Perky: Sounds like a plan to me! So is there anything else you can tell us? Come on, give us a tease!
Chazz: What you saw in the pilot? A mere appetizer, America. A tiny taste of what’s to come. You have no idea what we’ve got in store for these kids. Just think of what we’ll be able to show you on the next episode, with a week’s worth of footage under our belts!
Perky: We can’t wait!
Chazz: I know.
Perky: Until next time . . . My eyes are up here!
* * *
Over the course of the next week, the hype builds. DV8’s editors get cranking. Viewing parties are organized.
And when Thursday night rolls around, America overwhelmingly tunes in.
Episode #2
Item: Transcript of video broadcast
Source: Waste of Space, Episode #2
Date aired: February 4, 2016
[START OF ACT ONE]
[IMAGE: Morning. The Spacetronauts are gently roused from their slumber with another round of beeping, a “LIGHTS ON” announcement, and the sudden illumination of every light on the ship. Half of them pile into the bathroom to launch the shower/toilet/sink fight anew, while the others shuffle into the kitchen and pick helplessly through the drawers of food, perhaps expecting the contents to hop out and cook themselves.]
Source: Camera #9—Kitchen
Snout: Let’s see what’s in the ole larder! [He picks up a few items and reads the labels.] Oat Meal Product, Dehydrated Potato Butter, Condensed Pizza. Hoo boy, this isn’t looking good. [He moves on to the toothpaste tubes.] Heck, this stuff isn’t even in English!
Bacardi: [examining the tubes] Goulash. Borscht.
Snout: Powdered Eggs. [He rips open a packet.] Let’s see what I can do with this.
[He pulls a pan out of the cabinet, turns on the hot plate, and gets cooking.]
This setup is followed by a goofy montage of the kids trying to choke down the food they’ve been given. While it quickly becomes evident that Snout’s omelets are the only edible provisions onboard the ship (along with the occasional foray into mystery-meat Meteor Chowder territory), DV8 can’t help but play a series of clips wherein the alternatives are explored. Some of them are akin to the microwavable frozen dinners one finds in the Sadness Aisle of the grocery store, while some look legitimately like scientifically engineered space food, and not in a good way. The more horrifying among the packets are dense bricks emblazoned with such unsettling labels as GLUTINOUS GRAVY and DAIRY PRODUCT. Jamarkus warily removes a slab from the packaging and crumbles it over his Macaroni and Curd Sustenance. Bacardi chomps down on another, creating a noise like a cleaving glacier and sending fragments across the floor. Kaoru looks very, very sad.
After the culinary hijinks have been exhausted, the earlier scene picks up where it left off.
[Each cast member is given an omelet, and Snout is given several thankful pats on the back. As the dining area in the kitchen is too small to accommodate the full crew, they eat together in the Lünar Lounge.]
Source: Camera #3—Lünar Lounge
Hibiscus: [picking at her omelet with disdain] Wasn’t there a vegan option?
Bacardi: Gahd. [takes a swig of something] Even I think you’re the most annoying one here, Eye Piss Kiss.
Hibiscus: Hibiscus.
Bacardi: Whatever. Go back to your yoga.
[Hibiscus glares at her, then launches into a headstand.]
Titania: [inspecting a wall of switches] What do you think all these instruments do? Should we futz with them?
Jamarkus: No way. You heard Chazz—we shouldn’t touch anything unless we are explicitly instructed to.
Louise: But we’re explorers! We have to make things happen!
Titania: Exactly. They can’t cram ten of us into a ship full of tempting buttons and expect us not to press them. [She reaches out to flip a switch.]
Jamarkus: Wait!
[Titania hesitates, but Louise jumps in front of her and flips it anyway. Nothing happens.]
Louise: [crestfallen] It didn’t do anything.
Jamarkus: That you know of. What if it sent out a signal? What if it turned off our guidance system?
Titania: I feel like there’d be some indication that—
Matt: Guys? [pointing at the control panel] This red light is blinking. Was it doing that before?
Jamarkus: [hurrying to join him] Oh no.
Matt: What’s happening?
[A repeated beeping noise sounds. The disembodied robot voice announces, “ASTEROID ATTACK.”]
