground in a state of deep melancholy. The sound of footsteps
approaching him can be heard, and we see a man approaching. He stops and calls to Arcane. “Dr. Arcane! It’s me....Graham.” Graham pauses and
waits for an answer. None is forthcoming. “You can’t stay in hiding forever;” He calls again, looking round in agitation and twiddling his fingers
nervously; “People told me they saw you here.” “Go to Hell!!” Arcane’s voice cries out to the assistant. Graham doesn’t give up. “I have to see
you.” He insists. “Why? So you can gloat?” Arcane snarls angrily from his melancholic stupor. “No. So I can help.” Graham says gently, going over
to Arcane. “Haven’t you done enough already?” Arcane’s speech is slurred by the drink and wallowing self pity. He looks up at Graham standing
over him. Graham again looks round nervously; “Please don’t shut me out! I took a risk coming here.” He begs Arcane. “Well then, leave!” Arcane
sneers resentfully, clutching the liquor bottle like a comforter; “I’m sure your new employer is waiting with all kinds of enticements. That is why you
betrayed me, isn’t it, Graham?” Arcane points angrily to the man, the liquor bottle still clutched in his hand; “for the enticements!” Rejecting
Graham’s compassion, Arcane resumes his drinking.
Now if only she could develop a permanently irate English
accent; life would be perfect; Graham thought to himself.
In Arcane’s lab, Graham is standing with a female assistant, Debbie. They seem to be smiling and eyeing each other in a manner that would imply a
relationship considerably more than just businesslike. Another person approaches; a large, powerful looking woman with deeply tanned skin and
enormously extravagant earrings: Carla Jeffries. She’s perusing Arcane’s old files on a computer monitor; “These files are incredible!” She
announces, in a strongly French accented voice; “My old rival was into more schemes than I gave him credit for.” Graham turns away from Debbie
to look at her; “The Doctor was always very busy.” He tells her. “And that was his downfall.” She states; turning to face the rest of her staff and
approaching them. There are a group of females and a single male. The women are dressed in tight shorts; more for looks than practicality; and the
male resembles a reject from ‘The Village People’. “A lesson learned;” she lectures them all; “So many environmental laws and health codes; even
Arcane couldn’t keep the hounds away. It was almost too easy!” She’s shrugs, now in full gloat; her lecturing and posturing appearing almost
messianic. “And now.....it’s all mine! After years of competing for General Sunderland’s attention, I pick up Arcane’s empire....” she snaps her
hands to emphasise her ease of the conquest; “...after Uncle Sam shuts him down!!” She gives a satisfied smile, which broadens into a big grin;
followed by a chuckle....and then a full blooded cackling, victorious laugh.
Later, Graham is walking round the perimeter of the complex with the Carla and the male assistant. “Tell me something, Graham;” she asks him as
they walk together; “Why did you choose to stay on here with me?” “My life is invested in the complex, regardless of who owns it.” He replies; and
she seems to notably approve of his answer ; “Nice and direct. I like that in my employees....especially the men;” she says to him, continuing to
assert an authoritative air; “....You’ll do well with me.” She tells him, and he thanks her. She continues to pump him for information; “Tell me what it
was like working here the past few months?” Graham seems a little reticent, but answers; “It was, er...rather grim....” he says awkwardly. “I’ll Bet it
was!” She cuts him off before he can say anything else, clearly expecting and wanting this answer as it feeds her somewhat abundant ego. She
laughs, and doesn’t sound as though she really cares about whether Graham elaborates or not. “Men like Arcane don’t just lose battles. They lose
their self esteem....leaving them with nothing!” she says callously; abruptly stopping her walking to put her foot up on a crate and lift the hem of her
dress to expose her shoe. She says nothing, implying that Graham should take the hint without her asking. He does; and hurriedly gets to his knees
to fasten her shoe lace; the whole action giving emphasis to her need for domination over her subservient male employees.
