Poker Night Butchered Extended
We meet Anabelle and Xiao, two punk teen girls hanging around with some shady robots. We get that humans live alongside sentient androids, called Constructs. Anabelle has a crush on a Construct named Aiden.
Yeah, so this scene: a bunch of constructs playing poker, trying to outwit each other while shooting the shit, and complaining about humans. Written entirely on 2/10/14
CAST: Lucius (android) - a very serious and slightly frigheting, skinless robot. Alfred (android) - a soft-spoken, also well dressed, serious looking man. Castor (android) - a tall, loud balled man. Pollux (android) - looks identical to castor, but has a more reserved demeanor. Widow (gynoid) - a somewhat provocatively dressed but clearly mechanical woman Mildred (gynoid) - a silent, old-fashioned gynoid, dressed as a maid. Aiden (android) - an upbeat, handsome young guy wearing black. Anabelle (human) - a rebellious teenage girl, the only human in the room.
SETUP: After hours at The Analogue, the constructs are gathered upstairs. The furniture has a victorian-antique style. There is only one light on, hanging above the round table where they are gathered, just bright enough to illuminate everyone’s faces. Everyone is playing poker and smoking. The room is very hazy from the smoke.
Castor and Pollux are sitting side by side. Castor is looking at his cards. Pollux is leaning back, puffing a cigarillo. He's already out of the game. Aiden and Anabelle sit close together, comfortably. Widow sits by herself, legs folded. Mildred is quietly arranging items in the dimly-lit background, away from the table.
Widow: I’ll see your thirty and raise you ten.
Aiden: (after pause) Fold.
Anabelle: Me too.
Castor: (leans forward, looks at Widow intently, and slides his chips into the pile) I’m in. I have to know.
Widow: (revealing her cards with a smirk) Four kings.
Castor: Shit. (suddenly looks away in resignation and smokes. Then, after a pause:) You know what I don’t get about gynoids?
Widow (raking in the chips): I’m sure you’re going to tell me.
Pollux (dismissively): Here we go…
Castor: No, wait. Hear me out. I mean they're a nice shape don't get me wrong. And on humans they make sense. The girl here will probably be excreting milk in a couple years.
Anabelle (shocked but amused): Hey!
It's just we’re not mammals, so what’s with the mammaries? (beat) They look impractical is all I'm saying. I mean it’d be like walking around with coconuts glued to your torso.
Widow: That’s exactly what it’s like. They’re always in the way. The model before mine had smaller ones, but it didn’t sell as well. Humans are obsessed with these things.
(Anabelle has her arms folded, with a slightly pouty look)
Aiden: (to Anabelle) Don't let it bother you. These guys are full of shit.
Pollux: Ain't that the truth.
(a silent panel or two)
Alfred and Lucius walk in together. They look serious; they've been discussing something. They are wet from the rain. Mildred immediately looks up from her work.
Castor: Well, look at you two. If it isn’t a couple of sad, brooding robots.
Alfred: Who’s winning?
Castor: Widow, as usual.
Lucius: (to anabelle) What’s she doing here?
Castor: Aiden invited her.
Lucius: You’re bringing humans to our games now?
Aiden: Relax, she’s cool.
Anabelle: (surprised by Lucius' face, she gasps, and then coughs profusely from the smoke, then awkwardly:) Hi!
Widow: Won’t she die of cancer of something?
Pollux: Aww, look at Widow try to be nurturing.
Castor: It’s the mammaries talking.
Widow: I hate you both.
Pollux (to Lucius and Alfred): You two playing?
Alfred: I am.
Widow: It's your deal then. (Widow hands Alfred the deck, and he shuffles)
Pollux: you know who’s the best at this game?
Pollux: What’s she doing anyway?
Alfred: working too much.
Castor: (shouting) hey mildred, why don’t you join us?
Castor: come meet the human.
Mildred walks over and sits next to Alfred. Lucius looks at the two of them with a flat, ambiguous expression. Alfred deals.
Anabelle: Hey, I’m Anabelle.
Mildred shakes her hand, but doesn’t say anything.
Castor: She can’t talk.
Anabelle: Oh… why not?
Alfred: Long story.
Anabelle: can’t you get like a new voicebox or something?
[not sure how to end this scene, but transition to showing why alfred/lucius look serious. could also work some of this in earlier and show from a different perspective: Alfred and Lucius talking, then show the poker game inside, then show them walk in.]
Something major this scene might be missing is an explanation of how the feel about the sexbot industry, and why this "mission" appeals to Lucius desire to disrupt / damage that industry. Also why not add rachel?
Rachel: You hear about Babylon?
Castor: Yeah. Some idiots smashed up a bunch of sexbots. Kind of weird.
Pollux: What’s weird to me is how upset the humans are about it.
Widow: Humans love their Perfect Pussy(tm) don’t they?
Castor: Yeah, Widow. You ever think about getting one installed? I bet you’d be a lot more popular with the humans if you did.
They would have laughed, but constructs did not have that function.
Widow: You could always get one too, Castor. I’m sure some people would be into it. An obnoxious, masculine robot with a pussy. Sure to fulfill someone’s wildest dreams.
Alfred: I like it. You both should get one. Then we could rent you out hourly. New business model for us. Look out, Babylon.
Anabelle: Are they always like this?
Pollux: Yes. They’re assholes.
Pollux: Seriously though, why do humans care so much? And who would smash a bunch of sexbots anyway? What’s the point?
Alfred: I can’t say I’m sad to see them go.
Widow: I agree.
Castor: Go on. Why do you care?
Alfred: I suppose there’s nothing wrong with humans creating toys for their own amusement. It’s not like I feel any loyalty towards sexbots, they’re brainless. But I do feel that, when humans are used to virtual intelligences, they have a tendency to view a real construct like just another servant.
Widow: And sometimes they get ideas.
Alfred: It’s probably fortunate for widow here, as well as the rest of us, that we don’t particularly look human, so we’re less likely to be bothered by those humans looking for animal pleasures.
Castor: Can you imagine somebody hitting on Widow, trying to take them to bed?
Alfred: I don’t have to imagine. I’ve seen it.
Pollux: I bet it wasn’t pretty.
Widow: He’s probably healed by now, there wasn’t THAT much blood.
No one was quite certain whether she was kidding or not.