Titania: I think it’s an asteroid attack.
Louise: Yay!
Snout: Oh no!
Colonel Bacon: [squeal]
Jamarkus: Everyone grab hold of something!
Bacardi: Should we duck?
Titania: [her hands over her ears] Can someone please turn off the beeping?
Jamarkus: Prepare for impact!
[A series of crashes assaults the ship. Dents appear in the walls. Small pieces of plastic break off the control panel and skitter across the floor. The Windows Window displays jagged rocks hissing by, trailing wisps of steam. Hibiscus falls out of her headstand. Snout hugs Colonel Bacon. Bacardi vomits in the corner, though it’s unclear whether this is related to the unfolding situation.]
Titania: [hands still over her ears] I mean it! Stop the beeping!
Matt: Oh God. What’s happening?
Kaoru: {It sounds like someone is throwing rocks at us.}
Clayton: [emerging from the bedroom] How much longer is this going to—ow! [A piece of the ship strikes him in the forehead. He puts a hand to his head, then shouts directly into Camera #3] What the bleeding hell—
Source: Camera #4—Lünar Lounge
Hibiscus: It’s futile to resist the pulsations of our natural environs. Stop trying to impose your human supremacy on . . .
Everyone else: SHUT UP!
Clayton: [bleeding from the head] Where’s the first aid—[He trips over Colonel Bacon.] Godammit! Get this stupid pig out of my way!
Snout: So sorry, I—
Clayton: Don’t be sorry! Be less useless!
Bacardi: I found a fire esssstingisher, does that help?
Clayton: Do you see any fires? Then no.
Matt: Oh God, we’re gonna die. I quit. I quit!
[He lunges for the I QUIT™ button, but Louise yet again stands in his way.]
Louise: No! That’s for real emergencies!
Matt: What would you call this?
Louise: A setback! That button is the sort of thing that should be saved for something really terrible, like—
Matt: An asteroid attack?
Louise: You honestly want your time up here to end so soon?
Matt: If the alternative is certain death, then it’s kind of a no-brainer, isn’t it?
Louise: I don’t see it that way.
Matt: What if an asteroid breaks through? What are we supposed to do then?
Clayton: We could use the pig to plug up the hole.
Snout: Hey! Colonel Bacon is not a plug!
Colonel Bacon: [squeal]
Hibiscus: [produces her mandolin and strums a tuneless melody] The pig is not a plug / big religion is a drug . . .
Everyone else: SHUT UP!
Jamarkus: Everyone remain calm! I got this!
[Jamarkus rushes to the control panel.]
Jamarkus: Laika, permission to fire?
Robot Voice: PERMISSION GRANTED.
[Jamarkus grabs the joystick. In the Windows Window, a target sight appears. Jamarkus drags the cursor until it’s hovering over an asteroid, then pulls the trigger, then repeats. The asteroids explode one by one, disintegrating into smaller, harmless debris. Within a minute the field is clear, the ship stops vibrating, the blinking lights go dark, and the beeping ceases. The cast members cautiously get to their feet.
Thus begins a confessional montage.]
Source: Camera #7—Confessional Closet
[Snippets of private interview
s are played back-to-back in rapid succession.]
Nico: So. Asteroid attack.
Jamarkus: I was scared, to be sure—but fortunately, I was able to fend off the projectiles, steer us to safety, and triumph over adversity. I couldn’t have done it without the support of my loyal crew.
Clayton: What a goddamn jackass.
Titania: [head in hands] Please stop the beeping. The constant beeping. At bedtime. In the morning. During emergencies. I cannot take it. It’s like little pings of torture stabbing at my nerves, pecking away at them like—like—
Matt: Oh God. I guess we flew through a field of galactic debris or something. And, uh—crap, for a minute there, it really did feel like we were in trouble. But we’re not, right? I mean, we’re on TV. They wouldn’t let us get killed by moon rocks on TV.
Kaoru: {The asteroid attack has only served to further upset my already distressed stomach. Please give us some real food.}
Bacardi: [wiping off her mouth and looking at her hand] Ugh. I definitely don’t remember eating that.