Graham thought it best to keep Carla happy before she insisted
on giving him one of those uniforms everyone else was wearing
“That appears to be the case.” Graham concurs with her previous statement. “But not you.” She tells Graham; “You obviously have your priorities in place.....and that’s exactly what I need to make sense of Arcane’s research.” His task finished, Graham gets to his feet again. “I guess you could say Dr. Arcane learned that having ideas is easier than executing them.” He tells Carla. “I have never had any such problem;” She states with smug confidence; “as you will see.” She gives a grin. “I am putting you in charge of my first new idea, Graham.” Graham smiles proudly, adjusting his tie a little. Carla looks around her and continues to explain; “We’re going to clear cut the swamp!” she announces proudly. Graham seems to do a double take in surprise. “Excuse me??” he says with uncertainty. “Clear cut it!” she reiterates firmly; describing her plans for what to do with the products it will create; “Working from four sides towards the centre, it should take no time at all!” she describes the process with contemptuous ease. Graham seems concerned; “But what about the animals?” He asks; “I mean, there’s no telling what creatures out there may be forced to defend themselves.....big creatures.....angry ones!” he says cryptically, obviously referring to Alec, whom Carla doesn’t seem to know about. “That is phase two.” She says quickly, obviously having thought this out carefully beforehand; “We are building a plant to process the little critters, into everything from gourmet hors d’oeuvres to, er, dog food!” She grins at her own simplistic genius. “We’ll make millions!” she adds the icing to the cake; smiling broadly. Graham suddenly starts to give an oddly satisfied smile himself (as though a thought has suddenly struck him: A thought not entirely to Carla’s benefit); and they both laugh together as they continue their walk.
"Hi, Honey...I'm home!"
The next scene is down by the waterside, at Ann Fisk’s boathouse. “Dr. Arcane?” Graham’s concerned voice calls out. Inside, Arcane is lying
sprawled in an unkempt heap in the far corner, almost hidden. He awakes with a start to the sound of Graham’s voice, giving a disoriented and
nervous gasp. “It’s me, Graham.” Graham repeats as he stands there clutching a brown paper carrier bag of groceries. Arcane gives another little
moan, still barely coming round from his drunken stupor. “Thought I’d got rid of you!” Arcane mutters wearily. “You’ll never be rid of me.” Graham
tells him, calling Arcane ‘sir’ to suggest that he’s still loyal. “I, I...I brought you some food.” He says gently to Arcane, walking over to him with the
bag and kneeling down beside the sorry looking scientist. Arcane’s looking really rough: Unwashed; five o’clock shadow....even the hair’s wilted
into a pathetically limp mess! “What’s this, charity?” Arcane snarls disdainfully, eyeing the bag suspiciously, still clutching his bottle and wallowing in
self pity; “Well don’t bother! I got what I deserved when that dreadful woman defeated me.” “You couldn’t have known what she was planning.”
Graham adds quickly, trying to break Arcane’s self destructive mood by consoling him. Arcane verbally shoots him down again; “Course I could!”
He sneers, taking a comforting drink from the bottle; “It’s a page out of my book!” He shouts, prodding himself in the chest to prove his point; “I
invented the very ploy she used on me! Bribing public officials!” He admonishes himself, before lapsing into a more passive resentment again; “Not
that it matters now. All that was once mine is now hers.....” He looks at Graham with disgust; “...including my assistant!” He says venomously;
“That’s been made more than clear to me!” He adds, for emphasis to Graham, who looks downcast and is clearly upset by this remark. “Money
can’t buy respect, Sir....And Carla Jeffries will never have mine.” Graham retorts quickly, looking Arcane directly in the eyes to stress his loyalty to
him. It goes unnoticed and unappreciated. “One day your world will come crashing down around you!” Arcane snarls furiously to Graham in what
sounds like the prophetic voice of doom of an ‘end of the world is nigh’ crazy. Clutching the bottle firmly in his hand and brandishing it forward to
emphasise his speech; “There won’t be a damn thing you can do about it!” he continues his ranting. “You may be wrong about that, Doctor.”
Graham says with a smug smile; before looking back suspiciously to make sure nobody is watching them.; “Carla’s planning to clear cut the swamp.
Alec Holland isn’t likely to let that happen.” Graham announces triumphantly. Arcane doesn’t sound too impressed though. “She defeated
me....She’ll take care of the jolly green giant, no trouble!” He sneers, going back to defeatist melancholy, before deciding that taking another drink is
far more important than talking with Graham.
Outside the window of the boathouse, Alec is listening to all this. And he doesn’t look too happy about things.
"Bulldozers: Check...Chainsaws: Check. Magnifique!....
So who's brought the sandwiches and the bug spray?"
Clear cutting is about to begin in the swamp. It’s a fine, sunny day and Carla is there, along with Debbie and Graham. Around them, bulldozers and heavy vehicles are waiting in readiness. “Well, it’s an exciting day!” Carla announces, clasping her hands eagerly. “I have a feeling it’s only begun.” is Graham’s somewhat ambiguous reply. “Are my excavation teams in place?” She asks, and Graham confirms, saying that they’re on four sides of the swamp. “Then let’s get on with it!” Carla orders, wasting no more time. “All units commence operation!” Graham takes out a walkie talkie and gives the command to begin. All over, chainsaws and bulldozers begin their work. Alec is watching all this with rising anger and disbelief. “She can’t do this!” He utters, before standing and raising his hands, concentrating hard. Overhead, the sky clouds over and everything becomes dark as night. “What’s going on here!?” Carla demands. Beside her, a bulldozer operator switches off the engine. “Answer me, Graham! What’s happening?” She again demands. “I’d say the swamp is defending itself.” is Graham’s reply. Carla thinks on this and can’t accept it; “Non! It’s...an atmospheric occlusion....” Debbie looks around; “....Rare, but explainable.” Carla states confidently; “Now try not to sound as stupid as you look!” She snaps at Graham; “Fix it!” She demands, walking away.
