KAYA and SABRE sitting opposite one another. Neither speaking. KAYA still holds the Tube. SABRE is looking annoyed. KAYA still has the complacent smile of before.
1. SFX/off: KRNNCH
KAYA is frowning, now.
SABRE is smiling.
2. SFX/off: HNFFF!
3. SFX/off: KRAK
4. SFX/off: UFFF!
5. TROOP/off: Look out—
Angle in the back room, as one of the TROOPS comes flying through the CURTAIN, having been hurled such by Westfield, outside.
Angle, SABRE and KAYA, as before. The TROOP has landed akimbo, nearly knocking over the PIPE APPARATUS.
KAYA is looking somewhat guilty.
1. TROOP/off/wobble: *groan*
Looking at SABRE, as WESTFIELD sticks his head into the room, behind her.
SABRE is staring at Kaya, off – past us, I imagine – the same smile, but with a touch more steel to it.
2. WESTFIELD: That’d be the last of them. More of them
before long, I suspect.
3. SABRE: Then perhaps the witch might wish to
stop wasting our time.
On KAYA. Guilty, and now trying to figure out how to navigate out of this very awkward situation.
4. KAYA: Yes.
5. KAYA: Well.
6. KAYA: You make a fine argument, m’Lady.