Louise: It’s unlikely that the rubble we encountered was from the asteroid belt between Mars and Jupiter, as that would mean we’ve traveled one hundred and thirty-four million miles in just seven days. So I suspect that this was either a rogue patch of remnants from a planetary collision or possibly wreckage from an unidentified destroyed spacecraft. Or maybe . . . [quieter, to herself] maybe Lord Balway Galway is testing us . . .
Hibiscus: [still playing her mandolin] Battered by an asteroid / seven million unemployed—
Snout: The colonel’s doing all right. He got spooked, for sure, but I think he’s back to normal now. Ain’t that right, buddy?
[Colonel Bacon squeals. Snout sighs.]
This is harder than I thought it would be. And not just the space stuff—the people, too. I’ve done my darnedest to relate to the others, but what a tough bunch of corn to shuck! So complicated. Always saying the opposite of what they mean, and being ugly to each other for no reason, and fighting when we should be putting our heads together to figure this out. I just don’t know what’s gonna happen.
[Another squeal issues from off-camera]
Colonel Bacon, no! Not the tripod!
Disaster or not, the asteroid attack produces one positive outcome: cast members begin to open up to one another, testing the waters with the unlikely companions they must now rely upon for support. Some accomplish this via heartfelt conversations; others, via toys.
Source: Camera #4—Lünar Lounge
[Matt inspects the board games contained within the Fjälkinge shelving unit.]
Matt: Anyone up for a game of Hungry Hungry Hippos?
Jamarkus: Yessss! I call Homer Hippo!
[Matt and Jamarkus sit down to play. Louise joins them. Nico looks up from the couch, where he is paging through the IKEA catalog.]
Jamarkus: Hey, buddy! You in? It’s real good training for hand-eye coordination—which we’ll all need to brush up on if there are any more attacks coming our way!
Nico: No, thanks.
Jamarkus: Suit yourself. Kaoru, wanna play?
[He mimes the gameplay to Kaoru, who has been looking wistfully out the Windows Window. She joins them with a sigh.]
Kaoru: [pointing at the box] {This says it is for children five through nine. Can we play something more age-appropriate?}
Jamarkus: That’s right, make the hippo eat the marbles! Annnnd . . . go!
[The players furiously pump the levers, plastic clacking at a feverish pace. As soon as Jamarkus nabs the last marble, he grabs the whole game and jumps to his feet.]
Jamarkus: CRUSHED IT!
[He throws it to the floor as if spiking a football. The plastic shatters, sending shards and marbles flying across the lounge. Homer Hippo knocks a complicated-looking circuit board off the wall]
Jamarkus: Oops! Sorry, guys. Got carried away there, didn’t I? I can get kind of competitive.
Matt: Should we be concerned about that?
[He points at the circuit board, now lying face-down on the floor. No emergency beeping is sounding. There are no exposed wires, because the circuit board had not been connected to anything. It appears to have been held in place with shiny strips of sticky fabric.]
Jamarkus: Nope! [He rushes to pick up the circuit board, sticking it back onto the wall.] Not to worry. Look, good as new!
Matt: Was that duct tape?
Jamarkus: [chuckles] Common misconception. It’s highly conductive adhesive. Developed by the Soviet space program back in 1968.
Louise: Oh yeah . . . I think I heard about that! They used it onboard their Soyuz spacecraft, right?
Jamarkus: [after staring at her for a moment] Right! It’s a modern marvel!
[The circuit board falls to the floor again. Louise adopts a confused, hurt expression as she hurries to put it back in place, while Kaoru looks at Camera #4 and mouths the Japanese word for “deceit.”]
Source: Camera #8—Bedroom
[Colonel Bacon is alone in the bedroom, sitting proudly on the king-size bed. Bacardi enters.]
Bacardi: Heylook! A pig inna blanket!
[She dissolves into hysterical laughter. Snout rushes in.]
Snout: Cripes, I’m sorry. Colonel Bacon, get off that bed!
Bacardi: Nah, it’s okay. [She sits on the bed and pets Colonel Bacon] I guess he is kinda cute. Here, piggy, piggy.
Snout: Aw, see? He likes you!
Bacardi: Yeah, I guess he does!