Twenty episodes without any Shakespearian dialogue
was really beginning to take it's toll on Anton.
Back in a pleasant little wharf area of Houma reserved for financially challenged ex-scientists, Arcane is standing by a dumpster. He’s holding his
bottle upside down above him, , draining every last drop into his eager and waiting mouth. When he’s satisfied that he can’t get another drop out of
it, he tosses it unceremoniously into the dumpster and staggers off in his half drunken stupor. As he’s walking, he grins with intoxicated inanity in
recognition, as he sees Alec standing before him. “Well, Holland! I was wondering when you’d finally show up to gloat over my demise.” He says
with an almost resigned friendliness. “I get no pleasure from other people’s suffering.....even yours.” Alec states sombrely. Arcane seems to find this
concept amusing; “Oh, really!? Well you missed out. It’s one of the ten best things to do in...Houma!’ Arcane slurs cynically. Alec ignores the joke,
his manner remaining serious; “Why are you letting someone else run your complex?” He asks the scientist; as though, for some reason, he imagines
Arcane has a choice in the matter. Arcane’s mood is too drunk and too cynical to give a straight answer. If Alec isn’t going to gloat, Arcane
certainly is; “What’s the matter, my old pal?” He goes on a friendly offensive; “My successor got the better of you, has she?...and you don’t like it!?
Well, take my advice. Find yourself a new swamp!” Arcane points his thumb over his shoulder to indicate Alec should sling his hook and get out of
town. “Why would I fear her any more than I feared you?” Alec asks him calmly. Arcane grins broadly; “Because, my naive sprig; Carla Jeffries is
more conniving, duplicitous and evil than I ever hoped to be!” Arcane states, staggering up close to Alec, a gloating, knowing smile on his face; and
pointing emphatically at Alec’s chest; “Trust me!” He lectures Alec with another grin, before staggering away; leaving Alec to ponder this.
At the complex, female guards are patrolling the perimeter. “What’s the matter, Graham?” Debbie’s voice is heard asking. She and Graham are
walking through an old part of the complex, underground. The walls look natural, rather than manufactured; and seem a little familiar. In fact, it looks
pretty much like Arcane’s old cave (it’s probable that the complex was built over the site where the cave was, although it’s never stated per se.)
Graham has a wistful, far away look on his face he fondles an iron railing of a gate they’ve just walked through. “Ah...nothing.” he sighs in
contemplation. “You’ll get the equipment running again tomorrow. I know you will.” She reassures him. They walk past the remains of a chained up
corpse on the wall. “It’s not that.” He mutters again. “Well, what then?” she says, as they stop and stand next to an evil looking contraption that
looks like it’s been made from a converted electric chair; “I think we know each other well enough to be honest about our feelings.” She says. “I’m
sorry, Debbie;” he apologises; “It’s just that....seeing all this...” He looks around at the grotesque devices, bodies and the cave itself with the old,
familiar bare lights in the alcoves; “.....brings back such wonderful memories. This is where he liked to relax;” Graham reminisces, walking up to an
upright wooden rack and touching it gently; “Sometimes working alone for hours....” He starts to climb onto the rack, looking upwards;
“....conducting his pain threshold studies.” “You know what I think, Graham?” Debbie says softly, walking round the front to the right hand side of
the rack, where she starts to fiddle with a wooden locking clamp; “I think that he was lucky...ah ha!....” She laughs playfully as she places his right
arm in the clamp; “....to have you for an assistant.” She then puts his left arm in with a broad grin. He doesn’t seem to mind. “I’m the lucky one,
Debbie.” He gives a wicked little laugh and moves his face close to hers for a kissing position. “Oooh!” she exclaims, smiling back; and he responds
with a broad grin; “You’re not thinking what I’m thinking?” he drawls suggestively. “I doubt it.” She replies in a more serious, even disdainful tone,
which seems to go unnoticed by Graham. She crouches down, starting to fasten his ankles into the locking leg clamps. Graham seems to approve,
giving a redneck whooping holler. “What are you doing?” He asks, still clearly on a sexual high. “Bringing back old memories.” Is Debbie’s
ambiguous reply. Graham’s loving every minute of this, giving a long, lecherous laugh.