Snout: Oh—oh dear. Colonel Bacon, stop that.
Bacardi: Why? He’s a better kisser than most of my boyfriends.
Snout: You know, he’s still very much a piglet at heart, so maybe you shouldn’t tug so hard on his—
Bacardi: Here, piggy, piggy!
Snout: Oh my. Oh my. [looks helplessly into camera]
Source: Camera #9—Kitchen
[Nico and Titania are seated at the table, attempting to eat a package of astronaut ice cream. They have split the sponge-like brick into pieces and are crunching it between their teeth and wincing.]
Titania: I rule this inedible.
Nico: Seconded.
Titania: [chewing it anyway] So where are you from?
Nico: You mean currently? Or originally?
Titania: I mean however you want to answer.
Nico: You don’t care where I was born?
Titania: Should I?
Nico: Most white people are curious.
Titania: Because most white people like to be able to tick off the box and congratulate themselves on making a Diverse Friend.
Nico: That is . . . exactly right. How did you know that?
Titania: Because I just congratulated myself on making a Diverse Friend.
[Nico snickers.]
Nico: Maybe I’m just really suntanned.
Titania: Uh-huh.
Nico: Or maybe I’m an alien.
Titania: If we land on another planet, we’ll all be aliens.
Nico: True. [brushing ice cream crumbs off his hands] I’m Ecuadorian. My parents moved to New York when I was two, hoping to find better opportunities. [quieter] And much later is when we all found out what a fun little mistake that all was.
Titania: How . . .
[Nico shakes his head quickly, firmly.]
Titania: Okay.
[The ensuing silence is palpable. Titania begins to fidget; she clearly wants to break the silence but doesn’t want to push him. Nico’s face, meanwhile, is screwed up in the eternal shy-guy internal argument: shut up while he’s ahead or attempt more conversation? Everything is then made ten times worse as Bacardi, flailing down the hall, ducks her head into the kitchen and lets out a guffaw.]
Bacardi: Well, isn’t this sickeningly adorable—an ice cream date. Bet America is shipping you two so hard right now.
Nico: Huh?
Bacardi: Y’know, rooting for you to bump nasties. Get a room, lovebirds!
[She prances off.]
Nico: [dazed] We do have a room.
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Titania: [with a flustered yet cleansing breath] Anyway. Your turn.
Nico: Hmm?
Titania: I asked you a question. You can ask me one, if you want.
Nico: Oh. Okay. [grasping] What’s . . . your favorite color?
Titania: [starts to laugh at him, but catches herself and smiles politely] Blue.
Nico: Why blue?
Titania: I find it calming. Safe. Quiet. What’s yours?
Nico: I don’t know. Clear.
Titania: Clear? Clear is not a color.
Nico: Technically, it’s all the colors.
Titania: You’re thinking of white.
Nico: No, white is white. Clear is all the colors at once.
Titania: You’re not very good at questions. Or colors, for that matter.
Nico: In my defense, I’ve gotten about ten hours of sleep over the past few days. This place is majorly screwing with my head.
[Titania looks around the lamentable kitchen.]
Titania: I think it’s supposed to.
[MUSIC CUE: “Crazy” by Gnarls Barkley]
[END OF ACT ONE; CUT TO COMMERCIAL]
* * *
The second episode of Waste of Space gives the impression that it’s nonstop action onboard the ship and that aside from a few hiccups, the crew has pulled together under the stellar leadership of Jamarkus to triumph over all the adversity that’s being thrown at them.
But offscreen, things aren’t going well. The jump cut during the asteroid attack is one telling example of DV8 editing out what they didn’t want the audience to hear. Clayton’s full statement into camera number 3 was:
“What the bleeding hell, Uncle Chazz? I was promised there’d be no physical danger! You want me to sue you for this too?”
Chazz’s solemn vow to accurately capture the happenings onboard the ship is, of course, a spicy stick of baloney. Airing only twenty-two minutes out of a full week leaves 10,058 minutes on the cutting-room floor—and the lack of an online feed means that aside from what is carefully handpicked to be broadcast in the weekly episodes, the raw, unedited footage shot onboard the Laika is seen by no one.