Carla was determined to get Graham to
laugh at her lightbulb jokes if it killed him!
He so engrossed he fails to see Carla Jeffries standing directly to his left with her male assistant, watching him. “You men are so predictable;” she
states; “It’s hardly fun anymore!” Upon hearing her arrogant gloat, Graham’s joy ends abruptly and he turns to stare at her, confused and more than
nervous. “Why are you doing this?” He asks innocently; “I haven’t done anything.” “That’s right!” she rebukes, putting her hand back to take a file
from her male assistant; “and most conspicuously, you haven’t told me about this!” She slaps him hard across the face with the file. “Alec Holland!”
She states bluntly; “You haven’t told me about him, Graham.” She hands the file back to the assistant. “You’re working for me; yet you never even
mentioned his name!” Graham’s floundering and thinking hard. “I, I...I...didn’t think you’d be interested.” seems to be the best excuse he can come
up with. She’s prepared. “But I am!” she insists emphatically; “more than you know.” She walks round the rack to be with Debbie; “That’s why I
had poor Debbie spend so much time with you.” She gloats, caressing Debbie’s throat; “As if she really wanted to spend her time with YOU!” she
laughs, putting her arm round Debbie with an affectionate pat, implying that extra loyal and intimate scientist/assistant relationship that Arcane and
Graham seem to share. Debbie smiles back at Carla; and Graham stares in a mixture of horror and misery; realising just how he’s been played for a
sucker. It’s about to get worse. “I know all about your visits to Arcane.” Carla states, snapping her fingers. At the cue, the male assistant plays a
micro tape device. The cave is filled with the sound of Graham and Arcane’s previous conversation in the boathouse.....the one involving Graham
stating his loyalty to Arcane and lack of respect for Carla! Graham closes his eyes and winces. With a wave of her hand, Carla orders the tape
switched off. “Respect!” She says in a thoughtful, rehearsed type of way, echoing the final comments of Graham from the tape; “That probably
bothers me most of all.” Graham seems to give a tiny smile at this, despite his predicament; before resuming his fear. “No respect for ME.....Still, I
let that slide for now;” she says, with a hand on her chin in a thoughtful pose. Her words imply magnanimity; her tone says that this is about as
believable as an honest politician. She walks round to Graham’s left again. “The fact that Holland has stopped the clear cutting is...meaningless.
MEANINGLESS!” She says directly into Graham’s face. “Because, like Arcane, I have spent my career looking for the key to immortality.” She
confides; and Graham now knows the clear cutting was all a ruse and never her intention from the start; and he’s played right into her hands. She
continues. “With Arcane’s downfall, I got all his research. The answer is within my grasp, Graham.” She says eagerly, grasping Graham’s face; “and
you are going to fill in all the gaps.” She pats him gently on the face. On the other side, Debbie begins to pull a lever, stretching the rack upwards.
Graham starts to scream.
Outside, a loud terrifying, drawn out screaming can be heard filling the night. The female guards patrolling are oblivious to it; but deep in the swamp,
Alec hears, and turns in surprise.
"Alright, Carla, you win....Just how many geneticists
DOES it take to screw in a lightbulb!?"
In the boathouse, Arcane isn’t faring any better. Two of Carla’s female assistants break in and start to assault him. He’s punched, kicked in the
stomach to the other side of the room; then grabbed by the throat and held firmly in the corner. “What the Hell!?” He gasps, unable to escape their
grip. “How’s it going, Anton?” Carla steps out of the shadows, gloating, accompanied by the male assistant from earlier. “Not so well I take it?” she
says in mock sympathy, eyeing the place, which is a total mess. “Poor man!” she continues her mocking; before her voice suddenly takes on a blunt
and deadly serious tone. “I want the formula that turned Alec Holland into a swamp creature!” she demands. “My memory is not as sharp as it used
to be.” Arcane comments sarcastically with a smile, despite his predicament. At a snap of her fingers, the women roughly manhandle Arcane over to
a workbench where they forcibly bend him over it, arms behind his back, and face pushed against the work surface so that he cannot move. Carla
moves in close to him, her face just over his and asserting her dominance. “Now that I’ve got your attention.” She states; “I read everything you left
on Holland. I also know that someone named Ann Fisk found the answer to his transformation.” She tells Arcane, who looks shocked; “How could
you know that!? I deleted all the references!” He gasps. “A little birdie told me!” She gloats cryptically. Gasping: His face contorted in anger,
discomfort and frustration; Arcane struggles futilely as the boathouse door opens and they all see Graham dragged in, looking half dead and
dishevelled. “The formula, Arcane....Or you’re next;” Carla’s voice hardens; “....and from the look of it, I doubt you’ll fare very well!” As her sees
the state Graham’s in, Arcane grimaces in a combination of fear, then anger.
Next day in the swamp, a piece of equipment is spilling out pollutants. Alec is there, examining it, then smashing it to pieces with an angry growl.
From behind him, Carla applauds, clapping her hands. “Magnifique! Vraiment!” Upon hearing her voice, he turns to face her, and approaches. “I
wondered what you looked like;” she tells him, sounding her usual confident self; “I had no idea you were so....superbe!” She flatters him, although
she still has a knack of sounding like she’s really complimenting her own ingenuity. Alec says nothing as he regards the woman facing him. “Sorry
about the filtration device; but I had to attract your attention;” she says with a casual smile; “Pollution seems to be something you respond to.” He
nods slightly. “You’re the woman who defeated Arcane.” Alec states. This seems to please her ego immensely and she gasps in pleasure; “Oooh,
wonderful!!.....I have a reputation.....” Her voice is still casual; and even takes on an air of calm authority; “....come!” she orders Alec, with a
beckoning gesture of her hands as she turns and walks away.
In a clearing in the swamp, a fine dinner table has been laid out. It has been set for two places. The cutlery is silver, and there are two waiters
standing by the table. Carla is already sitting down, and gestures to Alec to do the same; “Please sit down.” She says politely. He doesn’t comply;
“You can sit down, can’t you?” she continues. He remains standing. “What is this?” Alec asks suspiciously. “This is lunch;” She gestures to the table
innocently; “and a truce.” “Are we at war?” Alec asks her. “That depends on you.....please.” she again gestures to the empty seat, determined not
to be refused even in such an insignificant detail. A waiter has now moved behind the chair, and holds it for Alec to sit down. He complies; and they
face each other across the dinner table. “I know everything about you.” She states pleasantly. “I know everything that Arcane knew.....and I have
been able to divine more.” She continues in her egocentric, rehearsed speech. Alec ignores the posturing; “There is a point to all this, I assume?” He
says bluntly. She gives a laugh. “I like to collect knowledge....lots of it.” She emphasises her words with precise movements of her hands; “Then I
like to take different pieces, and put them in the same puzzle.” She sounds eager and excited; “Par example....I have gained every bit of data that
Arcane ever worked on, including you.” She can’t seem to go more than a sentence without promoting her own genius and diminishing others. Alec
just scrutinises her silently. Carla continues. “And I recently found out about Dr. Fisk and her work.” At the mention of Ann Fisk, Alec shifts a little,
and his eyes widen. It’s a mistake; and the cue that Carla’s been waiting for. “Good.....a reaction!” she says with deeply satisfied glee, indicating
that Alec means no more to her than a test subject; “She may be in Geneva now; working on your cure, but her files are here.” Alec just resumes his
silent scrutiny. Carla gets to the point; “I’ve studied them closely. I can help you, Holland....” She opens her hands in a friendly gesture; “.....if you’re
interested.” “I’m not!” Alec states flatly, without a moment’s hesitation. He’s heard enough and stands up, ready to leave. Carla isn’t a woman that
likes to take no for an answer though. Her smile drops and she snaps her fingers sharply. One of the waiters pulls on a nearby vine. There’s a
clashing sound, and a bright orange light is emitted that fixates Alec.
"Only 3 months out of butler college, and I end up with a job
working for a woman who hypnotises and spanks vegetables!"
The vine has brought down some sort of macabre metal device from a tree, which is bathing Alec in the light it’s producing. Carla goes over to the now motionless Alec, and stands beside him. “You are so protective of yourself; but you made one little mistake;” she explains with a good gloat; “Your eyes......A direct link to your brain. It wasn’t hard to deduce the light wave match to render you helpless.” She surveys her captive with thrilled excitement. Like a child with a new toy she pats his body with glee, giving a joyous little giggle as she does so.
Later, in the lab at the complex, Alec is confined in a small chamber that’s glowing blue; whilst Arcane and Graham are manacled to the far wall. Carla is measuring out a green fluid into two test tubes.
GRAHAM: "Do you think she'll use the clamps and the neural probe, Sir?"
ARCANE: "Only if we're *really* lucky!"
“All this equipment; all this knowledge....and you had no idea what to do with it.” She derides Arcane. “Exactly 2 CCs of Troline into the separator tube!” She commands Debbie, handing her one of the test tubes. “I’ve tried Troline, it’s too unstable.” Arcane comments wearily, being surprisingly helpful. “Dr. Fisk didn’t think so.” Carla replies, wiping her hands. Arcane is affronted; “Dr. Fisk was an incompetent. Her work wa....” “Her work was light years ahead of yours, Arcane!” Carla retorts contemptuously, turning to face Arcane. She approaches her manacled captive. “She was struggling to find a cure for Holland’s condition....” She explains. Arcane regards her in stony silence; “....You were trying to recreate it. Didn’t it occur to you that working backward from a cure might lead you to the answer?” She lectures him arrogantly; but Arcane seems to be listening with genuine interest. He contemplates what she’s said; “....Yes...well....Troline is merely a base, but....” He tries to defend his methods; but Carla gets in quickly; “Not bad.....for a student! She patronises him, grinning. “In a few hours I will be able to recreate the Bio-Restorative formula.” She announces. At mention of this, Alec struggles to free himself from what appears to be a seemingly open entrance; but the blue glow flashes brighter and seems to be holding him, and there’s a strong humming sound coming from the chamber. His struggles are in vain. Arcane and Graham watch helplessly as Carla saunters over to Alec casually; “Don’t even try to fight these resistor units. They’ll tear your plant fibre apart if you do.” she says, in her most condescending tone of voice.
"Ten syllables....Sounds like 'anguished pain'"
Alec gives up. Carla then turns back to Arcane in triumph; “With Ann Fisk’s formula, and that decompression chamber;” she points to a chamber
constructed in the lab; “I’ll be able to transform myself.” She approaches Arcane, who regards her warily; “I’ll have everything I
want....Immortality!” “Even if it means looking like him?” Graham sneers, inclining his head towards Alec. “Even if it means looking like you!” is
Carla’s brutal reply. Graham’s face shows dismay at the insult. Carla walks away, leaving them. Arcane and Alec look across the room at each
other; then Arcane looks up at the ceiling, commenting whimsically; “Holland defeated, and I had nothing to do with it!” Debbie wanders up to him
with a broad smile on her face; “Oh, not true, Doctor;” She gloats cruelly. “Well, if it hadn’t been for you, this would have taken her....a week!” She
laughs cruelly at him, but Arcane’s face takes on a dangerous, yet calm and knowing look; and his tone becomes deadly serious; “Laugh. Laugh all
you want; but there’s one small element she’s missing for her transformation. The smallest, tiniest detail.....but she’ll find out about that soon enough’
He says cryptically. “What are you talking about?” She asks suspiciously; and Arcane seems to give the tiniest, wry smile.
“To create a perfect world, one needs a perfect world to begin with....his very words?” Carla is questioning Debbie some time later about what
Arcane said. They appear to be in the boathouse. “He seemed to think it was important.” Debbie answers. “It is!” Carla says without hesitation,
turning her back on Debbie and facing us; placing her hands together in contemplation, almost as though praying. “One of Arcane’s greatest failings
is his ego.” She states (can’t help wondering if she’s describing Arcane or herself); “His words are clues to his self aggrandising thoughts.” She
continues to dissect every tiny little detail. “We could try his own ‘brain drain’ technique on him?” Debbie suggests. Carla just shakes her head.
“He’d die first.....I would.” She pauses. “Perfect world;” she raises an eyebrow in contemplation; “almost biblical in it’s phrasing.” She turns back to
Debbie; “Arcane imagines himself a God figure; so let’s start with that.” She continues her convoluted dissection; “He imagines a world that needs
to be created from nothing; yet recognises that such a world needs a basis for creation.” She turns away again, her mind still trying desperately to fit
the pieces of the puzzle together; “What Arcane is saying, is that my attempts to recreate Holland’s condition, by reversing the cure....” she paces
back down the room; past the two other assistants and the decompression chamber; before stopping and turning back; “....would require.....” she
pauses for a moment, then is struck by an epiphany; “The EXACT same conditions as the original transformation....” she laughs, clapping her hands
together in triumph; “....OF COURSE!!” She turns to the chamber, pointing to it; “The chamber....THIS chamber. The one I built in the lab is
useless.” Debbie regards her contemplatively. “Dr. Fisk built this chamber first; THEN based her formula in conjunction with it’s exact
measurements and composition!” She announces proudly; so pleased with herself for solving this conundrum.
In the lab, the elevator door opens and Debbie and two other women approach Arcane. “Well, good evening, Doctor! So good to see you!”
Debbie mocks him. “Hello, ladies. What, all three of you? I don’t know if I can manage it, but I’ll give it a damned good try!” He responds in kind,
with a roguish grin; and promptly receives a brutal punch to the gut from a laughing Debbie for his trouble. She then turns her back on him and
walks away with a smug grin. The other two women remove his manacles and drag him off. Graham watches them leave and starts to panic
uncontrollably; “What are they doing to Dr. Arcane!? His voice is wracked with fear; “They’re gonna kill him!!” Now he’s hyperventilating as he
and Alec hear the elevator door opening to take Arcane away to his death. “They’re gonna kill Dr. Arcane....then they’re going to kill me!!!” Alec
seizes his opportunity and tries to calm the man down; “Listen to me, Graham. We have a chance to get out of this.” He says calmly and forcefully;
“I can save Arcane.” He states. “Why would you want to?” Graham says in a miserable and suspicious voice. “He’s the lesser of two evils.” Is
Alec’s reply. He continues; “I can release you....but I need you to release ME.” “How?” Graham asks with a confused shrug of his hands. “Move
away from the wall.....I must concentrate.” Alec tells him. Graham complies, steeling himself for whatever is to come. “I hate plants!....and women!”
he mutters.
Inside his chamber, Alec clenches his fists and concentrates. Elsewhere, the swamp begins to react. The water bubbles, and vines and tendrils start
to make their way into the complex. Unseen, they permeate the wall and weaken Graham’s bonds, until the man is able to pull a small section of the
wall itself away and free one hand. With his new flexibility, he uses this hand to open the manacle clamping the other. Pretty soon he’s completely
free. He immediately goes over to Alec and removes two boxes plugged into the wall at Alec’s feet. The blue glow disappears, and Alec steps out
of the chamber, free. Behind him, in the chamber, there’s a violent shower of sparks. Graham starts in surprise.
“Anton. Look what I have....” Carla’s voice can be heard in the boathouse, gloating to Arcane. Inside, she’s holding a wine glass on the palm of her
hand containing a dark green liquid; “....The Bio-restorative formula!” she announces with a broad grin; standing in front of the decompression
chamber door facing Arcane, who looks at her scornfully. “Enjoy it: It took me years to get it to that point.” “And it took me hours to improve on
it!” She replies arrogantly. She takes a long hard look at it; “One drink of this; and into the chamber......Immortality!!” “This chamber!? Well, you
can’t be serious!” Arcane says with a derisory smile; “Dr. Fisk make this out of an old navy decompression chamber. The one at my lab....” “....Is
exactly what you want me to use, isn’t it!?” She snarls. He gives a little pout, looking like a guilty schoolboy who’s been found out. “Perfect
world!....I don’t think so!” She snaps at him, putting her hand to his forehead and roughly pushing him down into a chair: A gesture of superiority
and domination. Standing over him, she raises the glass in a toast; “The world of Anton Arcane.....C’est finis!” She raises the glass and takes a long
drink; then pauses hesitantly, before passing the glass back to an assistant. She then seems satisfied and gives a broad, triumphant smile at Arcane.
The chamber door is opened and her moment of glory has arrived. She begins to enter. “Welcome to my world, ma cherie.” Arcane purrs softly, in
a tone full of latent menace. She stops and turns back to face him. “An out of place comment. What is the context, Cherie?” Arcane just smiles
innocently. “Oh, you read too much into things, Carla;” He smiles, his voice dripping with obviously false superficiality; “My world is your world. I
admit defeat; that’s all I meant.” He sounds about as convincing as an average politician; and Carla certainly isn’t convinced. “You just gave yourself
away!” she exclaims; “Anton Arcane would never, COULD never, admit defeat; not as long as there was breath in his body.” She advances on
him; “Your world is mine....except for the last few....” she stumbles on her words as realisation dawns; “.....weeks!” The full implication hits her.
“OF COURSE!!” She beams, moving her face close to his; “For the last few weeks this has been your world.” He regards her in silent anger. She
continues on at him; “This boathouse, this equipment....these files. I based my formula on this equipment and these files. You could have tampered
with them!” Her temper is rising, her total control threatened. “Ha! I’m not a clairvoyant! How was I to know you’d find me?” Arcane tries to allay
suspicion, with a hint of desperation to his voice. Carla’s had enough of mind games. Grabbing his hair, she roughly pulls his head backwards. “You
knew I’d find you because I’m ME!” She snarls; “and using your knowledge of me and my genius; you felt you could manipulate me!....You knew
I’d test the formula on myself, didn’t you?” The question is rhetorical. Arcane remains silent. “So, what is it?” She demands, letting go of Arcane
and drawing back; “Did you tamper with Ann Fisk’s files?....or her equipment?.....or, perhaps, a combination of both?” Arcane says nothing.
“There’s only one way to find out.” She announces, holding a flask of the formula in front of Arcane, at eye level. He stares at it fixedly, with a look
of dawning horror; and swallows nervously.
Just seeing that flask brought back the traumatic
memories of the last time he'd tried Graham's home brew!
Back at the complex, the elevator doors open, and Alec enters the lab, disturbing two female assistants at work. One advances with a gun, but he kicks it out of her hand. She backs off wisely and doesn’t interfere. The other rushes forward, and Alec pushes her aside effortlessly, before setting out to destroy all the information in the computer banks.
Alec had to admit that unless his dancing lessons improved,
he was unlikely to land that lead role in "A Chorus Line"
Meanwhile, at the boathouse, Arcane is being force-fed the Bio-Restorative formula by the female assistants.
Back at the lab, Alec is wrecking the place with relish. Computers and equipment are blowing up left, right and centre!
Back to the boathouse again, and Arcane is kicked into the decompression chamber by a female assistant who’s forcing him with a gun in his back.
The door is slammed shut and locked with a wheel by another female assistant. Debbie doesn’t appear to be here. Through the small reinforced
glass pane at the front, Arcane can be seen struggling in vain. Carla approaches the window; “Calm down, Anton! Admittedly, if this doesn’t work
you’ll be killed; but if it does work....well, I’ll have to kill you anyway. But still....for science!” She laughs. She snaps her fingers. “Decompression!”
she orders, and the male assistant presses a switch on a control panel. Instantly, the outside door locks itself and metal shutters slam down, sealing
all the occupants inside. Carla looks round in surprise, then back at Arcane in amazement. From inside the chamber, Arcane has lost that afraid
countenance, and his face has taken on a happy and gloating expression. “My perfect world, Carla. Perfect, because everything worked out just as
I hoped it would....Everything!” His voice is full of confidence now, mocking her. “What are you doing!?” She demands to know. “I’m giving you
what you want.” Is Arcane’s ominously mild reply; “You’re going to transform.” He’s relishing the situation now; “Oh, and you were right. I did
tamper with Dr. Fisk’s files. I planned all of this!” He reveals, grinning broadly now. Carla looks at him aghast. It seems he was right to say that she
looked too deeply into the meaning of things. Arcane isn’t letting up on the gloating one iota. He’s determined to savour every moment of this; “The
formula will give me a bit of a tummy ache; but with all that Oxygen pressurised around you.......” He pulls a mock, choking expression; imitating a
corpse, as he waves her a cheery goodbye. Oxygen begins to flood into the room from ventilation grills. Carla and the female assistant that kept
manhandling Arcane begin to choke and scream. Carla vainly tries flailing at the chamber window, before collapsing to the floor, shrieking. Both the
male and female assistants clutch their throats in mute choking, before also collapsing. From the safety of the chamber, Arcane happily cranes his
neck to get a better view to enjoy the fruits of his labours. Carla’s still screaming like a stuck pig, and gets up.
Arcane couldn't help thinking that come next Halloween
Carla was going to make a bloody fortune 'Trick or Treating'
She’s now hideously mutated. Half her face is slimy, green and plantlike; her hand a webbed paw. In a final act of fury, she tries to get to Arcane,
slamming her webbed hand into the glass; but all she succeeds in doing is leaving a sticky, slimy print of green goo on the glass; which trails down
onto the door as she finally falls to the floor and is silent. As she goes down, Arcane waves her a cheery goodbye from behind the window. “Au
revoir, cherie!” He calls gleefully to her.
Some time later, back at the complex, the lab is a total mess. Everything’s been wrecked. Computers have been smashed; glass and equipment lie
strewn everywhere. The place might just as well have been hit by a bomb. The elevator door slides open, and Graham and Arcane wander out
slowly, surveying all the damage as though in a daze.
And on tonight's episode of "Men Behaving Badly".....
Both of them look like they’ve been through the wars. Graham looks round in abject dismay. “It was Holland. He destroyed everything.” He says to Arcane dismally. Arcane seems to be taking it better than Graham. “Yes, he certainly did, didn’t he?” He replies. His tone is contemplative and philosophical; not at all unpleasant as might be expected. He looks at Graham; “Well, we’ll just have to start all over again, won’t we, old chap?” He says casually, putting his arm round Graham in a rare and genuinely friendly gesture. “Yes, Sir.” Graham just nods resignedly.
"Yes, Graham. Just think of it. The perfect opportunity to
start again. A few scatter cushions....pastel shades...."
Back in the swamp, Alec submerges into the waters, uttering the words:
“When evil battles evil, the swamp can’t take sides. It can only hope the lesser of the two is victorious.....and take advantage of the outcome.”